House Nothos - Samsara

Thanos reached over a counter and buzzed himself into the ward, moving quickly to get to the huge double doors before the timer ran out. That would be something to fix, he supposed - probably electronic key cards would be the best way for residents to get in. Somewhat secure, but not so much of a lockdown that it would be a problem to bring in visitors. Besides, there were plenty of reasons for people to keep away -without- heavy security. This would, after all, be the nothos ward.

He first entered what was nothing more than a long hallway with an enclosed desk on the far end. Experimentation had taught him that at the moment both doors could not be open at the same time; they'd done the same thing in prison.

Also, he reflected wryly, in aviaries. Don't want any crazy birdies flying the coop, after all.

After buzzing himself through the second door, he entered the ward proper and took his first look around. There was a large empty area immediately inside that Thanos thought would serve nicely as a common area, and he guessed, correctly as it happened, that the kitchen and dining area were just around the corner. The nurses' station was directly across from him.

The rooms were much like typical hospital rooms - no padded walls in this part of the building, anyway. The windows had grates that would be removed easily enough; that along with a set of restraints in one of the bedside carts were the only things that made these rooms unusual.

Everything was clean and blank and white.

He thought it would do.


~*~*~*~*~

One last turn of the screwdriver and finally the doors to the ward were back in place. The card reader would come tomorrow, along with some other equipment he had procured, but already the area was starting to look like a home.

Someone's home, anyway. Thanos smiled - no, this wasn't your mother's house.

The former nurses' station was now a well stocked bar with a sleek black marble countertop and tall mirrors reaching to the ceiling. Glasses hung from above, sparkling in the track lighting, and fans pulled the smoky air away, replacing it with fresh. It wasn't so much about having a place to drink, Thanos reflected, as simply having a place where people could be themselves. It wasn't easy to be a nothos in Vyusher R'asa; even if you picked up a good chunk of plentyn culture there would always be something you missed, something that defined the line between the true sons and daughters of the pack and...the others. And so the ward had been designed for comfort, naturally, but it was also a place where people didn't have to blend in with anyone.

Big chenille couches with fat, squishy pillows contrasted the clean edged marble inlaid coffee tables and stark minimalist paintings and clean, muted prints in the common area. An entertainment center dominated one wall - not everything was set up yet but Thanos had, perhaps selfishly, been sure to slip a practice amp into one of the available slots. Tall black vases with various arrangements of eucalyptus stood in the corners. A black multi layered game table stood to one side.

He'd arranged for the wall separating the kitchen from the dining area to be taken out, leaving only support columns and giving the space an open feel. For the kitchen he ordered new black appliances and, among other things, had a restaurant style indoor grill put in.

The table was long enough to fit twenty some people, dark wood with marble and slate inlays alternating down its length. On one side chairs were lined up, and on the other two benches. Comfortable enough to have 'family dinners', and not too formal. A simple round paper lantern hung over the top in lieu of a fancy chandelier.

He'd already had the room divisions almost completely torn down and rebuilt to provide more space that would be distributed according to people's needs. Suites ranged from studio style dwellings to four bedroom sprawls. While he imagined most families would move to another ward when they got married, or at least by the time they had children, he thought some might prefer this environment.

A few of the former rooms, though, were now put to other purposes. Thanos engaged in a bit more self indulgence when he set up a modest gym in one room, and put his various music equipment in another. In a third he put some computer equipment he didn't mind sharing - if he could get Tobi off his ass for once they could set up a network maybe, though Thanos privately hoped there would be someone who would know how to do that sort of thing living here. Trying to find that kid when there was work to be done was like panning for gold in your bathtub.

There were a few more rooms that were open and empty, but he figured his ward mates could decide what to do with those together. The space was certainly large enough for everyone, in any event, so long as you didn't have a problem with communal living. Thanos had lived in a one room apartment, sleeping on the floor between a crib and another sorry junkie. He'd shared a prison cell for most of his sentence. He'd spent a week in a dumpster and stretches of time on the street. Nah, communal living didn't much bother him.

It was the doors he was particularly proud of. On the outside they were, of course, plain and presentable, but when the doors were shut a painting was revealed on the inside. Thanos was a bit rusty with paints, but the work was neat and clear if nothing else. He'd spent too much time on it, perhaps, time better spent working, but the results were both pleasing and soothing to him and he thought, or hoped, it was worth it.

A wheel within a wheel within a wheel* spanned both doors, held in the claws of some ferocious monster. On the outer rim were the twelve links of causality, portrayed in a frank, almost harsh manner. The next rim was divided into six parts by spokes to portray the six worlds of existence. The next, the rim directly outside the hub, was done in black and white - the white path and the black, to show the different directions the soul could take. And in the center, a pig, a snake, and a rooter spun in a circle, each biting the other's tail in a chain of greed, hatred and delusion.

Perhaps some would find the notions portrayed in the Tibetan Buddhist symbols depressing, but he thought perhaps his fellow nothos might see the appeal in a world where -everyone- was reborn, over and over. Where constant transition was a way of life, where this was just another realm. Like the very name nothos, they could take the labels others threw at them and make them their own.

And thus the ward of the nothos, the home for the reborn, what the polite called the peregrinus, had its name, painted over top of the wheel for all to see.

Samsara.


*note - obviously Thanos has not replicated a famous painting in perfect detail - rather, he has created his own depiction using the standard symbols appropriate to the piece.

Thanos 17 years ago
Though he was Jiro and technically could have had as much space as he asked for, Thanos was fine with a studio dwelling and the communal areas for when he really wanted to stretch out. His personal space was kept open – floor to ceiling screens took the place of dividing walls, so that he could wander from place to place without impediment. He tried to live simply, no longer being a man of many vices as he once was, and while he did not entirely succeed in avoiding mass collections of junk, most of his things – books, computers, music – were left out for all to share. Thus his suite was sparse, but nearly everything inside was important to him.

The painting of Ganesha, for example. Some might think him irreverent for dipping into a mix of religions to gain his sense of the spiritual, but then these same people probably thought he was damned to some version of hell anyway he didn’t reckon their opinion mattered all that much. In any case, the man with the head of an elephant had seen him through some hard times and he felt he owned the image a special place.

Present giving was a liquid and regular thing among the Vyusher R’asa – ‘regifting’ was not only acceptable but encouraged and there was no clear rule set that Thanos could see for how exactly gifts were exchanged between parties. They seemed to simply give, and give generously, and as the Jiro he’d oftentimes found gifts simply left behind after visits. He in turn found homes for most of the items, which was sometimes an inconvenience, but he always kept the gifts he received from children. Kids liked him, for some odd reason he couldn’t fathom. Thus he had a drawer filled with little crafts and a few trinkets lying about – a painted rock here, a sand candle there, obviously made with childish, though surprisingly deft, taste and skill.

There were candles everywhere – he made most of them himself though these were one of the few gifts he was known to keep. One of the holders, on the floor, was a complicated wrought iron job that he had actually stolen from the first house he’d broken into. He could no longer remember if he’d been caught that time, but he’d never been forced to return the item and it, like the Ganesha image, had seen him through some difficult times. Some were lit and some were not – typically the more restless he was, the more light there was in the room – he tended to light candles absently when deep in thought, as he paced the room.