They keep on planting their bones in the ground
But they won't grow
The sun doesn't help
And all we've got is a giant crop of names
And dates
- Lacrimosa
Tea || Earbuds || Cold showers
Hot baths || Hiking || Photography
The park || Pineapple juice
Swimming || Co-workers || Diner food
Cigarettes || Alcohol || Oversleeping
Chinese food || Home Improvement shows
Guns || Coffee || The smell of smoke
Showing weakness || Unsolved cases || Chaos
Purposelessness || The Nightmare
Unsolved cases || Mistakes
Getting too attached || Emotional closeness
They're planted in my feet
They crack my bones
My spine becomes a branch
To bend, not break
- What the Water Gave Me
Highly observant || Attentive to detail || Persistant
Patient || Works well with victims (condolences) || Caretaker
Top physical condition || Talented photographer || Strong stomach
Poor marksmanship || Major social avoidance || Emotionally distant
Trouble with mathematics || Tends to obsess || Subpar hearing
Forgetful in areas not related to work || Neglects to eat regularly
I won't believe not a word you speak, just make it sweet to hear
Let's pour wine in coffee cups and drive around the neighborhood
And shine the headlights on houses until all the news is good
- The Neighbors
Lana is an unending well of kindness, patience, and attentive energy, making her an incredible listener. She's quiet, but easy to be around, and she has a way of making you feel... noticed. Seen. In contradiction to that, she herself prefers to remain a blank page. The moment that she walks into her office, what kicks in could be described as a "fear of spilling". Lana herself becomes a glass, filled to the brim, forcing herself to remain as straight and consistent as possible in order to maintain her liquids. And, really, that's what it is she's become to excellent at doing -- maintaining. She is an expert at navigating social situations, harmlessly twisting any conversation that is unrelated to work away from herself. She didn't even let her co-workers know when her father finally passed, taking a couple of sick days before heading back to work, business as usual (once or twice, since then, she's used "family business" as an excuse in response to social invitations; a fact that makes her sick to think about, as she no longer has any family to speak of). She uses repertoire as faux rapport, utilizing the comfort of small talk to avoid the commitment that closeness can bring.
Outside of work, Lana keeps herself isolated, for the most part staying inside of her house. When she does go out, it's with a specific goal in mind, be that a grocery run, swimming at the local pool, or research at the library. The only time that she releases herself, gets out into the world, is when she visits Oakhedge's wilderness areas and the nearby park. She goes out there sometimes, on her afternoons off or in the dark of night, sitting for hours and photographing whatever catches her eye. Recently, she's had to cut back on time spent in the park, on account of the case, and she hasn't allowed herself out passed sunset in weeks. Though she actively distances herself from her teammates, she's become more attached to them than even she knows, and The Nightmare's activities are beginning to hit home in a frightening way. It's their job to look for criminals, but this particular killer is looking right back at them. With each murder, the dynamic of the team shifts, and it's getting harder to swallow her emotions. The affect that the case is having on her scares Lana to an extent that she isn't prepared to handle, so she's taken to avoiding it entirely, offering to do extra paper work in an attempt to stay far away from the bloody reality of the attacks.
Born and raised in Evanston, IL (several miles outside of Chicago), Lana led a fairly normal, happy childhood. She'd never known her mother, a young woman with a nervous disposition who'd left her boyfriend with a baby and refused to look back, but Lana was very close to her father, who was a pleasant man and a city cop. She mostly kept to herself, and didn't know many people outside of school, but she did make and keep several friends through her classes. She enjoyed several dates throughout middle and highschool, as well -- the first, with a freshman whose ears Lana adored; the second, with a student in her Chemistry class who was a bit more handsy than he really should've been; and the third, a several months-long affair, with a young woman whose eyes reminded Lana of loose change, but who insisted that she was "destined for greater things". Quite a bit of her time was spent at Evanston's Mary and Leigh Block Museum of Art and, when she was old enough to, she took up a volunteer position at the museum, stocking shelves and directing museum-goers and whatever this-and-that management would have her do. Meanwhile, she took up an interest in forensics, which her father (who strived to keep his daughter safe, almost more than was necessary, but who longed for nothing more than her success) supported intensely. Her interest turned to obsession and, graduating top of her class at her local highschool, she entered immediately into the University of Chicago, majoring in biological sciences.
Before she had a chance to fully adjust to the college experience, she was ripped out of the scene, suddenly and with no lack of violence. On the night of October 28th, soon after her 18th birthday, she received a phone call from NorthShore's Evanston Hospital, telling her that her father had been admitted in an emergency situation. It wasn't until she'd arrived at the hospital that she'd gotten the full story; while he was still living, the injuries that her father had sustained during the accident (a major car crash, a spot of unfortunate luck that was entirely unrelated to his dangerous line of work) had left him in such a state that he would be largely unable to care for himself from then on. It was recommended that Lana admit him to a care home, as he'd probably only have a few years left to live, and while she did consider it, she wasn't capable of leaving him by himself. He'd been left before, by the girl he had at the time thought to be his future wife, and it just wouldn't be right, especially with so little time left. On the more self-oriented end of things, her father was the only family that she'd ever had, and the only close connection that she'd been able to maintain thus far. And so, she took him fully into her care, and their roles were officially reversed. Lana dropped out of Chicago U, packed up her belongings, and moved the two of them to Oakhedge, her father's hometown, a quiet and familiar place to spend the his last days.
"His last days" were much more plentiful that either Lana or the doctors had expected. She picked up where she'd left off in her schooling, procuring a Bachelor's degree and completing her graduate education exclusively through online programs. She'd never exactly taken the time to make friends in her new home, but as the years went by, it seemed she drew tighter and tighter into her seclusion. She dedicated herself to taking care of her father and studying, coming out of the house only when there was no other option (she'd taken two jobs, one at a nearby nightclub and the other at a bookshop, to help pay for living expenses and medical necessities), hoping to get into work with the local police force before her father died, to make him proud just once before he was gone. Eventually, Lana did, and her work began to draw her out of the shell that she'd grown herself. However, by the time she officially started working, her father was largely unresponsive, out of touch with the world around him, and she could never be entirely sure that he'd understood what she'd accomplished. That she had a chance to be good at something other than being responsible for him, which he'd been after her for since she'd met her 23rd year single and friendless. Nearly a decade after his accident, Lana's father passed away, leaving her to wonder whether her life had any remaining purpose, and to pour herself into her newfound profession in avoidance of that very idea.
Regina Spektor || The Flowers
The flowers you gave me are rotting
And still I refuse to throw them away
Some of the bulbs never opened quite fully
They might, so I'm waiting and staying awake
Things I have loved I'm allowed to keep
I'll never know if I go to sleep
The papers around me are piling and twisting
Regina, the paper back mummy
What then?
I'm taking the knife to the books that I own
And I'm chopping and chopping
And boiling soup from stone
Things I have loved I'm allowed to keep
I'll never know if I go to sleep
Things I have loved I'm allowed to keep
I'll never know if I go to sleep