Latest Posts by c0nnectdots - Page 2

there were many more exciting things to do than smoking outside of a nightclub, yes. effie hasn't thought of going in, but rather found it to be a nice hidey-hole to pause her walk. the thrum of the music good white noise, almost calming from the outside. but, no, she won't go in she's taking a pause from a new nightly routine walk. restless, unable to sleep. after awhile tossing and turning surpassed annoying and became boring. she isn't sure where it stems from, but maybe it's everything. the register's latest post, the missing person's, the wanted poster, the buzzing ... everything and anything all at once. it has her buzzing and wanting to type away on her laptop. however, she feels ricardo might have a tighter grip on her words. look over her shoulder too much. it grates her more than she'd let on — but she'll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

she sees him before she hears him, eyes glancing over to the fellow smoker. when he speaks effie's head tilts, engaged with the topic. ding, ding, ding ... it's one of the things keeping her eyes open. " hmm. interesting thought. " the cigarette is raised to her lips as her shoulder blades roll, turning her to a lean against the wall with just one shoulder pressed. smoke tumbles from her lips towards him, glancing over just to acknowledge the picture. " asking for a third ... that's pushing it, though. that get you far on any dating apps? " there's a smirk. it isn't meanspirited, but he could take it however he wanted. she follows the slicing gesture and responds with a laugh. " who knows ... go with your story of them being a cute couple together, they could've ran away. maybe hauled off somewhere together after some atrocities. " it's ridiculous and effie knows it, but she's willing to live in the hypothetical for a moment.

another drag off of the cig and she's looking up at the sky. " honestly the real question is ... will the guy turn himself in, come clean or is he on the run and hiding something like anybody and everybody does. " looks back towards francis. " tell me, which would you do— run or tuck your tail? "

ꜜ ﹙ 💳  ﹚ ﹕ there were probably more exciting things to do on a friday night than smoking a cigarette outside of the town's lone nightclub⸻ a masochistic test of discipline, like the proverbial moth trying to deprive itself of the flame that burned and burned and burned. but attempts at restraint did not make the allure any less bright. instead, he focused on the faded scraps of paper that plastered on the building's facade, a messy collage of events posters and local business ads, fluttering in the breeze. but there were two posters that stood out— demanded attention, really. side by side, and newer than all the rest. francis took a slow drag as he stared at those two faces, smoke curling up from his mouth as he exhaled with a sigh ﹕ a sound that almost sounded profound. almost. and francis looked like he was chewing on something meaningful, maybe deep, when he beckoned a passerby closer with a sharp psst⸻ a feeling of urgency underling the noise, as if his thoughts could not wait any longer to be said out loud. “ do you see it ? ” gaze returned to the missing and wanted posters, a brief pause just to see if they would make the same discovery. and finally, “ missing girl and wanted guy. they'd make a cute couple, right ? like, opposites attract or whatever. she looks all bright-eyed and fun, and he's got that ... ” francis circled his cigarette vaguely in the air as he tried to find the words, then taking another drag. “ that i'll ruin your life but you'll love me for it thing going on. kind of hot. ” smoke billowing out as he spoke, coughing when he finished the thought with a small laugh. “ but, guess it's too late to ask if they want a third, huh ? girl's been two months missing, so she's probably⸻ ” cigarette dropped to the ground and hand raised to his neck, a slicing gesture across his throat with lazy precision before letting out a croak. @c0nnectdots

damon pauses for a moment, racking his brain on if the face is familiar or not. so many faces in redcreek remembered and forgotten. seen on a day-to-day basis as a client, a grocery story regular or someone he'd rub shoulders with the wrong way in high school. so many options! they eventually conclude she looks familiar from bygone teenage years. brows furrowing trying to think about her name.

" star-struck, eh? c'mon don't gotta be a flatterer now. i'm just a redcreek native, not a celeb. " gives a slight laugh at that, mouth splitting into a grin. " don't hate me, but i can't remember your name. high school, right? " snaps his fingers to point at sianni before they're leaning back against the bar. " well. maybe it isn't a good look for anybody right now, no. " agrees without much fight there. takes a drink from the beer bottle before they're turning fully to face her, a snort towards her exaggerated expression. " bit dramatic, don't you think? off us one by one? that's stranded adults in a woodland cabin plot. " doubts its some grand show of control or something similar. hasn't really given it much thought and finds themselves straying away from the turbulence as much as possible. they keep in the know, but they're not trying to be within the know.

" refresh me. what's your name aaaaaaaand do you drink. it's on me. for forgetting you. "

sianni turns to see damon del valle in a seat while he speaks directly to her, which has her honestly taken aback a bit.

she knew them from high school-- well she knew of them-- she was in her sophomore year going to her junior year as they were graduating from their senior year. "not gonna lie, a little star-struck right now, didn't know you'd even-- know me--remember me? or maybe you're just trying to make conversation with a stranger?"

Though, sianni doesn't hesitate to take a seat across from him, "but to answer your question, is it even a good look for any of us to be here-- especially when there's somebody-- or even people, who wants to--" sianni makes a face expression, one meant to express agony on someone's face, "off us one by one it seems."

" c'moooonnnn, seriously? if you get to choose your own mugshot why would you choose a photo at all? " damon snorts as they slide up, peering over noah's shoulder to squint at the wanted poster. it's ... interesting. streets a-fucking buzz since the release of the register's press and the 'call this hotline for any tips on this bozo!' came to play. briefly they're wondering if more people care about this piece of paper than the poor woman taken too soon.

they sniff, thumb swiping the bottom of their nose. " mmmm ... " he's mimicking her earlier squint, siving the photo up before straightening up. " damn sleuthing skills, huh? should be a detective, miss. noah. " gives a sharp little laugh before a headshake. " can't decipher a killer from a fucking picture. not everyone has the ... " lifts their hands to throw them into an energized circle, " devil eyes the news likes to boast about. who knows.

crosses their arms, thumbs rubbing little circles into biceps. something about it all puts them on edge. its not heightened enough to be fear, but ... an edge. they've been checking corners, looking behind them, making sure to lock their doors and windows. paranoid, maybe, but nobody else has to know that. " think whatever that's about isn't for us to really worry about. unless, y'know, we see some shifty business. "

[  open  starter  ;  starring  ...  noah  li  ] [  setting  ;  the amrak grocery  store  ]

it's  late.  it's  what  noah  calls  the  dead  hour  where  there's  either  no  one  in  the  store  or  a  singular  shopper  wondering  around  the  chips  aisle.  either  way,  noah  doesn't  do  a  lot  at  this  hour.  she  either  starts  turning  the  soup  cans  around  to  mess  with  customers  or  reads  one  of  the  national  geographics  they  have  in  the  magazine  racks.

"do  you  think  he  got  to  pick  what  picture  they  put  on  the  wanted  poster?"  noah  asks  as  her  sharp  hazel  eyes  squint  at  the  piece  of  paper  pinned  to  the  bulletin  board  near  the  entrance.  noah's  only  ever  seen  it  littered  with  missing  person's  posters  or  job  offerings.  a  wanted  poster  is  new.  exciting,  in  noah's  opinion,  but  they  don't  say  that.

noah  tilts  their  head,  letting  out  a  curious  sound  through  pursed  lips.

"i  don't  think  he's  the  killer.  look  at  his  gaze,"  her  scarred  hand  motions  in  a  circle  around  the  piece  of  paper,  "too  sad.  not  the  eyes  of  a  killer,  if  you  ask  me."

FOR : OPEN! LOCATION : redstone bar . TIMESTAMP : 8:45pm .

" yeah, yeah ... i know not a good look for me to be here. " snorts over his drink. a singular beer bottle in their hand the first and only one. damon wasn't trying to have a repeat of the other week or make someone nervous around him. its been on his mind recently. 'great job, damon, not only are you a known face, but now you're known as the guy that started a fight on murder night!' whatever. it wasn't the headline of the register in the whodunit column, so at least they don't have to worry about that. fingers twirl the bottle into a little spin, liquid spinning in the bottle. " gotta save my face somehow, eh? promise i ain't any trouble ... here at least. "

FOR : ricardo! @inadeqcies . LOCATION : ricardo's rich boy home . TIMESTAMP : 7:35pm .

as if the register wasn't already its own personal shitshow, this might just be its final downfall. questions, questions, questions. plagued with questions. effie on the streets, her business line, her email. it didn't matter if the owner's email was listed anybody who was curious enough would bombard any reporter related to the post. maybe it wasn't the release of the information that pissed effie off, maybe it was just ricardo. no, no, more accurately it was the fact she was cut from the information. woke up the next morning to a post surrounding bronte and daniela and not a single inkling of ricardo's intentions. the release was haphazard at best, a clear indication of a rushed dump. if effie weren't so distressed, she might even be impressed with its half assed effort. it's better than anything she'd imagine ricardo capable of.

instead of the office effie tracks down his personal abode. wasn't hard to look at the records and figure out the address. this is personal, so she's going to make it personal in his own home. three continuous knocks against the door until it's opened. there's a complaint on ricardo's lips as he opens the door. it goes in one ear and right out the other as she shoves in, hands thrown up.

" i didn't know you had it in you! really, i didn't. " a certain passion ignites in her voice, " but what never fails to show is your absolute arrogance, ricardo. you know how many people are trying to get an insiders scoop from me? some extra juicy bits? giving me some bogus gossip column shit? i can't even say a word because ... oh, i don't know anything! care to lift the veil for me? such as where the hell this daytime drama incident came from? and if you even crosscheck your source? "

effie knows damn well ricardo wouldn't be anywhere on the suspect list. unless there's a fat chunk of cash and they're hiring someone else ... there's absolutely no way. she's laughing at her own thoughts while adjusting her bag to her shoulder. this walk isn't going to be dreadful, at least not for her. tons of people would probably take the nearest turn left and avoid being stuck with ricardo garcia ... but she's a woman of pride. though she'd never speak it, and would like to think he knows it, ricardo doesn't have skin in the game. to write was to pull at heartstrings, instill intrigue and captivate whoever reads it. money, in the end, was simply the bonus. so, that's what she's leading with.

another laugh sounds at his stop, feet carrying her to step in front of him and pause the little walk. effie looks up at him with a tilted head, smile resting against her face as if she's already won this mock - debate. " i'll take the good person comment as a compliment ... but seriously? let me rephrase. " she takes a drag off of her cigarette, turning away to blow the smoke away from his face. in an instant her gaze travels back to his face. determined in expression and soon in voice. " it is cruel, but cruelty doesn't sell. the register writes a false column only to be discredited by shitty police ... sure it'll sell. however, our reputation will also tank. and when that tanks, you know what else does? profit. " she spins the hand with the smolder around in a circle. " what i'm suggesting is, yes, have some tact, but mainly if we wait for a statement and then fill in the plot holes with our own what ifs and could bes ... we'll drive suspense. " there's a snort, " nonetheless won't become the fucking tmz of red creek only profiting off old ladies who can't use a smart phone. see what i mean, ric? "

HE ROLLS HIS EYES and feels a small almost - smile move his mouth . ricardo has worked hard to be known in certain ways . sometimes he forgets the feeling you can get from surprising people . from being remembered DIFFERENTLY . ricardo has never been a smoker , but he takes interest in the way the smoke billows around effie , effortlessly . his eyes linger for a second too long before he pulls them away . " well , who knows ? maybe i'm the murderer looking for a second kill tonight . " he says , tone with less bite than normal .

he waits for her as she collects her items , eyes scanning their surroundings . ricardo didn't know what to expect for his first halloween in this town . it's both surpassed and disappointed every expectation . back home , he'd be in a limousine by now , snorting white substances with random victoria secret models . REDCREEK IS LIKE A WHOLE DIFFERENT WORLD . he hums at effie's description of kennedy . it's an understatement . kennedy may be one of the smartest people that ricardo's ever met , but FAT CHANCE of revealing that . he falls into step with effie , hands tucking neatly into his dress - pant pockets . he looks over in surprise as she mentions holding off reporting in the register . if it was anyone else , he'd tell them to keep their shit opinions to themselves . he feels himself slowly break into a grin the more she talks . this is where effie and kennedy differ greatly . effie has a conscience . ricardo can't even remember what having one feels like . " breeding hysteria is in our job description . " he replies back , languidly . he turns to face effie properly , pausing in their footsteps. " i don't know if you realised yet , eff , but cruel and me kind of go hand in hand . " he resumes walking , with a small shrug of his shoulders . " i appreciate your opinion . " he always does , which is a DANGEROUS thing . " but i'm sure you can appreciate why i won't be taking it . " ricardo squints up ahead , trying to determine where they are . " hysteria , shitty police , bungling media ? that's how cases bring infamy . infamy brings money . we don't have to be good people , but we can at least be rich ones . "

" well, lets think the lucky stars for that. " effie comments towards the final girl material. it's probably best to not take too many nods from a screenplay. though, at least, it seems savannah's self-aware of the type of person she is. effie's sure she probably isn't either, but she isn't going to imagine herself in that situation. unnecessary anxiety— and the night sure has had enough of that for everyone. " yeah, lets take a minute. you look a bit frazzled. how about a quick chat and then we can go on about our way, yeah? i know getting out the door was a disaster. "

she takes a brief puff, turning her head to the side to blow it out. " what'd you think of the party, you know, before it all came crashing down? " effie wasn't the best at small talk, but thinks savannah might need it. looked a bit like a deflated balloon ... like everyone else that was enjoying their night off. " definitely could've had better music this year, i think. "

Savannah was a little bummed over the party having to be cut short so out of the blue, only being able to mingle for a little bit. While everyone was being told to evacuate, the young woman finds herself feeling shoved out from the main doors, stumbling slightly, being elbowed by the rest of the crowd.

Fumbling for her phone in her bag, she raises a brow to the other who was nearby. "Uh yeah, this does kind of blow," she admitted with a sigh. Having spent so much time on her hair and makeup, she didn't want the night to end quite yet. "I'm not really sure what's going on, but might be better to use the buddy system? Not sure if I'm final girl material....", she confesses.

damon seems to lose some tension in their shoulders when they realize its hana. it emulates in the heavy sigh they give, hands dropping to their sides like a ton of bricks. " fuck ... hi, han. still got myself all worked up — you'd probably knock me on my ass anyway. " they're surprised they weren't knocked more on their ass, but luckily with the fight being broken up, well, wasn't a lot of time for that. one thing is for sure their head is pounding and the outside, loud chattering and whispers definitely isn't helping them.

at the offer, damon sounds a heavy groan. " god, yes, get me outta here. what i was trying to do in the first place. but, you know, you saw how that went. " shoulders deflate as they sink down the doorway of the bathroom. definitely isn't considering anyone else stuck behind them or trying to get in. centers in on hana for a moment, finding it the best way to keep grasp of their focus. " i think i've had enough law - breaks to steal the first aide kit. i think if you get me to the street that'd be more than enough. walk of shame myself home. unless you wanna make sure i don't jump anyone else. "

☾ one moment, she's downing waters at the bar in an attempt to not walk home plastered with an apparent killer on the loose. her eyes remain on the phone, texts becoming more legible but less frequent with every passing second. the next, an alarmingly bad fight breaks out in the middle of the bar crowd. nosy as ever, hana managed to clamber to a vantage point (kneeling on her barstool), only to spot damon breaking away from the fight. she gapes for a moment as her brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of her.

she tries to trail after the other, coming to a halt at the bathroom door — it would maybe cross a line to follow someone into the bathroom uninvited, even if they were friends. so hana waits. maybe a bit too close, because here comes damon directly into her shoulder. ❝ whoooa, calm down. ❞ she says, mirroring the way their hands go up in surrender.

❝ if you were trying to fight me, i'd take lots of offense. just so you know. ❞ she tries to joke, but she does pout a bit when she looks up at them. ❝ wow. talk about ouch. that must've been— intense. do ya want me to steal a first - aid kit from behind the bar ? or like, get you outta here. whichever. ❞

" well, it was a fight that's what ... " damon shouldn't be a smartass right now, but they'll blame the adrenaline crash. hands, clammy and head rightfully throbbing from a bottle crack. yeah, they're not exactly their best self. a thumb lifts to swipe at their nose ring. at least it wasn't ripped out, that would be a real pain. " well. guy shoved me. had some real force into it— mix in some good ol' jack daniels ... and bada bing you got yourself a fight. "

there's a pause with their eyes glancing down at the med kit. " look, vanessa, already put another on shitshow on halloween ... really don't think i need that. " gestures to the first aide. " probably should just suck it up and go home. " they feel a slight drip of blood down their forehead. pauses. " on second thought ... yeah. yeah, maybe. " they move from the doorframe to leave against a wall, hunching down to make it a bit easier. " i'm sorry, really. swear i ain't ... you know, like that. haven't caused shit on your shift in a minute. we cool? "

❝ ⸻ WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ? ❞ vanessa's day off and out of all nights and situation , a fight breaks out . Everyone knew she had a no fighting policy in the bad .... AT LEAST WHEN SHE WAS WORKING . not only did a fight breaking out looked bad for business , killed the vibes of the bar , and such , but she simply wanted everyone to leave the bar on a feel good note . with the first aid kit in her hand , vanessa motioned for him to follow and sit , away from everyone .

❝ how did the fight even started ? ❞ one minute she heard chatter about the body found and small laughs here and there , and the next thing she heard was a glass breaking before she broke up the fight and threatened to kick both asses . Something everyone knows she could do . ❝ Let me help you ❞

lets get one thing straight: damon hasn't been in a fight since the yesteryears. younger, freshly out of high school damon ... boy did they have a mouth. as much as they could swindle something to go their way, get a discount at a local business they could also say the wrong shit at the wrong time. nowadays, they don't really bother with the adrenaline of saying the wrong thing. however, they'd been put in the wrong place at the wrong fucking time. tension in the room, tension on the streets. the cord was bound to snap eventually. unfortunately, it's on the pop idol taking a damn vacation. " the fuck is wrong with me? the fuck is wrong with you?! " spat after the punch to the cheek — that's gonna bruise later, great — hands frantic to get some sort of leverage. their hands twist into the shirt, but find there's nothing they could do to get the underhand. great, now i have to pretend to be some scrappy street kid, they think. arms flail and lift to press wrists into the elbows, attempt to weaken the grasp and get hajun into a grapple. " aaaaaaallll these fuckin' people in here, and you're pushing around? wrong fucking place, wrong guy. " at this point they're attempting to shove him towards the bar. legs knocking, knees uncomfortably bend. doesn't help that hajun's got the height on damon nonetheless the build. " least you could do is apologize, but you look like you wanna keep this going, huh? " needling ... proooobbbbably not their finest look.

who thought drinking so much was a good idea? him apparently. he's never lost his footing several times and with the amount of intoxication, closeness, and the lack of being able to breathe... it feels like he's being crushed. the loud chatter fades out into screams of fans and the constant grinding of bodies feels like hands grabbing, pawing at him. he hears vague sounds of his name ( or, at least, he thinks ) and the sounds bleeding all into one. it merges into obnoxious, screeching voices trying to get his attention or inappropriate grabbing. the lack of conscience doesn't help at all in this situation, actually feeling helpless and hopeless in this situation. the breath is getting trapped in his lungs and he's getting light - headed, so much that when he finally goes to leave, no one will move the fuck out of the way. move, move, move! apologies could come later but what mattered was him and him alone, even if he does unconsciously shove shove someone. better than getting crushed in his bar.

except that wasn't a good idea and being crushed to death actually sounded a lot better because then the next thing he knew, he's getting socked right in the jaw. the voice sounded far, but it was hard to register when this man was right in front of him. " what the hell— " living in visions or not, that brought him out of his stupor for sure. that's right, he's not performing or getting off a flight with ravaging fans waiting by with paparazzi, he's just in the bar... no where else. however, his ears ring loudly, feeling the aching pain settling in, and he knows there's going to be a blossoming bruise to appear later— and as far as he sees it, he's not the problem. he may be completely unaware of his actions prior but well, he's aware now. " what the fuck is wrong with you?! " clammy hands reach forward to grab at his shirt and pulls to land his own solid punch right into damon's cheek.

thomas jaquet

FOR : kieran ! @gorebound . LOCATION : THE WAREHOUSE ; HALLOWEEN PARTY . TIMESTAMP : 9:25pm .

if there's one thing damon won't pass up it's a party. and when it comes to the red creek annual halloween party? of fucking course they're going to be there. a common face at a common place, two plus two equals four after all. it wasn't in their plan to drink this heavily, but the atmosphere always seemed to get to them. adrenaline, good music, good times ... for a guy that's always on the move and filling up their plate it was nice to truly let loose every once in awhile. which, damon notices, is exactly what kieran isn't doing. they spot him immediately at the make-shift table bar. no drink in hand, though they didn't expect one to be, and scanning the crowd like they're birdwatching. it prompts damon to laugh to himself. it's only natural that they stride over with half empty red cup in their hand.

" well, well. " eyes scan him over for a moment. cowboy, classic. has seen about three of those, but this one ... " out here all dressed up like a cowboy and you're not even visiting the saloon? that's just shameful, kt. " they enter kieran's space, but only just enough to give a tap to their elbow. " come on, for fuck's sake, loosen up a little. y'know, for a guy that goes crawling around abandoned houses you're so ... " twirls their free hand in a circle and glances elsewhere before they smack their lips. " demure. "

the direct and casual tone catches her off guard. even has her voicing it atypically : " oh. " it's amusing, really. the nonchalance. the ability to voice opinion, one based in earnest or not, without batting an eye. a stray thought comes to mind: kieran should make a podcast or try putting his opinions to paper. might be a damn hit. " should i thank be thanking you for that? i mean, really, this isn't some sort of indie horror flick. but, hell, you're making me curious who you are suspicious of. that's just the writer in me though. " effie's earnest at least, but she is wondering what's on his mind, who. it might even be useful to jot down— consider it for herself. yet, out of good manners, she doesn't press.

eyes flicker down to the unlit cigarette leaning close. the unspoken request met with her own lean. cigarette between her lips she lights it with the butt of her own. obverses him over it quietly. a creature of habit she is. ends it with a long drag and a collection of her bag while she stands. " thank you. i'm not really ... scared, but i don't think i want to cram myself into the bar like everyone else is. that'd really be what wigs me out. not enough room to breathe. " she adjusts her purse against her shoulder, slowly walking in the direction her apartment rests. eyes cast upwards a considerable distance. effie's never felt small before, but it's hard to ignore just how looming kieran was. that's a frame she'd never want to see in a dark hallway — a horror flick — only his shadow visible. " i have to ask though ... were you headed home or trying to snoop? no judgement. i'm no better sometimes. "

…                      oncoming headache was absolutely a cautionary tale against night outs, did not mean to get so senselessly wasted, especially when he only really attended that stupid halloween party for one single-minded purpose. and well, that turned out to be an utter fucking failure. but there wasn't anything quite as sobering as the news of yet another tragedy, the cogs and gears of his mind slowly beginning to turn again despite the lingering effects of alcohol and god knows what else he might have taken. “ safe as life. ” which was just another way of saying not at all, blown pupils thoroughly watching the smoke billowing from her mouth as if it was the most entertaining thing in the world. but it was a needed distraction nonetheless, something to fixate on while he attempted to get his shit together. but maybe he needed a far stronger stimulation, harshly pinching the bridge of his nose ⸻ and a groan slipped past his lips, nothing like some good ol' pain to jolt someone fucking wide awake. “ you're lucky i don't suspect you, ” said with typical nonchalance, taking out a marlboro of his own from a silver case. “ i can keep you company till you think it's safe. ” he had read way too much data and while she checked the white working class boxes of most female midwestern serial killers, a journalist like her was more likely to be the vulture circling the bodies, rather than the vicious wolf itself. he could be wrong, it wouldn't be the first time, but blame it on the alcohol, because kieran felt safe enough to lean in, tilting his head to meet her eyes, the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips as he silently asked if she'd light it off hers. maybe she wasn't the killer, but it still felt like flirting with danger : effie floyd just had that look, like she could eat you alive.

" ooohh, ricardo, have you been drinking? this isn't like you. " it's a jest coupled with a puff of laughter filled with smoke. effie has worked beneath him long enough to know this wasn't up to status quo. known for his sharp tongue and blaise tenor, he'd never willingly offer that. and yet, here he is. offering. truthfully, effie has always been acutely aware of his slight shift with her. its never been drastic nor suspicious, but the sharp edge dulls just a bit. she hasn't questioned it before and wouldn't start now, but couldn't help but to tease it. " i'll take you up on that. "

effie goes to stand and reaches behind her for the bag. red strands of a wig stick out comically, the discarded piece to her costume. it'd started giving her a headache over an hour ago, but she'd just now decided to rip it off. effie floyd, committed to her own detriment. " kennedy ... she's always right on the mark, isn't she? " the cigarette returns to her mouth for another puff. the silence mingles with the dissipating smoke. she pretends to ponder with this, but she's already known how to handle her own work since the announcement. " if you want my honest opinion i think we should hold off on any columns. " she looks from the sidewalk up to ricardo, head tilting towards the side. " that includes kennedy. me. you. jump before the officials and it'll cause a mess. post too soon it could breed hysteria. nonetheless ... it'd be a bit cruel to give a tragedy a damn timestamp like six pm, don't you think? "

EFFIE INTRIGUED RICARDO , which was a rarity . she wasn't one to outrightly gossip , nor was she one to fall into the bitchiness and politics like the rest . she was a straight shooter and ricardo has always liked them straight and direct . " i'll walk with you , if you want . " he offers , even surprising himself . decency and ricardo's name don't usually belong in one sentence , but he supposes he can take an hour or two off from being the world's largest douche bag . plus , secretly he does think that if anyone should and could and had the RIGHT to own the register . . . . it was probably effie . unfortunately for her , his family , name and connections got HIM the job . " you've got your concentration face on . kennedy said they'd be writing up a piece - what's your angle ? you know print goes out at 6 . "

" did something happen ... " she remembers the split of her dress in an instant. thin, sutured with a quick pin stolen from the bar. " oh, that. ugh, got it caught on someone's spikey belt. i think. " an exasperated sigh. " and you say you can't get anything past me ... look at you. " on the contrary, effie hasn't drank yet. she tries to stray away from the habit. finds being the role of the sober friend at the party to be more fulfilling. though, really, who is she to pass up the offer? the atmosphere here is different than the office, kennedy seems to feel lighter. she'll take it. another show of her good intent in picking at her pieces ; the small criticism. if effie thinks differently of kennedy she'd never voice it unless it becomes a necessity. it hasn't yet.

" my poison is usually a warm blanket and wine at home. i'm kind of a fish out of water here. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " think ... i'll go with the classic whiskey sour though. classy. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " but i think ... i'll go with the simple whiskey sour though. real classy. " and that's her personal cue to pull their sway towards the bar. " gotta say, didn't think this was your scene. though i guess i sold you too short as a new york girl, huh ? "

“did something happen today?” they ask, never missing an opportunity to be nosy. kennedy isn't sure why they invited efiie out to dance. they never made much of a habit to hang out with another journalist back in new york. maybe they were growing soft. a realization they will no doubt nurse along with a headache tomorrow morning at the rate they are going. that’s a problem for later though. right now? everything is good. the music is good, the ambiance is good, kennedy is feeling good, effie is looking good. it’s all good! effie’s observation earns chuckle from kennedy. “i can’t get anything past you, can i? okay — i might have a bit of a head start on you.” they admit, looking down at their hands for a moment before flashing her a rare, mischievous grin. “so let’s get you caught up! what’s your poison?” 

FOR : open, come take a seat! LOCATION : sitting at a bench, just away from the party's warehouse TIMESTAMP : aprox 1:04am.

" talk about ... a mess, huh ? " effie says to the person lingering next to her stoop. since the warehouse began to clear and the music cutting with the announcement to evacuate ... she's had a cigarette between her fingers. another lost soul to join the bloody past of red creek. she's been here long enough, around for many a halloween, to know what the boogeyman mask represented. some were mindful, some were distasteful. the common denominator : all were aware. and that awareness ... was coming back to the forefront. and the hype about the town's potential ghost reviving beginning to surface into rattling rumors. it all comes full circle, doesn't it ?

the journalist's soul in her is alit in secret. the classic questions a buzz. how she'd write it, if she should even fathom to ask their friends or be more tasteful. questions and questions, ideas and ideas. however, she knows she'll let the hype die before typing away at her encrypted laptop. a fiend for knowledge, yes, but never crass. too many journalists out there were monsters after all. she'd never stoop so low as to disrespect someone like the others. effie's expression to the other isn't as panicked as it should be. remorseful, yes. scared, no. a sigh sounds from her lips with another puff of smoke. she offers a wry smile. " think its safe to walk alone ? not enough details out yet to know if it's, you know, smart to. "

DAPHNE BLAKE, played by the journalist herself . . . effie floyd ! coming to a red creek halloween party near you! template cred.

FOR : open, come on in ! LOCATION : redstone bathroom ( or just coming out of it for accessibility ) TIMESTAMP : 2:43am

" great fucking job, damon. hilarious, really ! why not start a fight on the night someone's fucking murdered. genius ! " loud nonsense from a split - opened mouth. they're not speaking to anyone in particular, but their own reflection in the dirty mirror. they're not sure how bad they look, but they're definitely going to feel it in the morning. head, swimming. knuckles, aching. " gonna have a blackeye ... christ. " they smack their own face just to feel the sting. spring themselves from the disorientation of adrenaline and mixture of alcohol.

this is their cue to stop mulling and find a place to sit until the crowd settles down. slip away with an opening. otherwise, who could say they wouldn't start another fight? with their unsteady movements ... a threat of this already appears. shoulders knock into someone and they're immediately scrambling back like a wild animal. " shit — " their hands move in a sporadic manner of surrender. palms up, moving around in a circle in front of them. " sorry. i'm sorry — not trying to start anything else. swear it. "

FOR : ha - jun ! @redcreekfm / @newwayin . LOCATION : REDSTONE BAR . TIMESTAMP : aprox 2:00am .

it's a goddamn disaster everwhere damon turns. its only been an hour since a fucking body was found ( ah, redcreek ! word travels as fast as lightning here ! ) and everyone is up in arms. there's whispers about the resurgence of the boogeyman, eyes of fear and anger all around as the celebration ends. people are rushing home, gathering into groups to thwart any other attempts within the night. however — like anyone else who couldn't stomach the thought of going home — damon finds themselves at the bar.

three drinks down, each one burning their throat harder than the rest. a prick of regret settles in the churning pit of their stomach. if it was going to be this packed, maybe he should have just went home. too late to decide now. the crowd at the door makes it impossible to sneak through without irritation. god damon is so irritated. they're sitting at the bar with the chatter around them growing by the seconds. they're trying their best to steel it, bite their tongue not to involve themselves. such is their knack, their nature. involve themselves, get to know everything and nothing all at once. damon just couldn't tonight. they decide they have to go. with a fourth drink emptied the second it met their fingertips, they jump to leave. ( here we fucking go ! the path towards nirvana awaits ! )

practically shoves through the crowd to get a single inch to his mile. shoulder - to - shoulder. sorrys here and sorrys there. at least people are aware of their panic, the tension they're pouring into the already thick air. they make it to the middle and feel confident in their escape — but their thin cord of patience snaps with a shove. single hand with force to the back which nearly sends damon to topple over another anxious patron. this ... this is what finally involves them. a hot flash of anger, adrenaline and the night's tension balling up their fists. " what the fuck, man ! " not a question. demanding, aggressive. they whip around and make the connection of hands, to body, to face. if they knew hajun, it doesn't register. it doesn't matter. what registers first is the arched swing to a jaw. " i get it's a sardine cane in here, but you're messin' with the wrong fucker right now. "

" you know what ... after the evening i've had ? why not. " she matches the volume over the music, smoothing down the front of her daphne dress. a small tear, poorly put together with a safety-pin at her side, proving to be the source of her frustration. the spin takes her off guard, makes her sputter off something close to a laugh. a squeeze is given to the fingers interlacing hers, but a brow promptly arches upward. " have you already started drinking, kennedy? "

location : the dance floor @ the warehouse

time : approximately 10:30pm.

open : to anyone!

“are you thirsty? wanna grab a drink?” kennedy half yells into the other’s ear, yet her voice is barely audible over the music pumping around them. fingers flutter down the other's arm, ready to grab hold of their wrist to lead them out of the dance floor or loosely interlace her digits with theirs to twirl them around. depends on their answer!

( samuel larsen . masc nonbinary . they / he ) . ⸻ damon del valle , a thirty year old , has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for their entire life . the charlatan is known for being charismatic and factitious and is often associated with always  having  a  smile  on  your  face  ,  but  it  doesn't  seem  to  be  good  natured  /  always  seems  to   have   something   tucked  behind  that   smile   that's   mischievous  ,   knowing  everyone   doesn't  actually  meaning  knowing  who  they  are  and   the  same  goes  for  you  …  maybe  everybody  knows   your  name  ,   but  who  are  you  really  ,  charisma   gets   you  far   and   you  know  it  and  thinks  it  saves  your  face . in a small town where they work as a tattoo artist at devil’s ink word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that  [ THIS PAGE APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN BURNT ] .

full name: damon del valle. nickname(s): n/a, but you can try. age: thirty. zodiac sun sign: scorpio. birth date: october 27th. gender & orientation: masc nonbinary, they + he & bisexual. place of birth: red creek, michigan. occupation(s): tattoo artist at devil's ink , various other sidegigs. familial ties: single mother, only child and it shows. height: 6'0".

CHARACTER INSPOS : sand ( only friends ), zack taylor ( power rangers 2017 ), todd chavez ( bojack horseman ), nick miller ( new girl ), joel ( santa clarita diet ), kon el ( dc )

FAST FACTS ⸻

damon is a longterm resident of red creek and it shows and anyone who was in their graduating class remembers them for his antics. classical rowdy teenager into disaster of an adult, but they're not a terrible personal believe it or not! extremely approachable, can chat anybody up at a bar ... they seem to be everybody's friend. however, nobody seems to really know who they are at their core.

close with their mother and still frequents her two - bedroom home. above all else, their mom is their world. growing up it was just the two of them and despite his wild behavior ... he does his best to keep from disappointing her or letting her figure out what he does in his freetime.

a tattoo artist, but that isn't his only job. damon has been seen working at auto shops, running ubers and doordash, volunteer work. it seems they're always doing something for quick cash. most people just assume they're money - driven, but there's always a reason for everything isn't there?

has a variety of tattoos and piercings, too many to count actually. started getting them in their senior year of highschool and it became a right of passage for their main passion of tattooing. at the end of the day, they're a creative soul and find tattooing to be the easiest way to express their creativity and share it with others. their creativity also shows through eccentric style and their knack for putting on makeup.

( willa fitzgerald . cis woman . she / her ) ⸻  effie floyd , a thirty - three year old , has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for five years . the spitfire is known for being observant and outspoken and is often associated with string  connecting  on  the  corkboard  between  newspapers  new  and  old  and  people  around  hidden  in  the  recesses  of  the  mind  ,  speaking  first  and  asking  questions  later   /   words  are  a  fire  on  the  tongue  and  passion  a  flaw  and  a  reward  ,   strong  and  steady  hands  doesn't  mean   they  don't  shake  /  it's  just  hard  to  see  it  if  you're  not  looking . in a small town where they work as a journalist at the register word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that [ THIS PAGE CANNOT BE FOUND ].

full name: effie lianne floyd. nickname(s): ef. age: thirty - three. zodiac sun sign: virgo. birth date: september 15th. gender & orientation: cis woman, she + her & bisexual. place of birth: philadelphia, pennsylvania. occupation: journalist for the register. familial ties: estranged from her family back in philly. has one younger brother. height: 5'5".

CHARACTER INSPOS : gale weathers ( scream ), shinya kogami ( psycho - pass ), miranda priestly ( the devil wears prada ), madeline usher ( fall of the house of usher )

FAST FACTS ⸻

left philly due to an explosive fight with her mother and discovering that she had been cheating on her father for years. she'd always felt there was something off about her mother's relationship with her father and almost became obsessive with uncovering her suspicions. at twenty-six, she discovered the truth after following her mother on one of her "girls' night out". due to the rift this formed in the house, effie decided to take her journalism degree and relocate. she's been on the move since this rift and keeps no contact with her family members. instead, she throws herself into work.

before settling in red creek, effie took up plenty of brief stays throughout different towns. her interest in stories and tales guiding her heart from place to place. she holds a keen eye and knack for sleuthing, often landing her either in trouble or an acclaimed column within papers or online journaling sites. in a way, maybe she is more comparable to a private investigator. however, she tries not to throw herself that deep into her interests. key word: tries.

her interest in red creek soared at the mention of the killings and the growing tension of potential resurgence. before her move here, she had began taking an interest in true crime and specifically cold cases and urban legends. she has a journal of things of note surrounding motives and rumors. a part of her thinks her mind is infallible and can be useful in areas seperate from recording daily lives and new trends within journalism.

her personality can be a bit stifling towards new people. direct, haughty and hypervigilant it's hard to feel like you're not being studied. she separates her friends and private life as best as she can, but effie is nothing but obsessive.

potential for more tba . .. ..

# 𝗖𝟬𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗗𝗢𝗧𝗦

dependent blog for @ redcreekfm . the ink on the paper is running ...

𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗜𝗘 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗗 — thirty3. journalist @ the register. willa fitzgerald. 𝗗𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗗𝗘𝗟 𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗘 — thirty. tattoo artist @ devil's ink. samuel larsen. 𝗔𝗕𝗘𝗟 𝗗'𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗢 — fifty. co-owner of redstone bar. laz alonso. 𝗠𝗔𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗞𝗢𝗩𝗔 — twenty6. nurse @ red creek hospital. harris dickinson.