cleo couldn’t help but suppress a giggle, an odd feeling of satisfaction overcoming her as she watched him finally give up on the books. if you asked her, she had yet to ever meet a college student that was wasn’t miserable. it kind of eased her regret of not going. perhaps some people were just meant for small towns like this one. “forget wracking the web for cheat sheets. i think you should just take a break altogether. your brain is fried. that’s why nothing is registering. also there might be something weird in the water here, you never know.” she joked. the town they were in could very well be considered some people’s worst nightmare. but, hey, there needed to be somebody to make some lighthearted fun about it. cleo made a mental note to herself to stop being such an optimist all the time, though. they always die first. “to be honest, what i really think you need is to do something fun.” she suggested. “like about your uncle. forever, you say? what is he, some type of vampire?”
“i mean, you’re the voice of reason here. can’t say no, really.” of the two of them, it was clear which one had more sense left in them. fin couldn’t even think to check google a few minutes ago. so if cleo said he needed a break, who was he to argue? ultimately, fin nodded his head in agreement. “fun, huh? got anything in mind?” because right now, his mind fell right to his go-to: a trip to the liquor store, a solid park bench, and finding the end of the bottle as the sky grew dark. “you know, i never asked about the vampire thing so i can’t really say. but he does like garlic so odds are he’s just odd.”
Ambrose gave the man a small smile. “Coffee it is. I’ll give you my specialty.” Ambrose began to work his magic behind the counter, concocting to the perfect coffee. He put it into a small mug and passed it along to the man sitting in front of him, giving it a little nudge. “The secret is cinnamon. It makes it all the more better.” He gave him another smile and held out his hand. “The name’s Ambrose, by the way.”
as the other walked away, fin, with palm pressed to the cover of his textbook, closed the book with a satisfying slap. he needed five minutes at least. ideally more. ideally forever. “cinnamon,” fin repeated, as he leaned down and sniffed the mug of coffee. fuck. yea, that shit smelled delicious. maybe this kid really did know what he was talking about. after a good, solid sip, fin was quick to nod his head in approval. “alright, yea. that’s pretty fucking good. only thing missin’ is some bailey’s but hey, can’t knock you on that,” he chuckled softly before going in for another drink. “fin.”
a distracted gaze falls upon the stranger. there is a mental distance between rory and the question he heard, and it takes him a few seconds to blink back into reality– it’s a common response after being interrupted while he’s reading, which happens more often than he’d like. not because people particularly enjoy interrupting him, but because rory is reading frequently enough that people have no choice but to do it.
“ econ… not my favorite subject, but i’ve taken the class, ” the words are slow, considering, recalling the topic. he puts his book down and leans closer attentively. “ what are you struggling with, besides the crushing weight of how the course manages capitalism through an alarmingly casual lense ? ”
“thanks, man,” he replied, breathing a sigh of relief as he nudged the textbook closer in the other’s direction. now, he didn’t much to go off— just the guy’s general look and the fact that whatever words were coming out of his mouth sounded like intellectual gibberish — but fin had faith in the stranger. more than he had alone, at least. “probably the better question is what aren’t i struggling with.” a flip through the pages proved that. first glance? nope, didn’t know that. next term? yikes, even worse. and the end of the chapter? fuck. “i think the first question’s asking about consumer equilibrium or something.”
location : outside after dark
time : ~11:00 am
status : open
phoenix looked down at the shattered remains of her phone before gingerly picking it up in an attempt to not cut herself on the shards of glass. she tried to power it back on, but it seemed that it was not going to happen. it was toast, that much was clear. “so,” she mused, “think i could get away with saying this was normal wear and tear?” the question was more of a joke at her misfortune than anything else, but she was really regretting not getting that extra insurance when she’d bought it a few months ago after losing her last one at a sorority party. and she was regretting not backing it up anytime since. “this seriously blows. all i wanted was to go home and hibernate, and this is what i get.”
crawford had positioned himself against the outside wall of after dark. his shoulder pressed into the siding and a cigarette was set between his lips. his nightly ritual of dragging himself around town had just begun. a sleepless night lay ahead. a quiet one would have been ideal— but, well, that’s what you get for loitering outside a twenty-four hour diner. crawford sighed as he picked up his head to look at phoenix. “damn,” he replied dryly. “that really is the end of the world. call in the reinforcements.”
╰ °✧ ( PAUL WESLEY, CISMALE, THIRTY-THREE, HE/HIM ) : — ❝ here comes crawford barrow to help guide the tour ! they’ve lived in deadmore for thirteen years and do know that the myth is true. besides helping guide you all today, they are also a stagehand at deadmore grand carnival ! they’re known around town for being industrious, hardy, self-preserving, and irritable. they’re said to give off a calloused palms, a knife hidden under the bedroom pillow, a battered pickup truck on its last leg, & a warning glare of ‘keep your distance’. some people suspect that they're hiding that they let their childhood best friends die in his place. hopefully the town and tourists don’t find out ! ❞ — penned by ( dew, she/her, 25, est )
**DEATH TW
thirteen years ago crawford and his two childhood best friends, grady and mercy lynn, were going on an impromptu roadtrip during their college spring break. a luck would have it, their car broke down. the closest town? deadmore.
the trio stayed at the devil’s backbone for the night. crawford’s friends opted to stay in that night, but he wanted to explore. and on his self-guided tour of the town, he ran into a local. who said they could show crawford the real deadmore.
they were true to their word. after a few stops around town, they led them to overgrove park. that’s where he came face to face with the truth.
sparing the details, crawford was nearly sacrificed. he begged for his life. and when that didn’t work, he offered up someone else’s. because why choose him, just one tourist, when they could have two?
the local must have seen something in crawford, because they agreed.
crawford chose to stay in town. after the decision he made that night, it felt like there was no turning back. he couldn’t sit in class and see the empty seat. or go home and see the tears in they eyes of their mothers. the memories were too difficult.
the memories keep him up most nights. he used to spend a lot of time tossing and turning. now he usually just goes for walks.
works as a stagehand for the carnival. so he helps set up booths and does some of the behind the scenes “magic” at the circus. kind of an every man with no grand expertise, just basic knowledge across the board.
he drives a pickup truck that should have died a long time ago but is somehow still running. it stalls, locks him out, and makes concerning noises but he won’t get rid of it. it was grady’s.
his participation in the sacrifices can be summed up as “as long as it’s not me.”
although she earned her bachelors and a secured internship at the local elementary school , there’s still a state-administered exam she needs to pass . it’s hard to concentrate now , it being that time of year , but morgan knows she can manage ; she just has to . so every moment she gets , she’s held up in the library , studying and living off multiple cups of coffee . it’s her current plan anyway — until she hears a voice call out . stopping in her tracks , supplies in one hand and coffee in the other , her expression morphs into one of momentary confusion . econ ? she doesn’t , not really , and she knows she’s busy with her own studying to worry about someone else’s . though that wouldn’t be very ‘ morgan keizer ’ of her to turn down helping someone , now would it ? with a small sigh and smile to match , her eyes glance towards the other’s paper . “ admittedly , no , ” she responds finally , apologetic in her tone . “ but … i guess i can try to help for a little , right ? after all , isn’t the saying ‘ two is better than one ’ ? ”
regret was practically instantaneous. sure, there was a smile on her face and she sounded helpful but he snagged a glimpse at her own study pile. “shit. sorry, i didn’t see you were busy,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of her word station. “you don’t have to worry about it. i can probably just ask my uncle to help me later.” asking was a sure thing but acquiring said help would depend on multiple factors. for one, fin actually remembering, and next for his uncle to be in that rare mood where he’s not grumpy. the outlook was slim but, honestly just the same as it would be sitting here. “that, uh... looks like a lot.”
Ambrose was in the middle of a long shift at the Hot Java Joint. The morning rush was finally over and he had a chance to actually breathe. He gave out a small sigh and began to clean the counters around him. A voice from behind him made him pause mid clean. Oh god.. not another asshole customer. Please be easy. He turned around and saw someone struggling, head buried in his hands. He gave him a small smile. As he spoke, Ambrose approached him. “I can’t tell you the last time I took an econ class… but I can sure try and help. How’s that? I’ll give you a coffee on the house.”
fin looked up at ambrose, face scrunched up as he suddenly found himself on the fence: caught between what he should be doing and that nagging desire to just put it off. that was what he did best. “how ‘bout we go with the coffee first? think i could use it.” he placed his pencil in the crook of his textbook to bookmark the page. then, sitting back, he craned his neck to peek at the menu. “i usually just go regular. never tried much else. got anything good?”
she shrugged in partial agreement, taking another sip of the drink. the sugar definitely made it a lot better. “ we’re kind of exclusive, me & the cocoa. coffee is too bitter — ” although the cocoa isn’t much of an improvement, until the sugar is added. “ and milkshakes are cold. i prefer hot drinks. they… put my mind at ease, i guess. ” she considers another sip before slowly setting it down, lost in a moment of thought. “ i’ve never tried the french toast here, though. is it any good? i’m more of a waffles person. “ definitely also the kind to drown her breakfast in syrup or powdered sugar. she’s a definite sweet tooth. then, she finally notices the odd thing that’s been ticking at her brain. she hasn’t seen this person before. usually, she’s familiar with most in town. not that she’s spoken to everyone but she tends to keep peoples faces in mind. “ you’re not a tourist, are ya ? i don’t think i’ve seen you around before. ”
the cocoa he got. the coffee thing, yea, he could kinda understand that. but that last one had his head cocked to the side, bewildered expression painted across his face. “who has a thing against milkshakes? is that even a thing?” fin inched his plate toward her. “want a bite? look— there’s a solid corner there i haven’t touched.” fork acting as a pointer, he gestured in the direction of a remaining half. personally, he wasn’t concerned about sharing. clearly. plus it wasn’t like he had anything. “no, uh, not a tourist. don’t really know what i’d be categorized as but i came down like... i don’t know, last winter? you probably know my uncle. atticus crowe.” fin paused for a moment before deciding to throw in, “you know, the creepy old guy with the apartments? him.”
cleo was still in her party clothes from the night before, pouring over several different books of lore all at the same time. several dirty looks had been pointed her way. maybe it was because she still reeked of alcohol and cigarettes or the fact that her work area was so scattered. libraries were supposed to be places people generally minded their own business, but, of course, that wasn’t the case in this town. cleo sighed as she scribbled a couple key phrases down, her thoughts being cut short when a voice sounded beside her.
“econ? i’m not even sure i know what that is.” she admitted, shrugging sheepishly. “i’m sure if you look hard enough online though there will be answers or a cheat sheet somewhere. aren’t most professors lazy anyways?” she suggested. cleo had never gone to college, so she wasn’t sure if she could be much help except for suggesting he take some shots on his study breaks. “say, do you know anything about how the carnival first got started around here?”
fin sat back in his chair, staring off into the distance, cleo’s words settling in. it was so obvious. why was it so obvious and he hadn’t thought of it? “fuck, you’re right,” he said, finally blinking and coming out of his daze. well, that settled it. fin closed the cover to his economics textbook with a satisfying slap. as of now, he was officially clocked out of homework duty. “you said the carnival?” he asked, wanting to make sure he heard right. after all, he owed her one now. “yea, i don’t know much of anything about it. been to it like once.” it’d actually been twice but the last time he was much too drunk for it to count. “you know... my uncle might though. he’s like... been here forever.”
all presley wanted was a glass of soda and something interesting to happen. when the only other patron of the diner decided to speak, a smile made its way onto her face and she turned around to face the speaker. “sounds like a universal problem. my expertise is in how to pick up envelopes of cash and occasionally swipe a card.” despite the clear lack of understanding, she wasn’t passing up the chance to finally do something… even if it sounded entirely boring. drink in hand, she made her way into the booth directly beside him. “whatcha looking at though. maybe if we pull a frankenstein and stitch together our brains we can figure it out.”
envelopes of cash? unsure, fin flipped the page of his textbook back and forth. no, didn’t look like that was mentioned in this chapter. unless there was something he was missing, which was very likely the problem. “uh, yea, but fair warning: i think this thing’s only operating at like thirty percent,” fin replied as tapped two fingers against his forehead. he scooted down the booth, giving presley enough room to not just sit but to see the chapter that was giving him trouble. “ever heard of aggregate demand? i’ve been working on it for, like, maybe twenty minutes and... all i’ve got is that it deals with all final goods. like the total of them or something?”
textbook cracked open in front of him and as fin stared down at the page, all he could think was ‘what the fuck.’ had they covered this in class? a pointless question considering fin had fallen asleep mid-lecture earlier in the day and then missed the day before. “sorry—” fin picked up his head. he didn’t want to interrupt. it was just that he was desperate: both to pass and to not have to look at these equations any longer. “i just... you don’t happen to know anything about econ do you? it’s just, my brain... it’s not really working right now and i could use the help.”
𝑰sis was never in a location you would typically find her. being that deadmore is the only place she’s ever been in, exploring the town is the only way to keep her from going stir crazy. of course, a days worth of adventure is sure to wear someone out, so she always ends up at after dark diner at the oddest hours of night. usually, she’s only accompanied by some teenagers avoiding curfew or some officers just off their shift but at this ungodly hour, it’s quite barren save for one other soul. she orders her usual cup of cocoa & silently creeps up on the other guest. “ you know, most people would suspect you’re up to somethin’, being out this late… ” such a hypocritical thing of her to say, of course. she sits down next to them, with no permission but her own. “ want me to tell you a secret ? ” she reaches across the table for a handful of sugar packets, pouring them into her cup. “ the cocoa here sucks. it’s always too bitter. ”
"think the only thing suspect here is that cocoa,” fin countered just before stabbing his fork into a chunk of his french toast. he’d never actually had the opportunity— if you could call it that — to drink the local hot chocolate; he was partial to the coffee with a contingency that he was able to slip some bailey’s in it. right now the couple empty bottles of nips sat in his backpack, once the only company he’d had at the booth. “so are you like... a glutton for punishment or just really desperate for cocoa? either way, i mean, i get it. just curious.” a thought he punctuated with another shovel of breakfast food.
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