The air here never quite felt right. It lacked the heavy, familiar humidity of Cousins Beach—the kind of summer heat that clung to your skin, tangled your hair, and always tasted faintly of salt. Belly had been here for a few months now, yet every morning she woke up half-expecting to hear the distant, rhythmic crash of the ocean, or the sound of Steven and Jeremiah arguing over who got the last pancake downstairs. Instead, there was just... this place. She pulled her sweater a little tighter around herself, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. It was such a stark, jarring contrast to her last real memory. Whenever she closed her eyes, the vividness of it almost physically ached. *The volleyball tournament.* She was right back on that hot sand, the blinding sun beating down on her shoulders. She could still hear the crowd cheering, a deafening and happy roar. She remembered looking over at Jeremiah, feeling that sudden, warm rush of certainty. It had felt like the start of something real. Like she finally knew exactly where she was supposed to be. And then... she stepped into a shadow. The cheers had faded into static, the heat gave way to a sudden chill, and the bright summer day collapsed into whatever reality this was.*I’m twenty-two,* she reminded herself, a daily mantra she refused to surrender. *People my age don't just die in the middle of a game. I'm just late for dinner. I just can't find my way back.* They had asked her the question—the same one everyone here eventually faced. *Do you want us to find your body?* They told her it would help her move on, that she would disappear from this strange limbo. But moving on sounded entirely too final. Belly had spent her entire life waiting for summers to start, waiting for her real life to finally begin. She wasn't ready for it to just *stop*. She owed it to her mom, who she knew was probably falling apart while pretending to hold it all together. She owed it to Steven. To Conrad. To Jere. She refused to become just another ghost story they shared, another grief they had to swallow.So, she had said no. *Don't find me.* Belly let out a soft, shaky sigh, her sneakers scuffing against the pavement as she aimlessly wandered down the sidewalk. Her gaze drifted toward the horizon, her heart stupidly searching for the silhouette of the summer house, but finding only the unfamiliar architecture of a town she didn't belong in.Lost in the memory of a summer that felt like a lifetime ago, she didn't realize she had drifted off the edge of the sidewalk until she practically walked right into someone."Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry!" Belly gasped, taking a quick, startled step back. She offered an apologetic, albeit slightly weary, smile, tucking a stray piece of dark hair behind her ear. "That's completely my fault. I was a million miles away just then... I guess I'm still trying to figure out my way around."
tessa had been standing just off the sidewalk where the path widened into a quieter strip, watching a small cluster of birds pick at something near the curb—nothing important, only a brief, ordinary moment of movement she had found herself observing with idle interest. then the impact came suddenly from behind her. it pushed her a fraction forward before she caught her balance. turning around, her hand lifted instinctively to steady the girl by the forearm before she tumbled. tessa released her at once as she startled backwards, and stepped half a pace aside to make room on the narrow stretch of pavement to give her space. up close, she could see it more clearly now—that unfocused look, as though the girl’s attention had been pulled somewhere far beyond the street entirely. "a million miles away," tessa said softly, more observation than remark. a faint understanding settled into her expression, quiet and certain. "i’ve been there," she added in attempt to comfort the other. most everyone here has been lost a million miles away at some point. "is there anywhere particular you are heading? perhaps i can help direct you."
lydia caught sight of her and went still for half a second, like she’d run into something she couldn’t immediately process. they weren’t particularly close. their relationship could be summed up to lydia rolling her eyes whilst cora made threats. but, nevertheless, the redhead's eyes never left the werewolf as she approached. scanning her in quick, precise passes, assessing for damage that she knew wouldn’t exist anymore "cora..." she started, breath tight, gaze still moving over her face like she was trying to piece something together. "how are you here? was it jennifer?" her voice sharpened on the name, quiet but intent, green eyes finally holding the werewolves. a beat, her jaw tightening slightly. "is anyone else—" she couldn’t bring herself to say the word 'dead', dreading the answer to come. "are my friends okay?" she asked instead.
vivi paused her own browsing, stepping away from a rack of admittedly confusing denim to look over at the dress daphne had pulled. a bright, genuine smile crossed her face as she took in the sight of the other girl holding up the garment. "i might not know exactly what paris in the nineteen-twenties was like," she admitted with a soft, melodic laugh, "but if it looks anything like that, i would say you've captured the feeling perfectly."stepping a little closer, the blue-haired princess reached out to gently brush her fingers against the delicate lace of the lavender satin. "the color is absolutely beautiful on you, daphne. it compliments your hair so well." vivi tilted her head, imagining the elaborate rooftop party daphne had described. "you would definitely be the most glamorous person there. it really does look like it was practically made for you to find."
"well, when you put it that way…" she mused, smoothing the satin over her waist as she turned toward the mirror, clearly and completely swayed by vivi’s encouragement. "i think it would be practically irresponsible not to take it home with me." her gaze snapped back to vivi, suddenly bright with inspiration. "however," she countered, pivoting toward her and lightly catching her wrist, her excitement soft but unmistakable, "i can’t be the only one serving rooftop glamour!" her eyes swept the racks with renewed purpose, like she’d just appointed herself stylist-in-chief. "come on—if i’m doing 1920s paris at midnight, we are absolutely finding you something just as unforgettable."
junho dropped by second threads partially to see if they had something like sweats or t-shirts that didn't look like it was from decades ago. some other part of him was also curious about the people who once were here and clothes sometimes could tell how a person lived their lives. her words pulled his attention away from a rack filled with sweatpants, tilting his head slightly as he took a look at the dress. "i'm not from the 1920s. nor paris. it does look glamorous," he replied. was this place had been around since 1920s? that was an interesting thought. "but i think i'm the wrong person to ask."
"well, neither am i," daphne countered, "but, like, i’ve seen a movie set in the time period, and this looks exactly like something they wore," she assured him with certainty. smoothing the fabric once more before decisively adding the dress into her overflowing buy pile. her gaze inadvertantly drifted to what he was wearing as he spoke before flicking to the rack he was browsing through. "yeah… you might be right about that," she agreed candidly. "i’m guesing your aesthetic is more the ‘throw-on-whatever-is-easiest-and-call-it-a-day’ kind. i know the type well." instantly a man who favored spice and a lime green t-shirt with maroon pants popped into her mind. however, she stopped herself short of becoming too sentimental. it didn’t do well to dwell on life pre-death. with that thought pushed to the backburner, she quickly added, "do you want help picking something… else?"
@bloodlvced sent : for buffy: 🔪 : what would they do if survival demanded cruelty?
buffy would simply not survive. as the slayer she is no stranger to causing harm and death or committing torture for the greater good. but that is towards monsters and it was done to save the millions of people in the world. if survival demanded cruel behavior towards humanity— to those who are innocent— then it is not a world worth being part of. morally, she can eliminate a thousand vampires, but harming a single person? she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. it would be better to not survive at all.
daphne blake lingered between the racks at second threads, idly flipping through a hanger before letting it fall back into place with a soft rustle. “okay,” she exclaimed, turning her focus from the variety of clothing towards the other in the shop. “this place is like the world’s chicest time capsule. i mean—,” she lifted up a soft lavender satin slip dress trimmed with delicate lace at the hem, holding it up against herself with a thoughtful tilt of her head. “isn’t this, like… so effortlessly glamorous in a ‘midnight at a rooftop party in 1920s paris’ kind of way?”
jason todd ( @deciphcr ) : “Could this get any worse?”
lydia’s gaze dropped to the papers scattered across the library floor. "well, we could be dead— oh wait." the corner of her mouth lifted, the joke light but deliberate, like it might make the mess feel smaller than it was. "at least tell me the pages are numbered?" she asked before crouching down to help him collect the papers.
@deciphcr sent for buffy & jason : 📚 : for a line from a random book
↪ plant lady by kang minyoung
buffy startled awake, a sharp inhale catching in her throat. she grimaced as a dull throb pulsed up the back of her neck, fingers instinctively moving to work out the kink. somehow, she’d gone from studying to a full rem cycle right there in the middle of the library.
“oh. you haven’t gotten off work?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but her voice was still thick with sleep. she lifted a hand in attempt to cover a yawn that slipped out. she had no idea how long she’d been out, but she was pretty sure jason had already been on duty when she first came in, so, best-case scenario, it was just a quick, totally-deniable catnap and not the kind of full-on, drooling-in-public sleep that would haunt her forever.
i swear i’ve seen THERESA 'TESSA' GRAY around renata before… it could just be that they remind me of LIVE BEFORE I DIE by MARINA KAYE. people say the ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FOUR / TWENTY-ONE year old showed up ONE YEAR ago. just… appeared, like the rest of them. the last thing they remember is PERFORMING THE SHADOWHUNTER CHILDREN'S RITUAL ON CLARY WITH MAGNUS. but no one ends up here by accident, and sooner or later, everyone gets asked the same thing — do you want to be found?
what’s your name?
"tessa gray," she replied curtly. this scenario seemed familiar. memories that she hoped to be long gone by now, stung like new. the dark sisters and the torture she endured at their hands. had she been abducted? and what happened to her powers? she couldn’t shapeshift no matter how hard she tried.
what’s the last thing you remember before you got here? take your time… you don’t have to remember everything. anything you can remember is enough.
"i was with magnus and brother zachariah helping out a friend." tessa spoke calmly and vaguely enough. while she was on guard of the two men, they had yet to use alternative methods. she also needed to give the allusion of cooperating to sus out what their intenions were.
do you remember how and where you died?
"died?" she remembered the person by the tree saying that, but she thought it to be a joke. surely she couldn’t be dead… if she could die, she would’ve done so long ago— many times over. "you must be mistaken. i can’t be dead. it’s curious how i came here from new york, but death…" she chuckled humourlessly, "impossible."
is there anyone who might still be looking for you? family, friends… anyone at all? do you want us to contact them?
she stared at the people before her for a long moment, reading their demeanor. either they were terrific actors, or they were being sincere in their inquiry. "magnus bane, new york. he’ll know what to do."
now, the most important,do you want us to find your body? if we do, that means you’ll move on… that you’ll disappear from here as well.
"yes." the answer was easy. she wasn’t one who took her life lightly, but the pain of outliving her loved ones was draining. she had already lost her husband and children… she still had jem… but she was faced with the opportunity of relief. she couldn’t pass it up.
ooc:
here we have my favorite little bookworm tessa. she’s been through a lot, and her final answer is depressing af but if she comes across will or her children here, the answer will change without a second thought. she’s quite a curious person and still in a bit of denial, even though it’s been a year lol. she does her own researching in her free time to see what strange type of downworlder world this could be. you can find her at the library and occasionally picking up shifts as a nurse when the clinic is low on them.
feel free to assume connections, she’s been here for a while now, so it’s not weird to think your muse might know her or of her. she could go on and on about books as well for other book fans. she can quote a tale of two cities word for word, so if your muse enjoys that book it’s like instafriend status.
🏠 : what part of their living space reflects them the most?
that’s an easy one. her closet, by far, is the greatest representation of her. the space is never out of date, curated to her tastes, and filled to the brim. the rest of her apartment is still her, but much more toned down and restrained for sensible living. not to say there isn’t a touch of purple in every space possible.
🪤 : what pattern do they keep falling back into?
sigh. being the damsel in distress. she has a black belt in karate, has taken self-defense, and a master of tai chi. and yet, she still, somehow, is the one who keeps getting kidnapped!
🛏️ : how do they sleep when things are bad?
daphne first tires out her body to the point of exhaustion. if not, she wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. her mind wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about all the bad. then after a hot, refreshing shower she doesn’t bother with turning on the lights and immediately dives into her bed. as soon as her head hits the pillow and she is engulfed with an extra large, extra plushy blanket, she passes out.
i swear i’ve seen BUFFY SUMMERS around renata before… it could just be that they remind me of JUST A GIRL by FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. people say the TWENTY-TWO year old showed up TWO YEARS ago. just… appeared, like the rest of them. the last thing they remember is ANGEL DRINKING FROM HER. but no one ends up here by accident, and sooner or later, everyone gets asked the same thing — do you want to be found?
what’s your name?
"summers comma buffy, or more affectionately known as the slayer."
what’s the last thing you remember before you got here? take your time… you don’t have to remember everything. anything you can remember is enough.
she closes her eyes, lost in the flashes. angel on death’s door… a cure. then the metallic scent of blood filling the air. the feeling of pain and ecstasy. but buffy doesn’t mention any of it. "graduation day is tomorrow… the ascension— i’m supposed to be saving the world right now."
do you remember how and where you died?
"in sunnydale.." she glanced up at the other two, distrust written all over her face. "i can’t really remember how," she lied.
is there anyone who might still be looking for you? family, friends… anyone at all? do you want us to contact them?
"yes. you need to go and tell my mom, joyce summers, and my watcher, giles. my friends as well… just tell them," she paused, trying to think of what could make their grieving lessen. "tell them i’m at peace."
now, the most important,do you want us to find your body? if we do, that means you’ll move on… that you’ll disappear from here as well.
"yes.. as soon as possible. i would like to have my message not be a lie." because more than anything she just wanted to be at peace.
ooc:
here we have buffy. i’ve pulled her around the end of s3/beginning of college. would've done later so she would know dawn and tara, but depressed buffy depresses me 😭😭
she’s still her peppy self and fighting internally with how much she enjoys life here. she knows she has a mission, that if this is a hell dimension she should be fighting her way out and helping others as well. but she is happy to be normal again. to not missing out and fighting for her life every night.
connections wise: would love, love, love friends for her. but also other college students or professors as she will be a student. a potential love interest? she’s been here the longest of my muses, so you can just assume connections with her. or if you want to plot hit up my plotting call.
𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: daphne ann blake 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 : danger-prone, daph, little girl 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 : human 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : chaotic good 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 : crime fighting with cash, crazy prepared, little miss badass 𝐦𝐛𝐭𝐢: esfj 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜: gemini 𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 : 2w3 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 : sloan 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐞 : felv
i swear i’ve seen DAPHNE BLAKE around renata before… it could just be that they remind me of PRIMADONNA by MARINA. people say the THIRTY year old showed up THREE WEEKS ago. just… appeared, like the rest of them. the last thing they remember is FLYING TO SPOOKY ISLAND. but no one ends up here by accident, and sooner or later, everyone gets asked the same thing — do you want to be found?
what’s your name?
"daphne blake, you might know me from my show coast to coast with daphne blake. it’s very nice to meet you two."
what’s the last thing you remember before you got here? take your time… you don’t have to remember everything. anything you can remember is enough.
"ummm, getting on a plane to spooky island. i was on my way to solve my first solo case."
do you remember how and where you died?
"i just remember the captain’s panicked voice then… nothing. so, plane crash in the air?"
is there anyone who might still be looking for you? family, friends… anyone at all? do you want us to contact them?
"even though i’m not talking to them right now— the mystery inc. gang, of course. they were with me on the plane, but i hope they survived"
now, the most important, do you want us to find your body? if we do, that means you’ll move on… that you’ll disappear from here as well.
"no. if it’s between existing and not existing, i definitely want to still exist. even if it’s just here. i am very flexible. i’ll adapt."
quick info — daphne is a mix of all the canon. so, her show "ghost to ghost with daphne blake" is a play on "coast to coast with daphne blake" from zombie island, her martial arts skills from the 2002 films, her family is old money rich and basically supplied her with a blank check to fund their investigating. of course, that was at the beginning of their adventures and nowadays they can make money on their own now that they've made quite the name for themselves. but with the mix of canon, she is also a mix of the investigating side and the paranormal one. that is reflected in her choice of occupation. so, she is a private investigator by day (mostly petty things like theft or affairs) then does a ghost-type podcast by night where she interviews the townspeople. she is quite reckless with her own safety and will often be found where she isn't meant to.
she's been here for a year, so feel free to assume connections when interacting. i'd also love all the plots for her, so hmu or react to the plot call when i eventually get one up.
also not me somehow showing the absolute opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to answering the interview questions
i swear i’ve seen LYDIA MARTIN around renata before… it could just be that they remind me of I CAN’T BREATHE by BEA MILLER. people say the TWENTY-FIVE year old showed up FOUR MONTHS ago. just… appeared, like the rest of them. the last thing they remember is JENNIFER BLAKE STRANGLING HER. but no one ends up here by accident, and sooner or later, everyone gets asked the same thing — do you want to be found?
what’s your name?
lydia walked into the former interrogation room of a rundown police station, confusion etched in her expression. she somehow found her way as if she was in one of her fugue states. the men asked her to sit, and that was when she finally woke up. she stared down the two in front of her. are they angels? if not, demons? as a woman of science, she used to not believe in either. but she also never believed in werewolves either. "are you saying you don’t just know? the person by that tree said i was dead… so am i a ghost now? what even is this place?" the two men didn’t respond, giving her space to come to terms. exhaling a deep breath, she answered, "it’s lydia martin."
what’s the last thing you remember before you got here? take your time… you don’t have to remember everything. anything you can remember is enough.
"mrs. blake… she was strangling me and she said i was—" she hesitated, the word banshee was on the tip of her lips, but she held back. she claimed to be something, but never that. "who knows what she was saying. she’s obviously had a psychotic break of some sort."
do you remember how and where you died?
"screaming," lydia whispered. "i died screaming, in a classroom at beacon hills high school. god, could it have been any worse?"
is there anyone who might still be looking for you? family, friends… anyone at all? do you want us to contact them?
"my mom, obviously, natalie martin. my friends— allison, scott, stiles." she paused, considering if ignorance would be bliss for them, but quickly shook the thought away. it was better to know, and they need to know about the danger near them. "yes. i need you to warn them about jennifer blake."
now, the most important, do you want us to find your body? if we do, that means you’ll move on… that you’ll disappear from here as well.
the redhead stilled. she’s barely adjusted, how could she know if she wanted to leave? if anything, she had to hold on to warn her friends. "so is this more like a purgatory?" she questioned herself quietly. "for now, i’d rather stay," she finally answered with determination.
ooc: SO, just know that i went extra here & probably won’t for my 4 other intros lol. anyways, here is lydia. she’s fresh off of mid-season 3-ish. she just found out that she is a banshee, but then died so she barely had time to come to terms with it. she is working as a maths professor.
and, yeah, if there’s anything else you’d like to know feel free to hmu. otherwise, would love to plot or just throw caution to the wind and improvise. for quick specific connections: students, teaching assistants, hookup, friend(s).
