young and menace. @bodhicollins - Tumblr Blog

gramaro·:

There was a time when Grainne was happy to call Hollowick home, as happy as Bodhi seemed to be in that moment. Her youth was spent so frivolously that a day didn’t go by when she didn’t have a smile on her face, or what she would consider a great tale to tell any ear that would listen. Even after all that happened in 2000, Grainne still found ways to make great memories and friends. Now she wasn’t so sure. It felt like nothing had changed, and as she approached her thirtieth birthday, there couldn’t have been a more bittersweet feeling. “You really like it here that much?” Bodhi’s excitement did put a genuine smile on her face, and added a softness to her tone she wasn’t sure she’d ever shared with him. She was glad he moved on swiftly to a crude comment, it meant she didn’t have to linger in sincerity for too long, and he had her laughing and rolling her eyes for what would definitely not be the first time that evening.

As he took his phone out to share his findings of the day with her, Grainne leaned closer over the bar to get a better look. No one had ever shown an interest in the mundane quite like Bodhi had before, but he had a knack for making it sound far more intriguing than Maurice probably could. “If you like weird shit like that you should visit Ethel just up the road. She’s been felting with her cats’ hair for years. Apparently she even uses fur that they cough up.” Grainne grimaced, but there was a smile behind it somewhere. “Or just spend every day in here like I do. The amount of shit I overhear is insane.” She paused for a second, realising her words. “Oh God, do not take that as invitation please.”

Bodhi takes another sip of his beer. It feels smooth enough on the way down. Half the bottle down and he swears he can feel himself already feel a little lighter. Maybe food would be the next option. But not yet. A nod follows, smile still wide on his features. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t lie about it. If I hated it here, I would say it just as plain. I don’t really see the need to sugarcoat things. Usually anyway.” Fingers picking at the label, he glances at Grainne. “But, yeah. I like Holllowick. I think it’s resilient. It sucks that it has to be. Don’t you? Like it here I mean. Or... is it weird to be the place with the major unsolved serial murders.” Her laughter puts him at ease. His shoulders tensing bringing up the sordid past. They’ve never really discussed it, not fully. Not in so many terms.

He flips through the pictures excitedly, pointing out a few things he couldn’t get out of his head. “Felting cat hair? I guess if you’re going to do that, you shouldn’t waste it. Where exactly is she? I’d actually love to meet her. I bet she has some stories.” He can’t help but shake his head in disbelief. Every town has their share of eccentrics. Hollowick doesn’t seem much different. “Oh, wait. Are you finally admitting you want me around more? Grainne, I knew it! All you had to do was ask.” Putting up a finger, her smirks at her. “It’s not a half bad idea actually.”

#interactions.#ft. grainne

BONUS EPISODE

Welcome back to a special bonus episode of Tunnel Vision. As most of you know, I recently moved to Hollowick. Yes, that Hollowick. I know many of you think I’m crazy for doing this, but you can’t understand a crime without understanding the people. It seems the investigators are leaving no stones unturned this time around. I got dragged in for an informal interview. The next fifteen minutes are that interview unfiltered and uncut. I never want to be accused of editing anything to make me look better in any light. So make of this what you will. I’m actually impressed. It seems they may be learning from past mistakes.

As always, if you have any information about the murder of James Mason or any of the prior Reaper victims, please reach out to the Hollowick Police Department. Any and all help is appreciated. Now, without further ado, enjoy.

#hollowick.cd #shoutout to luna for the spotify edit

gramaro·:

Hollowick seemed to have its own gravitational pull, one that sucked people in and rarely let them go. How many people could she honestly say that she knew that had fled the village for good? Only those who she had truly lost had escaped its clutches. No one ever really left Hollowick. “Well, you’re one of those people now.” She commented, sounding a lot more chipper than she actually felt. In a way she wished Bodhi had never come to Hollowick, at least then he wouldn’t be caught up in its clutches; now he was doomed like the rest of them. But on the other hand, she was glad he did. It made her own torment more pleasant, though she’d save that thought for herself. “You might be my favourite twat, is that good enough?” She smiled, a light chuckle escaping her. He sounded so genuine when he asked her to elaborate on her day, but Grainne couldn’t quite bring herself to trust him. For all she knew, she’d end up the next feature on his podcast, and have the rumour mill of gossip drag her name around its circles. She just couldn’t take that risk, so she did her best to not allow herself to get comfortable around him, even if there was part of her that wanted to. “Honestly, don’t trouble yourself. It’s boring. There you go, actually; it was boring. Pigeons sound like far better conversation. Tell me more about that.” Okay, so she hadn’t quite grasped the art of deflection, but she gave it a good effort.

The statement makes him instantly feel warm. He can feel the genuine way she means it. Or he takes it that way. Being the youngest of five means sometimes he was overlooked. By the time he was born, his parents were tired. It was up to Bodhi to find his own way and his own entertainment. Nothing was ever truly just his. It suited him fine because it made him dig and claw for things that he wanted. Now, a part of his journey brought him here, to this very pub sitting across from Grainne who loved to tease him as if it were her actual job. “You think I get a free t-shirt now? Resident of Hollowick. Trademark at the end.” Her next statement causes him to almost double over in laughter. He’s suddenly glad he didn’t take a sip of his beer before she said it. He hates to think about her reaction if she spit it all over her bar. “Your favorite twat? Fuck. The honor. Twats are amazing. One of my favorite things in the world, so...,” he trails off and pretends to swoon.

Settling back down on the chair, he takes another long pull from the bottle. He studies her. The way she quickly shifts the conversation off her makes his eyebrows rise. “Something about the way you’re saying it’s boring makes me think that you’re lying. But I’m a good ear if you need it. Totally off the record.” He sighs before pulling out his phone to show her the pictures he shot. “His name is Maurice. Weird man, but very knowledgable. You’d be surprised at how people on the fringes observe.”

#interactions.#ft. grainne

gramaro·:

There was an essence about Bodhi that reminded Grainne of the days she used to spend travelling, a sense of frivolity that almost made her want to put on her hiking boots and go on an adventure. If she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t felt that freedom for years. Settling down in Paris was wonderful and she truly considered it a second home, but she lost a part of herself the moment she signed the lease to the apartment, and that adventurous flair only sunk deeper and deeper as time went on. Now, she was up to her eyebrows in enough responsibility that it almost made it impossible to throw caution to the wind. Almost. She wasn’t as much of a lost cause as she would have herself believe. “An episode about pigeons, huh? To be fair, you might broaden your audience there. You know, to a bunch of old, boring people.” She smirked, letting her playful gaze linger on him for a moment before turning to fetch him a drink. She grabbed two bottles of beer, removed the caps and slid one to him, keeping the other for herself. Should she be drinking her own stock? No. Was anyone going to stop her? Absolutely not. “My day’s been… Well.” She simply tilted the beer in his direction as an informal ‘cheers’ and took a swig, allowing that to be her answer. “If you were entertaining I’d hire you for a Friday night. You’re just an ever-so-slightly above average method of killing time.”

Bodhi scoffs and rolls his eyes. It’s all banter and something he’s grown to look forward to. Ruffling his fingers through his hair, he plucks the bottle off the counter and takes a long pull. It slides down smooth enough and he lets out a content sigh. He wonders about Grainne. A little research doesn’t tell him much and his brain never stops being curious -- a blessing and a curse. “An episode about pigeons? Come on, Grainne. Don’t be daft.” He shakes his head in disapproval before leaning on the counter. “I’m trying to get a sense of what it’s like living in Hollowick. Not just the ugly side of it. What it’s like for people like the pigeon breeder or you. If that makes sense. Hollowick is more than just the scene of several tragedies. The people here prove that.” His tone turns into almost awe. The tenacity of the residents makes him toy with the idea of moving here more permanently. Something about the place gives him hope for the rest of the world. He hold up his bottle and gives her a small nod. “No, no. You don’t get to wave off the day. Talk to me.” He scoffs and drums his fingers of the polished wood bar. “I will take what I can get from you. But we both know I’m your favorite.”

#interactions.#ft. grainne #we love to see it

ramonachiltern·:

Ramona gave Bodhi a look, eyebrows raised at his little comeback and a smile just waiting to happen. “Someone’s feeling sassy today. But yeah, thank you, I did,” the manager began, playing along, “I’d love for you to buy a round and give this place some money, yeah, thanks for offering,” Ramona retorted, a smirk appearing on her lips as she kept her eyes on the man. At his next words, Ramona let her playful smirk turn into a victorious one —- like clockwork, Bodhi asked for her suggestions. And like clockwork, she’d give them to him. “We got the soup of the day, the lasagne is amazing as always, you got the slow cooked lamb pie, shepherd’s pie and fish and chips, of course.” There was a whole menu worth of suggestions — Ramona made sure only the best was on there. Upon hearing his question, Ramona felt something change within her, knowing that a lot of the extra clientele the place got were tourists that were there for Horrorwick. “Oh, you know. Just enough. I mean, it’s not slow but it’s not packed either. I prefer days like this,” Ramona began, “The tourists might be too busy prancing about to plague this place.”

Bodhi can tell she’s so close to breaking into a smile. It usually takes a few minutes of coaxing, but he’s fairly sure he hasn’t been unsuccessful yet. “Sassy? Me? Hardly. Just proud of you.” He rolls his eyes playfully before pointing at a random beer on tap. He was determined to try everything on the menu at some point. It was a bit of game now. “Give me that. Might as well treat myself a bit. I’ve earned it.” Finally earning his smile, he can’t help but echo it back. The familiarity between them was a sense of comfort in a place that was out of his depths. He was slowly falling in love with Hollowick -- the Green Dragon one of his favorite places in the whole of England. “Slow cooked lamb pie? You’re fucking with me? I’ll start with one of those. How could I turn that down?” He’s not sure he’s had a bad meal since turning up. Maybe the question sausage roll on his way into town, but he didn’t want to linger on the after effects of that particular act of bravery.

If he wasn’t paying attention, he would have missed the subtle way her body language changed. But Bodhi was attuned to other people and how they reacted to things. He tilts his head, concern etched across his features. “You alright?” He asks it softly so other patrons don’t overhear their conversation. “Have you ever heard of the dancing plague of 1518?”

#interactions.#ft. ramona

gramaro·:

Though she kicks herself for it immediately after, Grainne can’t help but laugh at the showman. She would be willing to bet money that he was in some sort of drama club as a kid, but the two of them hadn’t really discussed much past each the surface. That seemed to be enough, though, for the time being. Besides, it didn’t seem like they would ever run out of conversation anyway, not with Bodhi being as outlandish as he was. “Who told you you’re my favourite? They’re gonna get fired.” She teased, leaning on the bar across from where he was now perching on a stool. “Wow, really hard-hitting stuff there.” She smirked, an eyebrow cocking, though she did feel like indulging him. It really had been a slow day. “Tell you what, you put some money behind my bar and I’ll let you tell me whatever other interesting ‘facts’ you uncovered today.”

The laugh makes Bodhi break into a wide grin. He can feel the weight of his thoughts lift a little. He can organize his recordings and thoughts later. Right now, he owes himself a drink or two. Not enough to get sloppy, but enough for his grin to grow more lopsided. Resting his chin on his elbow, he looks over Grainne, eyes softening. “I think you just confirmed it, Grainne. I can see it written all over your face.” He lifts his other hand to wave a finger in an erratic pattern to highlight her face. “You gonna fire yourself? I’d miss you, but Ramona would still be here to roast me daily.” He picks up a drink menu and overlooks it before glancing back at her. “How about you pick something to serve me? I’ll order a few and you can listen to what I got today. You should feel honored at this point. A first look into my next episode.” He sighs sagging a little more into the stool. “How have you been today? Probably bored, right? No me to keep you entertained.” He was curious about the woman behind the bar, but felt it wasn’t right to push her.

#interactions.#ft. grainne

lorenmartinez·:

Loren’s eyebrows lifted as she regarded the man, a flicker of bemusement crossing her features. “Fair. Or the Halloween theme,” she conceded. “If that comes up on the ‘eerie music’ playlist, I don’t care about the cost of admission. I’ll probably bolt.” Exposure to classic horror films had come later in life, in her teenage years, during sleepovers and movie nights with friends. The piano cue from the Halloween series was enough to strike fear in her heart; it had been no exaggeration on her part that the song would be cause for her to flee the attraction after years of being nightmare fuel. Just the thought of it sent a chill down her spine. “It’s my first time here, so I haven’t really seen anything just yet.” Looking past him, she stepped closer to examine the casting he’d indicated and considered his theory that the print belonged to someone on the scene ⏤ either one of the teenagers who had found the body of the as-yet-unidentified man or one the detectives who had shown up to investigate ⏤ and not the killer. “So you think the initial investigators were incompetent?” she asked, in an attempt to confirm what could be easily deduced from his allegation. Glancing away from the messy ridges of the footprint, she looked up at him. It seemed to her that he was knowledgeable about the murders, or at least aware of some of the inconsistencies flagged by those who had made it a hobby to discuss the case online. “Ruling out the footprints of people on the scene sounds like bare minimum crime scene management. It would be a pretty big oversight on their part if they hadn’t done as much.”

His eyebrows shoot up almost into his hairline as he looks her over. “You know the playlist is named Horrorwick: The Experience. Or something equally as terrible.” Bodhi puts up a finger as his eyes widen. He’s doing his best not to end up laughing in the middle of a murder museum. Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair. “Wait, the Halloween theme is where you draw the line? Did you happen to watch that movie way too early in your youth and now it’s tied to that traumatic experience or do you hate intense piano themed music? Important question.” He can’t really blame her. Something about that theme filtering in around them surrounded by supposed artifacts of The Reaping would leave him unsettled also, but he learned to deal with trauma by humor.

His eyes widen as he does a sweeping gesture. “Well, welcome to the shittiest place on earth. You’re going to hate it here and if you have critical thinking skill, you’ll discredit almost everything in this place.” He doesn’t tote how many times he’s actually visited because that’s his own business. “Do I generally think the original investigators bungled the case? Yeah. Do I think it’s because they took casts of muddy footprints to rule out suspects? No. I think the museum is morally bankrupt for trying to totes this as more than it possibly could be. That’s all.” He mentally curses the museum director, middle finger directly to the sky. “Are you the police? Am I going to get arrested for expressing myself? I’d rather not get arrested. I just think incompetence shouldn’t be overlooked.”

#interactions.#ft. loren

shimmeringjinx

Casey Deidrick in Think About You video by JoJo

#visage.

jihasbest:

( open starter . location ; the rusty acorn . time ; too early in the morning )

a black tea sits idle between jiha’s cupped hands as she stares out the window , at a small group of curious & awed faces. it isn’t often that she catches the tours in action up close ; it doesn’t matter how few new residents know her relationship to one of the reaper’s victims , it still feels like a neon sign. perhaps she would have rolled her eyes , scoffed years ago when the renowned horrorwick first debuted in her hometown. but over the years jiha has learned simply to look away. she doesn’t fancy introspection , anyway.

and now that she has indulged in such , if only slightly , a sarcastic comment is far past warranted from a passive aggressive extraordinaire, “like we’re animals in a zoo.”

tea was a must. it doesn’t matter when the need strikes him, bodhi knows he can trust the rusty acorn to fulfill his needs. stomach grumbling could be handled at another venture, but his fix had to be satisfied now. walking around the horrowick group ( larger than the one’s from yesterday, he noted ), he slips into the tea house. ordering his drink, he moves through the room to find an open table. the voice draws his attention. rusty acorn wasn’t known for it’s colorful commentary or lively action. he expected that mostly from the pub or the pigeon ‘breeder’ on the south side of town.

without an invitation, bodhi pops down in front of the woman with a grin. “are you one of the animals in the zoo in this metaphor? fitting behind the glass window.” looking out the window, he wiggles his fingers at the passing group.

#interactions.#ft. jiha

lorenmartinez·:

at HORRORWICK with @bodhicollins·.

Horrorwick ⏤ quite a gauche name for the main tourist attraction in town, if an appropriate one. Taking her change and ticket from the disinterested employee stationed at the booth in the entranceway, Loren pushed through the turnstile and glanced about the place as she made her way into the museum devoted to the terror The Reaper had unleashed on Hollowick. She had spent the previous night holed up in her cabin, combing through hundreds of reviews and blog entries written about the attraction to get a better sense of what to expect, as well as what to look out for. The official Horrorwick website gave little away; protecting their investment, the owner had made sure to keep the details scant and the featured images carefully framed to avoid giving away what was promised to be “a bone-chilling good time.” Accounts of guest experiences seemed to overwhelmingly recommend the tour of notable sights around town, but Loren felt drawn to the museum, if only because of the controversies surrounding the authenticity of the items displayed within. There were a few blogs dedicated to debating the legitimacy of the evidence, though most of the entries were several years old and lacked the substantive evidence necessary for her to make a determination on either side of the theories circulating online.

The museum was quiet at this hour ⏤ she had made the executive decision to visit the attraction first thing in the morning, at opening, to avoid the congestion that came with the high levels of tourist foot traffic. Only one other visitor was milling around when she entered the first room. Loren couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she registered the music playing overheard. Some reviews had warned of tacky elements, but she hadn’t anticipated this. “Am I losing it,” she began, pointing upward to indicate the speakers positioned in the corners of the room as she turned toward the stranger, “or are they playing the theme song from The Exorcist?”

First thing in the morning was the best time to visit the museum. He hadn’t visited that often during his one month here ( no matter how many times the docent waved at him and said his name ). It was to do research. Each artifact was more interesting than the last. Most of his research was done to figure out the authenticity of each item. He kept reaching out to the Horrorwick director for an interview, but each time a new excuse was offered. Sooner or later, he’d wear them down or bump into them in town. It was part of the reason he kept hitting up the museum at odd hours. But this morning was to gather his thoughts. It wasn’t to double or triple check facts. That was for another day, perhaps tomorrow. Today, he was staring at each item and almost trying to gather its energy. Mentally, he was trying to organize his next episode.

Lost in thought, he doesn’t notice the women enter this section of the museum. Bodhi should perhaps be a little better about people creeping up on him with serial killer on the loose. The question makes him whip around almost tripping over his feet. His ears perk up at her mention of the music before her dramatically rolls his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? At least it’s not ki ki ma ma from Friday the 13th? Or maybe that plays later in the day.” He jerks his thumb at the exhibit he was just studying. “Have you seen this? Allegedly a cast of a muddy footprint found outside the cabin of the first victim. I bet it belongs to one of the teens or investigators.”

#interactions.#ft. loren

gramaro·:

starter for @bodhicollins· !!

Ever since she was a child, Grainne preferred the busier times in the pub. Back then it meant there was always someone she could talk to even if they didn’t want her to, but now it meant she had something to keep her busy. She was stuck in an odd limbo of wishing the days away yet wanting time to stand still, with no time to focus but far too much to think. That evening wasn’t particularly entertaining, though the glimpse of an overly flashy shirt in the corner of her eye told her that that was about to change. “Oh, look who it is.” She turned to Bodhi, a wry smile on her lips, trying not to let on that she was actually somewhat glad he’d turned up. “You not got your tin foil hat on today?”

Feet sore, Bodhi realizes he’s been exploring Hollowick for almost the entire day. The sun’s begun to lower a while ago and he knows it’ll soon be too dark to stay much longer in the woods. Not that he’s scared of anything lurking, but better to be safe than sorry. He was sure his mother used to tell him that. A pint or two would do him well before he went through all his audio for the day. He could edit all day tomorrow if he wanted to call in an early night, but something told him he wouldn’t tolerate it. The familiar voice immediately pulls him out of his thoughts. Doing a little twirl, Bodhi ends it in a soft bow. “It is me -- your favorite patron.” He give her a little tip of an imaginary hat before climbing on a stool nearby. “Quit acting like I’m not the best company you’ve had all day. I don’t delve in conspiracy theories, Grainne. I deal in facts. Did you know you have a pigeon ‘breeder’ on the south side of town?”

#interactions.#ft. grainne

ramonachiltern·:

starter for @bodhicollins·

Things at The Green Dragon were slow — not bad slow, just… not overwhelmingly busy — so much so that Ramona was just standing behind the counter, mindlessly scrolling through her Instagram feed with a cloth over her shoulder. Her eyes would look at the front door each time it opened, both out of habit and because her eyes just shot up every time, without her even meaning for them to. And on one of those times, she came across a familiar face. A small, amused smirk appeared on her lips as she watched the tall man making his way towards the bar. “It’s lunch time,” Ramona began, looking at Bodhi, “are you going to tell me what you want to eat or are we doing what we always do?” And by that, she meant she would be the one choosing something from the menu.

Stomach growling, Logan knows there’s only one spot in town worth its weight. A few interviews in the morning didn’t really pan out much, just what daily life is like around Hollowick. A newer resident could only attest to the most recent murder. Thoughts slipping away from him as his feet went on autopilot. It’s his routine these days -- Green Dragon to be harassed by Grainnne or Ramona. Pushing open the door, he tries to fight the smile threatening to grow and fails. “Did you learn to tell time in the span of a night then? Proud of you. Should I buy a round to celebrate?” He raises his eyebrows almost comically as he climbs into the chair across from Ramona. Eyeing the menu, he leans across the bar. “So, what do you recommend for a growing boy that’s starving?” A lopsided grin follows as he settles back down in his chair. “The place been busy today?”

#interactions.#ft. ramona

hey, hello, hola! i’m jess and i’m playing this chaotic idiot, bodhi. he has his own podcast and an extreme love of loud and tacky shirts. i’m so excited for this game and so down to clown with every single one of you.

#hollowick.intro

jacobelcrdi

#visage.

jacobelcrdi

#visage.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

young and menace.