NIGHTS AT REDSTONE were rarely dull and tonight was no exception. with a good hour still left before closing, joey has already had to throw a handful of people out. everyone was on edge. the news of kirby's death seemed to have lit a fire under the town, sparking a desperate need to escape the so-called ‘deadcreek curse’ that has fallen on them again. was it grief the town was feeling? fear? whatever it was, it was making everyone act like idiots—and it was starting to piss joey off.
“i need a shot.” she announces, pushing herself off the counter and turning towards a stack of freshly cleaned glasses. she picks one up, pauses, then glances over at the figure on the other side of the bar. "you gonna be a prick and make me take it by myself?"
𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. deer lake, late afternoon on the day of kirby's death.
𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵. anyone! ( capping at five replies. )
〔 🐿️ 〕 ... “ 𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻, 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗱𝗶𝗲? ” carlos remarks, a plume of smoke from their cigarette and the cold air escaping their lips with every word. he didn't know the girl well, if at all, really, but it's all anyone could talk about today and if he didn't bring it up, it would be a little weird. it isn't that he doesn't care — of course, the whole situation is unsettling and there's a inkling perturbation that swirls within them at the notion of a killer on the loose in such a small town, but it seems easier to pretend that this is all one big joke than have to face the reality of it. it's all he can do. “ is this guy fucking ugly or something? are they trying to reverse pretty privilege? should i have to watch out? ”
"WELL SHIT ─ i don't know. let me get a good look at you." it's not the smartest move to remove her sunglasses with the hangover she was currently battling, but joey will do anything for a bit. a bloodshot and squinted gaze lands on carlos, taking a moment to analyze him before offering a slow nod. "oh yeah. you're fucked, kid. got a big ol' target on that pretty forehead of yours. you better watch yourself out there . . . would hate to be down an act." with that, she places her sunglasses over matted curls, now fixing her eyes on the lake before them. “you know what? i think you might be on to something. whoever is responsible for this has got to be a real nasty son of a bitch.” and ugly. down to their very fuckin' core. “ so . . . is this everything you hoped for when moving to this shitty little town?"
DUSK SETTLES OVER THE TREES. a sight that vikram once found comforting now feels tainted, weighted with an ominous note. as if the town is holding it's breath, fearing for the news of yet another tragedy break by morning. it feels like only yesterday he had been tasked with putting alaina price back together, and now? kirby sloane’s body lies cold in the fridge of his home. still. silent. a far cry from the woman he’d spoken to on halloween. in vikram’s line of work, it’s often that he is reminded of how short life can be. how limited everyone’s time on earth is and how those left behind are almost always left yearning for the same thing . . . to be allowed more.
fingers tremble as he presses the doorbell, the sound echoing through the quiet of the evening. “hi.” he breathes out, a whisper of relief escaping him the moment the she opens the door and their eyes meet. she’s still here. they still have time. “are you busy tonight? can i . . . do you mind if i come in?”
♡ 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 ─── starter for anyone / open.
♡ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ─── near deer lake clubhouse.
♡ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ─── around sunset time.
a deep inhale and smoke fills her lungs, nothing in particular on her mind; exactly the way she likes it. she does realize it's maybe not the best idea to stand all alone, with the light of the sun going away, when there's a killer on the loose but... what else is there for her to do? stay cooped up at home while her parents attempt to poke at her psyche? oh no, she's choosing the faster way out instead.
at least that's what she thought until a sound suddenly startled her and made her look back. a hand coming to rest on her chest ─── willing her heart to calm down ─── as she zeroes in on the approaching figure. " can i help you? "
FROM YOUTH VIKRAM HAS always had a knack for sneaking. a light step paired with a preference for skulking in the background made it easy to go unnoticed. still, it was rarely his intention to scare anyone so as he approaches mina he makes the attempt to announce his arrival with a cordial “good evening” . . . only to startle her regardless. of course she would be. there's a goddamn murderer on the loose. “oh! no, i wouldn't dream of bugging you about my computer problems outside of business hours ── sorry." he offers a faint, awkward smile. “i didn't mean to spook you. i just came to uh, look at the scenery. it's nice, isn't it?” when there isn't body being fished out of the lake, that is.
location: dolly's diner
time: late afternoon
status: open!
something about diners. greasy leather seats. overheard secrets tangled up with the clatter of forks. bitter, often stale coffee -- unless you got lucky enough to walk in when the place was mostly empty. unlikely. the kind of place where time hangs heavy, like it got tired and sat down to rest in the corner booth. red creek felt the same, like it had long surrendered to time’s weight instead of running alongside it. no reinvention, no salvation -- just a stubborn place clinging to people like mud after rain, or maybe quicksand, tugging until they sank without a fight. soren didn't have to imagine dark things haunting its bones when its effect where already laying there, sprawled out for anyone willing to see. maybe ancient spirits seeking revenge after having their forever homes suffocated with asphalt and cement. maybe nothing at all, just the weight of a town folding in on itself, vanishing into a fog you didn’t know you’d entered until it was too late. soren wouldn't flinch if someone shattered the silence with a lynchian scream -- sinister close-ups, faces trembling under the pressure of things better left unsaid -- right there in the diner, right as he staed at his gone stale coffee. and perhaps it was his obsession with intricate stories that blurred the line with reality, but twin peaks really didn't feel like fiction anymore; it was a blueprint, a warning for places like this, where the mundane teetered on the edge of surreal, where time sagged, like peeling wallpaper in a room sealed off for too long, and good people stumbled into band endings. even diners -- those greasy churches of familiarity -- could warp into confessional booths.
soren let his face fall into his hands, elbows propped at the sides of the cup of coffee. if it had been steaming, it would've made a perfect shot. “ you know what's bullshit, ” he spoke as soon as he felt a presence next to him finally glad to push his inner monologue onto someone else, anyone unlucky enough to hear. he continued as his hands dropped to his lap, revealing a face worn thin by restless nights. “ the fact that they made it illegal to smoke in public places. especially diners. ” though it wasn't just diners. it was also cinemas, trains, pubs.... a beat. then two fingers lifted to his lips, mimicking the pitch of a cigarette between index and thumb. soren inhaled theatrically, face tilting upward as though savoring the hit. then, just as theatrically, he ground the phantom amber into an imaginary glass ashtray, the kind with ornate edges. clock. sound design coming from his tongue against his palate and he swat the phantom ashtray away, still dipped in his interactive daydream.
"UH, HARD DISARGEE." kennedy is quick to refute. they always found smoking to be a nasty habit, convinced it was something only a masochist would enjoy. they tried once in college, shortly after starting their internship because they figured it would make them look and feel more grown up in the room full of journalistic big-shots. men who took their jobs and themselves WAY too seriously. smoking might not have stuck with kennedy but the underlying pretentiousness that came from it? that was still up for debate. "chicken and waffles with a side of lung infection does not sound like an appetizing combo to me." now settled in the stool, they turn their head to witness the full display of soren's theatrics, elbows propped on the bar in front of them. they observe him carefully, making no move to interrupt his performance. a respectful audience, one that makes sure to wait the customary extra beat to ensure the show is over before offering their reaction. “wow." there's a hint of a smile there, perhaps the closest they have come since the news of the recently departed – or rather – recently SNATCHED. they lean ever so slightly in his direction, nose scrunching up as if they are about to deliver some harsh news. "sounds to me like you might just have a little bit of an addiction there.”
the news breaks, as does half of red creek alongside it. there's an unfair lump lodged in santiago's throat. he wasn't close to kirby ; her death was not his to mourn, and yet ... he sits in the back pew of redemption chapel, hands wound in his hair. it was between here & the cemetery— the weather chose for him. he breathes in, has a hard time breathing out. halloween night plays through his mind. ❝ i asked about her name. ❞ he wants to laugh at the memory, but doesn't have the heart. a puff of frustration leaves him instead, ❝ grow up in a box like red creek & i still had to ask for her name. jesus– ❞
CHURCHES MADE KENNEDY UNCOMFORTABLE. anything that has to do with divinity or a higher power did. her guard has been up since the moment she stepped foot into the chapel, sharp gaze set on the praying priest just a couple pews ahead of them. a stark contrast to her more doleful stepbrother beside her. "if it makes you feel any better, i doubt that was what KILLED her." the words are delivered in a deadpan tone, making it hard to decipher if that was a callous attempt at a joke or an inside thought that was not meant to see the light of day. perhaps it didn't truly matter. not when the possibility of another tragedy was beginning to feel less like a threat . . . and more like a promise. with so much to lose, how could she possibly give herself the space or even the time to mourn? “i think it's one of the newcomers or – no. maybe someone who was around for the original murders. someone old enough to remember. or maybe it's both. maybe jacob thorne has a long lost sibling that's come to town to take revenge." too many questions, not nearly enough answers. “what do alaina price, daniela estrada, and kirby sloane even have in common?” aside from being a couple of bad bitches.
// ( natasha lyonne . cisfemale . she/her ) . ⸻ JOANNA ‘JOEY’ HARLOW, a forty four year old, has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for her whole life . THE BROKEN RECORD is known for being audacious and destructive and is often associated with cackling laughter over loud music, chipped red nail polish, a pack of camel cigarettes tucked in a back pocket, a crude sense of humor . in a small town where they work as the owner of redstone bar, word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that [ REDACTED ]
𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: the trailer park life, sobriety chips scattered on the floor of a 1985 ford f150, making a bad situation worse, gaslighting yourself into believing you’re tougher than you really are, constant reminders of everything you've lost, looking for dopamine in the worst places.
[ Ⅰ ] . . . 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒
full name. joanna mae harlow. nicknames. joey, joe, jm. age. 44. race. white. nationality. american. birthday. december 21st. zodiac. sagittarius. gender. cisfemale. pronouns. ( she / her ). sexual orientation. pansexual. birthplace. redcreek, michigan. occupation. owner of redstone bar.
[ Ⅱ ] . . . 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘
mother : helen harlow
father : cameron harlow
siblings: tristan harlow ( presumed dead ) , might make a wc for more siblings!
[ Ⅲ ] . . . 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓
TW: brief mentions of death, grief, & substance abuse.
* in a small town where everyone knows each other, it's easy to get an idea of someone's character just by the stories attached with a surname. for the harlows, their name was often associated with trouble because wherever there was any to be found, it was almost always guaranteed that a harlow kid was involved in one way or another.
* comfortably nestled in a trailer park just a couple blocks away from the main road, this family of misfits were known to be loud, crude, and quick to piss off. damn proud of it too -- wore the title of redcreek's trashiest family like a badge and joanna harlow was no exception.
* a firecracker of a kid, known to have the mouth of a sailor and the disposition of a renegade. she had a talent for playing the bass guitar, a talent that she gained from her older brother - tristan. it was an ongoing joke that joey was tristan's mini-me. they were the spitting image of each other, both in physicality and temperament.
* joey was nineteen when tristan went missing and that was when her world turned upside down. her family were among the many broken by the events. many in her inner circle felt like they had to distance themselves from joey, finding her familiarity to tristan too much to handle, including her own parents
* TW: DRUG MENTION: so with everyone in her life too busy dealing with their own grief, joey all but isolated herself further by turning to the first break she could find – drugs. she had her first taste of them when she was looking through tristan's room, in search for answers to what could have happened to him. instead of a note though, she found a stash of fine white powder tucked in little tiny ziploc bags.
* the rest of her life from there has been a blur. she never left redcreek. never managed to fulfill her dream of becoming a big musician. somehow managed to sober up and gain enough money to buy a shitty building and turn it into what is now known as redstone bar.
* one doesn't always know what they will get with joey. she’s just as likely to start a fight as she is to offer a drink so most people tend to proceed with caution.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : a girl who was set on a path of bad decisions by her rambunctious family grows to become a mess of a woman, ricocheting between recovery and relapse. her dreams of leaving town and becoming a rockstar were squashed the moment her brother went missing. punk meets small-town hick.
[ Ⅳ ] . . . 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─── all connections are open to any gender unless specified otherwise.
// ( destiny ryan. non-binary. she/they ) . ⸻ KENNEDY STUART , a twenty eight year old, has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for eighteen years and has been back a couple of months . THE PRODIGY is known for being ambitious and calculative and is often associated with murmured self-affirmations, a creeping curiosity, doing whatever it takes to exceed expectations, picture perfect smiles, pristine trophies on full display . in a small town where they work as a journalist at the register and an author, word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that [ REDACTED ]
𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: being the golden child, a gnawing ambition, restless nights, being a pawn in your parent’s game, the need to be ten steps ahead, doing whatever it takes, always comparing yourself to others, when will it ever be enough?
[ Ⅰ ] . . . 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒
full name. kennedy noelle stuart. nicknames. ken, kenny, . age. 28. race. black. nationality. american. birthday. may 20th. zodiac. taurus. gender. non-binary. pronouns. ( she / they ). sexual orientation. pansexual. birthplace. redcreek, michigan. occupation. journalist
[ Ⅱ ] . . . 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘
mother : suzanne stuart herrera
father : marcus stuart
stepfather: jonathan ‘jon’ herrera
stepbrother: santiago herrera
[ Ⅲ ] . . . 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓
∗ kennedy was marcus and suzanne's last-ditch effort to stabilize the marriage between a narcissist and a small town primadonna. the attempt lasted for a few years on and off which resulted kennedy having to spend their early years alternating between two homes
∗ kennedy was the spitting image of the both of them and the two were painfully aware of it, pushing the young kid to be the best version of themselves . . . they just had different definitions of what that was.
∗ for marcus, it was a sharp mind. days with him usually consisted of activities that involved intellectual improvement - playing chess, reading books, watching documentaries. as for suzanne, she preferred more physical charms - sports & beauty pageants mostly.
∗ the combination resulted in a kid who's learned quickly that they earn most praise when they are not only good at something... but better than expected. a mindset eventually turned to a desire at being the best in whatever they set out to be.
∗ in 2006 suzanne started seeing a local man named jon hererra and before kennedy had a chance to process their mother's new relationship, they were asked to pack their bags to move in with this stranger and his son, santiago herrera.
∗ while kennedy's father was still in their life, it was apparent that he had decided to take a step back ( no doubt betrayed by how quickly his former wife moved on ) and began only taking kennedy on the weekends.
∗ life with the herrera's was different. suzanne had taken to bragging about her child's achievements. an energy that their stepfather quickly matched . he became invested in advancing kennedy's talents, perhaps hoping that their excellence would rub off on his son.
∗ unfortunately, kennedy had a hard time relating to santiago. perhaps it was the age difference or the resentment in their parent's union. whatever the reason, it made building a healthy relationship difficult.
∗ kennedy tended to focus on their academic pursuits instead. editor of the newspaper, head of the speech and debate team, goalie of the girl's soccer team... they had their hands full! eventually they graduate with honors and got accepted at NYU on a full ride to become an investigative journalist.
∗ after college, they booked a job at the new york times amd became a travelling journalist, moving from country to country to write pieces about whatever was relevant.
∗ during their travels they came across an interesting case that was ongoing in italy. there was a unexpected string of murders happening in a small countryside town and with the help of the local police department, it was determined that the local catholic priest was poisoning the offerings during their mass and would either pretend to heal them with the power of God or let them die.
∗ the article kennedy wrote didnt garner much attention but they were so invested in the story they decided to write a book about it named 'death at the altar' and lo and behold - it became a best seller!
∗ it was such a hit that kennedy had to take a break from their journalistic endeavors to go on a book tour. as exciting as it was, kennedy found it awfully tiresome.
∗ after some thought and some nudging from their mother & step-father, kennedy decided to take a break from it all and move back home. they took up a job at the local newspaper because they figured it would be easy. some fluff pieces here and there while they focus on their next big hit. it's red creek, michigan after all. nothing ever happens here.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : a smart kid who watched their parents divorce and was forced to join another family along with her outrageous mother. left town as soon as she could but recently decided to move back home after writing a best selling true crime novel named 'death at the altar'.r'.
[ Ⅳ ] . . . 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─── all connections are open to any gender unless specified otherwise.
wc pinterest | wc tag
[ Ⅴ ] . . . 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘
＋clever ＋analytical ＋curious
－unsympathetic －stubborn －judgmental
mbti : ESFJ
natal chart : ↑ capricorn, ⊙ taurus, ☾ cancer
inspired by : gale weathers ( scream ), nancy wheeler ( stranger things ), monica geller ( friends )
blakekathryn
izzy806
stormborns
theartofmadeline
2087
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