i can’t be sure, but i think i just saw CLARA WOJDA drive onto the parkway. don’t they know we’re not supposed to be driving on that haunted road right now? maybe it has to do with the fact that they’re so +RESOLUTE and -CALCULATING that makes them feel EXCITED about everything going on. i guess we could also chalk it up to the fact that they’re always reminding me of FLICKERING CANDLES, STARLESS NIGHTS, OVERGROWN MEADOWS either way, i hope they get back safely.
heyyy y’all! i’m cora (she/they) and i’m so excited to get started! (also hit my DMs or discord killercora#6480 for plotting...please...i beg of you)
I. BASICS.
Name: Clara Margaret Wojda (she/her)
Age: 25
D.O.B.: June 6th, 1995
Sexuality: Bisexual
Chart: gemini sun, capricorn rising, virgo moon, taurus venus, virgo mars
Occupation: Candlemaker and part-time fake psychic (come get yer palm read)
II. OVERVIEW
tw: crime(?), child neglect, drug use
Clara spent her early years learning her parents’ business - fraud. She’s quite good at it too, along with lying and stealing. Though never an academic, she has an extreme amount of emotional intelligence, which she frequently uses to her advantage. However, due to her upbringing, she has difficulties trusting anyone other than her sister, Bea.
In her earlier years, she would often assist her parents in the management of their illegal poker games, bringing drinks to clients and slipping cards under the table. No one ever suspected the smiling blonde child.
Though she’d become numb to her situation, she found solace in a few things. Cigarettes, reality tv, cocaine, to name a few. These are things she tends to hide, for the sake of her sister. Due to her various substance abuse issues and increasing fascination with her parents’ line of work, she graduated with a C-average and quickly decided college wasn’t for her, choosing rather to pick up a series of odd jobs while pulling her own schemes.
At age 20, her parents, Nadja and Ivan, were arrested on charges of money laundering, fraud, and a slew of others she didn’t care to hear. All she knew was that now she and her sister were on their own. This was among the reasons she decided to follow her sister to Reed, she didn’t have anyone or anything else.
Now settled in Virginia, Clara is back to her old ways. She runs a tiny candle store out of the front of her house, specializing in odd and overly specific scents. On the side, she fools the more naive citizens of Reed by playing psychic. For $20, she’ll tell you your future via palm reading or tarot, your choice.
III. PERSONALITY
Clara is a brilliant actress, but not on stage. While troubled and angry with the world, she keeps it covered with a facade of niceties.
Despite that, she loves talking to people. It’s one of her few talents.
Definitely not a sociopath, but she has little empathy for the people she doesn’t REALLY care about, which is why she’s mostly excited about the murders more than anything. She thinks it’s like living in a Netflix documentary.
IV. CONNECTIONS
Tbh I have none in mind right now, so I’m open for anything. Maybe someone who can see through her mask? Maybe someone she’s extorted hundreds of dollars from through her scams? Toxic ex? Up to y’all!!!
“Here we go…” Bea turned away from Clara as she started up again, holding up a her hand mocking her speech as she blabbed on. “This is ridiculous Clara, I hurt your feelings? Are we seriously doing this right now?” Fighting and causing a scene and being witness to a murder wasn’t on Bea’s checklist of things to do tonight. Her sisters words were starting to make their way through Bea’s thick skin, “sorry for hoping your ex wasn’t murdered by a serial killer and that I asked you to check on him.” Her volume growing with rage, “you know what is childish? Screaming at your younger sister over some stupid fucking guy, while a fucking MURDER investigation is going on!” Her index finger shooting over into the direction of the police lights as a gentle reality check.
Clara decided to stop talking, now on the verge of tears. She hated fighting with her sister, even though it seemed like she did it constantly. “It would just be better,” she sighed, “if you wished he were dead.” She said it in full seriousness, but realized how silly it sounded as soon as it left her mouth. “I forgot about the murder.” Looking back at the crowd, some people had been allowed to leave. Were they really going to interview everyone? “I can’t do this.” And with that, she puked again.
vinnie’s eyes dart down to the hand on his arm , though he actually finds it comforting . “ here for you ? did you . . . do something ? ” he questions , voice just slightly above a whisper . “ yeah , i’m fine . just thought maybe all this shit was over . ” sighing , he places his hand overtop hers , rubs his thumb against her knuckles . “ clara , you feel . . . clammy . are you okay ? did mama queen give you anything from under the table ? ”
“um...” she trails off, feeling cornered, “no, not really. well maybe they are here for me. beatrice says they’re not, but we did smoke weed.” she whispers the last word like she would a secret. her eyes move to his hand, now on top of hers. for a moment she is sober, panicked, but the alcohol in her system settles the emotion. in its place a feeling of warmth flushes through her. “i’ll be fine, in a bit.” clara sighs, leaning against him, hoping it would make the world stop spinning, “i didn’t take anything. i’m just stupid and dumb and a fool.”
Bea wasn’t surprised at her sister’s response, but she was growing tired of it. She looked up at Clara, who she could tell was completely out of it. Bea grabbed her arm softly, “It’s not misogynistic, and you are going to embarrass yourself if you don’t stop, Clara.” She dropped the other’s arm as her tone changed, surprised by her boldness. “Why don’t I mind my fucking business?” She asked rhetorically, “because you make your business my business, Clara! Do you think I actually give a fuck half of the time? Do you think I like having you in my fucking face twenty four seven? Constantly asking me questions and breathing down my neck?” She laughed mockingly at her sister, “you think I give a fuck about your dating life? I didn’t want to have to put up with that whole meltdown had I not been the one to mention him. ”
Bea’s change in tone shocked her. Though she’d been the aggressor, part of her had expected to be brushed off. What bothered her most is that she had a point. Clara could be controlling, possessive, overbearing, things she had sometimes wished their parents would’ve been. “You know what,” she began to speak, but was forced to stop by the vomit coming up her throat. Managing to choke it down, she started again, “you are being really mean and hurting my feelings.” It was the truth, she wasn’t saying it merely to guilt trip Beatrice, but it didn’t help that she continued with “why don’t you just stop fucking mentioning him? You know what,” She straightened herself, her face made up with a scowl, “I bet you’ve got some childish little crush on him, you fucking weirdo.” Ouch.
Bea’s eyes continued searching the crowd, seeing who was here and taking note of who was not. Bea was completely tuning her sister out, as all she was capable to do at the moment was panic. She was snapped back into moment as Clara retched on her shoes, un-phased, Bea sighed, “you’re lucky these are your boots.” Bea wasn’t absolutely certain someone had been killed, but recent events strengthened her theory. “Yes, Clara, someone has been murdered,” Bea’s temper growing impatient with her sister’s theatrics, “can you please calm down.” Pulling her cell out of her pocket, Bea started filtering through her texts, “have you heard from anyone?” She chewed at her lips, shifting her weight from side to side anxiously, “You should text him, Clar.”
Clara stayed hunched over, rubbing at her temples. Suddenly she was filled with rage at the idea that not only had Beatrice stolen her shoes, she had also allowed them to be puked on (by Clara.) “You bitch.” She groaned, barely above a whisper. Her head was pounding. Finding it in herself to stand up straight, she wiped the spit away from her mouth with the back of her hand. The crowd had been worked into more of a frenzy, and she was seeing now that there truly were too many detectives for a couple grams of weed. “You telling me to calm down is really misogynistic if you think about it.” She slurred, a slight smile on her face that dropped away at her sister’s insistence that she text her ex. “Why don’t you mind your fucking business?” Hissing, she bent over again to spit out the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth. “I swear you like him more than me.” She said, face towards the grass.
finally spotting clara in the crowded disorder , vinnie moves faster than he thinks he ever has before , closing the distance between them quickly . “ know what the fuck is going on ? ” he questions , his eyes glued to her as if the madness around them is nothing compared to her safety . . . which , really , wouldn’t be a stretch . “ just wanted to make sure it wasn’t you . ” vincent bowen has never been good with emotions , especially those of his own , but right now ? right now , he was thanking the universe and every higher power that he was seeing clara with his own two eyes , alive and well beside the fire .
clara was drunker than she would’ve liked to be in a moment like such. she didn’t think anyone would want to be as crossed as she was when the cops pull up. blinking slowly, she watched as vinnie approached her at a shocking pace. something must be really bad, she thought to herself, if he was that desperate to talk to her. “um...” she began, placing a hand on his arm to stabilize herself, “well I thought they were here for me, honestly.” the world was spinning and the lights of the cars were nearly blinding. “but i guess someone died?” the tone of her voice was casually incredulous - her focus was more on not puking and surviving what was to come next, the murder was at the back of her mind. “are you okay? you seem frazzled.”
She had figured it was a matter of time before a scene had started, Bea squinted her eyes at the flickering red and blue lights. Thankfully, Bea wasn’t the intoxicated one tonight, seeing as Clara had already started to have her meltdown. Officers barricaded the exits, and people were starting to panic, “Listen to me you fucking moron,” Bea spoke firmly, “this is not about us,” she had a feeling what is was about, “I don’t think they would need this many squad cars for the two of us.” Her eyes darting around the area, trying to make sense of the chaos. “Plus if we left that looks super fucking weird.”
“Holy fuck,” she scoffed, “someone was fuckin’ murdered, Clara.”
“Like, we are literally going to get arre-” Clara’s rant was cut off by her sister. Honestly, she wasn’t fully convinced as she’d let her mind run wild in every direction. She was imaging her sentencing, she dressed in an orange jumpsuit with shackles around her wrists and ankles. The orange would be unflattering, and it made Clara nauseous. She felt the need to vomit, but instead hiccuped loudly and swallowed. “Someone was murdered?!” She practically yelled. That was enough to get her, and she was bent in half puking on her sister’s shoes. “Man,” she said in between heaves, “I hate it here.”
Clara was proper drunk when the authorities arrived, the lights of their vehicles illuminating the scene in an unpleasant way. Fully intoxicated, she had forgotten entirely that there was a murder investigation at hand, that it could be possible that another body was found. Instead, in her state, she was fully convinced that they had smelled the weed she and her sister had smoked and were there to arrest them. There was no dead girl, just two delinquent sisters.
“Dude,” she slurred, her arm around her slightly shorter sister, “we gotta go.” There was a very real look of fear in her eyes, though it was mostly for her sister than herself. Maybe she could lie to the police and take the blame for it? “Oh my god, we’re gonna go to jail.” She moaned, a little too loud. “Be honest, do I seem crossed? Are they gonna test me? I cannot do one of those walking things right now, and I can’t even say the alphabet backwards sober. Oh my god.” There were tears in her eyes.
charlene had hoped that the bonfire would serve as a pleasant distraction from the current chain of events. finding distractions seemed to be her biggest priorities lately. however, the night had not been going exactly as planned. she felt like she was suffocating and to be completely honest, she couldn’t figure out if it was because of the abundant smoke in the air or the idea of people walking up to her and asking how she was coping with the murders. seeing how she had opted to spending the evening drinking and burning anything she could find might be a indicator. after burning her the last receipt at the bottom of her purse she finally decided to look up from the flame. “oh hey clara.” she greeted, relieved to see a friendly face. “how’s it going?”
Clara was a little shocked to see her there, but she didn’t have much of a reason. Of course she’d be there. Everyone was. In Clara’s mind, though, only the bottom feeders of the town came out to this sort of thing, her own presence wouldn’t be explained under the idea. “Bonsoir,” she said, jokingly, maybe a little too obviously drunk. “Oh, it’s going fine. Y’know. I’m spending my night at a town event drinking cheap beer. It’s fine.” Admittedly, she was pleased to be talking to someone she liked, someone she didn’t have to make uncomfortable small talk with. “How about you? Any good reason you’re at this thing?” She gestured widely with her left hand.
“Oh, I understand. I don’t mind that they’re messy, the taste makes up for it,” she giggles. Serenity was already getting quite the sweet tooth despite her young age, becoming just like her mother. No shocker there. “You know, if you’re into other desserts and baked goods, you should check out my grandma’s bakery! It’s in downtown and we’re starting to expand our menu and make it more vegan and allergy friendly.”
Clara shrugged, somewhat in agreement. In truth, she’d never cared for s’mores or anything of the sort. It was something one might become accustomed to as a child, but her parents never took her camping and she was never in a situation in which she’d have a s’more. “Vegan friendly?” Now that was intriguing. The last time she’d seen a menu that was vegan friendly had been way up north. “Tell me more.”
As the pair reached the table, Bea grabbed a cup of beer. “The police here are about as useless as the rest of them,” looking around the crowd, “I hope you know we’re leaving when I graduate, yes?” It was more of a statement than a question for Bea, her departure would be immediate. “Three? I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and say two, just for fun.” Drinking her beer, she rolled her eyes at the hypothetical. “Clara, my meanness is what will be my preservation. You’d probably gonna give them a phony palm reading and they’d seek revenge.”
Following suit, Clara grabbed another cup of beer, downing it quickly. She was too bored, and though she’d hate to admit it, a little uncomfortable. Being in large crowds was never her ideal. “Yes,” she nodded solemnly, “we’ll leave...” There were a few things in Reed she actually liked. For one, they had been living a relatively normal life before the killings started. That was a first for them. But Clara would follow her sister anywhere, that was a fact. “No one can prove I’m a sham, except maybe you and a few others.” She was referring, mostly, to one of the victims, the one she’d told would live a long, prosperous life. Sometimes, she tried to feel bad about it. “But maybe you’re right. I’m the nicer of us, maybe someone would try to take advantage of that. I’m also prettier. Pretty girls usually get killed first.” Whenever Clara got drunk, she made it her personal mission to push her sister’s buttons. It usually got her hit, not that she really cared.
shrugging his shoulders , vinnie isn’t completely upset that mama queen nudged him toward clara tonight . “ what’s better than sharing a cold beer by a fire with your ex ? can’t think of much myself . ” there’s a sudden grin on his lips , one that was primarily reserved for the other , and he wonders if perhaps she recognizes it on his face . “ keystone . that’s what’s in the kegs , according to mama queen , at least . ” brows furrow and his grin fades quickly at her accusation , though it’s not wholly out of left field . “ probably wouldn’t have asked if it didn’t matter . but , uh , no . can’t say that i’m in charge of the parkway killings . sorry to disappoint . ”
“oh, i can think of a few things...” she trailed off, giving him a small smile. maybe this wasn’t so bad, maybe she could be civil with him, especially with that stupid grin of his. taking a sip of her beer, she wondered if that were more the alcohol talking than anything else. clara didn’t like the taste of keystone, so she was right in bringing her own beer, but the drunker she got the less that opinion became an issue. “hm, i don’t know if i believe you,” she joked, knocking shoulders with him, “sounds like what a murderer might say.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be that fortune teller everyone raves about?” Rose said, half-lying. Raving, for sure, would have been an overstatement; someone had only let slip that they went to a fortune teller for fun one afternoon. Not that Rose couldn’t help but do a bit of flattery every now and then. At the very least, it’d help break the ice. “Sorry if I have you mistaken. I’m just in the mood for a bit of chit chat.”
A smile spread across Clara’s face, clearly pleased with the idea that people might be raving about her. Part of the joy was in knowing that perhaps people really did buy her act. “I am the very psychic. Good to know people talk about me from time to time.” She chuckled, taking a small sip of her drink, “but I don’t know you,” she paused to look her over, “I’m assuming you’re not the type to visit psychics too often, are you?”
“Wait, are marshmallows made from….animal products?” Clementine gasps. If they did, she truly had one idea. She loved them, epically in her desserts. Her grandma’s bakery had lots of yummy things that were baked with the sticky treat. “I don’t think I could ever imagine a smore with the delicious, toasted marshmallow though. That’s what makes them so good!”
“Yep, gelatin. Makes ‘em congeal and all that. They make halal marshmallows but they’re a bit more expensive, and I don’t know if you can really find them in a town like this.” Clara bit at her fingernail, watching the woman from the corner of her eyes. “I dunno, I think the chocolate is what pulls it together. See, my beef with marshmallows is less the gelatin and more when they melt, they get super sticky and then you can’t touch anything. It gets gross.”
“If I wanted you dead, you would’ve been by now.” Smirking, Bea started making her way back to the crowd, she was parched, she also wanted to see how drunk her sister would get. “Pfft, please. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of solving it for them. I want to see if they can figure it out before more people get offed.” Bea talked loosely about the murders, she thought they were more of a nuisance than anything. She clicked her tongue,“I’m just hoping I can finish my degree on time.”
Following shortly behind her sister, Clara’s thoughts zeroed in on getting another drink. Why not have fun?, she thought to herself. “It’s going to take them ages to solve it. If I’ve learned anything from all of those true crime shows I’ve been watching, it’s that the police do not know how to handle murder cases. I’d guess three more people will die before they even get a suspect.” It was too exciting for her not to talk on and on about. She had her own theories on who might be the murderer, but at the same time everyone just seemed so boring. “Okay, realer question then, between the two of us, who do you think is more likely to get murdered? I think it’s you.” She shrugged, “you’re too mean.”
“What I do on my free time is my business, thank you very much.” Bea honestly spent most time by herself, by choice of course. She would leave their house with little notice, spending hours at the library or the Lone, usually studying. She enjoyed her own company just fine. “So what you’re saying is I’m ugly enough to be the serial killer? And they weren’t all high schoolers, there was an old dude too.” Bea furrowed her brow while looking over Clara’s shoulder, trying to eavesdrop in on some conversations, analyzing peoples social reactions and body language. “I mean yeah, or it’s probably like, the mayor or some shit, people in power have weird control issues.”
“Sure, sure,” she nodded, suddenly wishing she had another beer. It occurred to her that if she kept drinking, she’d probably be the one making a fool out of herself. Chuckling, she replied, “yeah, that dog face of yours is sure to be a killer. Taking out your envy of your older sister on randos because you can’t bring yourself to kill her.” The crowd beyond the trees was growing larger as the sun disappeared and she could make out the hum of conversations now. She wondered if while they were having this very discussion, the real killer was lurking out among them. “It’s definitely a man. I’ve watched too many Netflix documentaries to believe it’s a woman.” Pausing, she continued, “you know, I bet we could solve this faster than the shit for brains detectives.” Okay, maybe she was too high.
