𝓊𝓃𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹;

eddie moore 42. journalist. pleasance native.

[eddiemoores]

dagnylarsson​:

He makes a beeline for his desk and starts collecting his things, stuffing them into his bag unceremoniously. They’re just papers—case files that he is not, under any circumstances, allowed to take home, but no one in this department really cares or they’d have stopped him a long time ago—his phone charger and his earphones, tangled as they usually are, a mystery in and of itself.

He barely looks up when the door opens. He expects nothing less from Eddie. A sharp sigh pierces the air through his nose as he grabs his mouse and starts to close all the programs on his computer, shutting it off.

“You can look over my shoulder on the way out.” Then he makes a show of scanning her very petite figure. A large difference between his own towering physique. “Unlike you, I don’t plan to work for the rest of the night.”

Finally, the screen turns black and he presses the power button on his monitor, faint static pulling at the hairs on his arm. He moves around his desk, bag slung over his shoulder, but stops just in front of it, and just in front of Eddie who appears as resilient as ever. She’s tiny and terrible, all at once— and if he had to be honest, he’d have long since pushed her into the direction of any other unsuspecting cop in the building if he weren’t even the least bit interested in what she does.

Because the truth is that he is. Whenever he sees her come by, her presence is met with a scoff, a roll of his eyes. Mockery. The truth is that she’d be way better at his job than he is.

His bottom meets the edge of his desk as he sits back, arms folded across his chest as his bag swings idly at his side. He studies her carefully. Head tilted slightly upwards to impose a character of authority. He has what she needs. She’ll answer his questions. “What is it, then?” He motions towards her bag, whatever it might contain. “What have you got?”

.

She almost feels amused at his obvious distaste in her choice of action. Doing what she does — chasing stories and all — has developed this sense of humor in her that only comes about when she’s riling a person. She doesn’t want to admit this though, because it can only mean that her mind has regressed to a teenager seeking attention.

“A joker now, are we?” she replies to his well-placed jab at her vertically challenged height, but grows contemplative at his next statement. Unlike most people in this town, it would seem that she doesn’t have a life. She looks at Dagny and sees what could’ve been: married, a kid, divorced. Maybe not in that particular order — she doesn’t remember the story too well — and perhaps not the divorced part. But sometimes she wonders how things could’ve been different if she had someone else in her life.

Perhaps her stubbornness in this situation stems from her silent wish to have someone sensible to talk to, even if that someone is slightly inebriated, judging by the faint scent of beer. She isn’t actually expecting anything from him, so she finds herself surprised and doubtful when Dagny does not push her away any further. 

Although she acknowledges how detrimental it is for one to get their hopes up so quickly, it’s also not an easy habit for her to get rid of. If there’s one thing Eddie’s good at, then it’s not being able to let go of things without giving it a fight. Only she has been in this fight for so long she has forgotten how to live normally. And so it only takes a few seconds for her to get over her distrust of his sudden interest. Even if he may be humoring her, at least she has his attention. She detests how starved she is, but at the same time she simply couldn’t help it.

She tries to hide her excitement, but it is clear in the way she hurriedly brings out her camera, still outfitted with an F2.8 zoom lens. If anyone didn’t know any better, they’d think she was a paparazzi. “Look, I took a picture of something,” she starts, showing him the LCD screen. Although it was grainy and dark, a figure could be seen outlined sitting on a branch of a sequoia tree. “This was taken two nights ago at Southwood Forest. Were there any reports of strange sightings there lately?”

[eddiemoores]

 margaretflorist​:

margaret likes the puzzle of flowers. at first, it’d just been a job, something to keep the lights on after her sibling fled, but over the years she started picking up on the meanings of them all. a proper flower arrangement, done right, told a story. maggie likes making stories. she also likes making stories that suited the people she told them for. she keeps the arrangement small. she figures, eddie’s a no-fuss kind of woman, she wouldn’t want a blooming bouquet folks can spot for miles resting on her mother’s grave. five flowers in all. she moves to the counter to begin wrapping them, giving eddie a soft smile.

“yeah, i know,” she agrees, reaching for a light blue ribbon. maggie finds eddie’s presence calming. most folks around town probably feel the opposite, but maggie likes eddie’s tenacious attitude, her fierce curiosity, the way she moves through town without apologizing for it. it gives margaret hope that same kind of boldness lives somewhere in her. she shakes her head slightly in response to eddie’s chattering. “no, kaye’d have a fit if she found out i left her blooms unguarded,” she jests, tying a bow around the stems. “but you did come at the right time. shop closes in about ten minutes.” she looks at eddie thoughtfully, decides to take a risk. “were you hoping to visit your mom alone? or would you like some company?”

.

eddie’s life feels like one giant ball of regret. she hasn’t been aware for a long time of just how much of the guilt has piled up, until one day she wakes up and realizes the sheer wrongness in her existence. irreversible mistakes. her life is full of should’ves and could’ves, but the only thing she can do now is to fight instead of drowning. instead of dwelling on the what she should have or could have done. 

but here’s another thing that eddie will regret for certain, and that is encouraging margaret and her madcap group. is everything worth the danger they’re putting them in? it has to be. right now though, all eddie could think about is how useful they are to her. besides, she’s not their keeper. she shouldn’t feel responsible for whatever questionable decisions they make in the future. right?

it takes a while for eddie to process the invitation. she knows she should keep her distance from margaret, to make their relationship purely professional. she gives them candies and in turn, they give her what she wants. no strings attached. but she takes a good look at the younger woman, and finds it difficult to disappoint her. didn’t maggie lose her mother too? and the same way eddie lost hers— to a sickness. “champ, you don’t have to look out for me,” she gives her a look at that. “but you can come with me only if i get to meet your mom.” 

eddie pays for the flowers, but doesn’t thank margaret for the thoughtful arrangement. the lack of distaste in eddie’s face shows enough of her unspoken appreciation. “i would offer to help, but i’d rather not be strangled by kaye in the morning. i’ll be outside by the car.” she leaves the shop before the smell of the blooms became too overpowering.

[eddiemoores]

rexclarke​:

♚

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 night shopping is Rex’s specialty — somehow, half-asleep and very high, he’d always come back with exactly what he needed, so who is he to question it? Standing at the end of the aisle by the back of the store, he stares, bleary-eyed at the selection of Entenmann’s pastries in front of him, mentally going between the powdered donuts of the creme-filled chocolate cupcakes when he hears something shift behind him.

“So we’re allowed to steal from other people’s baskets now?” He squints. It’s not his basket; he’s not sure whose basket it is, and he certainly hadn’t been tasked to guard it, but true to his core, he has to point it out in the most annoying way possible. 

‘ah, and there it is folks, the designated asshole of the night,’ she remarks drily in her head. she would’ve grumbled if she hadn’t recognized the voice, although her eyes did roll in exasperation before turning to face the man. her feelings towards rex clarke are conflicted, to say the least. for one, she fuzzily recalls her ex-fiancé’s bitterness regarding rex which has somehow influenced — foolishly, she might add — her disdain towards him. secondly, she actually empathizes with him. she’s not exactly sure why, but it might have something to do with the both of them returning to pleasance even after already having settled someplace else. only one thing’s for sure though— she is heavily convinced that he is part of the puzzle she wants to complete.

a smile plasters on eddie’s face. “oh god, no!” she denies, tone sweet although even to her own ears it comes off a tad too much. “i was only checking the expiration date. we need to look out for each other around here, right?” crap, she grimaces. usually, she’d be better at putting on personas, something she has learned to perfect in the journalism trade. so she can only blame her blunder on the lateness of the hour, but it’s not as if rex would’ve seen right through her bullshit. they’ve known each other long enough for her pleasantries to work, and she has bugged him plenty of times before. although, right now she thinks he may actually be too shit-faced to notice her plan which has sparked the moment she has noticed his current state. 

she continues her charade, beer craving all but forgotten. “need your late night sweet fix? think i can help you with that. i hear you have quite the state-of-the-art kitchen. real shame it’s not being put to good use, don’t you think?”

[bob-belcher]

[eddiemoores]

@richard-kim

LOCATION: Northwood High School DATE & TIME: Wednesday, early afternoon

eddie supposes she should be disinclined about having to go back to northwood high school, considering her history with the school and a person who works in said school.

in reality, she isn’t the least bit unwilling and is even pumped to be mingling with young and impressionable minds. and this visit is not even out of her own volition — like her previous ones, especially since schools are cesspools of spin-chilling stories, and you can hardly blame her for having been intrigued — but a reluctant order from her superior. reluctant, as if she can’t be trusted and she is their dead last choice (which she absolutely is). she concedes to the fact that okay, maybe she is not to be trusted on her own, but around teenagers? hardly. well, at least that’s what she thinks.

she’s required to submit her plans for the upcoming high school career fair. say what others will about her work ethic, but eddie isn’t the slacking type — when she’s no less than personally invested, that is. how helpful eddie thinks the career fair actually is for adolescents becomes moot point when she’s ecstatic to be in the position to even mildly shape the minds of the future generation. ‘ha, take that my surly boss. this isn’t the punishment you honestly thought it’d be,’ she gloats inwardly to her superior. 

first things first though — she needs to check something. within the short time she’s been in the area, an alumnus has ambushed her and immediately filled her in on the newest details of the weird incidents happening around the school. in the male faculty washroom, to be precise. slipping into the faculty lounge and then the washroom without much fuss, she enters the stall in question after a cursory check of the vicinity. she fishes out a camera from her messenger bag, taking snapshots of the decidedly bare stall. still, better to be safe than sorry.

[eddiemoores]

@jocelynforbes

LOCATION: Antique Store DATE & TIME: Wednesday, around 7pm

when eddie feels like she’s running in circles, she likes to find another thing or situation that will baffle her all the more. not only does it not solve her initial quandary, it adds to it. eddie is currently experiencing said quandary. so the minute she remembers that this is one of those rare days that jocelyn forbes might be at the store — because eddie did not totally learn about jocelyn’s schedule without her knowledge — the outcome becomes obvious.

“jocelyn, did the store receive anything spooky? like a gaudy amulet,” she asks as soon as she enters the shop, despite knowing that all antique stores are required to have uncanny items. it’s not an antique store if it doesn’t have cursed possessions, same as it’s not a small town if there are no urban legends. “if not, let me just poke around here,” she calls out, not waiting for affirmation as she plays around with a jack-in-the-box toy. ‘huh, this looks too brand new to be considered an antique,’ she muses.

[eddiemoores]

@billiealby

LOCATION: Pleasance Public Library DATE & TIME: Sunday morning

it’s not as if eddie hasn’t done this before. plenty of times has she sneaked into the restricted section of the library, in fact, so much so that something had to be done about it. she has been banned from the whole public library for an indefinite time ever since, but that does not faze her. ‘oh, boo-hoo, as if that would stop me.’ she finds the attempt to be real cute. why even set restrictions on a public library, she ponders. right now though, she’s in quite a dilemma.

getting past the librarian and archivists is easy enough. what’s troubling her is the newly installed surveillance camera situated at a pretty inconspicuous spot among the ceiling-to-floor shelves. the camera should cover the entrance to the restricted wing, she surmises. again, it amuses eddie how they really needed someone like her to get their wits about. kudos to them for making her sweat the tiniest bit though. she’s not entirely sure if the damn thing works, as some surveillance cameras are discreet, but it still warrants a closer look and a few tinkering.

she steals a ladder when the coast is clear and sets it right beside the camera where it won’t catch her. although pretty well-hidden from the rest of the library, eddie still needs to make fast work of it. the world falls away as she brings out her mini toolbox, placing it on the shelf beside her,  and begins fiddling with the device.

[eddiemoores]

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TASK 001: ROOTS

Introducing THE MOORES —

Family Background

The Moores are fairly new to town, having arrived in Pleasance back in the 1960s. They brought with them the good faith of the World Hope Church, which the Moores founded in Columbus, Ohio. Eddie’s family separated from the main branch to spread the Word, and they have long since settled in Residential Area 1. Next to their picket fenced house is a church they also constructed where meetings and services are held up to this day by Eddie’s uncle. The previous family patriarch, Adrian Moore (Dennis Quaid fc, 68, declared legally dead) and Eddie’s father was listed in the Top 25 Most Influential Pastors list.

Generally well-received around Pleasance, most residents follow their church. The townspeople are aware of what happened to Eddie’s parents and would feel appropriately regretful, but wouldn’t be privy to what went on behind the scenes. They would have zero knowledge of how controlling Adrian is with his family, and of how Eddie would internally suffer with trying to come into terms with what she wants in contrast to her father’s, whom she only wants to please. Lara Moore (Meg Ryan fc, 60, deceased) got diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease resulting into dementia when Eddie was 18 years old, after Adrian disappeared from the world without a trace. Although the disease started manifesting in Lara when Eddie was 16, Adrian hid the truth from the world, prioritizing his reputation over his wife’s health. In the World Hope Church, it is believed that any abnormalities to the brain are the result of the devil’s work, and while they also believed that they’re not beyond saving, he simply cannot let his standing be tainted by even a speck of dirt.

Eddie’s Childhood

Having Adrian and Lara for parents was fairly alright. There wasn’t a day that went by where Eddie felt starved. Her clothes were always clean and well-pressed. Her mother was always on top of the household keeping, but Eddie always felt like Lara was more of a ghost than a real person. Lara was a meek, beautiful woman who worships Eddie’s father., but Eddie’s no different, with her practically kissing the ground Adrian walks on. It’s hard not to like Adrian — he was charming and smart. A magnetic personality, basically. Eddie was happy to gain his approval, no matter how difficult it was for her to keep up with his demands. One of which is to study the violin, and the guitar, and the piano. (She just isn’t a music person, unfortunately.) Eddie used to think that if Lara didn’t get sick as a result of encountering the Strange Man, they’d still be intact. But she realized when she was much older that that would mean they would have kept on living a lie. Beautiful, but fake. There is only bliss in ignorance, and Eddie would be damned to live like that again.

Present sentiments

It is mentioned in Eddie’s intro and questionnaire that what happened to her parents (Lara with the Strange Man and Adrian with Gideon’s friend, although these are all just speculation on her part) is the main drive behind her actions. She is obsessed with finding out the truth behind Pleasance. Guild is also there, for not being a better child to Lara and for favoring Adrian as a parent (when he’s actually utter crap) because try as she might to erase it, the fact still remains that she could’ve done something to help her mother. As soon as she was able to, the first thing she does is to send Lara to a nursing home and leave her alone for many years, not even visiting once until her funeral ten years ago. As a teen, it was somewhat excusable, but as an adult, she could’ve tried. Her cowardice prevailed, and as a result, her mother died alone. She won’t ever forgive herself for that. She perhaps wouldn’t even have organized Lara’s funeral if her journalism career in New York had taken off. It scared her, how callous she had become. As recompense for her guilt, she vows to never let the same thing happen again to another kid in Pleasance, not when she’s still alive and able to do something.

With regards to Eddie’s religious beliefs, although she doesn’t anymore follow her family’s church (not since adolescence), she’s a non-practicing Christian.

Relationships

What happened in the past still haunts her today, with the way she’s still clinging on to the strange stories in Pleasance like a child gripping their favorite blanket. It’s no surprise that this carries over to how she handles the people around her. It has butchered her relationships, most notably with her ex-fiancé, Richard Kim. Their failed engagement is largely Eddie’s fault. She did try to live a relatively normal life in her early thirties, but she couldn’t help the restlessness that overcame her. It all boils down to her thinking that she doesn’t deserve even a moment of respite until she does everything that she can in figuring out what is up with Pleasance. A decade later and she’s still at it, never feeling that she has done enough. As a result, it is hard for her to foster deep friendships. Professional relationships, yes. Beneficial ones, great. Drinking, smoking, and gossip buddies, go. But never really profound & meaningful relationships. 

@phqextras

[eddiemoores]

undertakerxsonny​:

CLOSED FOR: @eddiemoores LOCATION: Vinny’s  TIME: Late morning

“They really publish anythin’ these days, huh? Journalism just ain’t what it used to be, kid. Here’s lookin’ at ya.” Sitting at a corner table, Sonny hummed loudly and peeked over his copy of The Pleasant Times, mirth stretching across his eyes. He was yammering on in some parody of a Mid-Atlantic accent, evidently doing a play on the old-timey newsman or spy and trying his very best to get Eddie’s attention from across the room. Still, taking a swig from his bottle of iced tea, not exactly a hardened whiskey sour, he pretended to go back to reading, a portrait of self-contained innocence. 

“Shut up, Vinny. Nobody was talkin’ to you.” He added abruptly, glancing up at the counter, before resuming whatever this performance was. The place was quiet, at least, caught in the lull before the proper lunch rush. So no one but the owner could judge him for being a spectacle. 

Still, letting out a low breath, Sonny folded the paper neatly in front of him before turning to the shoulder-bag sitting open in the booth beside him. Reaching in, he made a show of digging through its contents, where he retrieved an unmarked video tape. He placed it gingerly on the edge of the table, an enticing invitation for any curious investigators looking to sit down. But with that, he was back to skimming the news, landing on the comics, where Marmaduke had another smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

.

truth be told, eddie isn’t much of a fan of vinny’s. or more like vinny. the old man likes to passively rub it in her face that ‘not everyone’s good enough for the Big Apple’ when he found out about her failed new york dreams. at least his food is good, lest she tips her co-workers about the rumored rats in his kitchen. so despite her annoyance at sonny’s good-humored derision — yes, she has noticed him the minute he entered the establishment. no need for subtle jabs, really — she can’t help the snigger that bubbles up at his snappy remarks towards vincent russo. even if she’s aware it’s all part of an act, judging by his overly dramatized accent. 

she takes a sip of her second cup of coffee, the half-bitten sandwich on her plate all but forgotten as she furiously types on a laptop her morning assignment. her late morning assignment. she knows she’ll get an earful again later, but does she care? hardly. if her editor still thinks her pieces are good enough to be published, then she’s in no cause to hurry. not to say that she won’t be timely when it’s a matter of great import to the townspeople, she simply can’t be bothered when it comes to writing about jesse hancock’s latest fuck-up endeavors to green pleasance’s parkway!

still, she’s got a job to do and bills to pay so her laptop has her sole attention for the past thirty minutes. until sonny fishes out a video tape, that is. anything even remotely interesting draws her interest in an instant. damn it, i’m too predictable, eddie muses dryly. she switches tables — with her laptop, bag, coffee, and sandwich — all within under seconds. it’s the stuff of comics how she does everything in a flash, sliding into the booth without so much as a hair of out place. “hey, sonny, didn’t see you there, ” she greets, as if nothing unnatural has occurred. she tries not to eye the tape too heatedly, out of the small shred of dignity she has left. “what have you been up to these days?” which also translates as ‘what have you got for me?’ although the question may be a practiced pleasantry, she’s actually curious to know how sonny has been doing. 

[eddiemoores]

hannahyelley​:

@eddiemoores​

LOCATION: Dutch’s

DATE AND TIME: Saturday, Ten past ten

      “I saw Mayor Hancock buying sole inserts today - I knew that little shit was adding to his height.” It’s not that Hannah hates the weaselly sallow man in office; she likes to fashion herself a woman too invested in harmony to dabble in such an ugly emotion. It’s just that, she’d like to see him fall into a giant vat of something (taffy? wax?) and roll out of town, in that greasy car he loves so much. Eddie’s nursing a drink across the booth from her, ever the picture of professional perfection - the blonde hair and demure eyes, succeeding as effective mask for the mischief that lurked beneath. “On my life, Eddie! I bet he’s like, five four without them. No wonder he’s so hot to brush off the Tall Man; half of Pleasance would fit the bill, compared to him.” 

    Dutch’s banned indoor smoking back in the nineties, when the habit fell out of public favour, but Hannah felt free to light up anyway; her gap-teeth, perpetually balancing a cigarette. Every thought that passed her mind wasn’t tied to the unnatural and petrifying ambiance of Pleasance; but with Eddie, she got to walk her favourite line - unraveling conspiracies and getting shit faced. “So, what are we working on this week? I’ll concede my Hancock story won’t go far, and that you’ve probably got something way better. Or will - October’s here, we’re due for some fucking mischief.” 

cheek resting in one hand, she uses the other to write down in her worn out notepad whatever hannah’s chitter-chatter of the day is. ‘hancocky... sole inserts... actually 5′4 ″...’ she mindlessly lists. eddie has made it a habit to take note of everything the younger woman has to say — anything of slight substance, that is — because even though half of what hannah’s sharing is probably pure nonsense, eddie still considers her to be a valuable set of eyes & ears. hannah is perhaps the only one in town who’s kookier than eddie, and that is actually a compliment by eddie’s standards. 

she chuckles wryly at the other woman’s diss. “actually, i can sympathize with the cock. everyone could be the Tall Man for all i know. must be why i’m having such a fucking easy time to catch his trail!” she guffaws at a joke at her own expense, clearly buzzed. at hannah’s question though, she comically grows somber in mood. “not really sorry to disappoint, but i’ve got nothing! nothing nothing nothing. come on pleasance, do me one better!” she shouts to the roof, and then gulps a mouthful of her drink. this effectively shatters her prissy image. it’s more of a force of habit that she dresses professionally than caring about appearances. she slumps back down in her seat.

“october betta have something, or it’s officially stripped of its spooky month status,” she grumbles, grabbing hold of her pint and downing its golden brown liquid. the glass lands on the table with a thud. “bum a cigarette?” she asks hannah succinctly, eyeing the stick balanced between the woman’s pretty red lips. they’ll get kicked out for smoking, in the off chance the employees even find the source. with the place as crowded as it is, the chances are slim. 

[eddiemoores]

dagnylarsson​:

A loud, exaggeratedly tired sigh follows the air he’d drawn into his lungs as he pushes through the door, not bothering to hold it open for the woman behind him and purposefully hastens the pace of his feet, legs stretching considerably longer than hers to his favor.

“It’s a Friday night.” He answers his own question despite knowing that any reminders are rendered futile for a woman such as Eden who is determined, by the teeth of his own foreboding words, to inconvenience him. He cares very little for the weekend, but he can at least use it as an excuse not to do her any more favors than he has to. He’d never had to owe her anything, anyway.

When it’s clear that he won’t be shaking her off his tail anytime soon, he stops just in front of his office, a tiny, stuffy room that smells too much like damp paper, walls painted a no-nonsense beige some twenty, thirty years ago, with a single square window on the door providing a dismal peek inside; a view that’s more often than not concealed with old, dusty blinds.

And yet, Dagny’s shoulders are squared imperiously like his place of work is a place of pride, like a venerated temple that Eden’s presence defaces with her sacrilege. The irony does not escape him. “Listen,” he mutters rigidly, all but pulling the woman close but decidedly keeps his hands to himself lest he call unwanted attention. At a police station of all places. “I went out on a limb for you last time, getting you those files. I could lose my job because of this… this project of yours which, by the way, is a load of horseshit.” It’s the beer, he’ll admit, that had loosened his tongue. Still, he is dimly aware of the tone he is taking with her who, for all intents and purposes, remains an acquaintance, if not an old childhood friend. One of the last few bridges he hadn’t yet burned, and from what he can tell, the same can be said about him for her.

“Just… go home, Eden.” He waves her off as he pushes into the room, pitch-black save for the glow of his desktop screensaver.

‘goddamn larsson’s legs,’ she grumbles in her head. ‘rude!’ comes soon after dagny’s excellent display of chivalry of not holding the door open for her and increasing his pace. 

huffing by the time they get to his office, she takes in his tirade with gritted teeth. she knows what he must be feeling. what everyone in pleasance must think whenever they see her. she’s an annoyance, stirring up trouble when things are better left untouched. ‘there goes that journalist again. why don’t they just fire her?’ of course she knows how tiresome she can get, but does she care? no. in fact, she feels justified to bother him, like she has every right to be there, because it seems like she’s the only one in this fucking town who wants to do something. 

she can’t quite help the wince that comes upon hearing her name— eden. her jaw tenses, almost tempted to lash out, but she breathes in deeply and lets it go. even if the name calls forth a memory she has buried deep within the recesses of her brain. of her pa, reciting ‘eden verity moore’ as if she were his property. she should be used to dagny saying it, and even feels silly for being affected by it in the first place. she doesn’t so much as flinch when he calls her work a load of horseshit, but a simple name gets a rise out of her? he hadn’t even meant anything by it. perhaps there are days where things really just hit harder than usual. 

no matter though, since she believes it’s a sign that dagny’s resistance is weakening. after all, she thinks he does not have the heart to completely throw her out. maybe just dislike, but never hate. despite how he may seem, she knows he’s a detective for a reason.

for a moment, she stares at the door in front of her. he hasn’t locked it, she notes. looking around surreptitiously, she makes sure no one is watching her as she enters the room against her better judgment — because despite her seeming pluckiness, there is still something about dagny that discomposes her. “i guess i’ll just lurk behind you until you give me something,” she announces, which also really translates as ‘i don’t want to go home.’ “just let me look over your shoulder while you use your computer or something.”

[eddiemoores]

margaretflorist​:

she likes the evening – watching the sunset from the windowfront, seeing the people bustle by on their way home from work, the way the light catches the flowers and makes them glow different shades of gold. she can take her time this way. she isn’t really ever rushing to go home.

when the bell above the door jingles, margaret pokes her head out of the workroom just in time to see eddie hovering, as usual, close to the door. she smiles, waves in greeting. “hey, eddie,” she calls out, wiping her hands on her apron. “sure thing.”

she moves out of the workroom, pressing her hands to her cheeks in thought as she examines the options. as she moves around the room, plucking lilies and carnations, she glances over at the other woman. “going out for a visit?” she asks, trying to keep her tone light, uninvasive. she knows the answer, of course – “the usual” means just that – but maggie likes chatting with eddie. she’s one of the few people in pleasance that doesn’t consider maggie a total weirdo.

.

eddie appreciates margaret’s care with approaching the topic. most people wouldn’t extend the same courtesy to her, but she can hardly blame them. she’s not exactly full of tact either. she graces margaret with a light smile, devoid of any pretenses, as she watches the younger woman carefully consider the arrangement of her order. eddie wouldn’t really care if she just throws in chrysanthemums and be done with it, but she recognizes margaret’s effort all the same.

“yup,” she admits, emphasizing the p. “one of those days, you know.” out of all the “members” of the ragtag mystery gang, margaret is perhaps the closest to her, mainly because of the similarities in their respective families. “i thought you weren’t here for a second. then i remembered that the store isn’t closed yet and there’s no way in hell you would leave it open,” she chatters as she waits for margaret to finish. glancing at her watch, she asks, “it’s almost time for close up, huh?”

[yennciri]

Took his wallet and his loot. I have it around here somewhere.

[bidoctor]

#me trying to ignore all my problems

[eddiemoores]

dagnylarsson​:

‎

Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to have punched out before accepting his coworker’s invitation to go out for drinks, but oh, well, too late now, not when he’s already two beers buzzed and the night shift probably has his desk now, going through the contents of his computer like he has a whole stash of porn. 

When he gets back to the station, it’s already a little past nine and he’d driven against his better judgment. He rushes out of his car, hastily left running.by the entrance, when he spots the blonde. “Jesus,” he mutters under his breath as he pulls the collar of his jacket up. “The hell you doin’ here, Moore? It’s Friday, haven’t you heard?” he says, though his feet do not slow down as he makes a beeline for the door. He knows she’ll follow him, anyway.

.

she looks up as soon as a car arrives at the scene, recognizing its owner right away. eddie can’t quite reconcile the person dagny has become with the fairly happy child she dimly remembers from Before. but then again, most wouldn’t remember her as the preacher’s daughter with immaculately braided hair. now she’s just a raving madwoman who maybe writes a few good articles here and there, but not good enough for the big apple. ‘and really unfortunate, what happened to the moores.’ she’s sick of it.

not surprisingly, she trails after him, unfazed by his crankiness. “grumpy wumpy dagny having a bad night?” she has the nerve to tease. oh, she knows what day it is, she simply does not want to dwell on it. or on the fact that she’d rather dig up for some clues than let loose. or mayhap she just needs some sensible company. god knows this town needs more of those.  “i just need access to a few old cases and i’ll be out of your hair. just a few!” she proposes, legs keeping up despite her shorter frame. even though she’s aware she’ll never gain complete access. still, it is worth a shot.

[eddiemoores]

@tcaswell

LOCATION: Reruns DATE & TIME: Thursday afternoon

a clue comes up in the form of a pair of boots, ones that supposedly belonged to john clifton. how eddie managed to come across that piece of information, no one will ever know. ‘finally something of substance,’  she thinks, feeling comforted by the illusion of progress. she has been stuck with covering a story about the sudden surge of stray cats in town and what to do about their droppings, after her superior threatened her with termination. she knows they won’t push through though, not if they’re threatening her with the same warning for the past five years since she landed the job. it never had much bite in the first place.

she arrives at the thrift shop with the kind of fervor everyone in town is used to seeing. for a fairly small woman, most would argue that she is a force to be reckoned with. bursting through aisles of mix matched clothes and items, it takes a while for her to find the object. allegedly, it is supposed to still be in mint condition. but really, a hundred year old pair of boots still intact? even that sounds like bananas to eddie.

she thinks she sees a familiar face around the store — tommy — but she doesn’t mind him. as soon as she spots her item though, she immediately grabs for it.

[eddiemoores]

@dagnylarsson​

LOCATION: outside the sheriff’s department DATE & TIME: friday, late night

it has actually been a good while since she last camped out at the station. by eddie’s standards that is. it would’ve been three days since her last sighting. when she’s got nothing better to do, she makes good use of the time and fishes for clues at the station. and that’s how she ends up standing at the side of the building on a friday night, waiting to ambush the next person who is unfortunate enough to work late thus have to deal with her. perhaps she could be a town legend. the detective hunting woman. there’s a nice ring to that, she muses, lost in her thoughts.