oh⸻ophelia.

[hartlings]

⸻ jessica chastain, 47, cis female, she/her ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of OPHELIA HARTLING. they are FORTY EIGHT, and have been missing for ONE AND A HALF MONTHS IN ARCADIA. when the sun rises, they work as a WAITRESS/SERVER. rumors in town say they can be THEATRICAL and DETERMINED. they chose to live in TOWN, and have an uncanny resemblance to WENDY BEAUCHAMP (WITCHES OF EAST END), REBECCA WELTON (TED LASSO), TANYA (MAMMA MIA). can they survive another night ?…⸻ faux furs, glistening skin shined upon by spotlights, early morning runs, expensive bottles of wine, perfectly wavy hair flowing in the wind, lounging on pianos.

file info.

BIRTH NAME: Ophelia Hartling NICKNAMES: Phelia, Ms. Hartling, Hart GENDER: Cis woman, she/her BIRTHDATE: May 13th, 1976 AGE: 48 BIRTHPLACE: Toronto, Canada RESIDENCY: Town House, Arcadia/Hell Town OCCUPATION: Waitress/server SEXUALITY: Lesbian RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

threads of life.

Ophelia got adopted into the Hartling family as a baby, her biological mother passed away soon after giving birth, her biological father was out of the picture. The Hartlings had a reputation to upkeep and unable to have a baby of their own, the screeching redheaded baby had come on their path like fate. Their descendant she would be, to inherit all the wealth they possessed. She got shaped and formed into the kid they wanted her to be. The kind that would work smarter, not harder. The kind that would hit back, harder. To earn and take her place in this world, but never be too full of herself. Etiquette was a must in her life, taught by her own nannies. Violin lessons by a private teacher after school. As soon as she was able to participate in horse riding, she was taught everything about them too.

The redhead got everything her heart desired, being an only child, Ophelia got spoiled rotten. The Hartlings owned a fair mansion with horse stables, a rose garden, anything that showed wealth to the outside world. Like the ultimate cliche, Ophelia made friends easily. She was the popular kid in school. Even in high elite school she was a sight to behold. Full of charisma, intelligence and befriending those she thought were worthy of her friendship. She was taught to use people, to gain something from them for her own good. She toyed with people, be it physically or mentally, Ophelia had a way of getting what she wanted and dip when she was satisfied.

Then there was Rylee. Dear, sweet, interesting Irish-tongued Rylee from overseas. She kept Ophelia on her toes, giving her something other people couldn't. She was a better friend than anybody else she'd encountered in her short life so far. The way her heart always beat that little bit faster around her, how her apple cheeks colored that bit more red and she never took her eyes off of her. She wanted to captivate every little thing about her. Yet ... Ophelia couldn't quite put those feelings into words. She was capable of anything in life, she'd been taught so, she could change the world, she could move fucking mountains, she could do anything - but tell Rylee how she felt. And so, her best friend was swept away by someone else. Someone she always strongly disliked.

When Rylee got married - Ophelia had a bitter taste to swallow. Even at the wedding she had to pretend, mask how she truly felt, and be too much of a coward to protest at seeing the two hand in hand at the altar. In her mind she'd protested a thousand times, in her mind she was brave enough to do something about it, in her mind she selfishly got the happy ending she so desperately sought.

Life went on, Ophelia swallowed the bitterness and most of the time pretended he didn't exist. Rylee continued to mean everything to her, even when they saw each other less. Because of school, because of work, because of other priorities that came with adulthood. Ophelia had no worries of making money as an adult. For a while, she'd worked for her father's company as his personal assistant, to get a taste of the business life. At night, she was a singer at five star hotel lounges, where jazz played, alcohol spilled and money flowed.

In her early thirties, life took a harsh turn on her happiness. After many consults, second opinions and meeting the best experts the wealth of the Harlings could provide, Ophelia was met with the harsh reality where she wasn't able to carry children of her own. A dream shattered, her mental health took a turn for the worse the day her best friend Rylee showed her a positive pregnancy test. What was supposed to be a big celebration turned into a fallout of the two friends and four years passed.

Ophelia left her hometown to try and seek happiness elsewhere. Anywhere but home. Scandinavia became her new home for a while, where she was met with quiet and breathtaking surroundings in the mountains. After a year, she sought comfort in Italy and its people's love for food, festivities and fucking around. Anything to get her mind off of the blonde she'd left behind. Two more years were spent cruise hopping and finding a new passion as an entertainer there. Singing alongside a piano in tight glitter dresses, toying around with the audience, satisfying herself at the end of every night.

Not a single person she played around with met her expectations. No one was like Rylee, no one lived up to the one woman who kept on fucking with her mind over and over again. So after four years of no contact, not a single postcard or text message, there she was, standing in front of Rylee's door. Bawling her eyes out like a fucking child, snotty and messy and a thousand sorry's leaving her lips for the rest of the day and night as she found solace in Rylee's arms once more.

It was hard to accept she couldn't have kids of her own, but seeing Rylee's lit a spark inside the redhead. She damn spoiled those girls, all four of them that graced their lives. She made damn sure they were given everything they possibly needed. Ophelia became their cool aunt, spent so much time around them that she practically lived there. Over the years, she took them to fun theme parks, on holidays, even onto cruise trips she was invited to, she gave them everything their little hearts desired.

After the four years of nonexistent contact, Ophelia had promised - sworn that she would never do such a cruel thing ever again. She'd been there for them, almost obsessively, every single day, she'd been there for her. So when Rylee didn't come home with most of her girls that one night ... when that one night turned into a day and that day turned into a week ... Ophelia broke down. The police were useless, even private investigators couldn't solve how they'd gone missing. Ophelia, as desperate she was, threw money at anyone and anything who even as much as promised her they'd find them. All lead to nothing. Not a trail, not a body, not a thing. And the most useless person of all? Her fucking absolute dogshit husband, she cursed at him, hit him in a moment of grief and emotionally tore herself apart because this absolute nightmare couldn't be happening.

Four and a half months later, Alec and Ophelia had decided on a surprise glamping trip for the remaining teenage daughter. No matter how unnaturally the dynamic had shifted in the household, Ophelia was still going to be there for Freya. It was the least she could do, it was what Rylee would've wanted - even though Ophelia refused to accept they were gone. She still held onto hope, even when her useless husband didn't, Ophelia refused to let go. Of her heart, of the love of her life.

inquiries.

How did your muse spend their first night in Arcadia, and where? Pulled inside to the home where Rylee and her daughters resided - Ophelia tried her best to convince them to come back home with her. Not knowing about the dangers of the night, it was at nightfall that Ophelia gave up the fight and caught herself trembling in the arms of the girls she had missed so terribly when strangers walked up to the windows of the house and smiled eerily. Told her the most horrible things, that left her petrified in a state of disbelief and shock.

Why did your muse choose to live where they do? In town, it only made sense after her reunion with Rylee and her daughters she practically sees as her own, even more now in the situation they cannot escape. She lives in the town house Rylee lives in … and they were roommates.

What was your muse doing when they came across the tree? Freya had just turned another year older - a birthday without her mom Rylee present - and her father wanted to take her out of the city and go on a camping trip. Ophelia had said yes to the invitation, if she got to arrange the trip and turn it into glamping instead. So with more than necessary of her wardrobe, boxes of wine, more makeup anyone could dream of in a big trunk, Advil and the stronger various kinds of medicine safely put away from where young hands wouldn’t reach, all stashed in the back of the car. How the other’s stuff still fit in the car was a miracle.

Ophelia joked around with Freya most of the drive, until both were dozed off by the comforting movement of the car. It was by a slap on her thigh she was awoken and confronted with a tree in the road. There was no way around it, so Ophelia suggested they turn back, where they were met with an unfamiliar town. The GPS had stopped working, Freya was still snoozing in the backseat, so Ophelia tried her best not to voice her concerns too loud. But the town shouldn’t be here, according to him, and frustration built up when they drove in circles - confused by it all. Coming to a halt, she wanted to talk to some people huddled together.

Only to then find Rylee’s face in the few people that stood gaping on the streets.

Has your muse left anything behind that they are desperately trying to return to or escape? When she reunited with her whole world - there was nothing Ophelia really missed, not for a while. Her home was but a home without Rylee and her loves there, she’d felt that the past months. But after a while, the life of glitter and glamour she once had, itched at her. Not being able to make use of her card anytime or anywhere she wanted, not eating at Michelin star restaurants, not able to return home and spoil her friend’s daughters has started to take a turn on her mental health.

[cloverdavis]

the building tension in confined space of the kitchen was causing clover to slowly blink. lips parted in hopes that air would seep in without having to take a deep obvious breath. she'd been so desperate for one. lungs needed soothing from the bold confrontation ophelia had been unafraid to give. clover's body always welled with tears in such moments. she'd emotionally spill into a mess. not a scene she thought would be well recieved by ophelia — so, she held it in. shifted the balance on her feet to help distract her mind. "yeah, sure." why not. submissive.

a pair of feet rushed up to clover matched with a grabbing hand. a need for her attention that was flaking off. "heyyyyy you." acting, clover turned on her heel to smile down at the young girl. eyes still followed ophelia walking away leaving the red head with a tormented mind. " did your sister braid your hair ?? you look like a cool princess." all the spunk she could conjure was lightly pushed out of her mouth before the pad of her finger booped the girls nose. "now, i know my hair isn't very long, but ya think you could give me a mini braid ?" a distraction.

[hartlings]

As she moved up the stairs, Ophelia could hear the youngest being excited to braid the fellow redhead's hair, she halted in her step at the top. Listening to the signs of life in the house, taking a moment to gather her breath she'd been holding in for way too long. Like a rubber band that stretched a little bit further every day where it could snap anytime and yet it held out unbelievably long. ''Don't mind auntie Phelia, Clove, she's been a bit sad. She doesn't say it, but I know she is,'' Molly's voice was soft when she got her hands on Clover's hair. In the bathroom upstairs, Ophelia tried her best not to lose her mind, slid against the door with her arms wrapped around her knees. Hot steam of the shower embraced the room in a warm hug.

For what had felt like forever had been maybe thirty minutes, tops. Not that time existed here. Time had stopped mattering. With a huge smile plastered on her face, Ophelia gracefully came down the stairs and her arms wide to swoop Molly into her arms. ''Have you been a good girl?'' Her eyes moving from Clover to the little girl, she booped her nose when Molly let out a gleeful noise. ''Do you wanna go see if Bastian has pancakes for us today, dollface? I think I heard that tummy of yours rumble,'' a nice excuse to get out of this god forsaken house as well, ''come - let's get you properly dressed, it's cold outside and we don't want you to catch a cold, do we?'' Her tone of voice kind, she let her back down to go let Molly get her coat and her sisters. ''I've got it from here,'' the redhead's voice deepened now that it was just her and Clover again, meaning to coach her outside. She made that clear when she held the door open to let her out, ''see you around,'' failing to find any suitable word for her, she decided on neutral grounds, ''neighbor.''

the end.

[interstellarsx]

location. ⁺ common house.

boredom hadn’t been a place where stella drifted often into. adolescence of being an only child had left her self sufficient. her imagination could fill a drab moment if called for. most of her life under the watch of her mother had been a solo feeling. it wasn’t until later when she gained knowledge of her sister, emery. would have childhood been different with another companion ? something she’d wondered many times, but always ended up being thankful emery hadn’t been a part of her early chapters. stella faced a lot personally that most kids were lucky to not experience. “i hope you know …i’m going to put makeup on you.” whether you like it or not. stella smirked to her reflection.

“it’ll be fun.” the mascara brush swiped against her lashes. it was growing a little dry from time. wearing a face of makeup hadn’t been much of a priority in arcadia. almost something to be thankful for. fresh faced. the amount of water she consumed without other options available had also been a blessing to her skin. something to be positive about in this hell town. “did your phone go off like everyone else's ? ….” blue eyes flickered to them in the mirror. “the universe has a funny sense of humor here.” there was nothing worse than the jarring static raging from the televisions. the phone call stella recieved was one only known of a false god. a call from her mother. she'd passed — the only signal from the failed call was one of alarming horror. maybe we're all dead already. maybe this is some hellish inbetween. - she thought.

// open starter.

[hartlings]

When the sun had made its return and graced its sunrays all over town, the girls had been the first to leave the house. After having been holed up for so long, after fearing the sun would never come up again, hope had returned to those who still believed. Which weren't many, from what she'd heard in the diner. In the streets. In the common house, where she'd brought the girls to for some much needed socializing with others. They'd found a victim in the house who owned a guitar, four girls trying to teach them Pink Pony Club in their enthusiasm, meaning there was no way to tie together what exactly they were saying. Enough time for Ophelia to get some of her own social interactions in, knowing they were looked after on the ground floor.

''How long's it you've been here again?'' Part of her curious about this woman's past, part of her excited to share something with a fellow make up enthusiast, ''I've got some mascara lying around, if you want some. Untouched, still new,'' none of that sharing make up with others. The idea of sharing bacteria with others gave her the heebie-jeebies. Especially those shared on a mascara brush. ''Yeah.... about that,'' she'd gone through the seven stages of grief when she'd seen her ex's name flash on the screen. Shock mostly. Her phone had been empty for weeks, how the Hell had that been possible? And how did it die again before she was able, after staring at it way longer than she should've, to try and pick up the phone with trembling fingers. ''I thought I hallucinated that, but then I heard others about it too. I wouldn't call it sense of humor, more like a sick sense of false hope.''

[bastiansurvives]

Open ! | Bastian and your muse at the diner

The darkness that had settled upon the town was...unsettling, if one was to put it lightly. But time didn't stop. It just kept on moving, and Bastian had stopped trying to make sense of any of it long ago. They had to keep on keeping on - and one way they would do that is to make sure they all got at least a somewhat satisfying meal in their bellies.

Bastian had made it his own personal mission to try and keep the survivors of the town fed with healthy and tasty meals, even if what he was working with was limited. He was working on a stew on this particular evening when someone stepped into the diner and closed the door firmly behind them. Yeah, life still went on and people still needed to eat, even if there were creatures looking to kill you beyond those doors.

He shook away the thought and slapped a smile onto his face, grabbing a spoon and a bowl to fill with a serving, soon approaching the newcomer and extending the bowl in their direction. "Here - please. You've got to try this and let me know what you think."

[hartlings]

The cracks in the facade she put up for the girls started to show with each passing day - or night? - of however long the darkness still fell over town. They were forced to go out and get food and other supplies they ran out of in their little house she refused to call home. And out of the six of them, she was the toughest cookie - or she liked to believe. There was definitely no way she let one of the kids go outside, and she needed Rylee to stay safe, to stay home with her girls... in case anything happened to her. Because the girls needed their mom over anything. Over anyone. So she ran like hell when the coast seemed clear - mostly.

There'd been one of them that had seen her make a run for it and screeched to get the attention of another two or three as well. They had said things to her to get her to stop, They'd mocked her, They'd played the guilt card and They most especially used her own loved ones against her. The threat of getting them killed one way or another. But Ophelia had tried to ignore all that talk, let it slide past her as her heart raced inside her chest and her legs hurt from all the running she did to get to the diner. Once inside, she'd closed the door in a hurry and loudly. Panting for air, she softly thanked the lords she had made it in one piece. The diner had become a safe place, along with the house they'd claimed as theirs in town, and it showed when the tears - when the relief - ran down her cheeks.

''Fuck,'' her voice cracked when she laid eyes on the chef - illuminated by the many candles in the diner - a man who radiated so much warmth and love, who saw right through her, who knew the way to her heart so much so that her walls broke right in front of him. ''I-'' she tried to bring out, ''I need a moment,'' Ophelia's hands found the lock on the door and watched out the window as she gained her breath back. They stood there, smiling, as ominously and creepily as ever. In the pitch black.

Turning around, having gathered her thoughts together, got her breath back for the most part and feeling her heart rate calm down, she made time for the chef's heartwarming offer. Taking ahold of the bowl and spoon, she melted at the very first bite that collided with her taste buds. ''If I close my eyes tight enough, I could picture myself eating this in a five star Michelin restaurant, this is the best I've had in a while. Shit, Bastian, I think you're onto something here.....a shame I can't enjoy this in daylight. I'd enjoy this much more with a good glass of wine. Sun on my face. Bask in the sunlight. Fuck.....will it ever be day again? I'm so fucking scared.''

[bvsyhead]

open starter location: the library after the 4:44am

Everything was a mess, despite Mia thinking that nothing could get worse; it managed to do exactly that. Not only was her sister trapped here, but another creature lurked in the town with abilities that would defy safety in the sunlight. The latter she wasn't exactly aware of yet, hence why she decided to take a morning daylight stroll and get some books. Reading kept her sane in this hellhole, allowing her mind to find solace in fictional stories where the protagonist fought their own battles and won.

Thumbing through the old books, she gathered enough to keep her mind at ease for a few days and was about to make her way out, but an odd creak rang out, causing her to bolt behind a table and stand guard. Mia wasn't sure if she had always been this jumpy; it was hard to think of the person she used to be after months filled with terror, but she swore it wasn't always like this. Squinting her eyes to get a better view, she was able to realize that the noise had come from a person, not some scary demon who wanted to rip her to shreds. With her hands up in a way that showed she meant peace, Mia slipped out from behind the desk and cleared her throat.

[hartlings]

Being jumpy had taken over her life the past month she'd been in town - now she was trapped in a literal Hell Town, as she overheard people call it in the diner, she felt her heart drop with every unnatural sound that broke the unpleasant silence. The everlasting eclipse, or whatever the fuck the darkness had been, had made her sleep less in fear of anything that could happen at any given moment in this place. Her biggest fear was one of those things entering because she, or one of the kids, had accidentally kept the doors unlocked or a window even though they were boarded up. The windows had already been tended to before she arrived. Before Alec drove them into this cursed town - though part of her couldn't really blame him, because it had reunited her with her best friend. Her soulmate. Her other half. Her everything.

In much needed distraction, she'd made her way over to the petite building they called a library in town. To get her hands on something. For the kids. For herself, maybe. Not realizing anyone else could occupy the space, it was at the sight of another figure that she clutched her chest with a yelp and needed a second to feel less anxious. ''Shit,'' she whispered apologetically, ''I got lost in thought, which is getting at me lately. Need something else to think about, and since music isn't an option, maybe you got some recommendations? Truth be told, I haven't set foot in here before, no clue if there's anything interesting.''

[ryleecarnegie]

a chicken nugget bounty paired with infinite chappell performances seemed like a glowing dream to not only her daughters — but also to rylee. that meant freedom from this place. a chance to run the arcadian road and not end up where she began. the hope hummed in her chest. she'd always allow ophelia to ignite brighter days ahead for her. even if they hadn't manifested — rylee loved to float upon the thought of them. coming down from adrenaline, the blond hadn't needed to stuff her hands into her pockets. they were heated from thrashing overwhelming stressors against the stalled vehicle. the mention of nightmares brought rylee's feet back down to earth. her body turned so she could lean back against the car. daughters filled the outside air with laughter while the adults tuned another note. "i heard ye." brows scrunched, "had hoped i'd been wrong." startled in the night. rylee recalled cupping her hands over lucille's ears while the sounds of ophelia tormented the walls between them. "it's this place, phelia." that explanation had been enough for rylee. anything beyond absolutely terrified her. ophelia had so much drive deeply rooted in her. something the blonde had always admired, but witnessing it unsettle ophelia in arcadia was worrisome. god forbid she'd lose the woman as she lost alec.... the thought made her ill.

" whatever this place is...." tongue lingered on her lip hating the realizations. "i think....it isn't kind. i think... it feeds off of our pain." as it was all she'd felt since arriving. it's what she felt coming into this place too. the wind felt gentle now in this moment. blanketing their tender moment. "i wrote down all of the girls nightmares. have been since that night molly started sleep walking. ye know, maybe i could help them.. ease it. just noticed it was all blending together. dunno why." terrified of the why. rylee slid her fingers out to ophelia's hand. allowing her fingers to give a comforting squeeze to the other. "i want to ease it all for ye too. we're a family." rylee felt a small wince in her chest. a distant ache of the loss of her ex husband. a part of her family she couldn't keep safe... "we can figure this out until we're weak in the knees.. but phelia.. i don't want it to take any more of us."

[hartlings]

''I'm sorry,'' her lower lip quivered, her eyes saddened at the horrors she'd put the girls through, for a woman who disliked apologies she couldn't be sorry enough to those she loved. ''I really hoped you wouldn't have...'' heard the aftermath of the night terror that had taken over her mental health. Ophelia nodded to Rylee's words, it made sense to think this place was doing this shit to them. Nothing made sense about this place anyway, all it had done was torment them time and time again. She couldn't imagine how other people kept their sanity for so long, especially those who'd been here for year after year.

''What's it they've been dreaming of?'' She shot a quick glance towards the girls, especially Freya who was entering an era of teenage years where she tried to uphold herself tougher than she actually was. Her attention was brought back to the moment when Rylee's fingers met the back of her freckled hand and she couldn't deny the comfort that was offered. The redhead scooted a bit closer so they touched arms and she ran her thumb over Rylee's to soothe her in return. The care Rylee had for her, Ophelia always wanted to give it back tenfold and wrapped an arm around her to let her friend rest against her. ''What do you suggest? Cuss God, or should we take it up with the devil? Ugh...I could go for a glass of wine right now. I wish we were at the cabin right now, sitting at the pier and staring at the sunset with some wine in hand.'' Like the good old times.

'A spider, there's a spider on your hair!' The second oldest screeched at the youngest darling which made Molly jump around, scream and ruffle her hair to get the spider off of her. She threw the hammer to the ground and spun around in a hurry, screaming for her family for help. Ophelia nudged Rylee to remain seated, she got this and got off the ground without dusting off her pants like she usually would.

''Hey, hey Molls, I think you got it,'' she got a hold of the girl's shoulders to calm her down and squatted down to get on her eye level. ''You're alright, dear, the spider's long gone,'' she cupped the girl's cheek and made sure the girl picked up on her auntie's calm energy before she took a look at the girl's hair and ran her fingers through the wild strands, ''look at you, your hair's all ruined, all your mom's hard work gone!'' She feigned a gasp, but before Molly had a chance to react, she tickled the girl all over and made her laugh until she couldn't anymore. With ease Ophelia had picked Molly up into her arms and brought her with her back towards Rylee where she sat with the girl in her arms. ''Giving this little one a break from the playground, you're not hurt, are you, Molls? No spider bites, no glass anywhere, no ouchies?'' She made sure with a silly tone to her voice, checking the little doll from head to toe before feigning a bite against her cheek with a growl that made Molly screech from laughter. ''See, Molly's totally fine, we won't have to expect a spiderwoman in our midst anytime soon. I think.''

[tessaendures]

Only a month and a half. Only. Only. That word held so much more weight than one could ever imagine in this context. Tessa felt like she had spent an entire lifetime in this town, but if she had been keeping proper track of the days as they passed, then it had only been a week at most. But maybe time moved differently here, too - just like how the roads all seemed to lead right back into the center of town.

Not to mention her question hadn't been how long ago did you move here. And Ophelia hadn't even batted a pretty little eyelash in her response. Because no one made the decision to live in Arcadia. Just like Tessa had, they all got stuck here and found themselves making the most of it.

Her head shook slowly, teeth threatening to chew a hole into her cheek as the true weight of it all collapsed upon her small shoulders. She wasn't made to carry such a burden - and yet, she had been forced to carry worse in her days. "A couple people, I guess..." The faces all kind of blurred together, ones she hadn't thought would be of any significance. Their words seemed more important now than she'd cared to hear then. After all, she was just supposed to be in and out. Not swallowed into some alternate universe that wouldn't spit her back out again.

Snapping her eyes back up to Ophelia when the woman spoke, she simply nodded to the explanation that people had been here for over a year. Numb. It was all she could really feel at this point. A numbness, a buzzing in her head that wouldn't dissipate through her ears. It didn't make any sense, and it wasn't easy to grasp - but Tessa had already seen more than her fair share of weird in this town. She was smart enough, she could put two and two together to make four. Arcadia wasn't normal.

"So...so what are we supposed to do about it?" She finally asks, splaying her hands on the table between them before folding them together, eyes focusing on Ophelia across from her. "We're all just, what...waiting to die here? I mean - there has to be a reason. A way out. Something? Just because it doesn't make sense doesn't mean there isn't an answer."

[hartlings]

A couple of people. She'd talked to only a couple of people. Which told her absolutely nothing about what Tessa knew so far - and she feared to ask what she knew at this point. In fear of being the bringer of bad news. What was it this girl was looking for again? Her sister, right? She'd heard something along those lines pass by in the diner. People talked. Even when they murmured, Ophelia caught more information about people than she sometimes liked to admit. It thrived her, distracted her from thinking of the worst, yet at the same time it gnawed at her mentally when another couple talked about having lost hope of ever escaping this place.

''I don't...'' her voice cut off, forced to swallow at the cause of a dry throat, ''...I don't know.'' Hoarsely scratching the words out. An answer Tessa couldn't do shit with, but it was entirely true to her experience in town so far. When she'd just arrived, all she had cared about was Rylee and the girls their wellbeing before finding out they hadn't been kidnapped at all. Or worse. But they were held against their will in a place there was no way of escaping. And now so was she. And everybody else who'd entered before and after them. Hell. It was Hell.

''It's all I've been trying to break my brain over lately, I've heard so many theories and I do wonder if we're in some sort of alternative timeline or universe, or in some sort of time loop we cannot escape. But time does seem to go on, people are not stuck in age, the seasons change. People actually...'' die.

She'd seen it firsthand with Rylee's ex-husband Alec. When he'd gone out the door to prove his masculinity after sunset and gotten himself killed by Them. By those creatures that roamed the streets and stalked the houses that were occupied by the living. Whatever living meant in this place. If she got any sleep, it wouldn't be much - afraid of losing Rylee, afraid of losing the girls by the danger of the night.

''People actually lose hope. Have lost hope. It's all this town takes. And takes and takes. So I.....I don't know if there is any solution to all this. I don't even know where to start, so if you have any ideas,'' she eyed Tessa with a sparkle of hope in her eyes, ''if there's anything that comes up in that younger brain of yours, anything that even sounds as silly - know that nothing's weird or silly or doesn't make sense, okay. I'm an auntie to four girls and I always take them seriously.''

[cloverdavis]

god. older people using a tone of disappointment or anger made the red head shrivel up. a once vibrant flower now tipped over and dried out. a therapist once claimed that clover had some difficulty with authority figures. "yeah— i didn't mean to like...increase a bad vibe in here." awkwardly shifting. rylee seemed like a bundle of warmth. luminescent in kindness. ophelia seemed like a spitfire. the sun was also a ball of fire... clover wondered if rylee had that fiery spirit in her as well, but didn't bring it to the surface as much.

eyes squinted closed. her presence unwanted. something in her stomach churned. "i'm sorry if i've upset you." or something. the younger woman was a little confused by the trigger points. tread lightly with this one, she'd note. "wasn't my intention." her foot could easily be placed in her mouth. clover knew that. a hand reached to peel her jacket from the back of the chair. "well, rylee just asked if i could watch the girls for a little bit while she—" clover didn't really know why, but she had agreed. "—but since you're here... ill just be on my merry way." a subtle smile was given as arms slipped into her jacket.

[hartlings]

Rylee was such a gentle spirit, even when she had all the reason to be angry. Ophelia was the complete opposite, she couldn't hide her angry emotions even when she tried to. There was always that look of fire in her eyes when something or someone upset her, maddened her or kept her brain too occupied at night. She couldn't contain herself, she exploded if she had to. Encountering such emotions after a run wasn't the best time for anyone to run into the redhead. This town affected her already - missing on all the things she once had, could buy and could get within the blink of an eye.

When the sorry hung in the air, Ophelia paused in her tracks, realizing what a shit she'd been to someone who had no ill intentions whatsoever. All the girl needed was some damn pot, to get through it all. Through this shitty situation they had no way of escaping. ''I...'' Ophelia's own apology lingered on her tongue, feeling uneasy to say the words, she rested a hand on the darling girl and gave her a nod. ''Thank you,'' she muttered apologetically, her tone having taken a turn on the harshness. ''Give me a few minutes and I'll be down to take over.'' Ophelia gave her one last glance before running upstairs to rinse the sweat off her body and make herself look decent again.

[mcckies]

That gave Valentina pause - the woman was right, she supposed. Last names certainly didn’t have to matter here at all. It’s not like it would come with questions of relations to others, or any importance in regards to identification. She could have totally lied just then, and nobody would have been able to prove her otherwise. Still, it was a part of herself, her identity, that it felt a disservice not to name herself when asked. Early on in her time here she was introducing herself with her middle name, worried she'd forget it. 

“That would be fantastic,” she sighed, more wistful than she expected herself to be in the moment. She couldn’t fathom the last time she got her nails done, purposefully looked nice to go anywhere. It’s not like there was any reason to get dolled up or date. But with the stress weighing on her shoulders the last few days, she would welcome some pampering with open arms. Selfishly, she thought of how wonderful it would be if a masseuse rolled in here tomorrow. 

Valentina eyed the woman at her next question. It's not like there was a reason to lie about her tenure (except to herself) or its hardships. Sometimes it was difficult to be reminded of that fact, though, especially from someone she just met. “Some people have been here even longer,” she responded, dully, before her voice softened a bit. She knew this stress and denial all too well. “It gets easier the quicker you accept and make your new normal. Trust me.”

[hartlings]

The longer she sat here, the longer it turned out to be not at joke at all. Valentine wasn't laughing, not even a hint of a smirk that would tell her this town was just some kind of fucked up prank some wealthy prick played on her - on them. She didn't want to give in - she hated to think of this place as real, but with how long Rylee had been missing... Defeat started to infect her brain, the same kind she'd seen for however long she'd been spending time in the diner. Ever since she arrived. Defeat that'd been written all over people's faces, a hopelessness that Ophelia resisted of giving into. She didn't want to. But sitting next to a girl who'd been here longer than ten years made that hopelessness seep into her chest.

''Even longer?!'' Her voice visibly softer, dying out as she brought out those words with a choked breath. ''Ten years -'' she wanted to ask so many questions, as her thoughts ran through her mind with a speed even she couldn't keep up on. Her lips parted, her eyes wide as she stared at the other, but the words wouldn't come out. She was taken aback by the harsh reality. Like a punch to the throat, she choked on her own words.

It took everything, every bit of willpower, for Ophelia to tear her gaze off the other. In order to ground herself. In order to gather her thoughts and not freak out over the situation. She felt a headache coming on. Fuck, she desperately needed a glass of wine. It physically hurt her throat when she managed to speak again, after a moment of closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. ''W- what have you been up to all these years? It's no life living here, it's......it's Hell,'' she drew her own conclusion after everything she'd heard about this place.

[cloverdavis]

interest tugged clover through the haze of the tension forming between them. navigating whatever was being felt was confusing. hard to pin point. clover's eyes widened scrambling to pull specifics from a memory that felt half-formed. blame it on the frequent smoking. "—uhm, i mean..." the redhead shifted unconsciously mirroring the other woman's stance. hands resting against the back of a kitchen chair. the wood was familiar beneath her palms. a reminder of the countless times she’d stood in this very spot watching rylee’s daughters sprint through the house—too fast. too wild for her to process what was happening. children made her especially dissociative. one seemed manageable. four ? insanity. organic birth control. not that she needed it.

"i don't know... she mentioned you two back in school together a few times." the problem with smoking too much weed was that details slipped through the cracks. fingernails— chipped from time and nervous chewing habit—drummed idly against the chair. "she just talks about you like you're some goddess. which, respectfully..." oh no. here came the finger guns. a click of her tongue. "i can see it." clovers gaze drifted to the table— lingering there. how many nights had rylee and ophelia sat at this very spot since coming to arcadia ? had rylee spoken to ophelia in that softer warmth—the same warmth that flickered in her eyes when she spoke of her friend in the basement ? regardless of whether it was platonic or not, clover envied whatever it was. "she just lights up—but I guess that’s just how she is..."

wrong. clover felt it immediately. her face twisting like she’d miscalculated an equation she was so sure she had solved.—but she'd never been great at math. "whoa... i did not mean to...—weren’t they... divorced ?" not the point. a sensitive topic. no doubt. grief was measured differently. clover hadn’t meant to overstep. hands lifted in an easy cautious surrender. "okay—fangs out. i don’t mean any harm. was just wondering..." didn’t lesbians move quickly ? she needed to redirect before she dug herself deeper. "plenty of milfs to go around...." clover sighed. quieter this time. hoping she hadn’t just stepped all over ophelia’s toes.

[hartlings]

Imagining Rylee telling this girl everything about her wasn't the only thing that made her nearly choke on air. It was the choice of words, a Goddess, that had her gulping and clenching her jaws a little too vividly. To think Rylee went around and talked about her to anyone in this place ... it did more than her than she liked to admit. The layer of sweat still sticking to her skin, the adrenaline of the run she just did, the hue of blood flushing to her cheeks - it didn't help with the whole slightly getting turned on situation.

''What -'' Ophelia's words were interrupted by a cough that bubbled up to her throat, the girl's comment about milfs was unexpected as if her previous words hadn't been bad enough yet. Jesus, this girl had balls to say such things out loud, she had to give her that. ''Is that what you're looking for? Love? A fuck? In this place?'' However quickly she had questioned it, her - rather, her facial features shifted from surprise to understanding rather quick. Nodding with a tilted head, she couldn't disagree within the second that had passed, ''I mean ... I guess that's fair. What else is there to do, other than just waiting for death? Might as well just fuck around, if your preference is women there's at least no way of getting pregnant.''

Getting up from her chair, she felt like this wasn't the time to think about fucking. Not when she hadn't had a fuck in over two months now, not when her hormones were off the rails, not when the woman she so desperately wanted to kiss was only so far away - ''God, I need a glass of wine.'' Ophelia shook her head, ''but there isn't goddamn any.'' They'd consumed so much of the boxes she'd brought in the car already, there were only a few bottles left they felt like keeping ... for whatever special occasion that'd be. ''I need a shower,'' that'd do, ''I don't even know why I'm talking to you - what even are you still doing here? What the Hell are you doing in our house?'' Christ, this wasn't the Common House where anyone just got to walk in and take and do whatever the fuck they wanted. It was a house they'd claimed as their own.

[dailygingerheads]

JESSICA CHASTAIN. ELLE Spain Magazine.

[tessaendures]

The first response that comes to mind as the woman shoos her hands away from the broken mess she'd made is 'I'm not a fucking child, not your fragile fucking porcelain doll'. But the words don't make it to her lips, caught up somewhere in the young woman's twisting thoughts. It's not until she's sat down in the nearest booth, the woman's hands still wrapped tight around her wrists, that her mouth finally catches up. "I'm fine," she grumbles, more venom in her tone than probably properly deserved or even felt. It's told by the fact that she hasn't pulled her hands from Ophelia's, eyes flicking between her face and her grip that has turned gentle upon her wrists.

"I'm fine," she repeats, a little bit more confident now as she sits back, freeing her hands from Ophelia's grip. "It's just a ... stupid plate." But she knows what Ophelia is talking about and it has very little to do with the plate that had shattered upon the floor. Its this place that after only a week has already embedded itself within her, chewing her up from the inside out.

She rubs her palms against her thighs, head shaking the slightest bit. "It just...It makes no fucking sense," she says. "I mean, it can't be real. This isn't - it makes no sense." The things that come alive in the night. The way she can't seem to get the hell out of this town. Nope. The easiest explanation is that this is all some bad fucking dream that she still hasn't woken up from and she just had to wait it out.

But a part of her knew that wasn't true either. She could pinch herself until her skin was raw and she'd feel every second of it. "How long have you been here?"

[hartlings]

''I know...'' was all she managed to mutter. It was easier to blame it on lifeless objects. Or on something or someone else. This whole fucked situation. Whatever deity was playing with them, with their lives, surely wasn't a god. With a sigh she bolted up from her uncomfortable squatting position and slid into the booth on the opposite side, to face her and grant her space. To give the both of them a second longer to linger in the moment of unspoken answers.

''Only a month and a half.'' Which was long considering nearly everything she'd ever busied herself with in her life before was now gone. Smartphones, laptops, any kind of device running on batteries had no life or place here. They eventually ran out and that was it. There was no way of charging. Of calling someone. The landline that hung on the wall of their house was of no use. Dead. Just another piece of decor that made no fucking sense. Crossing her arms, a way of sheltering herself too in this fragile moment, she dreaded to look up into Tessa's eyes but did it anyway. ''How many people have you talked to so far?'' Ophelia hated to be the one to bring bad news. To take someone's hope and crush it between her hands. That's what happened to her in this diner. Hear about other people's fate and have a meltdown in the back where no one could see her collapse.

A doctor that had spent fifteen years in town without ever getting out. A girl that'd been freaking born here without ever having seen a glimpse of what was out there. Of what everybody else in town was used to having. Hell, even the settlement leader - a place and people she stayed far away from - had been setting her roots into this town for the past twenty years. Even now she couldn't comprehend it. ''Frankly, a month and a half turns out not to be so bad,'' she started out. ''Some people have been here for over a year,'' Ophelia wanted to gauge her reaction, see if others maybe already had ripped the band aid clean off.

''Nothing makes sense here,'' just make the best of it and try to stay alive, she wanted to say. But the lump in her throat stopped her from being the yapper she usually was.

[babygctback]

Hunger had crept up on Baby over the passage of days, dull and deep seated yet considerably further down on her list of immediate issues. A supply of canned goods and chalky apples lay tucked away at the back of the Deputy’s office, in case of emergency — yet despite time elapsed since the storm's first sighting, the hidden stash remained practically untouched, a lack of appetite and ongoing nervous stomach aches combining forces in a way which left Baby tucked in bed most days, oscillating before reading and cleaning. Boredom left her feeling lethargic, the urge to do her usual rounds and explorations outdoors vehemently denied each time she approached the front doors and felt that increasingly familiar chill in her bones. She had breached the threshold on only two occasions, stir crazy enough to risk standing in the open doorway to fully take in the nightmarish change of scenery which had turned her home into a true form of hell. With no success, the wintery landscape remained untouched — snowfall betraying a visibly scant pattern of sunken footsteps, exclusively heading into the establishment, never out.

Baby had determined today was one best endured in bed. Thus, she remained there, horizontal; counting ceiling cracks and water spots for the umpteenth time, not blinking an eye at the opening of the front door. Content to let whoever wanted to snoop the space and move on with their day, she tugged the covers closer to her chin. Anything objectively valuable was available at Baby’s fingertips, stockpiled in the back room for easy access and protection. Even at her weakest and most scatterbrained, she would not be so foolish as to let strangers run amuck with precious materials. The body had been moved — or hidden, for lack of a better term — out of plain sight, which nipped most unnecessary questions and causes to loiter in the bud. Cause of death? Still unknown.

It was the voice which convinced her to spring back to life, bearing the promise of food. Excitement getting the better of her, Baby’s footsteps clambered around the corner towards the front foyer with a wave of relief, “Oh, thank you!” She gushed, her friendly smile lasting a few seconds before it wavered as the distant flurry of ice beyond caught her attention, a sore reminded of why this exchange was occurring in the first place. Unwilling to admit to the elephant in the room, Baby cleared her throat and warily averted her gaze, “Yeah, you can, uh—“ Suddenly hesitant, her gaze darted from the door to the food. “Here’s fine. Perfect, actually. Just not outside… please.”

[hartlings]

Having opened the door to reveal a foyer, Ophelia had set foot inside and waited at the counter but had left the door open behind her. In case she needed to leave in a rush after all. One couldn't be too careful, even during the day. Even though the people in this town preached daylight, Ophelia had this gnarling feeling that anything could happen at anytime in this town. Not even daylight could stop evil if this town truly wanted them dead. The blizzard had been a sign of that.

At the first sound of movement, her head moved towards where the sound came from, sounds she registered as light footsteps. Too light for a thug of a man. It's the sight of a younger woman that has Ophelia nearly break into an unbelievable chuckle. This was what the others at the diner had been breaking a sweat over? That couldn't be true. As much the sight of the other relieved her, she couldn't return the smile that graced her face. A smile that left just as fast when Ophelia caught her glancing at the open door behind her. This made her swallow. ''Should I close it?'' She had been too anxious to even think of anyone but herself. Of course she was letting the cold in like this - and with the temperature drop the cold was no joke. Moving quickly to close the door, she told herself this girl couldn't be the reason why the others refused to drop the food off.

Taking a second longer to hold onto the doorknob, she turned around like nothing was the matter and she unwrapped the scarf from her neck. ''Right, okay - you're not alone here, are you?'' Because holy shit did this girl look like a bag of bones. ''How long has it been since you've eaten?'' Ignoring the other's, and her own, personal space, the first thing she did was wrap her warm scarf around the girl's neck and take a better look at her. ''May I ask what your name is? I'm Ophelia - I've been working at the diner, I don't think I've seen you before.'' Like she hadn't seen many before. ''You mind if I stay here for a bit?'' Her previous worries out the door now - she could only care for the girl's health now. ''We can eat something together, there's plenty of food in there. And if you need more, I will bring you more, promise.''

[eclvpses]

Curious by nature, it was hard for Rosa to not want to delve deeper into the lore of Arcadia, into the creatures that lurked at night. Though it dimmed significantly since she came to town, Rosa was still a rational person at heart. She knew this was a useless feat - for now, at least. And they still scared her, whatever lurked in the dark. Rosa wasn’t brave enough to dare face them head on, picking up her pace as she noted darkness threatening to take over the evening sky.

The clinic wasn’t far - but closer was the diner. Rosa didn’t love the idea of being somewhere she didn’t know for the night, without the comfort of someone she knew, but she’d grossly misjudged how much time she had left in the day. By this point, she was convinced that the hours passed by differently than back home - they slipped through her fingers far too easily, and she was a conscientious person. She would have noticed if hours had gone by in the blink of an eye, but here she was. Stumbling into the diner and removing her hat to wring it nervously through her hands, wondering if people were really staring at her, or if it was her own paranoia. Her own worry that whatever creeped outside had slithered its way inside.

Rosa’s gaze skittered across the diner, looking for a comfortable and secluded booth - potentially for her to just pass out on. She’d been in a nonstop state of exhaustion for the last month. But when she noted the redheaded waitress staring outside the window, seemingly in a trance, Rosa could feel her blood seemingly freeze inside her veins, turning cold with the knowledge that there was only one reason why someone would look like that here. “Hey,” Rosa mumbled, soft but firm, unsure of how to approach the other. Just when she finally took it upon herself to reach out for her shoulder, hand slightly shaky with erratic nerves, the other seemingly snapped out of it with an expletive. It was enough to make Rosa gasp, stumbling back slightly, as she clutched at her chest.

“Jesus Christ,” She sputtered, “you scared the shit out of me.” There was an automatic snip to her tone - Rosa couldn’t help herself the best of times, let alone when she was startled, frustrated. It showed in her features, always one to wear her emotions on her sleeve, incapable of hiding how she really felt in her expression. But something about the redhead’s face made her eyes narrow in observation, only slightly - attempting to read what was off about her movements. She seemed scared. Genuinely scared. For a moment, Rosa wanted to glance outside, see what she saw, but knew exactly what she would face. It was easier to keep staring at the waitress instead, a sight Rosa could actually appreciate.

There was another small flinch Rosa picked up on - the same inescapable cringe that she always did herself whenever she was in pain. “They have?” Rosa hadn’t expected a compliment - or a passed down compliment. She knew she wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, didn’t even try to hide the fact. But she’d always grown attached to the maternal type, particularly clinging and kind to one of the more elderly and jovial waitresses at the diner. “Hm. Tell them I said thank you,” She mumbled, tone barely audible, suddenly as bashful as if she were presenting herself naked to someone for the first time. “Give me your hand.” It sounded like a sudden, barking, and unrelated demand, which Rosa stumbled over herself to explain. “I’m into, like… pressure points, and stuff. There’s one in your hand that helps with headaches. Can I?”

[hartlings]

Whatever the fuck that was - she needed to shake it off, blame it on the lack of sleep, anything that made her refuse to believe that what she just saw was more than just a hallucination created by her own brain. She'd blame it on whatever horror show played at night. What had once been an entertainment at night on screen, safely tucked on the couch with a wineglass in hand, had suddenly become a terrifying reality. Where one wrong move could mean the end of their lives. It fucking haunted her, even though she refused to give into it. She needed to stay strong. For the girls. For Rylee. For herself.

''Mhm yeah, they can be quite the hassle, little devils in disguises truly, but they're everything to me. And if you're able to be their favorite teacher, you're surely doing something right.'' Ophelia nodded along with her words, not a single word was spoken with falsity. ''But -'' the shock had faded from her face now, the hue on her cheeks returning when she smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes, ''- I don't think I'll thank them for you, their egos would only grow and they'd become the biggest shits.'' A breathless chuckle was present in her voice, the smirk only growing at imagining those girls creating havoc. Surrendering her hand within Rosa's when she asked for it, not entirely processing what had been said. It was then when she glanced past the woman and noticed how darkness had almost fallen over town.

''Shit, I completely lost track of time. I should've gone -'' home...whatever that meant. This was no home, she refused to ever call it home, ''- back to the girls. Guess that's too late now. Fuck.'' Quickly she left Rosa's hands to busy her own finding a very important item. ''Shit, keys... where did they leave them again?'' In moments of hurry, Ophelia often had the habit of blacking out when she needed to remember things the most. Blindly she tried looking for them anywhere behind the counter, throwing the towel, lifting cups, shoving plates and other things aside in an attempt to find the two keys hooked on a silver ring.

''Got them, Jesus Christ,'' she sighed in relief when she found them. At the usual spot on the wall where she'd seen them hanging around plenty of times before - for anyone to grab when they needed a shelter for the night. Quickly she made sure to lock the front and back doors, before throwing the keys on the counter and tending to the blinds of the windows, one by one. Gesturing to Rosa to help her out from the opposite side of the diner, so they'd meet in the middle and even close the blinds of the front door so there was no way to make eye contact with any of Them outside once they roamed around town.

''Shit, okay... where were we?'' Right, the hand thing. She slid into a booth, leaving the dishes she'd been doing for now. ''How does this work again? What do I do?'' Ophelia felt her shoulders and neck tense up - not liking being locked into a different place than from where her girls resided for the night. It made her clench her jaw when she thought of all the possibilities that could happen with her not being there ... of all the what ifs. But most importantly, how would Rylee fare with her not being there? If only she could shoot her a quick text message saying she was alright, lost track of time and would stay the night at the diner tonight. Fuck.

[ryleecarnegie]

"phelia—when we leave here..can you take me to see chappell roan ?" molly, tapped a blunt object at the car. the sight took rylee's mind back to the girl's last birthday. alec lifting their youngest daughter to the pinata that hung from the tree. full of glitter posed as fairy dust, miniature plastic pink ponies, and a variety of candy. only broken by the help of her husband. alec, now gone. leaving her with the lively hood of their children. rylee suddenly felt fragile. even more when lucille whacked off the cars side mirror. "—that's for my dad!" body stiffened. jaw clenching to hold herself together...rylee began counting backwards from ten. —and again. watching her children exhale what had been exhausting their young minds. too young for so much torment. sorrow. the fraying moment to her composure was disrupted by a pair of safety glasses slid up her nose. ophelia, pulling her back to life, a typical round of nature. to be grounded in the other woman's warmth. rylee had been worried about the woman. how strong the red head had been. how vibrant her mouth had been to spill so many frustrations about this harsh, horrific reality they were stuck in. "i knew you'd get vogue." soft. rylee's lips curled in the subtle happiness that ophelia could grasp anything she wanted. how deserving the woman was for it all.

a bat. fingers wrapped around the wooden shape. what would she do with it ? rylee possessed warm energy. if she swung, surely it would match molly's. soft, delicate, without malice. still, the blonde took it guided by ophelia's encouragement. her eyes fluttered open—the warm kiss still lingering in it's full feeling. she took in a deep breath walking up to the car. it'd done nothing to her, surely, but this place had. rylee tried to center that energy when she lifted the bat. elbow pointed jerking it back, rylee swung smacking the rounded edge to the body. the impact wasn't as damaging as ophelia's. vibrations from the hit startled the woman. jumping by her own hit...but the dent drove rylee to try the attempt again. this time, she grunted a rougher force. "you piece of shite town!" thwack! "mom—" freya laughed, surprised that her mother cursed in front of the younger daughters. as rylee continued to hit the car, excitement rattled the others—her daughters smacking the vehicle harder, in unison to relieve the tension brought upon them.

[hartlings]

As the girls were beating the crap out of one car, Ophelia leaned against another. To catch her breath, to gather her thoughts, to try and not give into the darkness of the town that was seeping slowly but surely into her brain. This couldn't be their new normal. She refused to let it. And yet, Molly's question rang painfully through her ears, because there was no way to promise them a way out. Not with what she knew now. Her vision was a blur from beneath hooded eyes, exhaustion had taken a hold of her too. The dark circles underneath her eyes said as much, not even concealer could cover the damage at this point.

Clearing her throat, she ran a hand delicately through red strands. Blinking once, blinking twice, her gaze fell back upon the blonde that had her heart in a tight grasp. A warm grasp, that made her heart skip a beat every time their eyes locked, every time she thought of her, every time her voice filled the air, it wasn't hard for Rylee to make her feel. To make her breathe and fill her lungs with air she so much needed in order to live. Rylee made her want to live, even in this shithole.

Rylee's war cry definitely made Ophelia's eyes widen in surprise, even for a split second. When the girls laughed, there was a grimace on her face too paired with a chuckle. ''Girls, I don't think this is your mom - she'd never harm a car cursing a town,'' she teased, ''where's Rylee Carnegie and what've you done to her!?'' Ophelia had come up to the girls, taken the last safety goggle from the bag and shoved it up her nose. Guiding Molly to smash some more dents in the hood of the car, the safest and biggest surface to hit without the possibility of glass or splinters flying back towards the girl's face, she gave her an answer to her question Ophelia only wished to ever fulfill. ''Of course sweetie, I'd take you and your sisters to her tour. We'd rent a camper and follow her on the road throughout all of Canada, the U.S., even Europe if that's what you want, Molls.'' Adding to that, she stopped hitting her and hugged her from behind, if only to hide the tears from welling into the beanie she was wearing, ''and I'd treat you on all the chicken nuggets you can eat, mcdonald's every single day, my darling girl.''

Leaving the girls to have fun with each other, Ophelia had taken Rylee apart to sit by another car not too far away to still keep an eye on them. In a hushed voice, she wondered out loud now. ''So you lot have the same nightmare some-fucking-how, and I....'' unsure on how to bring her own trauma forward, her voice died when she stared at a patch of snow in front of them, ''....I get woken up screaming too. How...how does that....work?'' The occasional giggle came from the four after a loud crack, smash or thwack. Which was good. Which meant they were playing around, having fun rather than having their minds occupied with the trauma that swirled through Ophelia's. ''That can't be a coincidence, can it?''

[tessaendures]

Closed for @hartlings | Tessa & Ophelia @ The Diner

The days had begun to blend together, one after another. She remembers curling up on a mattress in the cinema, of closing her eyes and attempting to shut out the world that surrounds her. Yet she wakes to the same nightmare with no clearer picture than the day prior. How much time had it been, now? She wasn't sure. But the gas gauge on her car continues to tick lower and lower and she seems to make no further headway out the town than she had the last attempt.

One minute she's driving on the road out and the next she's finding herself back in the middle of town. It makes no damn sense, and yet it has happened.

Again. And again. And again. And again.

With nothing much better to do she found herself at the diner with only the smallest of wads of cash remaining in her pocket - but it seemed no one was willing to take it. After a couple days of being given food and water and any supplies she needed to keep on living in this shit hole of a town, she felt like she needed to pay it back somehow. But she didn't feel particularly skilled at anything... But she could carry a plate to another hungry person in town and back to the kitchen, probably.

Or maybe not. She grabbed a couple plates from the booth that had just been vacated, her mind focused on so much other than the task at hand, causing one of them slipped between her fingers and crashed to the floor with a horrifying crunch. Tessa cringes, so on edge with everything that had unfolded over the last few days that she struggles to keep it together. "Fuck - shit, I'm..." she huffs before falling to her knees to try and clean up the broken ceramic.

[hartlings]

The sight that unfolded before her wasn't, however fucked that sounded, new to her. As someone who barely had adjusted, God she hated that word now - because who the fuck could adjust to this place, she was still trying to find her purpose. She was still trying to find out what they were supposed to do here, other than try to survive day by day. She had no clue where to begin, where to search for a meaning to all this - even though she had made a promise to herself, a promise to her girls, a promise to her neighbor she'd find a way for them all to escape this place. To go back to their lives. Whatever was left of it. Whatever that meant to those who'd been here for years.

She'd hissed at the sight of the broken plates and witnessing the girl's fingertips so close to edges that could make them bleed if she wasn't careful and threw her towel onto the counter before leaving her post. ''Be careful, Jesus -'' she swatted Tessa's hands away, ''- just let me do it, a few plates breaking is enough already, I don't need your broken mess on my hands too, porcelain doll.'' What she meant as irony, a play on words, still left her lips in a serious tone as she helped her up from the ground. Helped her into a free booth so she could take a proper look at her fingers.

''Are you hurt at all?'' Her eyes wandered over every piece of bare skin that had been close to the plates, still holding the other's wrists in her hands, not seeing a drip of red hue staining the porcelain doll right away. Exhaling a breath of relief, she briefly glanced over every other person in the diner if they were in need of any help. When that wasn't the case, she lowered to her knees to see eye to eye with the girl and held her wrists with a gentler touch. Her thumbs caressed the inside of her wrists, a soothing touch in an offer of comfort. ''Whatever you're thinking right now - it's not your fault, okay?'' The look in her eyes happened to be all too familiar to Ophelia and it made her care for her already, even when they didn't know a single thing about each other but their names. ''I know, the first thing you do is blame yourself, but don't you even dare. Don't you fucking dare, Tessa. It's this place - it feeds on the negative emotions. Don't you dare give in.''

[ryleecarnegie]

was this how days were always going to be ? woven black curls of smoke seeping into the minds of her daughters. tormenting them. keeping them prisoner to the terrors that loomed over the town of arcadia. this nightmare of rylee's wasn't resting. it was shown in the way her youngest ghosted in the night — controlled by something that crept unforgivingly. tainting the adolescent minds with darkness rylee tried her hardest to keep out. no mother wanted to see their children's feet struggle in days that were supposed to be light. rylee sighed beneath the held child. molly was warmly weighted — curled in her arms. fingers brushed through molly's lightly curled hair. just the wisps that wouldn't fit tucked in her braids. the braids she tried her hardest to do herself, but always asked rylee to help with. just so she could wake with wavey hair released from the woven state. "shhh—all is well, darling." the mother cooed. finger tips lightly traced molly's eye brows, down the bridge of her nose — before brushing against her lightly pinked cheeks. soothing away whatever tried to sink in.

truth was — ... rylee didn't quite have an answer. the answer she wanted to speak had been untrue to the fate of the girls' father. keep them safe. unharmed. the reality was grim. rylee felt like arcadia was just a thin sheet of ice ready to crack, and pull all of them under at any given moment. "frey," rylee spoke calmly breaking up her oldest daughters pressing questions. "ophelia is right. she's just having a deep dream. go to sleep, love." fingers traced the same pattern across molly's face as she tried to convince herself of her own spoken word. after a moment, rylee gave into freya's words. "close yer eyes, darling. —i'll be there in a moment. just going to be right here with molls. alright ?" assuring, rylee drifted her small grin across the room.

just before shifting her gaze to ophelia. almost in search for answers, as rylee always had searched for some strength within the other woman. where she lacked. ophelia had always balanced her in that way. "ophelia is right there. it's alright. no need to worry." soothing still, rylee coated her own words letting the other woman's name relax her shoulders. happy to not feel entirely alone in keeping the structure of her family strong. "rest your eyes, darling." the blonde reassured again before her fingers left her daughters face to reach for the blanket that rested against the couch to cover them both. rylee felt bad for the cool damp patch upon her knee that molly rested against. perhaps the coolness of her clumsy spill would detour molly away from what wrapped around her dreaming mind.

[hartlings]

''Listen to your mom, okay?'' Ophelia added to the soothing only their mom could provide best. Surely she had been there for almost all their entire lives, at least as long as Freya could remember, but Rylee was their real life support. Their mom they'd turn to when they were in pain, when they needed to be cuddled or comforted by whatever kind of devilish acts life threw at them. The kind when one had fallen off their bike, or hurt their finger by a splinter from the treehouse, or when another kid at school had been stupid, or when a boy had tried them out just a little too much. Fucking boys. Fucking men. She rolled her eyes at the train of thought she got lost in - even for a hot second. Unseen by the dark of night, anyways.

Ophelia's hand remained featherlight on Freya's arm when the girl had lied her head back down onto the pillow, tracing her skin gently. Soothingly. To let her know she was here, keeping her from harm. Whilst Rylee kept Molly from harm as best she could. They were trying their best, whatever that meant in this fucked up town. ''Get some rest, too, babes. I'll keep watch for a bit.'' She whispered over towards the sofa. Her head resting onto her other hand, a bent elbow gave her enough vision to watch over the other girls. Claire and Lucille seemed so peacefully asleep, their breathing reminded Ophelia how lucky they were to still be alive. Together.

Her mind kept her occupied for a long while before sleep also got a hold of her and pulled her into a light slumber. Images of the blonde flashed by in her mind, her heart aching for what possibly could've been if she hadn't let others take her away. If she hadn't prevented herself from keeping herself at bay - if she hadn't held back in high school. When it had been just the two of them. Them against the world.

the end.