“ SO -- i made breakfast --! “ daphne announced to her new ... roommate ... soulmate? no. she was going to stick with the roommate thing for now. she wasn’t just some floozy who would fall in love with the drop of the hat -- she’s dated far too many creeps to be so trusting & naive. but at the least, they had to live with each other ... for eternity. “ great discovery -- these pans seem unable to burn anything. how crazy cool is that ! like, what metal could this be made of ? “
like a child left unattended in a candy shop, villanelle was absolutely in her element. sure, there was that nagging, underlying reminder that she was somewhere that she absolutely didn’t belong, but that voice in the back of her mind, the logical and self-aware one? definitely not very loud or dominant throughout her life, and certainly not very loud right now. she was an opportunist at her core; the lavish life excited her. naturally, the quaint parts of this so-called good place bored her to no end, and the people made her want to tear her hair out, but this part? this was nice. colohuara was proving to be one of her favorite spots, with vibrant colors and paved walkways that reminded her of… something familiar.
dark, doe-like hues remained locked on the bite-sized dessert she was balancing between her fingers, her eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. brigadeiro, they told her. she liked the way that it rolled off of her tongue. she could feel a set of eyes on her, and it drew her focus away from admiring and examining the dessert, her eyebrows shooting up. “ what? ” she questioned skeptically, not used to gaining much attention here thus far. shifting her gaze between the dessert and the stranger, she suddenly nursed the dessert close to her chest in a possessive manner, “ i’m not sharing. ” the ex-assassin stated sternly, bluntly, expression unwavering. however, after a few beats, one corner of her mouth twitched upwards in the slightest, her gaze growing inquisitive. reading people was, after all, second nature to her. old habits died hard. “ have you ever tried it? ”
yes. it was true, dorothea had a sweet tooth. her love for deserts far outweighed her hatred of fish, amongst a variety of other dishes. but in the middle of a war, supplies to feed an army, a village and a monastery had always been slim ( especially with caspar’s appetite ) let alone enough supplies in order to craft the finest of desserts. yet, although she did enjoy a sweet treat she never perhaps saw the need for food in the way others did.
“ oh, no -- i wasn’t ! " she raised her hands, flustered at the accusation. it came from a raw spot, a nerve dorothea barely remembered having. but there is trauma from growing up on the streets that underline her every thought, and still deeply embarrass the songstress to her core. “ i was merely observing how much you were enjoying it -- that ! i ... don’t actually know what that is, “ she admitted, down cast eyes, turning away ever so slightly from villanelle. “ i assume it’s nice though ? well, i’m sure everything here is nice -- “
Pansy had seen a few muggle neighbourhoods in her time. Lived in a couple too. But this afterlife – this good place was something else. The house she’d been given was… very American, lots of big lawns and white fences – places that should be filled be families. She’d wandered through a couple of these, before, and never truly felt at home there. But she found herself drawn to Ligliano on her first day, it’s cobbled streets not really matching up to those from Diagon Alley, but close enough that she had decided to take up a loitering space. Looking perhaps out of place with that blank face, glassy eyes. Dead.
“Hey.” She pushes the word out at the nearest person, not used to the crowds here. All presumably dead. “You dead too?”
“ as dead as nemesis and the ten elites -- “ dorothea remarked, her tone carrying a tune in a sing song manner -- seemingly, already adapted to existence in the afterlife. but alas; really, dorothea is just a singer who is compelled to speak in operatics just to calm her nerves.
a pause as the mage turns around, green eyes sparkling with her smile, “ that is to say, yes, very dead in fact. crushed under a building so i’m told -- not that i think i look it one bit ! “ she tried, so hard, to push out some sort of warmth, humour, as she once had as a leading lady in her theatre, it didn’t take an empath to assume the other was currently dealing with the life-ending news of their mortality.
“ -- who do you think has the biggest secret here ? “ daphne has never had to try and make friends before. she had friends, 3 of them and a dog too -- perhaps, just maybe, the damsel was just a bit rusty on the correct ice breakers. & what person is unhealthily interested in the private lives of others ? freckled cheeks lighting up in a smile, “ there’s probably a lot of incredible stories and mysteries in every person you see, like, they totally had to do something crazy to get into here -- - right ? “
( zendaya coleman. nineteen. she/their. ) everything’s fine, DAPHNE BLAKE, you’re in the good place! do you remember your last days in SCOOBY DOO? but don’t worry, your ( closets of violet hued clothes, everything that goes bump in the night, cherry lipgloss & rose coloured glasses. ) will fit perfectly with the rest of the good place, so long as you commit to the BRAINIAC despite your tendency to commit to ( clumsiness ) that the architect of the good place said you were. it’ll just be like a fun acting exercise! just play along and everything will continue to be fun.
welcome to crystal cove, coolsville -- the most hauntedest place on earth ( and yes that is the spelling.
the youngest member of the blake clan, the richest family in town, daphne was always the most well known girl about town -- if a blake girl was running for prom queen, you can bet she was a shoe-in to win.
yet daphne didn’t exactly fall into the traditional “blake” role set up by her five incredibly succesful elder sisters, whilst yes -- she did have a passion for fashion and traditional ginger hair, she also had a penchant for getting into, and simultaneously solving, a lot of trouble. and so did her childhood group of friends -- fred, shaggy & velma. they are far too inquisitive for their own good -- and set up the group mystery incorporated to look into why crystal cove was so haunted, and why everyone felt that it was ok to milk this as a tourist industry.
living in the most hauntedest place on earth, there was a lot of trouble ( far too much for some meddling kids to be putting their noses into ) but so much trouble taught daphne a lot of things. how to ride a motorbike, how to pick a lock with anything, but more importantly, real monsters are always just humans in disguises. except when they’re an evil entity. which is like only one out of a hundred times so focus on the human part.
everything can be explained by logic, street smarts, and daphne’s outside of the box thinking. she isn’t exactly what you would refer to as book smart, but she holds a niche amount of knowledge in the wierdest of things to help out in every situation. she also has a black belt, and no, not just a designer one.
is there much of a plot to scooby doo? no! but daphne’s just a sassy, competent but danger-prone and accident ridden teen who loves mysteries enough to give nancy drew a run for her money. she’s a jack of all trades and whilst her talents may not be seen clearly as she isn’t the go-to for anything, she’s indispensable !
people often assume her to be snobbish and vain because of her family, but she’s truly a sweet and trusting person outside of the occasional snark and deep set naivety.
deathly allergic to shellfish, she passed away at a party where someone fed her calamari rings instead of onion rings rip.
lowkey . . doesn’t think she’s dead and thinks this is a reality tv show and so basically will keep on asking people where the confession room is and looks off into the distance as if she’s on the office.
she’s an angel . . . a baby .. i don’t know what to put here other than stream trap of love by daphne blake for clear skin and passage into the goodplace (and hmu 4 plots please)
‘ uhm , nope ! i couldn’t find the way . ’ witch giggles , for it’s a blatant lie - but she needs to play the dumb blonde , so . that would mean getting lost , right ? ‘ oh gosh , i wouldn’t even know . i mean , why wouldn’t they ? it’s the good place . you can always ask janet ! ’ personally , sabrina would simply look herself - but she can’t say that out loud .
“ oh -- right, her “ hesitantly annabeth nodded, blonde curls mixed with grey bobbed along in their tightly pulled ponytail. “ i mean no offence to -- that, it’s just -- “ chapsticked lips pulled to a grimace, edges of teeth tugging on petal pink “ -- - she’s a bit odd don’t you think. the only person i’d trust to know everything is my mom -- “ mummy’s girl or not, the omnipotence of janet felt as if she was squaring up against her own arachne.
OH , fallen angel she is : sent to this good place with short end of the stick , unfamiliar device in hand , chest heaving up and down , sporadic as hands tremble around phone , “ i do not — i do not even know … credence’s cellular number , “ she says almost shamefully , “ i do not know how this — i want — i want to go home , i want to go home to credence . “ even though the fear there still lingers , of seeing nothing but darkness , she still … she craves safety . bottom lip trembles , eyes watering , “ he is … he is here , right ? he is in the … the good place , yes ? “
she is a bleeding heart. and she is bleeding. she was bleeding, she has bled, her hands and clothes are stained with a reverent scarlet red that she can never not see. but although she is ruined in every sense of the word, a bleeding heart can still feel. “ oh -- i’m so sorry, “ green eyes started to tear up slightly at the edges, threatening to spill at any second like the blood spilled at the taitelean plains. “ this, this is our home now -- - i, i don’t know credence but perhaps we could ask the all knowing lady hm -- ? “
girl carries the box INTO / OUT OF the car , it filled with contents from shopping around town ; davina figures it’s better to make this house homey at the very least . ❛ — i just … ❜ the box WOBBLES as she walks , the large object covering half of her face before she chooses to put it down for a moment , huff leaving pretty lips as she places a hand on her waist . ❛ this place is GREAT and all , literally gorgeous - and normally i’d love to be right next to the lake but - ❜ the small witch will shake her head , loose strands of hair falling to frame her face . ❛ i recognize SOME of the faces around , here . and i’m not all too fond of them , considering all the times they’ve tried to kill me , so – not to thrilled about THAT . anyways , you got any dead friends here ? ❜ perhaps she’s a bit peppy for a dead person . but like , she’s used to this . so .
dorothea can’t help but watch in awe ; verdant eyes watching with close intensity ready to help at a moments notice. she doesn’t want to intrude too much, to assume that the other can’t look after themselves ( she’d hate if people made that assumption about her ). perhaps, part of her is just curious to see what the other is buying, dorothea’s own fashion choices, whilst stunning, have been noted to be several centuries out of style for most of the other residents. “ no, no -- no one i know is here. thankfully, or maybe not thankfully -- “ her words are hesitant, each syllable hanging onto cherry lips for just a second as the sounds echo to the air. there’s a longing in her voice, perhaps tinged with regret, “ it might have mean that they all survived where i fell, but well, to put it politely -- - there are some i know who have passed, and if they’re not here - - i dare not think where they might be ... “ was she deserving where those were not? she didn’t dare dwell. “ but -- ah ! perhaps it’s better to not know anyone, more friends to make for eternity -- aha ? “
perhaps this was all still a dream , oh , how she wished such a statement was TRUE . ‘ a dream ? doubtful . ’ no , this place was far too pristine , too organized to be a dream . there is perhaps some attitude in her voice , but hope always finds attitude when in a situation she doesn’t wish to be in . ‘ where i come from , there’s always a loophole to death . if you can figure it out , more power to you . ’ which is unfortunate from her . but she’s young , has time - she’s sure she’ll figure something out .
“ well -- yeah, you could always just go for rebirth -- you wouldn’t be you anymore per-say but, i guess we all just passed on that option. “ annabeth’s speech began to tangent off, words passing through lips without thought in their usual unconscious stream of trying to prove something ( her intelligence ) to those who she didn’t know. “ or someone could just bargain for you, as long as you don’t pull an orpheus and stuff it up. so useless men are, “
“ library of alexandria — ? ” please don’t take it too personally : child having never had much of a formal education outside of mary lou , education ranging from that of hatred of witches to hatred of wizards , “ is it just a nice library or something of the sort … ? i can not say i have heard of it before , “ modesty admits , but consider her curiosity piqued . “ what kind of scrolls do they have ? “
“ well -- i don’t know “ annabeth replied, words seethed through clenched teeth. the sharp breath & the sharper pain annabeths pride felt, the flaring of the nostrils as she admitted to something she didn’t know. how embarrassing of a first impression. “ you see, it burnt down in 48 BC, and with it, destroying much of the information of the ancient world. i’m curious to know what was lost to the world, ancient jokes, inventions, it’s kind of crazy to think about it. “
“ awwe , did my compliment not steal your heart ?? “ it hurts . she reminds him of MC : headstrong and too willful for him to ever understand — so he thinks , that if there’s anyone who deserves to be in this plastic place , it’s probably her . it’s only a MOMENT does he think about this , though , shit eating grin to appear on his face . it was easier to do this over text than it is in real life so he chalks everyone up to someone like vanderwood and calls it a day . “ are you perhaps … the afamed … goddess 606 ? ” teasing lilt in his voice , eyeing her for some kind of reaction .
SHARP eyebrow raises, & she can feel her nerves start to fray at the edges. they had already unravelled by a a mile at this point, it was surprising annabeth was even holding it together at this point, but the shakiness of her full toothed smile was perhaps the clearest indicator of more preying thoughts on her mind. but it’s like an iron anvil to her chest that betrays the aloof, yet irritated front, grey eyes widen, and then clearly dart away. the “ annabeth “ she was supposed to be apparently wasn’t the daughter of the goddess of wisdom, some airheaded schmuck, and so, she deducted acting ignorant to any mention of gods was possibly her best game plan. “ goddess ? me -- ha! hardly, i could never. still, more of a title than a description. “
‘ have you checked out the library here yet? ‘ by the overflowing laptop bag swung loosely over annabeth’s left shoulder, it was obvious what her answer would be. she wasn’t going to be here for a long time, she only assumed, but the wealth of information at her fingertips was too much to pass up. ‘ it’s as if the library of alexandria never burned down -- do you think they actually have those scrolls here ? ‘
renee’s lips curl upwards in a benign smile; it doesn’t surprise her in the least that dorothea hasn’t made the same revelation. even without the ban that this place seems to have on swearing, she doesn’t think thea capable of much swearing in general, let alone the kind renee was accustomed to from her teammates. “ i don’t think any of them work, nor could i try to give an example. i tried, and all that came out was a similar word. listen, i’ll try again - shirt. ” laughter bubbles up as she’s unable to speak the word correctly. “ how odd. ”
she’s not so used to being able to emote so freely ; so used to a sombre monastery-- no food for parties let alone their armies. it was nice & perhaps dorothea was actually enjoying herself ( besides the niggling doubt in the back of her mind, clawing at her thoughts, slowly unravelling like a cat at a ball of yarn. ) ‘ that’s so -- ‘ she finally brings up a hand to stifle the river of giggles, leaning back from the railing. ‘ i mean, the only real swear word i know is fudge -- ‘ another string of laughter, ‘ oh, i feel like this could amuse me for hours on end. you’d think they’d come up with more than this for entertainment, you know ?
