luminaries

mumu 25+ written by jen she/her

[luminxries]

Tagged by: @abysmxls

Add 3 films you think your muse would like.

Bee:

Birdie:

Eloise:

Eve:

Ruth:

Susie:

Sylvie:

[abysmxls]

closed sinister starter for @luminxries ( eve )

he'd made many mistakes in his life but the past year had been spent undoing as much of that damage as possible ( most of which had been self-inflicted ). calamity & evelyn had endured and their reward was the home in which they now stood. they were sober and stable and ready to live a quiet life together. he carried a box into the room and sat it down next to several others. "that's the last one, dove. i think we are officially moved in."

[luminxries]

in all her childhood, she has not imagined the selfishness of a home for just two. the luxurious feeling of space that was hers alone to occupy with thought, decision. her world had been to share with others, to sacrifice. now, there was only calamity standing in their home. space in her kitchen for the boxes of belonging they owned.

"you have so much." there's still some measure of wonder to her voice, after all this time. she, who'd never had a bank account or a washing machine. she, finally blessed with those comforts of flesh-bound life. for now. "have you chosen an office?"

[abysmxls]

he had the map. the compass. the gps. the trip may have been sylvie's suggestion but vince was always going to be in charge of the details. he had to be the one with the final say. every sentence was a dick measuring contest and he never lost!

it was nice to be out here. away from all the bullshit. maybe he'd actually impress sylvie and make it three whole days without a yelling match ( should be easy, right? it was only him & her and why would he yell at his best pal anyway? ). he takes a second bite into a protein bar and pauses mid-chew at her question. stop? no. so what if they got caught in traffic and got here a little late. there was still at least two more hours of good light. "why? so you can piss again?" the question is a little more passive-aggressive than he intends.

he swallows and finds something nicer to say. "a break? yeah. let's take five and then i think we can go for another hour."

[luminxries]

she allows vince space to adjust his wording. the insult glances off her, as much does. the idea isn't to try and start a fight anyways, merely to see how amenable he would be to deviations in their original plan. the beats pass, serene as her expression while she measures out the space between his sentences. one mississippi, two mississippi—

"thank you." she minds her manners, taking out a granola bar from her own pack, everything carefully measured and weighed out for her to be able to carry. "where do you think we should look for," although everything looked functionally similar in the woods, there were still certain landmarks to hit. particular spaces that had been checked off on the map as enough space for tents. "to set up camp?"

[luminxries]

closed blair witch project starter for @abysmxls ( vince )

they'd been walking on an unmarked path for nearly an hour, the destination no where in sight. she wasn't positive if they were looking for a cabin, or simply a space to set up camp for the night. after all, she wasn't the leader of the expedition. she could make suggestions, but far be it from her to declare what must be done.

so, she doesn't phrase it that way. she pauses her steps, adjusting her backpack, "should we stop?"

[luminxries]

closed purge starter for: @myriadxofxmuses (charles)

tabitha mae carsen had been instructed not to answer the door. she should ignore any ringing or knocking. she wasn't supposed to see any visitors, not when she was healing so slow from her fall down the stairs. the cut cheekbone hadn't been deep enough to stitch, her wrist brace just bulky enough to stick out of any sweater.

she was clumsy, she was often wrong about events. there was nothing more to do than follow the instructions as they were given. it wasn't as though she could survive a purge night alone.

she should not intrude in any conversations she heard. not when the voices elevated, or the dish shattered in the dining room. but surely, a gun shot fell out of the norm.

surely, seeing her husband gasping his last breath on their polished wood floor would be an excusable offense. the blood catching on the fibers of their just vacuumed rug, a stain that would not come out. she did not rush to his aid, instead waiting to be allowed in the room by the new addition to their household. "h-have we met?"

[abysmxls]

he has selective hearing. and as typical for him, he selectively hears susie's reply to ignore the complaining bits. "babe," ( they weren't dating right now, but he'd still call her babe. they'd be back together in a few weeks anyway ) "why do i always have to remind you of what happened in new jersey?" the last time he'd done just that and asked the spirit to recount it's demise. he'd be possessed. possessed. how obvious did it need to be that he'd experienced a traumatic event and didn't want to repeat it? he couldn't even blog about what happened for months. zap rolled his eyes. she never paid attention to him.

the phone returns to his pocket and zap looks at the files they were supposed to be sorting through for leads. could blurry photographs and printed reddit posts be considered files? "none of these are recent. no one cares about people who died two hundred years ago." no offense to them. and zap wouldn't mind helping their spirits with unfinished business... but he needed views and clicks to make a living. "we need something sick. like a victim of a serial killer.." those ones always got some attention. rip to the victims and their families.

[luminxries]

she loved to be reminded of new jersey. it had been really nice just talking to someone who really listened to her, and seemed to like really get her complaints. it was too bad that none of that had rubbed off on zap during the exorcism, it would have been cool to have a thoughtful piece of that ghost left behind.

"they care about famous people who died two hundred years ago." but she didn't know the first thing about where to find one of them. probably asleep at this point, or bulldozed over, or something else. she didn't keep track. "like, we could solve the black dahlia." that sounded like a free trip to la, which wasn't too bad. but, he didn't stick with that idea, he never did.

she sighed heavily, the empty cup on the table already making her wish she could leave the conversation and get something else. maybe some boba, something to pass the time. "or you could be the serial killer." the ghost might be too pissed to talk to them, but it was worth a shot.

[abysmxls]

@luminxries

zap had been clicking refresh on the broken screen of his iphone 13 for the past ten minutes. it had taken less than a fraction of that to skim over the article once it was finally published on the webpage. he lowered the phone with disappointment and looked at susie to convey the bad news. "one line. i got one line." susie would have to remind him for the umpteenth time that they were a team and that one line belonged to her too. "i basically caught the killer for them this is such a joke!"

he should have just taken the tip and found the murder weapon himself. he'd been trying to mind the red tape and not contaminate evidence but apparently that's what you had to do to get a little credit around here. "solving crimes was a terrible idea. things were so much better before." zap continued to whine without interest in susie's response, much like a toddler that was working on tiring himself out.

but what exactly were they doing before this? the podcast had stopped paying the bills. the tv spot they'd shot for the discovery channel had never been picked up. they were circling the drain. "i should just keep asking the ghosts for winning lottery numbers. sooner or later that's gonna work out..."

[luminxries]

"how could you say that?" she's annoyed, draining the last of a frappucino, the straw slurping against the last dregs of ice and whipped cream. she'd only read the few sentences that promised to include her, maybe a picture that captured her looking particularly investigatory. "i got one line. they just made a typo or something— made it sound like you caught it."

it, him. it didn't matter to her. she wasn't really into the whole true crime thing that they'd picked out. her voice was better for asmr, but whatever. "why don't you try asking the ghosts to just tell us who killed them." she kind of hated digging around for murder weapons, it was muddy and gross.

"we need a psychic for lottery numbers." she corrects as though she's talking with someone a decade younger than the man in front of her. "i could call my guy in new orleans, but why?"