"Well, unfortunately, I'm the sheriff, so yeah, I'm a cop."
He lowers his hands and gestures around his waist, where it's very clear he doesn't even have a holster. Hopefully, that lets her trust him more.
"I don't like carrying a gun around town unless I have to."
He steps closer, even stuffing his hand in his pockets to seem more casual.
"I understand that you need to be in control of yourself, and me dragging you away would do the opposite of that. So I'm just going to say this: if you want to risk your life against those monsters, we can't stop you. We can't protect people who don't want our protection. I just hope you decide that our protection is good enough for you as the others have."
— GREER cannot help but roll her eyes at his gesture and his words , throwing the butt of her cigarette to the ground and crushing it underneath her boot as she only half - listens . “ protection ? from monsters ? ” she laughs hollowly at this , her expression unimpressed . “ if that's what's going , if you're here to protect us from ‘ monsters ’ , ” she drags out the word with a mocking tone , the venom in her voice practically dripping , “ then you're not doing a very good job , are you ? considering someone's only just died , haven't they ? so forgive me , sheriff , if i have very little faith in your correctional department . ”
mirabelle stood a few paces away, eyes lingering on greer's cigarette for a moment before looking away, arms crossed. "relax," she says dryly, arching an eyebrow. "i'm not here to babysit. just.. figured you could use a break from your self-imposed exile." tilting her head towards the trees, she can't help but shiver at the creeping shadows. "i get the allure of standing here staring into the abyss, but you might want to save your nerves for tonight." she watched greer closely, trying to gauge her reaction. "look, i know you didn't ask, but.. i get it. this place messes with your head. you're new, yeah? i'm pretty new myself, and admittedly i still don't understand everything, but been here enough days to know that cigarette won't help much with the fear. plus, it's a shit habit." her rambling comes to a halt, as a faint softness flickers in her gaze, one she quickly hides behind a shrug. "if you want company out here, i don't mind sticking around. you know, strength in numbers or something like that."
— GREER takes another deep drag of her cigarette as her new companion speaks , apprehension clear in her eyes at the words spoken . a rebuttal dances on the tip of her tongue as she listens , ready to be spat with whatever amount of venom she can muster , but the unexpected chiding of her bad habit distracts greer , surprising her and drawing an amused smile from the grim woman for just a moment . a familiar chiding , one her sister never let her leave any visit without saying ; once an annoying comment , now another thing she would forever miss . greer is quick to remove the expression , stopping the nostalgia before it can overtake her , though the scowl she previously had doesn't return to take it's place .
the offer is spoken , and then , it is silent for a long time . greer watches the other woman carefully , analytical with her gaze in a way only a long time journalist can be . distrust courses through her , an unfortunate instinct that had been with her since the beginning ; fear joins in , screaming in her ear to keep her distance from the town , insisting that the danger lies with the people within it .
“ you're making me sound like a moody teenager . ” she breaks the silence , interrupts the panicked voice in her head before it can take over . her tone is dry , but there is a touch of amusement , of humour , that hadn't been there previously . her levity is short - lived , however , when greer takes another glance at the forest , the feeling of dread and unease returning as she does so . “ how are you so . . . calm , with all of this ? ” the question is asked softly , unsurely . her empty hand reaches into her pocket , fiddling with the pack of dwindling cigarettes anxiously , itching to take out another and light it . “ how can you - how are you just accepting that they're telling the truth ? ”
Lucas approaches cautiously, trying not to spook her like she's a deer that could leap into action at any second. His hands up to show he means no ill will.
"You can't really blame us for being cautious now, can you? We don't want you to get hurt. Or worse."
He winces at the memories of bodies. Especially those of newcomers who didn't know better or tried to deny the reality before them.
— A scoff escapes her lips before she can stop it , her scowl only furthering at the words of the other . “ what're you , a cop ? ” she asks with a scrunch of her nose , tapping some ash from her smoke while disdain drips from her every word . “ being cautious is one thing , threatening people with physical restraint so they conform to your so - called safety standards , that's another thing entirely . very authoritarian of you all , i must say . ” there is something comforting , almost nostalgic , about being a smartass with authority ; a sense of warm familiarity , in a town that is entirely unknown to her .
— RAYS from the afternoon sun shine through the trees , melting away the remaining frost on the yellowing leaves and warming greer's near windburnt cheeks . though a chilly autumn was no irregularity for the detroit native , there was something sinister in the air , something she tries desperately to ignore , that makes the cold air seem to seep into her weary bones , inescapable no matter how many layers she may wear . despite this , her glove - less right hand remains outside of her coat pocket , a nearly finished cigarette held tightly between two pinkened fingers , orange lighter clutched in the palm of her hand .
the unease only worsens the longer she stares into the woods , the shadows among the trees looking all the more ominous . she takes a deep inhale , the harshness of the cold air stinging her nose and throat as she does so , refreshing and punishing at the same time . as she exhales , she closes her eyes , cutting herself off from staring into the forest , and the dark , irrational thoughts that seem to cluster in her mind whenever she was near it . footsteps approach , the sound of gravel crunching taking away from the otherwise eerie silence , and successfully pulling the young woman from her reverie . greer's eyes remain closed for a moment longer , this time to contain an eye roll .
“ i'm not running off again , you guys don't have to keep threatening to ‘ restrain me ’ . ” forever assuming rather than asking , disinterest and annoyance cloud greer's voice . her eyes open only to fall into a scowl as she turns to look at the one who interrupts her moping . “ what do you want ? ”
josephine stood on the curb with the toes of her boots just barely hanging over its edge , balancing on the balls of her feet . denim-encased arms wrapped around her slender frame , a means of self soothing , as her misty gaze concentrated leftward towards the town center where emerson's body had been found the night prior .
it wasn't that jo was unmoved by her passing , not necessarily , but in purgatory ( as well as life ) , death was the inevitable means to an end . the people of oblitus could only hang in the in balance for so long — eventually , the reaper would come for them all . josephine's brows furrowed together , lips curling inwards to press into a fine line , gaze slightly narrowing as if trying to see through space & time to witness emerson's dance with the reaper first hand .
the clearing of a throat gave her a start , jumping , as if she had been yanked out of a hypnosis by the snapping of fingers . josephine's face flew to her right , meeting the eyes of who appeared to be looking for her attention , head cocking like that of a confused feline as the bridge of her nose scrunched . she took a step back , feet now fully flat on the sidewalk .
" hello , " her voice felt raw , like she had swallowed shards of glass . her shoulders loosened , sinking from where they had shot up to her ears . jo sighed , stare returning back to where the cooled corpse had been just hours earlier ; " — sad what happened to her . "
— IT is a strange thing to mourn someone you've never met , and yet even in this , greer is selfish . empathy had never been her strongest suit , and while she had wept upon hearing the news of the death of a townsperson , it was not with grief , but fear ; a fear for herself , for what her fate might be . fear that death's hunger would not be sated with just one , that this was only the beginning . fear that death is the only way to escape this cursed town .
lost in thought for too long , greer finds she has wandered closer to the site at which the body was found , and that she is not the only one to be stuck in the labyrinth of their mind . she clears her throat before she can stop herself , before she can realize that not all were strangers to the deceased , that some may be in mourning . greer avoids the confused look from the stranger , unsure of her own goals as well , and instead stares at the same point the other had been watching previously .
tension becomes evermore present in her shoulders at the words spoken , unsure what should be said , what she should do in a situation like this . comfort could not be offered by a stranger , at least not in greer's eyes , and so she offers the only thing any good reporter has at her disposal at any given moment : too many questions . “ did you know her well ? ”
halloween was over and thankfully they didn't have to go through that again for another year. she didn't understand why most people liked it so much. maybe it was a chance for them to forget where they were and pretend like they were back in the real world, but mara didn't remember the real world. every year halloween just marked another year of being here and how it doesn't get any easier. and of course it wouldn't be a halloween without a death. she remembered emerson but wasn't particularly close, she liked to take things from people and mara didn't like that. but that doesn't mean she wished the monsters would get her. it was just a reminder of where they were. the dinner seemed quiet this morning, maybe from mourning or maybe from all the alcohol that was drank last night, but marama was happy for the lack of noise. "it's okay, they only take as much as they need," she says out loud to whoever was sitting at the diner bar with her. her ominous words always given at the wrong time, especially because no one asks for her thoughts.
— ICY fingers wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee , once seeking warmth from the morning chill , though the woman who's fingers hold the mug had forgotten the cooling drink long ago . tired eyes stare blankly at the wall , thoughts swirling around the news of a death in the town she'd only just began accepting was not a dream ( she had not yet accepted that it wasn't a nightmare ) . reality was beginning to set in for greer that perhaps , just maybe , there was something strange occurring in this town , after all . a monster , never mind multiple monsters , she would not , could not accept as a possibility , however , and so she attempted to rationalize an explanation , any explanation , ranging from serial killers to government experimentation ; denial would forever be the most powerful defense mechanism , and when fueled by fear , it was near unstoppable to greer .
a voice breaks through her grim rationalizations , though the words spoken do nothing to alleviate the dark cloud that had begun to form over greer's head . “ what are you talking about ? who are ‘ they ’ ? ” frustration laces into her tone as she questions , her eyebrows furrowing further into a frown . “ why is it that only a third of what everyone says in this town makes sense ? ” she mutters this part more to herself , a lack of sleep and understanding successfully taking away any polite filter she might usually have .
STATUS : open !
LOCATION : outside benny's diner !
IT HAPPENS WITHOUT WARNING . one second cherry's minding her fucking business and the next she's blinking at a figure down the street, close enough to see but simultaneously too far to get to . she blinks twice more, her expression twisting in disbelief as her heart clenches something fierce . clenches with something like fear .
emerson is there . emerson is right fucking there and she's looking at her . she's talking to her .
cherry's eyes bulge as her breath quickens, her eyes pinned to where emerson's fuckin — ghost is speaking to her in broad fucking daylight . what the fuck ? what —
" what the fuck ?" it's half breathless , her breaths shallow and quick as she stares at emerson, at the place where she stands in the middle of the fuckin' street like nothing even happened . cherry feels panicking climbing up her throat like a physical thing . she turns to the first person in her proximity and grabs them by the arm . " do you fuckin' — do you see that ? do you see her ? she — " cherry chokes on her own alarm briefly . she swallows . " she — tell me you fuckin' see her . " it's half a demand, but also closer to a plea than cherry would ever want to admit .
— THE unexpected touch nearly sends the cigarette greer had only just carefully plucked from her near - empty pack to the ground , and a frown instantly mars the young woman's face at the perceived transgression . “ woah , woah , woah , what the hell do you think you're doing - ” she begins to say , though her anger abates , and her frown is quick to change into an expression of confusion as the words spoken by the other reaches her ears .
“ who ? ” she asks before she can stop herself , her own journalistic curiosity replacing the thought that perhaps she shouldn't feed into the crazy lady's delusions by asking questions , and perhaps she should actually attempt to get away from said possibly crazy lady . dark eyes dart around , trying to find the woman that the other speaks of , or for someone to help greer escape this situation , but neither is to be found . “ what are you talking about ? ” she continues to ask despite herself , despite her continued disbelief in most stories told by the townspeople . it was just curiosity , she would continue to insist to herself .
| davika hoorne & she / her | Welcome to the crossroads, GREER AMARIN. Another lost soul that stumbled across a fallen tree in their path. They appear to be TWENTY - EIGHT years old, but it’s hard to tell. The town bares no resemblance to DETROIT, MICHIGAN, are you sure we can trust them? Seeing as they ended up here because, SHE WAS TRYING TO FIND A LOST LIGHTER. They definitely weren’t looking to end up here. Now they’ll have to rely on being SHREWD to survive. Hopefully their COWARDICE doesn’t get in the way of that. I guess if we’re going to pass the time tonight, might as well request LIFE FOR RENT by DIDO. Oh, and one more thing, your new role here will be RESIDENTIAL HOUSEKEEPER. We’ll be sending out welcoming party over to the MOTEL. Welcome to Oblitus, the only thing you have to remember, when the sun sets– don’t open the door.
BASIC INFORMATION
NAME: Greer Eilidh Amarin
NICKNAMES: none
BIRTHDAY: september 29th
AGE: twenty - eight
HOMETOWN: detroit , michigan
BIRTHPLACE: detroit , michigan
RELIGION: agnostic
EDUCATION: B.A. in Journalism from Michigan State University
SEXUALITY: bisexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single
FAMILY: Dara Campos , a former foster sister who refused to lose contact over the years .
LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english , thai , conversational spanish
PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS
HEIGHT: five foot seven inches
EYES: amber
HAIR: dark brown
BUILD: willowy , slender
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: none
PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR
HOBBIES: writing , crochet , collecting too many books and reading almost none of them
LIKES: rainy days , black coffee , a fresh pack of cigarettes after a long week , old typewriters , people watching , a weekend without plans , the smell of fresh ink
DISLIKES: deadlines , crowded rooms , overwhelming silence , an unhappy ending to a story , cops
QUIRKS: loses any lighter that comes into her possession , constantly fiddling with any jewelry she has on
STRENGTHS: meticulous , attentive , persistent , can be charming in her own weird little way
WEAKNESSES: faint - hearted , quick to anger , controlled by her vices , unwilling to accept that she might be wrong
MYERS-BRIGGS: ISTP
ENNEAGRAM: Type 5 , The Investigator
MORAL ALIGNEMENT: Chaotic Neutral
ZODIAC: ☼ libra ☾ taurus ↑ aquarius
TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic
WHERE WAS YOUR CHARACTER WHEN THEY SAW THE TREE AND THE MURDER OF CROWS? WHERE WERE THEY GOING? WERE THEY TRAVELLING ALONE? HOW DID THEY FEEL?
A frustrated sigh escapes the reporter’s lips as she climbs into the truck, slamming the door shut loudly, as if the sound would let the woods know how disappointed she was, as if they might cower with shame at the sound. Her fingers, tinged pink from the brisk, autumnal winds, wrap around the keys she’d left in the ignition, turning them once, twice, thrice; the cold that englobed her seemed to grow in strength with every failed attempt at a start. On the third turn, she holds it, listening to the engine of her much too old but dearly beloved vehicle huff and puff and groan, then become silent once more. “Come on, pretty girl, don’t make me have to call a tow…” She pleads softly, comfortingly, rubbing a hand along the dash as she speaks, as if it might ease any distress felt by the truck. “Please, please, please.” She whispers, her patience with her vehicle wearing all the more thin as a fourth, fifth, sixth turn of her keys causes nothing but more spluttering. She sinks into her seat, feeling even more despondent, then reluctantly pulls out her phone.
The call takes no longer than a few minutes, but the stress it causes the young woman afterwards is near unbearable. It would be hours, if not a full day, before anyone could get out to her unfortunately secluded location, and with no family or friends nearby to call for help, she is stuck with that as her only option.
Greer leans against the silent traitor of a truck, one shaky, still pink, hand holding a cigarette between two fingers while the other digs into the pockets of her parka in search of a lighter. “Almost a grand to tow a goddamn truck, does he think I write for the fucking Times or something…” she mutters to herself, exasperation joining the overwhelming hopelessness she feels as her search for a light proves futile. Her pockets held too many old receipts, a can of bear spray she’d almost emptied while practicing how to use it, and an expired pack of birth control, but her bright orange lighter she’d just bought that morning, at possibly the shadiest gas station she’d ever been to, is nowhere to be found. “Must’ve dropped it somewhere in the clearing. Fuck.” She groans as she turns to look down the road, in the direction she’d followed a few hours before, which led to a clearing her coworker had insisted she check out, a clearing he was so sure would hold some sort of detail the police had missed.
Though it was still early afternoon, the sky seemed to darken the longer she stared down the path; the trees seemed to lean into each other, creating a terrifying hallway effect that did nothing to ease the anxiety Greer was already experiencing. The wind picks up slowly, and then all at once, pushing indecipherable whispers into her ears that sound like warnings, though the white noise of wildlife is completely silent, the birds no longer singing their afternoon songs. All the more eerie is the sight of a fallen log just a bit further down the road, blocking the way. Try as she might, Greer could not, for the life of her, remember a log being on the road earlier, when she had returned from her investigation, nor had she heard the very distinct sound of a tree falling nearby at any point.
Fear grips her heart tightly, the piercing of its talons an all too familiar feeling for the young woman. Fear had ruled her life for too long, had forced her hand on nearly every decision she’d ever tried to make. It is a misguided sense of determination that filled her heart then, despite the strange sight of the log and the sinister air that surrounded it, a foolishness she mistook for sudden bravery. “I’m not sitting here for eight hours without having a smoke.” She says firmly, her decision made. She walks towards the log. The faint caws of a murder of crows can be heard in the distance.
DESCRIBE YOUR CHARACTERS FIRST DAY/NIGHT IN TOWN. DID THEY ARRIVE IN THE DAYTIME? WERE THEY WARNED BY THE RESIDENTS? DID THEY HAVE TO BE RESTRAINED?
Greer's first afternoon in town was a loud and confusing one. She had stumbled in with almost more twigs on her head than hair, and confusion apparent on her face. While many a kind soul had attempted to gently inform the young woman of the predicament she'd found herself in, she refused to listen to anything anyone had to say, convinced there was some sort of mass hysteria, or perhaps even a cult at work. As a journalist, she was intrigued, but insisted she had to return to her vehicle, that a tow would surely be on its way by now.
Despite further insistence from the townsfolk that there was no leaving, Greer continued with her belief that it was madness that plagued the people, not some supernatural force. Denial is a powerful thing, to be sure, but it is only so strong in the face of proof. It was only after her fifth attempt to trek out of the town resulted in once more being 'looped' back in, and the threat of being restrained due to the approaching nightfall and its dangers, that Greer began to believe that there was something strange going on.
WHAT DID THEY LEAVE BEHIND? WHAT WAS THEIR LIFE LIKE ON THE OUTSIDE?
A quiet apartment in a noisy city. The neighbours cat waiting outside the only window, expecting the wet cat food she buys only for his visits. a cluttered desk in a busy office, with an ever-growing pile of overdue assignments - a worried coworker who adjusts the pile each day, ensuring it won't fall, until the desk is eventually cleared. several empty coffee cups, lipstick smudges stained onto the edges after years of use. a sister in name but not blood, leaving voicemail after voicemail asking if it's getting bad again, begging for a returned phone call. knocks on the door from the paper boy, wondering when his favourite storyteller started locking her door. an eviction notice, written in hesitant handwriting, months after it should have been done. a life full of the little things; a life only half-lived, but entirely loved.
pixelskylines
titsay
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
