#MELIORISM : the belief that the world gets better ; the belief that humans can improve the world . dependent muse for redcreekfm . blog penned by fawn (she/her) .
is it not always a question of faith when tragedy strikes? dimly, yaser registers that the phantom sensation of his forehead pressing against the prayer mat still lingers — both a reprieve and a rarity. he brings his fingers above the crease of his brows, brushing away the stray strand of hair. something possessed me, he wants to say. too soon. "it's different here," he settles for. more of an answer for himself than it is for the question asked. his gaze moves past caleb, lingering on nothing at all over his shoulder. "calmer. there's... something about the hour before the sun rises." the remnants of tragedy hang in the air between them. maybe caleb's question wasn't really a question at all.
a breath passes. he brushes his hair back again, other hand already moving to gather strands at the nape of his neck — if only to keep himself busy. looking at caleb is easier now. his voice dips low when he says, "surely you understand, right? nowhere better to be awake than here."
a beat of silence , then another . . . it takes two full laps of absolutely nothing for caleb to react . mostly in reason to simply let himself breathe , let yaser breathe . he knew well of the energy each individual brought into the chapel , every single one as different as the one before and certainly as the one after . the one now felt oddly calming , despite all circumstances given . so it came natural to him , motioning towards yaser in means of him to continue his doings - hands soon disappearing inside a darkened robe again . “ i am not to argue with you , that's not my intention to behold in a situation like this . or any time , really . your reasonings are simply that . . . yours . i was honestly just curious about you ” truthful as it idled on softened features and his gaze holds the other for long enough to convert authenticity into what was said . “ you didn't sleep well , did you ? ” suddenly , as if it broke out of him before thinking better of it . it burns his throat all the way to the tip of his tongue - judgement bestowed a heavy weight on his shoulders . instantly , densly , a small cut . yet to bleed , screaming in agony at every move . “ forgive me . that's not for me to . . . ” a mouth filled with apologies , albeit dark eyes transfixed in genuine worry towards the other .
LOCATION: red creek cemetery, graveyards
FROM: AKIHIKO TANAKA
TO: OPEN STARTER [ 0 / 3 ]
a cloud of smoke, the crunch of soil underneath a pair of feet. akihiko has a black wool coat wrapped around them as they leave the main building of the cemetery, heading towards the grounds. the weather is cold enough that their breath fogs up where they part, and they search their pockets for a pack of cigarettes. shaking one off, they put it between their lips, followed by a flick of lighter, a long, deep breath of relief. as if they were not breathing before, and now oxygen can finally reach their lungs. it takes them a few minutes of quiet smoking to hear a pair of steps, and they ponder for a minute more whether they will remain far away. it doesn't seem to be the case, and they watch the other near the section where they are. it's likely they are visiting a grave here, as is ninety-five percent of the time, no one else comes to the cemetery otherwise. and while they would take a bet that people prefer being alone here, they still ask— wanting to smoke a bit more. could they do it elsewhere? sure. but this is their favorite section with the best view of the forest and the town. "do you have to be alone or can i continue smoking here?" it's blunt, although they don't try to be, that's how it usually comes out. a beat later, "did you come because of what happened?" death reminds people of death. you hear of someone dying, and you remember someone close to you who died. it's as easy as that - at least, for someone in akihiko's line of work.
it's almost time , caleb states to wonder . well , within the chambers of his own mind rather than boldly aloud . he doesn't mean to startle any further , if he did at all . it's near time for clouds of cold to emit from nostrils and spoken words , and there is something deeply melancholic about that fact at hand . something that has caleb stop in his tracks instantly , the ground ready to give beneath his following steps . it's almost winter and that meant time went by , without asking permission . . . without a second thought of empathy towards the ones left behind by it . breath drawn , previously held in order as to not disturb the other , now pushes freely past slightly parted lips . ignores the first inquiry in it's entirety - albeit a tad blunt , it mostly comes across as natural how caleb blinks up at the nightsky instead . a picture painted many times before . “ there is something so severly profound in seeking condolence in a place like this , don't you think ? ” without a trace of apprehension , alike stating the way dawn turns into dusk eventually . “ tell me , why do you think some do it ? " caleb doesn't spare akihiko a genuine glance , couldn't bear to . not now , not like this .
a small gasp breaks from her. "father caleb..." bridget startles upright, a hand flying to her throat, pearls of breath gathering there. his silhouette sits askew against the chapel light. she watches him like one watches a painting hung crooked: with reverence and unease, carefully tucked behind polite shadows, where even god might miss it. "i couldn't stop thinking about heather." the pew's wood is cold through her shawl. she sits smaller than usual, spine bowed, gloved fingers worrying the edge of her veil before lifting it off. "i thought maybe if i came early, i’d find answers. or quiet. or…" the candlelight flickers as she swallows once. "i don’t... i don't know what i thought." and, much to her dismay, she still doesn't know what to think. for the first time, she fails to find peace in the chapel, as the hush presses too tightly around her. could this be her first test of faith? despite herself, she looks to him for guidance. "do you think she knew..? when it happened. do you think she had time to be afraid, or did the lord just… take her?"
a shift , and as minuscule as it went by . . . something within caleb changes alongside with it . it's a flicker set to life merely by the sound of bridget's voice . truly a thing motivated by years of practice whilst posture slips into refinement , with eyes so delicate as they lay upon the sight of her . he feels heavy in his shoes , alike anchors slowly but surely reeling him towards an undeniable end and yet another breath lodges to the back of his throat . " it's not easy to tell what is right and what isn't , quite certainly even moreso once tragedy strikes . and perhaps that's where our truth lies " one palm faced upwards in a motion for her to sit on one of the nearby benches . " you see , we aren't supposed to know , because these things do not concern us , sister bridget . what happens once we are called into the light . . . what it feels like , what we see . all of those matters aren't in our hands " tone kept quiet as if afraid to spook a wild animal trapped in a corner . " we just have to trust the good intentions of our savior " it's with a gentle touch placed atop bridget's wrist - warm and grounding , even if said comfort felt almost grueling . " pray for her , keep her kindly in your thoughts and reach for the ones in need of it . that is our priority and obligation all the same . "
the hand barely touches the item before scott zooms past in a blur, careless and grinning, as he snatches it out from their grasp. "nuh uh, no can do." spoken in an easy drawl, too casual to argue with. he doesn't even break stride -- just tosses the item up, once, then catches it behind his back. "this isn't for sale," he lies. the item, which was the last one remaining, is tucked under his arm as he lifts his shoulders into a lazy shrug. "you'll just have to come back tomorrow."
if anyone was to ask her , the scene unfolding right in front her eyes would be considered flat out magic to jiyah . one moment she held a perfectly fine bag of multicolored sprinkles , only to be left with a gaping lack thereof mere seconds later . it's tethering the egde of it being jarring , almost like something missing was just another poorly capped excuse to settle the drop within the pit of her stomach , constantly there . . . always a reminder . rounded eyes , wide in wonder stared at him and bewilderment was a sheer understatement as to what stretched the widths of her face . “ are you a magician ? ” simple , yet spiked with a gasp too loud to fit the confinements of a grocery store . “ i don't know what to say , i never met a magician before . is . . . there a specific way of greeting one like you ? a magician , i mean . is there a typical catchphrase ? do you ever say huzzah ? ” then , an idea that had jiyah's hand wildly grasp for scott's upper arm . “ do you do birthdays ? ‘cause mine is coming up pretty soon and i’m afraid i'll bore my guests . "
open starter with: charlotte
setting: lakeside grill, 6:30pm, 2 days after halloween
Her finger trailed along the edge of the wine glass as she stared off into the distance, too exhausted to do anything more than stare, breathe, and occasionally lift the glass. It was quiet at the grill, which was no great surprise, given the events of the previous days. With good reason, it seemed a significant part of the town had sequestered themselves in their homes, but Charlotte, who had pushed off a grocery trip until the day after Halloween, found herself with mostly bare cabinets, and no energy to cook. Instead of home-cooked, tonight it would be to-go orders eaten out of plastic containers on their living room couch. She’d just raised her glass to her lips when she heard the barstool beside her creak, and though every neuron fired at once, telling her to run, she found herself calmly looking over at her new neighbor at the bar, a welcoming smile on her lips. “It’s nice to see someone else in here. I was starting to feel like an asshole, making all these people work when there’s some criminal on the loose. At least if they get us in here, it’ll be a somewhat classy affair.” Oops- too casual, she thought, kicking herself. Few people wanted casual small talk during tragedy, and even fewer wanted jokes at tragedy’s expense. “I just mean we’re probably safe in here,” she said again, her easy-breezy facade somewhat cracked, but still inappropriately cheery. “Can't stay cooped up forever, anyway."
lip found it's place inbetween sharp edges of her teeth , and she easily succumbs to the habit . it stings only momentarily , but it's sufficient in reeling her back into the moment - present , faced with someone who took her accountable in a situation nobody wanted to be in . both her arms clung tigther around the bag jiyah held so snuggly against her chest . she rarely stumbled into the lakeside grill , yet something beckoned her on this day out of all . just to be there , everywhere . jiyah hadn't set a solid foot into her own four walls for the past couple of days , too feeble to settle down . . . like a bird too afraid to become prey . so the nod comes easy . “ just passing through ” not much in actually linking back to the topic at hand . “ it's scary , isn't it . how the same streets that kids used to play in only couple of days ago are now completely empty ” it's with a huff so heavy it might've cracked her chest along with it . “ those kids are missing out on the winds . perfect for flying a kite ” those kids , a kid . . . heather .
tldr : caleb & your muse find themselves at the redemption chapel , two souls meeting in dire times tragedy .
dawn befalls town , sickly glow to the clouds scattered across the horizon - there's an undeniable hesitancy in it , as well . as if the divine powers themselves unsure how to proceed from given circumstances . heather had been found , cold as the fear she held in her eyes . it had caleb wondering . . . but perhaps that wasn't the ultimate approach for someone of his profession , perhaps he was meant to believe - believe in a higher power , in a right fixing what had been wronged , to guide the herd through misery . albeit there was agony ever lingering , alike a thick coat of dust fighting to not bury everything all and beneath it . " awake so soon , child ? " , timber softly echoes through the rows of the near empty chapel . though almost too big . . . too raw for them both , it held a certain kind of comfort meant towards consolidation .
“ who would want to know something like that? ” the question comes with genuine curiosity though he's not really expecting an answer. rohan understands that she's probably just teasing him and is shameless enough to not find it mortifying if that isn't the case. at the same time he can't possibly imagine anyone really caring about that kind of information. then again, small town gossip has always been too confusing for him. “ …i guess probably my mother… ” replying to his own questions is a bad habit he hasn't been able to get rid of no matter how hard he tries, mostly because he doesn't even notice when he does it. still, he's satisfied with the answer so he shrugs and reaches for the popcorn bag to grab a few. “ having fun people watching? or… victim browsing, if you were a serial killer. ”
if years on years sitting by the sidelines and simply . . . watching has taught jiyah anything then it might as well just be the exact moment when someone's energy clicks into her own - when their shared nightsky mingles to become one for just the briefest moment . and with rohan , she feels it the second words tumble out his mouth , seemingly as unrestrained as her own . which excites her , visible in the way she barely contains a squeal behind already parted lips - oh , she's so ready to talk that waiting her turn feels like nails on chalkboard . “ is your mother kind ? i bet she is , i mean . . . look at you ” a thought crosses and her expression changes in design , brows furrowed and lips twisted into a mask of contemplation . “ well , i guess you couldn't , but i can . you've got kind eyes . your mother must be , as well . the council has decided ” a nod that is sufficient in satisfying her end of the conversation momentarily . though , jiyah leans in a fraction closer . “ that's me , i am the council . i've decided that , yup ” pride that rings near hollow and flat under rohan's following words . and suddenly there's only mortified confusion painted across otherwise soft features . “ what . . . ” it's a feeble thing that's nothing beyond breathless . “ no , i mean , no ” confident , then solely laced within another intake of air . “ a serial killer , huh . . . ”
LOCATION: THE FAIRGROUNDS, GAME BOOTH GALORE. SEVEN O'CLOCK P.M.
heath walked through the world with an air of performance, even under the shade of night when he was sure no one would be looking. it filled the gap, the one that strived for recognition while his skillset largely fell behind the scenes — call it compensation, exerting himself in ways he couldn't otherwise. maybe that's why he chose this spot, one highly populated, arm straining to knock down a towel of discarded milk bottles. he didn't even look before his mouth began to move, speaking through upturned lips and a toothied-grin approach, “ y'want me to win you something? ” he played, unable to quell the provocation within his tone. “ i'm on a winning streak. wouldn't be hard to make sure you go home with a new teddy bear. ”
it's a form of indulgence , caleb is certain of it . . . to stay around heath for too long . something about the man pulls , reels and claws once too close . it's a traction too vibrant to ignore and so he doesn't - and stays . it's with a laugh breathless enough to simply melt into the lively energy of the night and a nod that transports the means of accepting the offer . “ alright , i'll bite . impress me " timbre barely concealing the daring lilt to it - a rare sight to behold , a rare sight he'll perhaps later deny caving into .
time: 7:00 pm
where: the ring toss booth
open: anyone ( 5 spots )
she leans against the counter of the ring toss booth , a cherry-red lollipop tucked between her lips . the fair lights flicker over her face -- orange , white , orange -- like they can’t decide what version of her to show first . pulling the candy free , the tip clicking against her teeth , she looks up through her lashes . “you waiting for someone ?” she asks , tone easy , teasing like she’s just making conversation . but there’s something else in it , something quieter , like she already knows what it feels like to wait for someone who isn’t coming . twirling the lollipop by its stick , a slow little circle in the air , she waits for an answer .
he moves amongst the crowd in a placid kind of certainty - it's calm , ingrained within every fibre of his being . a credence that's well studied rather than inherited by default and a habit that long bled from profession into his every step . caleb draws a breath , considering the words designed to fit the occassion . “ philosophical , but no ” idling implications issue a smile that comes easy , sits benelovent and kind on his face . there is no urgency within his features as curiousity perfectly carves into the manners at hand . “ though it seems you are expecting someone . i don't mean to occupy your time any longer , if that's the case . ”
// ( apo nattawin . cis man . he/him ) . ⸻ caleb pitak, a thirty-one year old, has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for his whole life. the paladin is known for being dependable and obscure and is often associated with cracks scattered across pristine porcelain, fingers crossed beneath the prayer, the lingering scent of a distant memory. in a small town where they work as a priest at redemption chapel, word travels fast. it’s hard to keep a secret, and it looks like the boogeyman knows that redacted.
name : caleb pitak nickname(s) : n/a age : thirty1 birthday : 14th of september zodiac : virgo gender & prns : cis man & he / him orientation : bisexual hometown : red creek height : 5'11 hair color : black eye color : dark brown body mods : none at all occupation : priest at redemption chapel .
━━ caleb pitak or . . . a mix of daughter by beyoncé & berghain by rosalía created this mess of starved devotion , ready to bleed for the course !
thirty1 , he/him , virgo , a son or a prophet – how long can he hold his breath before his death ?
also known as : nanami kento ( jujutsu kaisen ) , connor ( detroit become human ) , cho sangwoo ( squid game ) , zuko ( atla ) , nina sayers ( black swan )
⤷ fun facts & general vibe : the son of daniel pitak , beloved part of the red creek commnunity and one of the infamous priests before caleb . definitely forced into this occupation , i will be so real with ya'll - gotta keep the family's reputation up and all that jazz . a “ troubled ” kid back in his teenage years and everyone who knew caleb / his family before he became a priest , would rightfully be confused by the fact . the type to silently cuss under his breath and sometimes even be caught smoking behind the chapel after mass on sunday . otherwise very patient and devoted to his craftmanship alike the patrons clinging to his lips . a die hard ABBA fan ( catch him dancing along to voulez-vous in his spare time ) . big on 70s / 80s music , altogether . probably a rather well known face around red creek , if you like that . . . or not , i fear . very old fashion / vintage core in private - 80% of the time you'll see him wearing his typical robe , though ( workaholic ayee ) . left handed but trained to use the right hand . doodles while listening to patron's in the confessional booth , mostly what he thinks they look like or hints if he tries to guess who it is by voice and social clues . always at the front when it comes to charity work around town .