smalltownoutcasts; multi-muse blog written by sunny.
{ 30+ | she/her | cst } this is an independent, private, highly selective, plot-driven, & low activity blog.
“Wow, shit, Misty. Talk about doom-mongering,” Elle muttered, spitting out a chuckle. “You’re not going to be eaten by a bear. We can always just trip up someone else and run,” she said with a shrug. Obviously she was joking, but she knew some people didn’t appreciate her gallows humour. “I’m not a doctor, either. I’m a wannabe paramedic at best. I mean, I have seen some grizzly shit in that year I’ve been in that program. There was this guy who got his hand caught in some machine and it got all squished. Looked like Coach Scott’s leg.” Might have been why Elle had been the least phased by it. She was rather certain that someone her age shouldn’t really have been exposed to this, but medicine rarely dealt with pleasantries. Who needed horror movies if she saw that shit every weekend?
“I don’t give a fuck about being some sort of hero. If you want that spot, please. I’ll help you.” Elle knew that Misty Quigley wasn’t exactly the most popular girl at school. While Elle herself had zero friends, either, she liked it that way. People left her alone, especially after beating up that Becky Whatshername. She had observed Misty today, watching how she was thriving under everyone’s attention. Who was she to steal the limelight she didn’t want anyway?
“I’d say I got a grade two wrist sprain, which can take up to twelve weeks to heal, so you’ll be in charge of this for a while longer. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Elle would get over herself and give Misty a hug in this situation, but hugs with only one arm sucked, and she didn’t want to move. Instead, to show some support, she rested her head on Misty’s shoulder. She knew that this was like feeding a stray cat that was going to follow her around for the rest of its life now, but she didn’t like the other girls awfully much. Misty Quigley was easier to stomach.
"Hey, it's hard being cheery 24/7. Besides, I'm a lot darker then you think. But why give people yet another reason to make fun of me." She sighed, before twisting the cap back off the water bottle comfortable with the idea of taking another drink knowing how easy it would be to off one of the other girls if it involved wild animals, "Guess since we're tripping people in front of bears now, I'll have another sip..." She looked to Elle with a smug, but sad grin, before downing a little more of the coveted liquid.
Hearing her new friend's tale about a smooshed hand had intrigued Misty, and seemed to further her interest in the macabre. Maybe a career in healthcare would be in her future, if they ever made it out of the middle of nowhere alive, of course, "So tell me more about this paramedic stuff. Can anybody do it?" Elle was easily taking her mind off of the troubles that had seemed to plague her not five minutes earlier. It was strange having someone who actually took interest in her, not for the skills she offered the group, but because they genuinely wanted to talk to her.
"Here. Now you drink. The more dehydrated you are, the longer it's going to take your body to heal that grade two wrist sprain." Misty handed the bottle over, but was taken by surprise by her fellow classmate resting her head on Misty's shoulder. Yet she kind of liked it...That was a lie. She liked it a lot. So much so that a genuine grin had replaced the former sad smile, "No one's ever hugged me like that before..." She looked down feeling her glasses slip again, "Thank you..." Misty didn't know what else to say, but she enjoyed the bond that she was already forming with Elle.
THAT NIGHT HAD BEEN A CONSTANT NIGHTMARE FOR HER— as if she needed to add another traumatic event to the never-ending list of tragedies that's fucked up her life, far too many near death experiences and yet, that one was the most ironic. Because it was the closest she'd ever been, but what surprised her the most was that there was no anger; just fear. A fear that stemmed on the fact that she had been all too willing to go along with the entire charade, her mind suddenly put back into a place where she never wanted to be again. Even now, she thinks back on it like a conundrum, not quite understanding how it all started or why they allowed it to happen in the first place.
Natalie was so focused on her own recovery process that she became blinded by Lottie's influences, but it wasn't entirely on Lottie — she was just the only one willing to admit what was right there in front of them and they were all foolish enough to play along, as if it were a game. But it wasn't a game and it had gone too far. Maybe there had been a part of herself that wanted to pull the Queen card again, to be hunted down. A fitting ending, or so she thought. Everything happened so fast, even she was still a bit hazy in the memory of it all, forgetting bits and pieces here and there that were only slowly coming back to her.
She'd been in seclusion ever since, locked up in the same blasted motel room, never answering the door or even a phone call which was probably the wrong way to go about it. In truth, she's surprised Misty hadn't busted her way in somehow, just to make sure that Nat was still conscious. So, when she hears the constant knocking that wakes her up at whatever hour it was, she groans heavily and decides now's the time to tell whoever it is to just fuck off. Body rolls onto her side with legs practically flinging, stubbornly, over the edge of the bed. Hand brushing over her face and then running through stringy strands of dark hair before finally lifting herself up with some force, stumbling her way to the door and unhooking the latch.
When she does crack it open, she's honestly surprised to see Callie standing on the other side, eyes squinting in such a way that she has to make sure she's actually seeing the right person in front of her. ❝ Callie? ❞ Her voice is still groggy and a little cracked, not having spoken to anyone in weeks and it takes a moment for her to actually see the look of fear — and blood — on the girl's face. A look of horror slowly creeping upon her own expression as realization suddenly hits her. ❝ What the fuck happened to you?! ❞
CALLIE COULDN'T SPEAK. As much as she tried to force out any kind of words out, she just couldn't. Instead a squeak was released followed by the heavy breathing signaling an oncoming panic attack. Her face was distorted into something horrified. Nothing her mother or father had done was half as bad as what she had just come to realize.
She slowly raised her hands, that were violently shaking and blood stained, trying to explain to Natalie that she had just killed a man. It was the best she could do. Her eyes darting from shaking limbs back up to Nat - meeting the woman in the eyes, but quickly darting hers off to the side when she heard the sounds of a man and woman stumbling into the door of a nearby room trying to get inside.
All she had known in that moment was that she was a murderer.
Callie Sadecki, who once had judged her parents, especially her mother so harshly, could no longer look at her mom and dad with any kind of disappointment.
Oh God. Her parents. She couldn't tell them. She couldn't tell anybody. Why was she dragging Natalie into this? Maybe leaving...going on the run was her best option. But she needed clothes. She needed a bath. She needed sleep. Her body was so worn down from a devilish deed she couldn't even remember doing, but if she wanted any of that she was going to have to open up to someone, and that someone was right in front of her groggy and horrified by the sight standing in her doorway in the dead of night.
Slowing her breathing as best she could, Callie forced out a hoarse whisper with bated breath, "I...I think I killed somebody..." blue eyes back on Natalie as hot tears continued to silently wash away the homeless man's blood from her face.
EVER SINCE THE NIGHT IN THE WOODS and witnessing just a tiny taste of what Shauna had went through after the plane crash, something inside the teenage girl had felt...off. It was as if a part of herself had been left in the forest that night, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe it had been where she had fired Shauna's gun striking Lottie or witnessing Misty almost kill the one person Callie had become familiar with after their run in at the bar. Whatever it was, it had failed to leave her alone.
It had been weeks, at least a month or longer. But waking up in a cold sweat for most nights had started to leave Callie exhausted to the point that everything seemed to be running together. But one thing had been certain, her cravings for meat had oddly increased. All the former beliefs she had held didn't seem to matter. A once moody teen concerned about the environment and who was dating who seemed to only care for satiating the strange needs her body longed for. Even Callie knew this wasn't "normal" teen behavior, but she had felt so alone in her confusion and like before, had started to pull away from Shauna and Jeff once more.
Eyes popping open in the dead of night, the sixteen year old couldn't take it anymore. Chest heaving up and down and eyes a darker color than the striking blue ones her parents had given her, Callie climbed out of the bed dressed only in a vintage Backstreet Boys concert t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Finding her way downstairs to the kitchen in a haze, she walked out the back door feet bare and the cool night air sending unnoticed chills down her small figure.
Callie had been walking miles, feet bloody and raw, before she had found herself staring blankly at a homeless man sitting near a fire. The only thing noticeable about her shadow had been the gleam of one of Shauna's knives from the butcher block that sat on the kitchen counter.
"Who's there?" His voice was gruff as he peered out into the night trying to make out who was slowly approaching him.
Hollow eyes and no emotion whatsoever, Callie approached him stepping over rocks and broken glass to get to him.
"The wilderness thanks you for your contribution." Her voice was monotone.
"What? What the fuck are you on, little girl? You better turn around and go back to where you came from. Or you waitin' for the big bad wolf to get you..." A sneer came across his cracked lips, yellow and rotted teeth showing.
Now standing and towering over her, he moved in closer, but before he could try anything, Callie lunged hard and fast stabbing him in the neck repeatedly watching him hit the ground like a tree in the middle of a dense forest. No one else around, but nature.
Resting on top of him, the possessed girl continually stabbed and carved until he was unrecognizable letting out a primal scream when she was finally satisfied with her kill. Covered in blood, Callie dropped the knife, before waking up to find what she had done.
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She had recognized the area just enough to find her way to an unexpected doorstep...Natalie's. Covering up murders had definitely been her mom's thing, but considering Callie was pretty sure she had just made a mess of her own with a man she had prayed she had never crossed paths with in her life, she didn't know who else to turn to. What was living inside her? What had the woods unleashed that night?
Banging on the door as hard as she could, a mixture of his blood and her blood marking the white paint, tears moved steadily down her flushed, crimson stained face. Open the door! Please, please, please, please... She couldn't breathe and it felt like the world was closing in on her. Sunrise was just a few hours away, and Callie was on the verge of a breakdown.
Soccer had always been her main focus in life. Zoey was going to go pro. It was inevitable. But she was a teenager, and just like all teenagers, she was crushing hard on the boy that lived just a few doors down...Billy Loomis.
Like the giddy teenager she had secretly become sharing her deepest, darkest secrets with her baby sister, Izzie, Billy was just one of the highlights of the moment. And, of course, sneaking out to see him wasn't something her parents needed to know. She already worked her ass off to focus on a curriculum that was no more challenging than a raccoon digging through garbage. What was having a secret boyfriend going to do? Izzie was never going to tell. She was just a baby.
Slipping through her small bedroom window in the trailer she resided in, Zoey, hit the ground with a thud, before scurrying off into the darkness and towards the end of the short gravel road, "Billy...Billy are you out here?" It was hard to see, and she had forgotten her flashlight, "I can't see anything. Say something."
It was an ongoing rivalry. Heather Sadecki vs Randy Walsh. A battle for the ages. And it was all because he had ripped the head off of her favorite stuffed dog when she was 12. A sight that still haunted her 13 years later. Mr. Barkels' stuffing falling out of a headless body. She screamed a shrill scream for nearly ten minutes, before giving her brother's best friend a death stare that she still gave him to this very day. For as long as she was breathing air, she was going to make his life a living hell.
The water balloon filled with blue food coloring was held loosely between her fingers waiting for her target to step out of his motel room. Eyes were narrowed and focused on the door. What would his dancers think when he walked into work looking like smurf? Luckily for her, she had a friend on the inside who would be ready to snap a picture and send it to her.
Seeing the door open, Heather eased closer ready to aim and fire when the time was right.
EYES STARED AT THE SHOT GLASS IN FRONT OF HER for nearly half an hour, fingers curled around it as she contemplated her next course of action. Lips pulled in as head tilted slightly. There was always a difference on what she should do and what she wanted to do, but that amber liquid provided little to no help in the long run. It merely made her numb for a short while before she was right back to where she didn't want to be. Just a temporary release.
Still, she picked up the glass, propping an elbow onto the bar top as eyes soon stared forward. The mirror behind the bar stared directly in front of her, displaying the reflection of Natalie as she glared at herself. Another hesitating moment of pause, taking in the scent of alcohol into her nostrils and being blatantly reminded of everything that haunted her very existence. Eyes shifted away from her reflection for a second at the newly arrived patron who ordered two shots of Fireball.
That shit was gross, she thought, but who was she to be judgmental in that instant? A quick few seconds and she soon did a double take on the younger girl, brows furrowing as gaze squinted before she's turning her head to look at the other. She recognized her; saw the family photos displayed all around Shauna's home.
Placing her own shot glass back down with a bit of force and sliding it away from her before she suddenly turns in her seat, letting her arm fall as she leaned against the bar top to properly scowl at Callie. With a cat-like grace, she slid herself off the stool and slowly made her way to the other side of the bar before placing a hand against the edge of it next to the underaged young woman with a bit of a knowing smirk. Head tilted almost fully towards a single shoulder, ❝ the fuck are you doing here, Callie? Couldn't even order a proper whiskey at least? ❞
CALLIE'S EYES HAD AIMLESSLY SCANNED THE ROOM barely noticing Natalie. Though upon first glance, she did seem familiar, but not enough to spark fear in the heart of the sixteen year old currently sitting in a bar ordering alcohol. She was just another face in the crowd...well, if the crowd was an older, pot-bellied man passed out in a booth in the corner and the Joan Jett wannabe who was now walking over to her and...wait, what?
Brows furrowing as she laid her phone face down in case Jay popped back up on the screen, Callie forced back the small lump that was forming in her throat, "Uh...can I help you...and how do you know my name?" Nowhere in her still developing sixteen year old brain did she put two and two together that this was one of her mom's oldest friends, "Besides straight whiskey's gross. It's for drinking when depression is your best friend..." A smug, defensive smirk spread across her face, "Now, if you'll excuse me, Joan. I'm waiting on somebody."
Callie picked her phone back up and sighed when there was still no text from Jay. All she had wanted was to get this over with, which was impossible with some rando woman crowding her space at the bar.
lack of interaction ≠ lack of interest. sometimes, life gets in the way, or my muse doesn't cooperate with me the way i want, or i'm simply too anxious to take the first step. but just because we currently don't have any interactions going, doesn't mean that i'm not interested in writing with you and your muse(s). maybe the perfect opportunity hasn't presented itself yet, or i couldn't think of a good enough plot but that never ever has anything to do with you. after all, we're mutuals for a reason and that's usually because i enjoy seeing you on my dash and would love to write with you ― whenever that may happen.
The moment he laughed, he knew he was fucked. He knew Callie had him right where she wanted him and he hated it. Hated how devious she could be at times and he really did question if all teenagers were like this. Or if they had just got lucky with their own kid. Regardless, he was now caught and there was no back peddling as that would only cause further problems and they didn't need anymore on their plate. So he stood his ground ( attempted to at least ) as he awaited the teenage fury that she had already demonstrated with him and Shauna more than once.
However it was the weak comment that had his brows pinching together and lips pressing into a thin line. "You don't know the full story, Callie," he stated firmly, head shaking as he held a hand up, not exactly pointing at her, but the indication of tread lightly was there. He had to remind himself that he was the parent that she was his child first and foremost. "Callie...Cals? Talk to me, okay? 'Cause clearly something has you upset, but yes. I have forgiven your mother. Just like that." There was no sense in arguing about their family being normal because they weren't and he knew it. Callie didn't know the half of it though.
She knew she had overstepped her boundaries when she saw Jeff throw up his hand and the expression on his face change. But she was hurting. She hated being left in the dark with something so big affecting their family. The relationship she had with Shauna had always been a rocky one leaving the thought that she was never truly wanted lingering somewhere in the back of her mind. Whether or not it was true, she wasn't for sure, "I just don't understand how mom cheating on you could be let go so easily. It's like you guys are hiding something from me. I mean...be honest dad, did you guys even want really want me, or was I just some happy accident?"
Callie had felt so broken in the moment, but it seemed easier to talk to Jeff about things than it had talking to Shauna, at least when she managed to stop playing the brooding, smartass teenager role.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ !! ⸺ this is a yellowjackets roleplay masterlist. a curation of the active muses within the yj fandom. if you'd like to be added to this list, just reblog this post ; you must include in the tags: which muse(s) you write, along with whether your blog is single or multi-muse (if your muse is an original character, please state that too). this list is for canon muses, and yj based original characters only.
to everyone i owe starters and replies to, i'm going to try and play catch up this week. i've just been dealing with some life stuff and was avoiding the dash as well because i had fallen behind on yj.
Ever since Callie had come across the piece of Adam Martin's drivers license in her dad's grill, she couldn't help but wonder what her parents had truly been up to. She had assumed what the man's fate was, but didn't have any clear answers. All she knew is that her parents, especially her mother, had been somehow involved, and what did her generation know how to do best? Turn to the internet.
It was like falling down a rabbit hole. Well, if you had been a murdered rabbit and your furry little corpse was lying at the bottom of the hole waiting to be found by the right nosey-ass teen snooping to find out just what had happened. Luckily for Adam, she was that teen, and after several hours of digging and 3 cans of Ghost Sour Patch Kids Blue Raspberry, Callie managed to come across just what she needed...some random old guy who liked solving mysteries in his spare time on Forritt, who probably lived in his mother's basement or on a house boat.
Flash forward to today, and Callie sat waiting in a booth by a window in the back of the town's local diner. At least meeting in a public place meant this creep couldn't try and murder her, if he turned out to be a fraud and some old perv.
