#forks.starter

[teetheds]

what.    event one,    the bonfire.    time.    8:00 pm.    location.    nestled deeply into conversation around the fire,    warm smiles    —    and cold looks    —    and laughter throughout.

bodhi doesn’t lie.    not really.    he just…    tucks the truth away when it feels like too much light.    but if anyone ever asked him his favorite place in the world    —    la push,    just as the tide starts to turn,    might earn the quiet answer.    he’s there now,    shoes dug into cool sand,    curls falling into his eyes,    sweatshirt hanging off his frame like it's one size too big.    a lazy smile curls at his mouth as he half-sips a beer gone warm,    already scoping out what food to devour next.    the presence beside him isn’t ignored    (they never are    —    not with him),    and still,    he plays it cool,    like he can’t already feel something shifting.    he turns slow,    only free hand full of graham crackers and chocolate,    the other fumbling toward the bag of marshmallows,    fingers barely grazing the edge.    "please tell me you’re here to make s’mores,    because i physically do not have the hand capacity for this."    he says,    looking up as he speaks next,    his eyes connecting with theirs.    "and i’m gonna be eating,    like…    twelve of them,    so."

[celcstiall]

[ 9:45 P.M. // THE BONFIRE // LA PUSH BEACH ] ──　﹒　open to anyone　﹐　

small context: jin made it to town around 5-7 prior to the bonfire happening, so he doesn't really know anyone except pet owners who have taken their pets to the vet within the last week and met the new vet at the clinic ( him ) - other than that, he's got no real connections in forks, so feel free to go on vibes/assume whatever.

the bonfire's cheerful mood had disappeared, replaced with shouts and panicked energy. jin didn't join the chaos, though. he didn't care to, he simply stood by the fire, a calm spot in the middle of the storm, watching it all unfold. he found the whole display... telling. this was the real nature of things and the slight smirk on his lips was a testament to how content he was to watch the pretense of peace fall apart. he set his untouched cup down with a slow, deliberate motion before turning to the nearest frantic group, his voice steady and clear enough to cut through the noise. "hysteria won't find her," he stated simply. "is there any kind of organized plan, or is everyone just running around in the dark?"

[moonspull]

Open to all || 7:50 PM

it was strange being back in La Push. The bonfire reminding her of all the friends and family Marie once had. Before her parents' divorce, before the splinting factions, before she left. Here they all were--with vamps to boot. She could smell them all around. Everyone was here pretending, she supposed, even her. She didn't want to be here yet here she was at the first get together she could possibly manage. It's just temporary, she thought. I only want to listen to the stories. She nestled into a chair as far as she could from the others and as close to the beach as she could while still in earshot. However, in a place like La Push, you were only alone so long. She nodded at their entrance. "Good to see you. I'm Marie Pettie, if you don't remember."

[forslorn]

open to all forks residents. 1:30am local time.

perhaps  paulina  was  naive  to  think  forks  was  some  sort  of  utopia.  she'd  always  heard  that  small  towns  had  their  secrets,  but  nothing  about  this  place  signaled  anything  out  of  the  ordinary  —  at  least,  not  past  what's  already  conspired.  years  of  earth-dwelling  should've  thickened  her  skin,  and  did,  in  some  aspects,  but  this  was  something  pau  couldn't  shake,  not  right  now.  “  she's  probably  so  cold.  ”  she  muttered  to  herself,  eyes  fixed  towards  the  ground,  mindless  babbling  as  shoes  crunch  against  loose  gravel,  resonating  against  the  emptiness  of  the  town  center.  if  only  someone  could  see  the  way  paulina's  features  coarsened  the  moment  her  eyes  met  with  the  other's  obscured  silhouette.  “  i  haven't  done  anything  wrong,  ”  voice  shattering  the  silence,  always  on  self-defense.  “  i'm  just  out  for  a  walk  —  need'a  clear  my  head.  ”

[ofgloaming]

who: open where: edge of the treeline, 11:48 pm

They said the girl had only been gone a few hours when the search started. Salem knew better. A few hours was enough. It had been enough for her sister, and that was years ago. The forest pressed in close, the kind of dark that swallowed whole the thin beams of flashlight. Search parties called out the girl’s name in fractured chorus, their voices catching in the fog, scattering like startled birds. Salem kept moving.

She told herself she was here because every extra pair of eyes mattered. Truth was, she couldn’t stand being anywhere else. Sitting at home while another family’s clock ticked down? No. She’d done that once, and it had carved something out of her that never grew back. Her boots sank into the soft earth as she scanned between the trees, not just looking but listening. Every crack of a branch, every shuffle in the underbrush got filed away. Half the people out here were already starting to fade, their calls for the missing girl getting softer, less certain.

Salem’s flashlight caught on a patch of disturbed ground, and she crouched low, fingers brushing damp leaves aside. Probably nothing. Ninety percent of things were probably nothing. But it only took one. She just felt helpless in the fact that she wasn't sure her instincts would be able to tell whether it was something or nothing.

She straightened, exhaling through her teeth, and glanced toward the nearest silhouette moving between the trees. “Anything?” she asked, her voice low, the word more grit than sound. "Great, Let’s add her to the list of people this town just ‘loses’ for no reason.” she muttered, more to herself than to anyone, when she didn't get an immediate response.

[fngsbared]

👤   who:  open to anyone. 📍  where:   by the firepit. ⌛   time:  8:15 pm.

there   was   something   about   the   old   stories   that   made   nicasio   feel settled;   a   sense   of   belonging   that   was   engraved   into   his   bones   like   a   crooning   love   song…   if   he   ignored   the   scent   of   the   vampires   nearby—   he held   his   breath   and   focused   on   the   warmth   of   the   fire,   the   hush   of   waves;   he   could   almost   pretend   he   still   felt   that   way.   almost.   but   almost   wasn’t   that   feeling,   almost   was   a   shadow,   pale   and   aching,   hungry   for   something   that   may   never   come   to   be.   but,   almost   was   more   than   nothing   and   he’d   take   what   he   could   get.

getting   lost   in   the   stories,   it   wasn’t   until   he   heard   someone   settling   beside   him   that   he   returned   to   himself   and   realized   the   marshmallows   he’d   been   roasting   had   turned   to   nearly   complete   char.   “fuck”   he   pulled   it   out,   thought   about   it   for   maybe   five   seconds   before   popping   one   of   them   into   his   mouth   anyways.   “thanks   for   the   warnin'.”   he   spoke   through   his   chews with a half-smile,   “you   want   one?   if   it’s   still   gooey,   it's   good.” he loves marshmallows.

[forslorn]

open to all forks residents. 8:30pm local time.

he'd  opted  for  resignation  —  the  slow  moss,  moving  silently  amongst  the  sea  of  festivities.  it  wasn't  foreign  to  rafa,  making  an  appearance  only  to  remain  stuck  to  the  perimeter.  at  least  he  was  there,  nestled  under  his  windbreaker  as  crisp  wind  kissed  at  his  nose,  shoes  digging  into  the  toughened  sand.  the  night  was  still  early,  so  much  that  the  sun  and  moon  both  showed  up,  too.  it  was  mesmerizing,  he  nearly  missed  the  shuffling  of  sand  —  he  would've,  probably,  had  it  not  been  for  his  unusual  circumstances.  “  you  —  uh,  ”  he  laughs,  rather  sheepishly,  letting  down  his  hood  so  as  to  not  obscure  his  face,  “  no,  you  can  sit  there,  it's  okay.  " a few beats, allowing the silence to swell, until it inevitably pops. " almost a decade here 'n it's  still  weird  to  me  how  late  the  sun  sets  —  it  never  fully  sets,  like,  you  can  always  see  this  glow.  ”