#lanplot

[erikpowell-blog]

hello everyone! i’m grace and i’m super pumped to be writing with all of you talented individuals. please like this post if you’re interested in plotting with erik, or if any of the plots listed below strike your interest so that i can shoot you a message.

-big fan: erik is a local author, and has received some acclaim for his work. i would love to engage him with some characters who have read his work. he writes dark fairytales and other pieces of the horror genre, partially as a result of his troubled past. maybe your character is disturbed, or they could be intrigued. the possibilities are endless.

-westbook buds: erik has been in lanford for under a year, and has come here from brooklyn, ny for an escape. perhaps our characters are in a book club together and bond over their love for a shared book, or author. it’d be interesting to see your character geek out over literature with him, or even someone who has a negative reaction to a book in the shop - it’s up to you.

-coffee house: perhaps erik wanders into a coffee house to chill out and our characters spill coffee on each other. he’s a fairly introverted person, though maybe he could feel guilty enough to buy your character a replacement coffee and have a chat over it. 

-AA meeting: erik’s father is a longtime alcoholic, and the prospect of addiction is very frightening to him. let’s say he occasionally goes to meetings for preventative measures. our characters could have a bonding moment at a meeting, or talk over shared experiences.

-car troubles: maybe erik’s car poops out on the side of the road, and your character gives him a jump? maybe they have a collision on the way to work and it’s just one of those mornings, but an unlikely friendship comes from it. 

there are lots of future ideas swimming around in my head, and i’d love to hear yours! i’ll update this as we go, and potentially even make a plot page. thanks again!

[sierra-moore]

October was Sierra’s least favourite month thanks to the pranksters and pumpkins that lined the streets, least of all the horrible things kids did to terrify the elderly. She hated ghosts and horror films and everything associated with them, but a couple of beers down and going on a ghost tour didn’t seem like a bad idea. That was until she spotted a figure hiding in the dark outside the church, “Hey!” She screamed out in the direction of the person stood in a long cape just outside the graveyard, “Fuck you!—” Picking up a twig from the ground she attempted to throw it their direction, for it only to fall at her feet. “Fuck you, fuck, fuck, fuck you!” 

[peytonolds]

Peyton was aware that they should have stayed home that day, after having received the news from their father regarding their mother whom they hadn’t heard from in over five years. But they were hoping the market would serve as a distraction of sorts. This all clearly proved to be wrong when they were standing in front of some girl trying to tell them about her new goat milk and from one moment to the next, two of her cartons were splattered on the floor, the brunette realizing they’d accidentally knocked them with their purse. “Oh, god.” A sigh escaped their lips as they knelt down, trying to find some way to help. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” At that point, their nose turning pink, it was more than obvious they were no longer solely worrying about the spilled milk. “Fuck, I can ----- I’ll pay for these.”

[jackacoop]

“My son is coming home in about 28 hours, and I can’t even begin to fathom how unprepared I am. I haven’t cleaned my house in a week, the only thing in my fridge is ketchup and tabasco-- it’s a wreck. And here I am thinking getting fresh produce is going to change something. That or I am too good at wasting time.” 

[havana-ota-blog]

“Personally, the guava looks really good... though I kinda want the dragonfruit. But $5 each is pretty fuckin’ steep... why does this market try to having Trader Joe’s prices?”   

[nolangirl]

“   I can’t believe there are so many insects around here. Is there a stall selling bug spray, or is it all about vegetables and ugly handmade bracelets?”

[zoeyparker-prewitt]

“Non-fat, low carb, non-GMO, vegan, organic, gluten-free, non-alcoholic pumpkin beer? Even I can admit that sometimes science goes too far...” 

[sam-or-whatever]

Drunk, high, and already starting to feel hungover, the festival had come to an end at the least proper time; with all her friends AWOL, or, at least, out of her field of vision, Sam was left at the lakefront, perched on a stone in the middle of sloshy sand-mud; she was just lucky enough to have her umbrella with her, a ridiculously large object of clear latex, not obscuring anyone’s view of her. And that left Sam stranded, a purse, a blanket, and a coat tucked tightly under her arm. Hell would freeze over before she let any of them touch the ground. It was only a matter of time before her legs gave out.

“Fucking Christ...” she mumbled, looking around the area. People were scattering, stands were descending at a rapid pace, and not a single soul seemed to stare over at the water’s edge where she stood. There might as well have been a raid; she’d seen house parties dissipate more slowly when they got busted. The water, despite the torrential downpour, remained rather calm. Gentle waves, not a single white peak. The main disturbance was the debris; a plethora of beer bottles and Dixie plates, and...

Something far larger floated in the water, obscured in the darkness; at first glance, it wasn’t anything, just another mass in the water among the trash left behind. But nothing was there to distract from the outline of limbs, spread open, practically in the prime position for a crucifixion. Hair matted down, a helmet on the scalp, waves rolling over.  She stared in awe, her face falling from a grimace of annoyance as what little color was there faded to white. And against all better instincts, and everything she normally considered sacred, she ran.

The pier wasn’t that far away; a hop, skip and a jump from the rock she stood on, items still in tow, she found herself stomping over the wooden boards, rain finally creeping up under her massive shelter as she bolted to the end, dropping to her knees. She needed to know, that the sight wasn’t a crossfaded hallucination from the shit she’d done already too much of that night. Floating before her, bobbing up and down not four feet from the pier’s end, the body was very much real, and very much what it seemed.

And with every ounce of drunken energy in her, no idea if it was in fear, in shock, or merely to bring attention, she screamed.