INTRODUCING…
name: rowan holloway
faceclaim: quintessa swindell
age: 27
gender & pronouns: non-binary & they/them
occupation: clerk at vision video, server/cashier at midnights diner
DIG DEEPER…
THEN: they were a bastion of self expression, determined to break a mold and pave their own way. authenticity was as natural as breathing.
they grew up in bellworth where everyone knows everyone else—or at least thought they did. their home was modest, raised by a single parent who juggled multiple jobs and long hours, leaving them to figure out much of life on their own. the parent was loving when they could be, but often absent, and that absence taught them early that independence wasn’t just a choice—it was necessary.
they were raised mostly by their grandparents, who owned and operated the town’s midnight’s diner, mornings smelled of coffee and sizzling bacon, and afternoons were spent helping wipe tables, refill sugar containers, and listen to the endless parade of townspeople and travelers who passed through. the diner was a kind of training ground for life: they learned responsibility, patience, and how to read people before a word was even spoken. their parent was mostly absent, and the other worked long hours and sometimes got into trouble, so the grandparents became the steady presence in their life, shaping their sense of home and independence.
even as a child, they were headstrong, stubborn in ways both frustrating and endearing. they tested limits, climbed too-high trees, stayed out too late exploring the woods behind the houses, and never let anyone tell them who they had to be. curiosity and courage came naturally, but so did moments of shyness—they watched and learned before stepping fully into the world.
from a young age, they sensed that the world’s boxes didn’t quite fit them. as they grew, they began to understand that they were nonbinary, navigating a sense of self that felt authentic even if the town around them didn’t have the language to name it. they expressed it quietly at first—through the clothes they chose, the way they wore their hair, the pronouns they claimed for themselves—but each act of authenticity was a small declaration: they belonged to themselves first.
the town saw them as unconventional, observant, always looking for beauty or meaning in small, overlooked things. they collected little treasures, sketched on scraps of paper, and experimented with words and ideas, building a private world that felt theirs alone. even with the quiet and the constraints around them, they carried a spark—a restless, bright energy that hinted they were destined for discovery, for pushing boundaries, and eventually, for a life that would ask them to confront both who they were and who they might become.
NOW: there’s a deep seeded fear that they’ve grown into what they fought against. despite a keen sense of discovery, they can’t help but feel lost.
they’ve grown into someone both familiar and strange to themselves. the spark of curiosity and boldness from their childhood is still there, but it’s tempered by a deep-seated fear: that in navigating the world, they’ve become something they once resisted. they move through the town carefully, eyes always scanning, noticing what others overlook—lost keys on a bench, a forgotten scarf on a fencepost, the subtle tension in someone’s voice. their gift makes them a quiet authority on small mysteries, and people often come to them when things go missing.
teddy has always been their partner in mischief and closest friend. when teddy disappeared, it nearly broke them—the world felt emptier, smaller, lonelier without the one person who matched their curiosity, daring, and sense of adventure. teddy had always encouraged them to be themselves, to let the person who had been bubbling under the surface shine, and being apart only highlighted how much that spark mattered. finding teddy again in the woods was both relief and revelation: a reminder of who they were, who they could be, and the courage that had always lived just beneath their skin. together, they navigate life like co-conspirators, pushing each other into adventures that feel dangerous, thrilling, and alive.
they split their time between the video store and helping out at the diner, supporting their aging grandma while both grandparents continue to run the place. mornings might be spent behind the counter, refilling sugar containers, wiping tables, or chatting with regulars, while afternoons are lost among videos records, rediscovering movies that others thought gone. the balance of responsibilities keeps them grounded, but also highlights the chaos inherent in their life: misplaced items, fleeting moments of self-doubt, and the constant dance of discovery that defines them.
they used to be endlessly warm, kind, and generous with their attention, radiating a sense of calm curiosity that drew people in. now, however, those qualities feel like a flicker, shadowed by anxiety and self-doubt. they’re still capable of connection, but it’s often tentative, measured, as if they’re testing the world to see if it’s safe before fully letting themselves shine. the person who once moved through life with fearless openness now navigates it like a quiet observer, careful, hesitant, but still carrying that spark just beneath the surface.
THE GIFT OF WHAT WAS LOST...
ACTIVE: lost objects seem to reveal themselves. they notice misplaced items quickly. they stumble across things others missed.
INACTIVE: they constantly misplace their own belongings. they struggle to find things even when they’re nearby.
TIE TO THE INCIDENT...
teddy bellworth / partner in crime. they may not have been the most obvious pair, but the two balanced each other incredibly well. most would have assumed they were like oil and water, when in reality, they seemed to speak the same language, trusting that wherever one led, the other would follow. this included venturing into fort hemlock, despite teddy's hesitance in being involved at all. they felt a deep responsibility for their friend's disappearance, racked with a deep shame for having pushed her to go to the base with the group. that shame morphed into something far worse the moment they found themselves face to face with their best friend a year later, wandering the woods with no memory of what happened to her.
CONNECTIONS...
heart of glass / on/off fling, trauma bonded. it’s difficult not to find comfort in one another when they’re the only person who understands you. it went beyond just the incident and the horrors they saw that night—it was also through the terrible comprehension of what it was like to lose the most important person in your life: teddy. it was comforting, having someone they never had to explain any aspect of their struggle to; they just had an innate knowledge, far too familiar with the same struggle. as the years passed on, they found themselves in more than just each other's thoughts, but also falling into one another's bed on and off, heartfelt conversations turning into pillow talk rather than just late night phone calls.
should i stay or should i go / drinking buddy. they aren't that close emotionally, that's the whole point of their relationship. there's no feelings, no trauma, no lingering on the past and what they've been through. no, when these two get together, it's all about who is paying for the next round of drinks. they're the kind of person the other calls when they're in need of a few beers and a few questionable decisions, when they'd rather just drink about it than face their emotions head on. are the methods worrisome? yes, depending on the weekend. their antics have led to spending nights in a holding cell, or pulling the other away from a fight. either way, they keep each other on standby when it comes to a night out.
sweet dreams / childhood friend gone sour. as children, the two got along well— it was inevitable, considering their mothers are best friends. life had been simpler when they were in elementary school, only worried about scraped knees at recess and riding bikes after school. eventually, like so many childhood connections, they grew apart; without a catalyst or negative turn, just a difference in interests and social circles. they come together again with the incident, picking back up where they left off until teddy disappeared and kenneth died. what followed after were years of bitterness, both finding it easier to pin the pain and heartache on something familiar; easier to let the frustrations boil over with someone who understands than to dig deep and look at what’s really going on.
tainted love / longtime friend. they grew up close. back then, the future felt wide open, full of certainty about the people they were determined to be and the lives they were sure they’d lead. in the years since the incident, though, that certainty has slowly faded. time and experience have reshaped them in ways neither of them expected, leaving behind a quiet sense that they’ve both drifted from the versions of themselves they once believed in. even so, the bond between them hasn’t disappeared. it lingers in shared memories, familiar conversations, and an unspoken understanding; a connection rooted in who they used to be, even as they’re both still trying to figure out who they are now.
