#normal:starter

[devilsward]

More dreadful than the encroaching heat of Summer was the the fact that the humble newspaper office had become a refuge shelter for a grab bag of kids all looking for answers no one had. Jamie didn’t know the first thing about manning a group of so many people after growing up with approximately zero friends and despite the exhilaration of finally having minions to push towards shady figures around Motel Hell, Jamie also knew a good amount of science that said eight bodies in one little room with no AC meant someone had to start paying to be there and make the wetness accumulating underneath his t-shirt worth the torture.

Jamie leaned back in his chair after turning the singular mini fan his way, sweat matting his coiffure to his cheeks and making him look like more drowned rat than leader. “I’m implementing a toll for being here after club hours,” he said, surveying the muddled faces in the room. “Food or get out.”

[hollys-eve]

Holly sits in the corner booth of Marie’s with a cup of black tea in her hands. Four sugars, two honeys, exactly the way she likes it. There’s even a little cup of maraschino cherries on the side courtesy of a waitress who sees her here too often. She’s just finished up a shift at All Ground Up. She smells like the coffee she’s been brewing and the entire bottle of vanilla syrup that got spilled on her apron, but at least it’s strong enough to keep her awake.

The dreams have been getting more frequent and even harder to understand. One minute she’ll be in the blissful emptiness of oblivion and the next she sees him running from something. It looms over head and makes her shiver so violent she wakes up screaming. She’s nearly stopped eating dinner just so it doesn’t all immediately go into the toilet upon her usual 3 am wakeup call. It’s like clock work now and sleep deprivation might honestly be her closest friend.

She pulls out her laptop and tries to piece together a few words but the screen is starting to blur and she’s got a headache that makes her about as useful as a one legged rock. Hopefully her parents are done with whatever weird ritual they’re planning for their weekly Sunday Seance soon.

[screamqvccn]

It occurred to Edwina that once upon a time, her biggest troubles in life were if Susan was going to let her stay up past her bedtime to watch the new Disney Channel Original Movie. What happened to those days? Now they were dealing with death and blood and drugs and possible demonic possession. What the fuck was that, that they saw anyway? Edwina wanted to just be watching Teen Beach Movie, but instead she was in the newspaper office with the only people she felt understood what she was feeling right about now. 

“It’s one thing to hear about all the fucked up things that happen here. . . To see it though?. . . We hurt Tommy and he’s still tied up. What are we going to do?” Edwina didn’t want to think about what they saw, but if she didn’t talk about it she thought she might go insane. “I can’t sleep. Can you?”

[marianaxdiaz]

She could see the husky football player eyeing her down the hall, occasionally speaking to a friend of his that she may or may not know in a very personal way. Sending the two boys a knowing smirk, she turned her attention back to her locker and began to grab the things she’d need for her next class. It was times like these, right before heading to physics class, she questioned why she was even still in school. She had power. And a part of her suspected immortality wasn’t totally out of the question as long as she made sure to feed, so why exactly had she not dropped out yet? Taking another quick peak at the huddle of boys, she reminded herself that was why. Walking these halls made every nerve ending ignite. Aside from the fact these boys just threw themselves at her, the way they looked at her was all it took for her to stand up straighter, and feel on top of the world.

Turning to check out her makeup in the small mirror hanging in her locker door, the blonde touched up the lipstick on outer corners of her lips, as that was the first place likely to smudge. Adding another quick layer of mascara, she deemed herself ready to go to her next class. Suddenly feeling a presence on the other side of her locker, and assuming it to be the football player, she spoke without even sparing them a glance. “It’s 20 bucks for the snapchat and if I find out you shared the pics with anyone else you can be damn sure I’ll do a lot more then block your ass.” She stated, closing her locker with a smile that said ‘I’m being 100% serious, don’t fuck with me.’ The smiled dropped when she came face to face with someone that wasn’t football player she had been making eyes at before. “Can I help you?”

[violet-matthews]

Now that they were actually drawing straws to figure out who would have to be in the next pageant, Violet was really feeling a moderate amount of regret. There were so many things that could have led to her avoiding the present situation, from being a voice of reason and shutting things down as best she could when they originally came up to just not joining the club in the first place. But she had persisted, not wanting to rock the boat and be exiled from her one shot at getting her father back. How unfortunate for her.

Glancing around as the girls of Murder Club grabbed a straw to determine their fate, Vi knew as soon as hers was in her hand that she was in trouble. There was no way a straw could possibly be shorter than hers, and that fact was soon confirmed.

How was she supposed to feel when she was proclaimed to essentially be the Miss Congeniality of the group? Proud? Excited? Because she wasn’t either of those things. Being able to potentially help get some answers to some town mysteries by being on the inside was intriguing, and she was eager to prove herself, but the fact that she had to stand up in front of a bunch of people and claim a spotlight that she’d been avoiding for her entire life? Not ideal. Plus, there was the fact that last time the pageant had to be put on hold because contestants seem to have permanently lost their voices. A major red flag when it came to extracurriculars.

Pausing before allowing herself to speak, Violet knew there were likely a thousand emotions flitting across her face before she finally spoke up. “I guess I need to figure out a talent then. Who’s going to convince my dad?”

[mutedbeautyqueen]

School wasn’t something Dolly Ann had ever liked. But she was popular and pretty so it had always been easy. Now she was just another mute pageant girl who might die in her bed any night. It was almost hard now. Especially when she was trying to get through the crowded hallways and couldn’t say anything to the mass of teenagers that were either oblivious to her now or worse gawking. She felt like one of those cows in the video one of the girls had shown trying to get them all to be vegans. Jostled around, probably getting bruises that would look gross in her bikini. Getting frustrated she ducked into the first unlocked door she found. She’d just wait out the crowd, touch up her lipstick or something. What she wasn’t expecting was someone already there. Pulling out her writing board had already become as much of a habit as checking instagram and she was scribbling before they could say anything. 

“Getting trampled. Need a break!!!”

Dolly Ann held up the board, hoping they weren’t going to be a jerk about her staying. 

[screamqvccn]

It wasn’t a secret that the odd little expansion of the newspaper club existed. However, Edwina still liked to think they still somewhat hid in the shadows at school. After all, it was easy to coop themselves up in the club office and hide behind the cherry wood door. What Edwina wasn’t expecting was marker vandalizing the frosted window.

“F R E A K S” She was upset at the attack, but what pissed her off even more what that their handwriting was so crisp. Assholes didn’t deserve good penmanship.

“Son of a. . .” she mumbled, turning her head to a fellow ‘FREAK’ that seemed to arrive to the office the same time as her. Even with the addition of some more relatively normal people to the ragtag group, some things never changed — like bullies. “Hey, it’s not true. . .” It was. There were kind of freaks. “Maybe. . . they meant it for the Furry Alliance down the hall.”

[hollys-eve]

The news of Darleen’s grizzly murder had reached nearly everyone in town. Holly had taken a detour to school that day, pulling through a few too many back streets so she could take a look at the cops packed in the cul-de-sac. She wondered if it would be too forward and callous to go up and ask for an interview, but before she could slams the doors shut on her clunky minivan, the alarm on her phone went off with the words SCHOOL TIME vibrating. Frustrated, she drove towards Normal Secondary as fast as her car could take her (which, frankly, wasn’t very).

Holly skipped out on third period so she could go to the newspaper room for a head start before lunch. She needed to get to the murder board before Jamie started pinning pictures of the Loch Ness Monster on everything or blaming Houdini’s ghost for an invisible B&E. 

Would Violet have any information from her father? She certainly hoped so. Maybe a nice Normal investigation would bring a little grounding into their currently fucked up reality. Holly pulled out her laptop and quickly began scanning the twitter threads that had already begun accumulating.

#RIPDarleenTheBeautyQueen was already trending. As well as a few less than savory plays on words from the more callous and uncouth members of Normal. There were a few blurry photos of the house, the cops, and the clothes she’d been wearing completely soaked in blood. Everyone had suddenly become an arm chair detective overnight and every social media page was flooded with hack conspiracy theories.

She wondered who the suspect list might be; what kind of people would be on it. Holly snorted, wondering if she’d be one of the people tacked on there after a purposeful volleyball attack when Darleen couldn’t keep her stupid mouth closed. There was only so much of that nasally voice you could take and the trademark Holly Patience had kicked in halfway through her usual garbage spewing.

The coffee was already brewing and she’d shot back a five-hour energy (or two, or three, because hey who didn’t want FIFTEEN hours of energy instead of five?) when she heard the club door open.