#phqstarter

[behrooz-najm]

WHERE: outside of the police department @phqstarters

Bez sighed loudly as they walked out of the police station in their wide and a tiny bit cold civilian clothing. The chaos of the day had worn them out, they were tired and a slight bit annoyed. Maybe because nobody had wanted to listen to them about what could’ve happened. They had suggested some strange frequency that had disrupted the system, maybe something to do with the ghost sighting a few months back. It could be a whole lot of things, but their superiors had simply focussed on prank callers. That or someone really fucking up some code. They were looking for someone with coding skills, too much time on their hands, or a shit ton of money to buy enough phones. 

Bez was looking for ghosts. And that had led to hearing out people who had experienced the call all day long. 

They blinked as they walked, trying to push the dryness from their eyes. They saw someone staring and gave their most civil smile as they passed. “Sorry, I just finished, if you want to share your account of one of those phone calls, you have to go inside,” they said apologetically.

[bishan-chanda]

WHERE: Dutch’s @phqstarter

“Probably a prank,” Bishan said, when the calls were brought up. “A brilliant prank at that, truly, for someone to have that many phones to completely take down the system.” He scoffed then, while he had respect for it, he was also slightly annoyed that the prank had cost him business too. Calls that should’ve gone out had to be cancelled and he had missed some important meetings. He filled the glass to the brim and handed it across the bar. “Or it could be ghosts, but what ghost carries a phone?”

[rhyslovespopcorn]

WHERE: anywhere @phqstarter

“OMG OMG OMG, THERE ARE GHOSTS IN THE PHONES!” Rhys exclaimed, when he had heard a second account of the ghosts in the phones. 

He was certain it had to be ghosts, what else could it be. 

WHAT ELSE.

Of course, he hadn’t heard it himself.

And certainly he hadn’t been focussed enough to listen to the whole story.

He jumped at the first person to cross his path, keeping some distance as to not earn himself a smack on the head, but close enough to show he was talking just to them. 

“Have you spoken to any ghosts?”

[ajita-tannu]

WHERE: street in Pleasance @phqstarter

Ajita sighed loudly as she listened to their mother speak. Nobody needed actual phones in their house, because if their mom was good at one thing: it was collecting gossip. She walked around sprouting about twenty different theories, four of those with attributes from religious stories that Ajita recognised, five more about the ghosts of the town, two connected to George Alby - the ones she had been most invested in - and some others that were mostly ridiculous. 

They took the pace up a bit, their mom following while she talked with one of the aunties. Ajita simply tried to ignore the conversation, searching the street for any familiar face to offer them distraction. They locked eyes with one, then shot over the street and waved their mom goodbye. “Please save me from listening to more gossip,” they exclaimed in a hushed tone. “I would owe you one.”

[sheriffq]

Title: Fielding Calls Location: Police Department, a slow Sunday afternoon For: OPEN TO ANYONE ---

“No, Sir -- I’m not discreditin’ anythin’ that you’re sayin’ - I’m sayin’ that I’m not the telephone company an’ can’t help you out with what you’re talkin’ about. I don’t know if you’re gonna be charged or if the mix-up is gonna be considered long distance…” the line went dead, and Q set his phone back down into the receiver. With a tired groan, he sat back and pulled his hat down over his face, as though it would be enough to let him hide from the world. “Hell…” he grumbled, “I was hopin’ for a nice, relaxin’ October…”

It reminded him that he had yet to drive around town, but as soon as he sat back up, grabbed his keys, alerted Kane and Hogan … the phone rang again. If his eyes could melt the phone, the glare that he gave to the ringing herald of catastrophe would have been a pile of nothing. He counted to five, exhaled slowly and picked up the phone. “Sheriff Q’s desk --” he heard the tell-tale giggles on the other line and waited. your fridge is running! No, wait … is your fridge running? ‘Cause you should go catch it! the giggles continued, and Q rolled his eyes. “Clayton and Jason, I’ll be telling your daddy that you’ve been callin’ again tellin’ bad jokes -- what’d I tell you?” He reached out and set the phone on speaker. He was tired of holding it. The sounds of the boys’ long-suffering childish sighs could be heard. “You said that the number was only for emergencies BUT you said if we had a really good joke, we could call. And it was a good joke.”

Q shook his head, setting his cowboy hat off to the side. “It was a bad joke. You lost your joke privileges for the next week,” he said, prepared to hang up the phone as the boys whined. But then the louder of the two, Clayton, piped up one last time: Coach! why do seagulls fly over the ocean? -- Because if they flew over the bay, we'd call them bagels. Q snorted. “Bye Boys, do your homework or you won’t be able to play in the league game on Wednesday.” He hung up the phone before his snort became permission for them to keep trying jokes on him. Two years ago, he had been wrangled into coaching the little league team - Clayton and Jason were the more rambunctious of the two.

”All right you two,” he said to his dogs - let’s get out of here before we end up with another phone call or a cat stuck in the tree or somebody chasin’ after a plastic bag thinkin’ it’s a ghost an’ fallin’ into the lake.”

It was a slow Sunday afternoon in Pleasance, and Q was itching to get outside.

[wispykatsopolis]

location: somewhere public, probably a park status: open to everyone

“well, i’m sorry to lose your business ma’am, but i can’t cremate someone that’s still breathing. that’s not how it works. maybe call dr. kevorkian, but we don’t do that here,” whisper said before abruptly hanging up her phone. she hated getting calls and not being able to help people - but that was just... wrong. or maybe the caller was just dumb and didn’t understand, but that wasn’t whisper’s fault. “i swear people are idiots,” she grumbled.

[roarkecohen]

Open: Dutch’s Bar, earlier evening than is probably acceptable for drinking

Every time he came to this place, Roarke thought of his favorite bar back home. This place would never be that place, because nothing in this fucking town could be that seedy. This was the sort of place where people said friendly things to you, tried to know things about you. As it was, they tried to drink at home, but even Roarke couldn’t handle the intense isolation of being completely alone all the time. It felt like a trap, hating the perpetual loneliness of the life he lived yet despising the idea of anyone knowing anything about him, asking too many questions. It had been ages since he’d been laid, cautious of the talk that circulated in a small town and the danger of being outed.

Today, the loneliness had sunk in too hard and something about the house didn’t seem to want him. Walking into the place after work had felt difficult, as though something was trying to prevent him from staying. He’d learned to heed that feeling years ago and had turned right back around to go out for a drink. Dinner might have been a smarter idea, but he wasn’t up to it today. Normally a beer would suffice (maybe a couple beers), but tonight, Roarke had gone straight for top-shelf scotch. Hope to god no one bothered him.

[johndoesmith]

Open Starter

WHO: John Smith and anyone

WHAT: Starwars Costume Contest

Where: Town Hall Conference Hall

When: May 4th 2021

Why: John is a judge for the competition

How: John has never seen Starwars

John looked out at the crowd of people lining up to go on stage. He squinted his eyes at armored aliens wearing bright body paint of every color. Am I supposed to judge on merit or authenticity? John thought to himself. He was slightly frustrated, like a buzz from a very weak beer, that he had been “voluntold” into organizing the mayor’s pet project.

John walked over to a table covered in snacks and desserts brought by families and volunteers. He ate a cookie. He saw that there was another volunteer next to him. John turned and the mask asked, “I know how I got stuck with this gig, how did you get trapped here?”