// tl;dr, former academic enthusiast from a well-off family struggles to unite his two halves - the part that lashed out in anger and revenge and did something awful and the part that was supposed to be and do something great, and a whole that has stagnated, lost, ever since. a mun that is shirking college responsibilities and is available damn near all hours on all platforms.
&& — the basics.
this part is simple. ace is part of the fifteen’s graduating class, aspired to be the next oscar wilde or michael foucalt or amanpour, was that annoying guy smoking at parties going, “well, in kant...” that everyone assumed would be successful through pure spite and lack of sleep alone.
he assumed it too. one could say he even took it for granted.
akihiko (or ace, a nickname he earned because of his affinity for AP classes and ghost-writing lowerclassmen’s essays to perfection) attempted to pick a fight, drunk on liquor and adrenaline and anger, with jacob willington on senior night, which earned him the title he bears with heavy shoulders and spooked glances: culprit. guilty, sinner, criminal —
&& — the details.
he left island for college and tried his best to return as infrequently as possible. he tells his parents it’s because he’s busy. so busy, so successful. he hates the lie, but he can’t stand the feeling that the closer to home he gets, the more the graveyard presses in on him, suffocating.
he can’t believe there’s a wedding happening. he can’t believe he didn’t just send an expensive gift off the registry and stay home. for some godforsaken reason, he’s here, surrounded by everyone who knows him. knows him better than anyone else in the world. his nightmare.
he wants to hate the fifteen for having their lives together, for moving on when he couldn’t, but he’s never considered they could be pretending too.
&& — the connections.
i’d love for someone to have brought him, begged him, influenced him, to come to the wedding. (read: bride? groom? wedding party? being part of the wedding party?) having the other muses know some of his reluctance + having a strong bond right off the bat for him to show up for would be lovely.
i want ace to have had a crush on someone during their high school years, cowardly kept it to himself, and to still be projecting feelings onto said person. they can kept in touch over time, they can have returned the feelings - but nothing was ever done about it, not when it was easy, and now things are too, too complicated.
similarly possible, a hookup plot. these are the only people in the world he wouldn’t feel like he’s lying to or taking advantage of - they know his sins, and should they still make the conscious choice to want to fuck him? well, his craving for human contact and affection would go far deeper than any sense of rationality.
but, as all things must, a balance: who hates him the most? who skitters from him in a room, seeing the blood on his hands and fearing him for it? is it actually anyone, or is it his own paranoia manifesting? ...in the end, does it really even matter which?
and finally: the one who dragged him away. this can be anyone, and have any present relationship, but the one who decided they had to go, that jacob fell wrong, that not even ace’s own parents could save him. but did you know? did you know that to be true, in your heart of hearts, or did you want to spare ace the punishment, or did you simply let him take the mighty fall for what you felt was righteous justice?
hello hello! i’m knock ( she / her, 22, aedt ) and this is the groundskeeper! my disc*rd is at the end of the post, so feel free to add me through there. i am a poc, but i’m not black, so please hold me accountable for any insensitivities i make.
Eight years ago, Desmond was an incredibly hopeful, family man. He was in the last year of his Engineering masters, hoping to eventually graduate and get a job. He wanted to start earning enough, so he could take care of his father, Tyrone Castor, especially considering the work that Tyrone did around the hotel. Desmond was studying part-time, so he could still have enough time to help his father out. Born as an only child, losing his mother at an early age, he felt like he was responsible for being there for Tyrone. He wanted to focus on his future, so that it improved his father's life as well.
how , if at all , have they changed in those eight years ?
Eight years after, it feels like Desmond’s life has changed. Tyrone was severely injured during the hurricane, and Desmond dropped out of his master’s degree to become Tyrone’s primary caregiver, as well as take over the grounds keeping at Castor Hotel. It’s a family-run business, and the Castor family have always felt iffy about hiring anyone outside people they personally know to help out.
For years, Desmond took care of Tyrone, but eventually, the elder Castor lost his life and Desmond, at 26, had to start taking care of everything himself. Since then, he’s become more closed off, unable to properly handle or process his grief and guilt, believing himself to be the reason his father was injured in the first place.
He struggles with maintaining long-lasting connections, telling himself that it’s better if he doesn’t get close to people because they have a habit of leaving him behind. He’d rather dedicate himself to the hotel, immersing himself with his job to avoid ruminating on how lonely and stagnant his life truly feels.
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
Someone that came to his father’s (Tyrone), funeral. Ever since then, Desmond has considered this person to be sort of a friend, or at least someone that he can rely on / trust. It doesn’t come easily for him, but someone being there for him during a difficult time is something that he won’t forget. This is someone that he eventually considers to be, perhaps, his only friend, or acquaintance.
Childhood friends. Perhaps one of the 15. They were merely children, running around the island, youthful and carefree; chasing dreams of moving away from Sierra. After the night of the hurricane, both were forever changed, but this person moved beyond Sierra, while Desmond felt as if he was trapped here by responsibilities to his father and the hotel. After this friend comes back for the wedding, they both are unsure of where they stand with each other, and Desmond will hold them at arm’s length. (Maybe he’s jealous they were able to move away, while he couldn’t. Maybe he tried to contact them after his father’s passing and never got a reply, so he’s super bitter about that etc.)
People that stayed on the island that he knows from passing. While he doesn’t care much about making connections / long-lasting relationships, he will help people if they’re in need of work. If they need a job over the summer, he’ll take them in the hotel as a cleaner, janitor, bartender, doing things around the hotel, etc.
As they got closer to senior year, they started working at the Castor Hotel over school holidays. They got to know Desmond since he’s always there as well. Tyrone usually oversaw the younger workers, but Des and the others were usually just a bunch of kids messing around on hotel grounds, with Tyrone half-heartedly chastising them.
Within the eight years, Desmond offered a room to someone that needed it. If they weren’t able to pay for it, he let them work around the hotel in exchange for lodging. He’s slightly protective of them, and will keep tabs on them / want them to check in and say hi, even if they’ve moved on from this part of their life.
EXTRA HEADCANONS.
Castor Hotel came from Desmond’s mother’s side of the family, Ivery Castor, who passed away due to complications during childbirth. When Ivery and Tyrone married, they kept the Castor name. Desmond’s father inherited the Hotel, and eventually passed it to Desmond in his will.
If anyone ever comes looking for his guest, he’ll demand a warrant before he gives over any information. Once he’s sure the people are gone, he’ll ask his guest about their situation and if they need anything. He’ll never force them to talk if they don’t want to, but he lets them know that he’s there to help.
He’ll rent out rooms for cheap if he notices someone running from a bad situation / needs a place to stay. If they can’t pay, he’ll get them to work on the hotel grounds in exchange for the room.
ooc: hi pals! my name is megan, i use she/her pronouns and live in est, and i’m playing robyn. for disclosure purposes i am white.
anyway here are some of the basics for robyn!!
skeleton: the alibi
name: robyn srinivas
age: twenty six
gender: cis woman
occupation: online psychic medium
see below for most of the answers to the app & wanted connections
wanted connections: a cousin in the 15 (geraldine is tamil indian & white, so cousins must be either at least half tamil or half white), a role model from the 15 who does not give a shit about her even though they might pretend to (or might not tbh), a crush or someone who had a crush on her during high school
what was your character like eight years ago?
Robyn has always been bitter.
She’s an only child in a large family; literally she’s the only only child of all of her cousins. Her parents figured she was enough trouble to deal with, why add in more? Despite being surrounded by people she’s always felt lonely. Hell, constantly having people around may have been part of the reason she felt so lonely.
Considered an outsider by pretty much everyone, Robyn was never going to be prom queen, class president, or even valedictorian. She skated by with great (but not good enough to be in the top % of her class) grades, minimal after school activities, and a job at the movie theater she got as soon as she turned 16.
Despite having so many feelings inside her, this loneliness and rage and bitterness toward her peers, there was always an emptiness. At the end of the day she could simply turn off her feelings. It wasn’t (and isn’t) the healthiest way to cope, but it was something that comforted her. The pain of being an outsider was never too heavy to suppress.
How, if at all, have they changed in those eight years?
Robyn is nearly unrecognizable. Her personal style went from “whatever’s clean” to a curated wardrobe. While she was laid-back and carefree when she was younger, she’s now learned what it takes to get (and keep) people’s attention. Instead of riding her bike or taking her skateboard everywhere, she’s invested in a little car of her own.
Her glow up wasn’t a direct response to the tragedy, but it sure was helped by it. Once she finally became a part of the group (which she slowly learned was in name only) she felt important, and she started molding herself to fit the standard the others had set. It seems, however, she’ll never measure up. When everyone went their own ways, she had to learn to find confidence on her own, and putting on these new clothes felt like the first step. Now it’s all a fun little facade she puts on - and it was working.
The first few years of parties and events were fun, but they ring hollow now that it’s been nearly a decade. The awkward introductions, lies about “oh, we were friends in high school-” and photos with fake smiles posted on socials. It’s not suspicious to anyone that none of their throwback pics feature her, but she’s somehow part of their cherished history.
Now that everyone’s back, she’s reminded of just how small she felt around her Marli and their friends. It’s more apparent now than ever that she was only seen as their alibi, a piece of the puzzle to keep them all safe.
Additional Info:
My concept of how she became the alibi: She was working at the movie theater that night; after the murder, the gang all scrambled for cover at the theater where they were panicking over what they’d done. Desperate for their approval, she fished out movie tickets from the trash and handed them to everyone. They were at the movies all night, together, and she saw them. She ripped their tickets. They couldn’t have done anything, right? Because she saw them. No one had to convince her to help out. In fact, she’d offered. Especially when she saw the panic in Mars’s eyes. Family first, right?
Hey everyone! I’m Nico, 28 years old, they/them, GMT+1, and white (my partner is helping me with an accurate portrayal of Aruban culture, but I am always open for critique!!! And I love to learn!!) . I’m VERY excited to be here and plot with you all! I put WAY too much effort into writing up all the connections I envision between Greta and the others, which I’m going to post and would love to discuss with you all. I will be around later to read up all the intros! Feel free to add me on Discord: Naughty Nederlander#3098
And now to introduce:
Greta (pronounced GRI-ta) van Meeteren, born 28 years ago on the small island of Aruba in the Caribbean, moved to Sierra island when she was fourteen with her mom, dad, and two younger sisters. She took over her father’s business and is a fisherwoman on the island. She identifies as cis-female, she/her pronouns, and her biggest wish has always been to make her own big loving family on Sierra like she had on Aruba. Then you all left her and now she’s ping-ponging between wanting to be angry, pretending she put it all behind her, and secretly glad to see some of you alive and well.
More info below, and it’s a lot. Feel free to ask me for a summary!
8 YEARS AGO
Greta was a follower, always had been. She went with the flow knowing she would end up where she needed to be. She was happy, despite her father’s unlucky streak in the business, despite being poor and waking up at five every morning to go fishing before school. She believed she would get there, she believed something great was waiting for her. Being a follower didn’t mean being a sheep, she did whatever she liked, she would go home when it got too late, she would sneak off when she didn’t agree with something. She rarely spoke up, however, when she didn’t agree with something, she would rather get out than intervene. It same went for back home, she would help her mother and father without question, their love meant everything to her, and where she had gotten used to being pampered in Aruba where she grew up, she knew on Sierra she had to put in her own effort. Fishing with her father, cooking with her mother, bringing her sisters to school, doing homework, putting her sisters to bed, and repeat.
But Greta had a wish, that was why she was with the fourteen others, that was why she hung around when she thought of hiding, of staying home and doing more around the house. She had grown up with a big family, she had grown up in their company, surrounded by their love on her island, but only her mother, her father, and her siblings had come with her to Sierra. She still felt their love, leagues away, but she wanted a family of her own. She wanted to be as close to people there as she had been on Aruba. These fourteen others, or at least the bulk of them, she loved them. She loved them dearly, she would laugh at their jokes, enjoy their company, and suggest to go swimming together. She would follow them as far as she could and she would keep them company in the worst of times. She was their rock, as much as she was the rock at home.
She believed she had found family.
Till her family left her.
NOW
Greta too sought a way off of the island after what happened, but it wasn’t as easy for her. She hoped someone would guide her, but nobody did. She pleaded, asked for help, asked if she could join someone, asked if they would help her with setting up her own business. She just needed someone so she wouldn’t feel alone out there in the big wide world.
Instead they all left and nobody seemed to give her a second thought. So Greta stayed behind, never leaving the island of Sierra, only to go home once, back to Aruba, to scatter her father’s ashes. At twenty-four, she ran her father’s business. He had been a fisher back on Aruba, and had become one on Sierra too, his expertise came in handy, even though the backbreaking work and difficult economics had become his down-fall. Greta took over knowing she would have just as much misfortune as her father, but she understood why he had left the island where he was born in favour of an unknown place. She wished she was strong enough to do what he did, but the tragedy from her past still played a huge role in her present.
She had wanted to leave, but hadn’t been independent enough, and then she stayed because the ghost kept haunting her, because on street corners she would see his face, and sometimes she would see her father there too. Murdered by the island. And if she left, her father would be alone, alone with him.
Her mother listened, one night, when Greta, after a long day of work, was too angry with the people who left to keep it all in. She nodded, never judging, as her daughter rambled. A secret shared between them, first of a murder, then of life itself. She swore to keep the secret, of course she would. Greta knew she could count on her support, even if her mother wanted her to say something, she would never ask.
So Greta moved past it: she worked, she loved, she lived. She watched her sisters go to college, move off the island after she begged them to do what they wanted. She made sure they had some pocket money to come by. She would treasure their looks of love when they took off the island with smiles on their faces. But she remained: wake up at five, go fishing, return home to sell her catch, help her mother, drink a beer at the bar, go to bed, repeat.
Hoping the family that left her would never come home.
WANTED CONNECTIONS/CONNECTIONS I ALREADY WROTE OUT
These are just suggestions, I am open for other ideas!!
Greta believed the fifteen could be her new family, she was friendly with all of them - maybe too friendly with some - but her belief was firm on the idea that they would all face the world together, her feelings towards all of them returning are a mixed bag: some she is happy to see, most she hates for returning, all she wishes would stay.
They were supposed to be all in it together, for any other family a tragedy like this would’ve meant a stronger bond, but nothing done would’ve kept those from snapping. She always respected THE BRAINS as this otherworldly smart person who could help and guide when needed. They did, perfectly so, and Greta felt some pride in the days that followed, but where she thought it was a sign they cared, that caring had its defined limits, and she lived outside of them. She watches them most closely, waiting for a sign of further disconnect, wanting to see that cold monster underneath so she can yell at them for being so cold. But maybe she’s just jealous that she isn’t able to turn it off like they can.
Speaking of turning it off, she’s never liked THE GETAWAY DRIVER, always such a thrill seeker without caring much about whatever happened around them. There was jealousy there at first, till it turned to annoyance, till it turned to respecting that every family had the less than agreeable members, if that should be someone, they definitely had the potential. Though, truth be told, she could’ve done without them not returning at all. It may have even been preferable.
She believed she loved THE BACHELOR, a wounded soul like her, although dealing with far more tragedy, she knew if she could remain close to anyone it would be them, but they dropped her harder than most others did, they cut ties as if anything between them mattered nothing to them. Seeing their face now makes Greta want to lash out, wishing she could’ve tied them down before it all happened, wishing she had been more forward and less scared of reason. And now they return just as wounded and she flinches between wanting to hurt them further and wishing to scoop them up in her arms.
THE BRIDE Greta kept in contact with, one way or another, sure, she would never leave the island to join any Christmas or birthday party, but she would engage, send cards back, try to hold full conversations. But it never felt real, it felt like they were trying to ignore what had happened, that they didn’t want to acknowledge what had forced them apart after the island had put them all together. Seeing them in real life now, Greta doesn’t know how to act, she DOES want to talk about it, but clearly THE BRIDE does not.
Meanwhile THE GROOM has always been more the type of person Greta could look up to, she would never reach his selflessness, that was for sure, but watching them put everyone first always left Greta in awe. She wished she could be the same, she wished she could be as selfless. Yet, when it all mattered the most, they moved away and settled on caring differently. She never completely understood if they were being selfless or selfish, and with their return, Greta wishes to find out.
Greta used to wish she could change THE BLACKOUT, pull them away from their bad habits and nurse them back to health, but others always walked into those spaces, and Greta let them. Others would help them too, it would be fine, or so she believed. The first questions about that night she didn’t dare to answer. They moved away too, left her like all the others, and she hated them just as much. But as she learned to deal with it all, grew, suddenly there was the possibility to tell. But in person, she needed to tell them in person. Would they be willing to return to the island to learn? Was it a smart call to tell them all? Or would they draw conclusions Greta was too afraid to hear? The problem was: they had left her without knowing what had happened that evening, didn’t that make their leaving so much worse?
Greta never had much of an opinion on THE CULPRIT before it all happened, or maybe too much happened to be able to recall. She’s heard the rumours exchanged, she too believes it is them who did the deed, the murder everyone else covered up. In a sense she feels responsible for their mental state and she often wonders if it would’ve been more of a kindness to let them take the fall instead. May it not have been better than just letting them walk around with the knowledge for years and years? Would that be what they want too?
Greta didn’t much know THE SIBLING before the incident, a big eyed kid who wanted to play along with their seniors, with their big sibling. She was herself the eldest of three, and she couldn’t understand the feeling either. Her own sisters wished for nothing but to have their own thing, after Greta protected them all time on Aruba, despite never needing her protection. She sees THE SIBLING now and wonders: was it worth it? But also: you could’ve come to me.
By any standards, THE MAID OF HONOUR should’ve been the type of person Greta would be most close to, someone who obviously cared and was there for people. Only, Greta’s worst traits came to the surface whenever she was around the other: jealousy, annoyance, regret. Whatever THE MAID OF HONOUR had, she didn’t. She had always looked up to them, always felt the prickle of jealousy, but that night made it all a thousand times worse. They were the glue, Greta tried to be some kind of sticky stuff herself, but where they flocked to them, they moved away from her. She’s hated that feeling since forever, and she wishes to reconcile now, even though she doesn’t know how to. Even though she isn’t sure if she should.
It is THE CHILDHOOD FRIEND that Greta is most excited to see again, never having forgotten the kindness and love and happiness that they seemed to share so well, the constantly bubbly persona that she could only wish to have. If she could pick one to be the material parent of the group, she would pick them. Perhaps her love has always been greater than her ability to note the real difference, the real emotion hiden, but she senses it now, as if the currents between them have been so drastically altered that she no longer sees her friend. She’s desperate however, for some connection to the fifteen that does not leave her with loneliness or caution, she’s desperate to have them back.
Before it all, she loved them, THE OLD FLAME was easy to talk to, already taken, already a life ahead of them that Greta could only dream of. She wanted them happy, because looking at them, that dream of her own didn’t seem that far away. Easily laughs and compliments bordering on flirting, Greta knew they were the most loyal partner anyone could wish for. So when it ended, she wondered if it hadn’t already been doomed from the start. She reached out, begged them to stay, hoped they would heal and rest in her arms, but they left too. She swallowed the sadness and made space for the hate. But now they’re back, and her heart is constantly walking a fine line between hating and loving them unconditionally.
THE BEST MAN was her best friend, whether they felt the same about it or not, Greta loved them more than anyone else. Someone more on her level, wishing to do their best, a world changer. She looked up to them, but not in the same sense as she did others. The love she felt was more like the love she had for her childhood friends she had to leave behind on Aruba, friend and family. They were the one that made her believe she could have family with these people, that they could be a tight knit group, and then they left, like all the others, but they shut her off too, hard and cold, leaving her without her best friend. Well, fuck them, she doesn’t need them, and she will keep her hate for them close to her heart forever, even if it hurts her to act cold now, even if more than anything she wants that easy-going friendship back. It was like losing an arm, and now the new limb will never fit again. She needs to cast it out, her body needs to see it as a parasite, she needs to not fall apart around them. But what if they smile? What if they make one of those jokes again? What if they ask for her help? Can she be as cold as she wishes to be? Or will she fall apart with them?
It was wrong to call someone outside of their group to cover for them, Greta hadn’t realised it was decided when it already was. THE ALIBI, a gift, sudden and kind and loyal, gave their time to the friends, their life. She could not help it, a christmas card every year, a box of something sweet at the end of Easter, a fun spooky gift when Halloween came around, an apology without actually saying “i am sorry”, seeing them now, it’s almost too much. They did this to them, they ruined the life they were supposed to have. She did. She agreed, she never reached out, she never tried to protect them. She can feel the ghost closest when she thinks of them, so they are supposed to be the one they save, the true victim. They’re the only one she can forgive for leaving.
THE BARTENDER has got to be Greta’s favourite person on the island aside from her own mother, someone who is capable to see Sierra as a single entity, a family. She wishes she could look at it the same way, remembering Aruba from her youth, the constant reminder that it was “one island”, as if the fact that the sea surrounded them on all sides meant they were all one people. It was something she couldn’t see when she first came to Sierra, but a feeling she has been trying to connect with since all her friends left her. She spends many of her evenings at the bar, looks at THE BARTENDER lovingly as they speak, laugh at their jokes, and wish them to be spared of the despair she still feels around the island, hoping they never see the ghosts she has seen.
All in all, despite the years gone by, Greta is not done talking about what happened, sure, she moved past it, but many things surrounding it are still unresolved. She has accepted her part in it all, but she knows everyone has to face what happened. She may feel comfortable enough around some people to bring it up.
ooc. helloooooooo everyone !! my name is alex: i’m white, use she/her pronouns, and wish there were words enough for how excited i am to be here !! the worst best things about me are long & nonsensical rambles, passionate declarations of love, and a deep desire to sprinkle about a bit of angst at any and all (appropriate) opportunities. i’ve posted a character intro here and will be messaging everyone to plot very shortly !!
