#sterpstarter

[rangerlucassinclairx]

In the beginning Lucas had only started playing basketball because he’d hoped it might make him more popular and somehow help him and his friends get "cooler" at school. In the end that didn't work out as planned, and Lucas no longer believed that the guys on the basketball team would ever become his new friends—even if a few of them were actually okay. Most of the time, Lucas would still choose a good D&D campaign over playing basketball. But nervertheless, he did enjoy basketball. That was why he was still on the school team, even though he no longer felt such a strong urge to be "cool" or "popular".

Right now though, there once again were so many things on his mind, worrying him, that he decided to spend the afternoon shooting some hoops on the abandoned basketball court near school. Lucas worried about his friends, about Max, about everything that was going wrong lately. So he dribbled the ball across the court and took shot after shot at the hoop—without success. Normally, he wasn’t this bad, especially without an opponent. But he was obviously so distracted that he did not score once.

“Damn!” he cursed as the ball bounced off the hoop's rim again and flew off in another direction. Lucas hurried after it and only then noticed that his ball had landed right at someone’s feet…

@sterpstarters

[constanceelisee]

Connie likes wandering. Early in the morning. Before she starts her shift at Family Video, she always goes to the diner to grab coffee and some pancakes. It was also a way of escaping the looming question of whether or not she would go to college.

Today was going to be like any other. She walks to Family Video, David Bowie's Heroes, playing faintly in her ears. She opens Family Video and slowly sets everything up to start the day, before going to the door to switch the CLOSED sign to OPEN. On her way back to the counter, she notices that someone had brought back 'A Nightmare on Elm Street", she grabs it, deciding to watch it as she rewinds tapes. As she pops in the VHS tape in the TV and starts rewinding, the sound of bells ringing alerts her to a customer.

"Just ask me if you need anything," she says not moving her eyes from the TV.

@sterpstarters // OPEN

[daphneharris]

The air in Enzo’s always smelled like home—expensive red wine, garlic sautéing in butter, and the faint, papery scent of the leather-bound ledgers her father kept in the back office. It was a sanctuary of flickering candlelight and white tablecloths, a place where the darkness of Hawkins never quite dared to cross the threshold.

Daphne sat at the mahogany bar, one leg tucked neatly beneath the other, a flowy floral skirt spilling around her ankles like sunlight over water. A half‑finished glass of sparkling cider kept company with her Polaroid camera, both catching fragments of the amber light. Ink still clung to her fingertips from the menus she’d been updating, and she traced the gold rim of the glass as though it might hum back.

The chime over the door sliced through the low hum of a jazz record. She didn’t look up right away—just tucked a loose chestnut curl behind her ear and leaned closer over her father’s receipt ledger. "We’re just about to close the kitchen," she said, her voice soft and melodic, carrying that practiced, hostess-bred warmth. She finally lifted her gaze—eyes wide and honey‑warm against the gloom. "But… if you’re hungry, I can probably find something in the back."

[jhopper-ste]

Hopper stopped mid-step on the sidewalk, coffee in one hand, cigarette burning low in the other. Something seemed amiss—too silent, too motionless—and his gaze followed a figure lingering at the mouth of an alley. He stopped, exhaled smoke through his nose, and shifted his weight like he had all the time in the world. "You’re doing a real lousy job of blending in,” he muttered. “So how about you step out and tell me what you want—or keep hiding and give me a reason to make this a problem for both of us.” @sterpstarters

[dustinoutofrange]

open starter // @sterpstarters location: henderson residence, late afternoon

cerebro’s hum was the kind of sound that didn’t belong in any normal suburban bedroom. the lights flickered in rhythm with dustin’s typing, every keystroke answered by a soft click-click of relays. then the power cut: a full-on thunk!

“...oh come on!” dustin slammed the heel of his hand against the desk. “mom! moooo-oom!” silence.

he squinted through the dark toward the hall. “mona?” he tried next, softer but equally dramatic — the kind of call that could either summon assistance or spark a yelling match. “yo, mon! i had a ten-minute signal lock on 374 Hz and now it’s gone! you better not be blow-drying your hair again!” still nada.

dustin grabbed his walkie off the desk and clicked it twice for drama. “command to operation cousin — we’ve lost juice on all fronts. respond if alive.” only static answered. so, bundled in his hoodie, walkie in hand, he stomped downstairs, muttering something very unscientific under his breath. —hawkins’ most chaotic living room was bathed in tired afternoon light... and then he saw it. right there on the sofa arm, tossed like it was a perfectly normal household item: a bra. pink.

“—oh. oh. no. nope. nope nope nope—!”

he looked around helplessly, ears going red, already holding the antenna like a biohazard picker-upper. “why would you— why is this— this is textile warfare in a shared space! i’m traumatized! there are rules!”

he hesitated, then cautiously hooked the strap with the end of the antenna, lifting it at arm’s length like it might detonate.“— scientifically speaking — why do these come in sizes? are they like… helmets— oh god, i’m talking out loud. i hate this.”

the front door creaked open. without looking up, dustin yelled, “IT’S OPEN!” then immediately realized his catastrophic mistake.

“WAIT, DON’T— I MEAN— DO! BUT UH— NOT RIGHT NOW!”

he flailed, antenna still hooked, the bra swinging like a flag just as whoever was entering got a perfect view. “...it’s not what it looks like!” dustin blurted, voice cracking halfway to pluto. cue the madness. “i was just— doing SCIENCE!”

typical afternoon at the henderson house.

[kiingsteve]

Steve was sitting at the edge of Lover's Lake, claiming an old log as his seat. He was remembering the last time he had swum in its waters as he looked over the murky depths. With too many questions running unanswered through his mind, he decided to return to one of the last spots he remembered having an open gate. The water seemed peaceful, but he would have no way of knowing for sure without jumping in.

Sighing, as he contemplated whether or not to take another swim, he was interrupted by crunching footsteps coming from the forest behind him.

"Don't mind me," he spoke as he stood, brushing the dirt from his pants. "I was just leaving."

// @sterpstarters

[willowmvrs]

"Look, I do believe in free choice but—" Willow gently tugged the record from their hands. "There is no way in hell I can in good conscience, let anyone listen to this abomination."

Some people might consider the music he made, the work of the devil himself, but those same people would never know about his broad taste in music. He never hated on other genres, he found inspiration within them all, and he knew that every genre was capable of shit music.

// @sterpstarters

[jo-nathanbyers]

Still an hour or so before the fireworks show began, Jonathan stood in the middle of the park, staring up at the night sky. People crowded around, tiny children running with sparklers in their hands, others taking a rest and chatting with friends. It was all very... American of Hawkins. Very normal of the town, despite nothing feeling very normal for weeks.

He took the camera out of his messenger bag and started practicing his stance for when the fireworks finally started, taking a few test shots, not realizing someone had walked over and stood in front of him until he pulled the camera away to adjust the settings.

"Oh," he jumped, dropping the camera. "Didn't see you. Uh, hi."

// @sterpstarters @sterpcommunity