#teddybconnections

[tetheredhqs]

INTRODUCING…

name: utp

faceclaim: utp (must be a poc)

age: 26

gender & pronouns: utp (female or non-binary)

occupation: utp

DIG DEEPER…

THEN: they never met a problem they couldn’t solve, always seeking answers. eventually, it took them straight into the mouth of the beast: fort hemlock.

Faye Baker had always been an intuitive child. Growing up in a household that felt thick with the air of an unspoken secret for the sake of saving face in a small town’s social contract honed one’s emotional quotient. Faye found a way to pass through the world in this manner; between lines, in subtext, in subtle glances, notes in the margin… under the oppressive shadow of the brutalistic silhouette of Fort Hemlock. Faye had never been especially brave. She was not gifted with intelligence like her half-sister–and lord knows in early adolescence she had tried to keep up with Julie Bly, a rivalry in which they could not accurately be called siblings and no one tallied the score aside from Faye. But what Faye could do was relate, empathize, and express. Each of these became Faye’s own quiet language. It was through this way of analyzing the world that she came to understand she shared a mother with Julie, though no one wanted to admit as much; gifts in her mother’s closet in her size, to her tastes, that were never given to Faye but seen in Julie’s possession at school later on. Those gifts ceased around the age of ten. It was this observation of her surroundings that brought her to Teddy, noticing that endearing crease in her brow when she concentrated or that precise crinkle at the corner of her eyes when she laughed. 

Faye’s engagement with the world was passive as she learned to interact with others. But it was quite an active interpretation when she turned a mirror on the world. Sensitive, inquisitive, and open, she easily found purchase to utilize what she noted and felt in the form of art. By the time she entered high school, she had tried her hand at just about everything in the field of arts. She had led in multiple school plays and musicals, had perfect attendance in band rehearsal since she had first picked up a flute in fourth grade, filled every elective class on her high school schedule with advanced pottery, drawing I, II, and III, advanced painting, still life; her appetite to create seemed insatiable and endless. She wrote poems and novellas, papers were submitted twice the length required, and she was the darling of the English/Language Arts wing of Bellworth Crossing High. 

With no particular social group to claim as her own, Faye got along well with most. She found herself with unfettered access to nearly all social groups, but bonafide membership within none. Often seen as an empathetic shoulder who provided an unbiased ear and grounding support, even in the most trivial of spats between friends, Faye could only count a very small number of truly close friends. Though many disclosed plenty to her, it was only Teddy , and in the throes of adolescence this sometimes festered into quiet, private resentment. Faye longed for more holistic social engagement, was envious of those with thriving social lives, and was often covetous of the depth of the bond she saw between Teddy and Julie. But she found herself paralyzed when opportunities presented themselves. Her parents had engrained in her that if one was not invited, one was not wanted, warned her against inviting herself to things, against being seen as too emotional, too much, and so often she retreated into her notebooks and sketchbooks, waiting until someone decided she was useful and pouring the whole of herself out for them when they did.

When Teddy disappeared, the world felt bleak and bereft of beauty. She attempted found art projects in the woods near Fort Hemlock to feel closer to the missing girl and to try to understand her own feelings. But everything was hollow. And she found she could not heal the wound the disappearance afflicted her with or fill the void of her absence. Why was anyone talking about college applications and assembling an admissions portfolio when Teddy was gone?  

NOW: if they’ve learned anything, it’s that red string connects everything—whether they want it to or not. what do you do when the answers find you instead of vice versa?

Faye tried her hand at a fresh start, college several states away. And at first, it felt like a new beginning might take. She made friends, made art, engaged in her classes, and for a moment she felt happy. But that happiness was fleeting, intercepted by nightmares and chaos in her dreams. So frequent and disturbing were her dreams that by the end of her first semester she had applied to transfer for a state school less than an hour away from Bellmont Crossing. She barely made it through the spring semester before her father, considered free-spirited and a little woo-woo for the times, insisted she resume the care of the head shrink he had found for her in high school. And things calmed and ultimately Faye was able to finish her dual major in psychology and visual/studio arts. 

Her post-collegiate return to Bellmont Crossing was not particularly compelling, nor have the years since been. For a while, Faye worked odd jobs until the nightmares subsided completely. Eventually, her dreams became the stuff of soft shimmers as they had been before she left town, which both comforted and unnerved her all at once. Her mark on town is similar to her presence, quiet but noticeable. A few murals downtown, as well as some soulless modern ones in the new Sunset Square Mall. While painting a wall with gaudy neon stripes and stars, she was approached for a full-time opportunity managing the leases for the individual shops, a role as mundane as it is soulless, but it pays for the groceries and a one-bedroom apartment. 

In an attempt to actually put her degree to use, Faye teaches classes at the local community center. There, she sneaks nuggets from her psychology degree into art, supporting self expression and exploration of emotion, creativity, and curiosity. Her role at the mall pays the bills, but this work feeds her soul. If it weren’t for the looming memory of nightmares and her psyche’s utter rejection of being outside the town limits of Bellmont Crossing, she might pursue an advanced degree to pursue the growing field of art therapy. The changes in her friends, in town, and most of all in Teddy, spurred Faye to seek work in the helping field. But the atmosphere, the strange omniscience of Bellmont Crossing kept her stationary. What she was meant for was out of reach, and what Bellmont meant for her would seize her for its purposes whether she liked it or not. Of this, she was fairly certain. 

Faye lives mired in self doubt and regret. Am I using people in the same way I felt used at times in High School? - If I can’t find the depth of relationships I want, the common denominator–the problem–is me, isn’t it? Couldn’t I have saved Teddy? - If I had asked one more correct question, if I had tried to stay with her just one more night, if I was a better person could I have given her what she needed after the accident? The overthinking is endless, chasing every thread, analyzing every connection, agonizing over each choice, until the pieces fit together into a tidy narrative. Except they never do. 

THE GIFT OF THE DREAMING VEIL...

ACTIVE: their dreams occasionally foreshadow events in symbolic or fragmented ways. small details from their dreams later appear in real life.

INACTIVE: their dreams become chaotic and meaningless. sleep leaves them feeling unsettled rather than insightful.

TIE TO THE INCIDENT...

teddy bellworth / secret ex-girlfriend. tucked behind stacks of library books and 'friendly' sleepovers, the two had been in a relationship, one only known to their closest friends. a first love had been cruelly interrupted by the incident, with teddy seeming to disappear into thin air. seen as just a ‘concerned friend’, they led the charge in the efforts to find teddy. in the  year spent searching for their love, they were often found in the woods with a flashlight and an unwavering determination. after teddy's return home, they tried to pick up where they left off, the two attempting to navigate the aftermath together, though their romance fizzled out within the months after. despite staying friends in the years that follow, the self-reproach remains.

CONNECTIONS...

holding out for a hero / partner in crime. they started as lab partners in freshman biology, finishing their work early and getting up to mischief while they waited for the bell to ring. until graduation, they were close enough, friends of convenience, a go to partner for a project or presentation. once diplomas were in hand, however, they lost touch, too focused on what came next to put the work into keeping in contact with the other. in the past few years, they’ve reconnected, and are working to capture the magic of what they used to have. maybe they’ll never get back to what they used to have, but what they’re building is something even better, as they find themselves even closer than they were before.

love my way / 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.

where is my mind / like-mind. even after the hush money, ndas, and bogus cover story the government pushed, the mutual thought between the two was that they needed answers. it wasn't clear how to get them, or if they ever would, but they had to try. in the decade that passed, both never gave up hope on trying to find information about or answers for the things they saw that night, for whatever the hell it was that they stumbled into. some could call it an obsession, while others may see it as admirable. it doesn't matter if a year, a decade, or a century have passed—these two will still find themselves shoulder to shoulder, sifting through any evidence they can find.

should i stay or should i go / half siblings. the divorce shocked bellworth crossing to its core: an affair that ended in a pregnancy, a messy divorce, and a courthouse marriage between a mother and her affair partner. they share the same mother, but after that, the similarities end. they had always been a strange part of the other’s life, the lingering elephant in the room that no one wanted to address. they’ve never known how to act around one another, too caught up in their parent’s opinions and gossip to learn how to navigate any kind of relationship. even now, they’re still unsure how to interact with each other. an on-going tension remains, caught between continuing to avoid the other and seeking out a familial connection.

[tetheredhqs]

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.

[tetheredhqs]

INTRODUCING…

name: david bellworth

faceclaim: tyriq withers

age: 27

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

occupation: volunteers at the community center

DIG DEEPER…

THEN: ever the skeptic, always the one daring to push back and question their namesake, society, conformity. the fact that those thoughts came after smoking a joint is besides the point.

every legacy family needed its scandal, and the birth of david francis solidified what everyone knew to be true: the bellworth name was a double-edged sword. david walked a tight line, back then. the legitimacy of his birth and his birthright questioned, even when his father, carrying the bellworth name, proudly walked alongside their family and married his mother the same year it became legal. this kind of turbulence shaped david’s viewpoint of the world. first, there were questions. then, understanding. somewhere after came the frustration. which caused him to start acting out in ways that were subtle, but intentional. testing the boundaries of what being a bellworth meant in this town, and if those same privileges were extended to him.

since the white-washed version of family & tradition wasn’t david’s style, he had “freedom” in the sense that not many people (besides his immediate family) expected a whole lot out of him. so, he tried his hand at a bunch of things. school was fine, but he found most of his teachers dull & uninspiring. the extra-curriculars were where he shined. social clubs, academic-based groups, sports. it allowed him to be a chameleon of sorts, blending in with different cliques, always looking, searching for his people. of course, there were some constants — should i stay or should i go being a big one — but for the most part, david never kept a large group of friends for too long. people always wanted something, and he could see that. proximity to his family. access to his home. it turned his natural curiosity about life into a jaded cynicism before he knew it was even happening. a double-edged tongue and his growing anxiety kept him a distance from most people who didn’t bother to try and understand. praise be for mary jane.

NOW: justifiably paranoid, held together by the red string used to connect clues. they can’t escape what happened, letting the search for answers consume them instead.

on bad days, when he can’t find a way to get out of bed & the guilt feels just a little too thick in house throat to swallow down, david replays that night back in ‘78 over & over & over. the adrenaline pumping in his veins that whole night, losing their way and finding it again, the entity breaking loose, the chaos of the retreat, running alongside teddy — no, he was pulling her along when they — no, no, he lost her and was going to go find her, but — fuck. fuck. fuck. blame it on a decade of weed or a trauma he’s yet to fully unearth, but the year teddy disappeared put a weight on david that he hadn’t expected. sure, they’d seen each other at family gatherings & had brief conversations in passing at school, but they weren’t ever friends. but with his closest friend now grown close with his cousin of all people, facing the reality of that night and trying to reconcile with the truth of today is a weight that all the ndas in the world couldn’t dare keep quiet.

in a way that he might’ve been searching for himself before, david’s as clear as he’ll ever be about who he is now. he doesn’t apologize for saying what’s on his mind, he moves throughout the town, his town, like he owns the place. and in some ways, he does. the bellworth name might’ve meant something to thomas back in the fuckin 1800s, but here, present day? david feels a conviction that something has to be done about all the fucked up shit that’s been swept away for too long. so much blood soaked in the soil of the town at this point, it’s a miracle he hasn’t moved away for good. but he knows that he can’t actually move on until he finds what he’s looking for. these days, he’s volunteering most of his time on staff at the community center — coach, lifeguard, custodian. literally whatever they need that day. it started as a vanity title, really, something to keep him busy, but it’s become something he actually looks forward to. the north end is the best end, because it’s the last real piece of the place he knows all too well. mayor donovan can slap a new coat of paint on bellworth crossing all he wants, but the shit still stinks. and david’s gonna prove it.

THE GIFT OF THE FINAL HOUR...

ACTIVE: when someone near them is going to die, they can sense it. they get a sinking feeling in their stomach, a quiet realization in the back of their brain that something is nearing its end.

INACTIVE: their intuition becomes unreliable. they dismiss warning signs and brush off what they’ve previously called dangerous. they assume things are safer than they really are.

TIE TO THE INCIDENT...

teddy bellworth, cousin. despite sharing a family name, the differences between the two have always been obvious. one has always been the talk of the town, the shining light and the kind of person to aspire to. then there’s the other side of the coin, never quite living up to the family name. where teddy’s side was put on a pedestal, the pendulum swung in the opposite direction for their extended family. a resentment wedged between them, practically a birthright, only made worse through time and trauma. when teddy moved inward, their cousin’s frustration grew, both knowing exactly why: teddy is the key to getting real answers about what happened that night, even if she doesn’t remember it.

CONNECTIONS...

burning down the house, messy duo. for the longest time, the two were convinced they had nothing in common. what similarities could even exist between someone at the top of the food chain and someone too faded to care about the food chain in the first place? time has passed, and now they’re able to find common ground, mostly under the influence of… whatever they can find. sure, they don’t always bring out the best in each other, but they’re having fun, so who cares? (the world. the world cares. their loved ones care too. everyone would be so much safer if they stayed apart. but where’s the fun in that?) 

under pressure, opposites attract. when they’re in public, they’re borderline antagonistic to each other. they disagree on everything—what decisions to make, how to present themselves in the world, everything. when they’re in private? the chemistry is too intense to deny. there’s an element of care between them that’s grown over nights spent under the covers and kind words whispered in the heat of passion. it’s one that they’d vehemently deny if anyone called them out on it, but it’s there nonetheless, causing both of them to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be something more, something real. and then one of them talks, and reminds the other exactly why they can’t.

should i stay or should i go, childhood friend. they’ve known each other for as long as either of them can remember, a friendship that started in childhood and somehow lasted through the years. growing up side by side meant sharing the small moments that shaped them: long afternoons, inside jokes, and the quiet familiarity that only comes from years of knowing someone at their most unfiltered. through every shift in their lives, that bond has remained steady. there’s an easy trust between them, the kind that doesn’t need much explanation or effort to maintain. no matter how much the world around them has changed, their friendship has always felt like something solid, a rare constant in the middle of everything else.

heart of glass, like-mind. even after the hush money, ndas, and bogus cover story the government pushed, the mutual thought between the two was that they needed answers. it wasn't clear how to get them, or if they ever would, but they had to try. in the decade that passed, both never gave up hope on trying to find information about or answers for the things they saw that night, for whatever the hell it was that they stumbled into. some could call it an obsession, while others may see it as admirable. it doesn't matter if a year, a decade, or a century have passed—these two will still find themselves shoulder to shoulder, sifting through any evidence they can find.

[tetheredhqs]

INTRODUCING…

name: lila browne

faceclaim: madison bailey

age: 27

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

occupation: paramedic at bellworth crossing medical center

DIG DEEPER…

THEN: their norm was the expectation to reach a finish line that was constantly moving. they always watched others with envy-clouded eyes, wishing their life was that simple.

life had not always been easy for lila. a family that ripped itself open from the inside, old wounds festering and decaying over years of expectations. everybody said that she was destined for greatness. a young and vibrant mind that could read giant books as a small child, solve mathematical equations with ease and pick up languages with a determination and tenacity like no other. there’s a certain pressure that comes with academic prowess, a feeling of weight on her shoulders that would keep her down if she could not bear the burden. even as a young girl, lila understood that her gifts would be what cemented her future. countless doors and prospects would be wide open for the taking if she just kept learning. and learning and learning. despite this, lila didn’t really have the most inspirational parental guidance. with a scorned father who swore he despised her mother for the betrayal that cut deep - an affair and subsequent marriage; a half-sister who came out of nowhere. her mother? lila felt that she was too caught up in her new life that she was just the reminiscence of an unhappy time with her father. so unhappy that it led to infidelity and her own life changed without thought.

at this point the only thing lila could do was steel herself. she had always known how to take care of herself. her father was not doing the best in those days, spending more time at the bar than at home. she cooked and cleaned, mowed neighbours lawns for extra cash, even tried a lemonade stand with limited success. whenever she spent time at her mother’s house it was easier to slip around unnoticed, nose buried in books and absentminded words of encouragement echoing throughout the house. lila could not speak to her sister, the words failed her. with the amount of extracurricular classes and hobbies that she took up, lila barely had the time to keep up with small niceties. what do you say to the product of the destruction of your parent’s marriage? lila blamed her and her step-father in those early years. it was easier to hold a grudge than recognise that you’ve been left behind. 

as lila grew older the grudge faded with emotional maturity. she found her people, a circle of friends from different paths - a mismatched gang who held onto each other and had each other’s backs. she was more open to communicating with her sister albeit a little awkwardly. her classes were excellent, her grades even more so - she had a part time job at the roller rink to keep income flowing for herself. however, ever since she was a small little thing, the one constant in her life was teddy bellworth; always nearby but never close. she was traumatised beyond compare on the fateful night of her disappearance. lila never really recovered after that - the deaths of her classmates and how teddy just vanished. upon her return lila never felt more relieved. they truly connected then - kindred spirits who saw something beautiful in one another. they became cornerstones. lila would do anything to help her and vice versa. the definition of a ride or die. 

NOW: a diploma, the approval, everything done right—vigilantly stitched together through the years. the only thing missing? a sense of self.

lila eventually went on to attend university. in her earlier years she had great aspirations for perhaps being a professor one day, or entering the sciences. however, after that night and witnessing such chaos and loss - even with how faded and confusing her memories later became, it instilled a need to protect others. fiercer and harsher than it had ever been prior to that night. she trained to become a paramedic and worked hard to the point of delirium. nights spent cradling books, days focusing on the practical side of the profession. eventually she graduated and returned home, feeling a little more put together but quite frankly still lost. for some reason, lila expected things to seem different upon her return. like her accomplishments would mean more to everyone than just… her. everything was just as it was. almost like she had never left. lila was not narcissistic enough to believe the world revolved around her but it just brought up the old feelings of inadequacy and emotional neglect. she had attained after loss, and yet what was the outcome? a degree, an ability to help, but everything was simply unchanged.

in the last ten years lila has blossomed into something new. she looks around at the people who never had the crushing weight of expectations thrust upon them. she sees people going about their daily life without much care. even the nonchalant autopilot feeling of everyday existing is something to be desired. lila has calculated every step throughout her life, worked harder than anyone to realize her potential - only to come back and feel jaded. lila thinks back to her teenage self, so determined and diligent, who could only think of the finish line. now her thoughts can only be with those who were lost too soon. even with all of her success and a fulfilling job as a paramedic, lila can only wonder if the true success is to simply just be alive and well.

THE GIFT OF THE TRUE PATH...

ACTIVE: they have an extremely accurate internal compass. they always choose the right street, the right trail, the right hallway, the right door. even in unfamiliar places, it’s as if they feel the correct direction in their bones.

INACTIVE: their sense of direction collapses. they take wrong turns. they misread maps. familiar places disorient them. even gps glitches seem to happen more often.

TIE TO THE INCIDENT...

teddy bellworth / childhood neighbor. while they spent a majority of their childhood within one another’s proximity, there wasn’t a closeness shared between the two. it was more of a mutual understanding, as they observed the other and remained a bystander. after teddy’s unexpected return, they forged a new bond; an unspoken understanding between two people who had seen horrors they could not explain, and never looked at each other any differently because of them. while teddy became the town pariah, the two grew closer, almost inspired to remain connected out of spite. they refused to let the other drown—though the scale leaned more towards keeping teddy from collapsing in—with the understanding that the same grace would always be extended in the opposite direction if the time ever came.

CONNECTIONS...

changes / unfinished business. before everything fell apart, there had been something undeniable between them, the kind of slow-burning attraction everyone else seemed to notice before they did. late conversations, lingering looks, the quiet understanding that something real was forming between them. it never had the chance to fully become what it might have been. after the incident at fort hemlock and the loss that followed, one of them pulled away from everything that reminded them of that time and left town without much explanation. now that they’re back, the distance between them feels heavy with unfinished business. whatever they were before isn’t gone, exactly… it’s just tangled up with grief, resentment, and questions neither of them has quite figured out how to ask.

where is my mind / childhood friend. they’ve known each other for as long as either of them can remember, a friendship that started in childhood and somehow lasted through the years. growing up side by side meant sharing the small moments that shaped them: long afternoons, inside jokes, and the quiet familiarity that only comes from years of knowing someone at their most unfiltered. through every shift in their lives, that bond has remained steady. there’s an easy trust between them, the kind that doesn’t need much explanation or effort to maintain. no matter how much the world around them has changed, their friendship has always felt like something solid, a rare constant in the middle of everything else.

love my way / 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.

heart of glass / half siblings. the divorce shocked bellworth crossing to its core: an affair that ended in a pregnancy, a messy divorce, and a courthouse marriage between a mother and her affair partner. they share the same mother, but after that, the similarities end. they had always been a strange part of the other’s life, the lingering elephant in the room that no one wanted to address. they’ve never known how to act around one another, too caught up in their parent’s opinions and gossip to learn how to navigate any kind of relationship. even now, they’re still unsure how to interact with each other. an on-going tension remains, caught between continuing to avoid the other and seeking out a familial connection.