𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄.

that’s the only real life, the only thing that makes you know you’re alive: the backward ache. JORDAN ALBY-SLATER. thirty-two. former air force cyberspace operations officer. it manager at nouveau hotel and resort. CLICK HERE FOR INTRO!

[xslater]

𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐲-𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

Averie looked down at her daughter practically bouncing in her spot and she wondered just how much fun she had tonight with her uncle. Drew talked about Jordan more than he could imagine, mentioning moments between their time together from time to time. “This all sounds absolutely delicious!” She said, the little girl erupting into giggles as she looked over at her uncle with a look of approval.  They cracked her up most of the time, but sometimes she felt guilty. The guilt harbored from her messy divorce but she was working on moving forward, progressing for the future of her daughter and herself. She couldn’t hold onto the past that no longer served her. 

“Do you not want to get paid? I can go take that direct deposit right back,” she said to him, helping Drew with her chopsticks and plate. She gave her an assortment of options, handing her her bright turquoise chopsticks. “Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun all day playing with Drew. Sometimes, it’s good to come out of your cave, Jordy,” she teased him, grabbing a sushi right off the platter with a smile. 

“Have you seen grandpa recently?” She asked him, handing him his own plate. 

‎

Growing up, Jordan was determined not to work for his family. It’s just weird, especially where money’s going to be concerned, so he veered as far away as possible from that notion. Well, here they are. The worst that could happen is they get accused of nepotism, right? “Joke’s on you, if I don’t get paid I’m just gonna crash right here, rent-free,” he muses, and picks up a California roll that goes directly into his mouth. "Hecks yeah, D and I always have the best time, right?” He waggles his eyebrows at his niece. “How about you come out of your cave? When’s the last time you even went on a date? A date date, not a business-suits-and-cocktails-at-six date.” He probably shouldn’t be so nosy about his sisters’ love life but of all of them, they’re the only ones who’ve ever really gotten to the point of marriage and children. And as much as he enjoys babysitting his niece and nephew, he’s not sure he’s the best influence in the long run.

He pushes himself off of the floor and pads back to the kitchen to see what drinks they have. “Uh... no, not really.  He’s been a little under the radar lately.” He grabs a juice pack for Drew and two light beers for himself and Averie.” Been havin’ secret meetings with that bar owner guy. Real hush-hush. Can’t get anything out of him, either,” he adds, popping off the beer caps and returning to his spot to place the bottles on the table and poke Drew’s juice pack with the straw for her.

[xslater]

𝐣𝐚𝐱 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫.

Jax looked away at the comment, it was a joke, she knew it was a joke, but she didn’t know whether she could react without clearly showing that she didn’t think it was funny. He was quick on the uptake however, and she nodded. Not shying away from him completely, but feeling herself inflate on the bench a little. 

“No… Uhm, I gave my phone to the cops because I got called by the ghost,” she told him. “I didn’t want it. They gave me a new one, but I haven’t even turned it on yet. I’m afraid the ghost will call me again anyway.”

Of the people who’ve mentioned being contacted by that mysterious caller, most, if not all of them, are convinced that it was a ghost. As much as he wants to be open to the possibility that things like that can and do happen, it feels like a too-convenient response to things that are a little more difficult - but not impossible - to explain.

And why would anyone willingly believe something that very clearly upsets them? He can see that the mere thought of it is distressing to Jax. If only he could offer another explanation to soothe their worries, but he’s barely just scratched the surface of his own investigation on the haphazard radio signals; how can he hope to have any answers for this?

“What do you think it wants?” Because it must want something, right? If it were truly a ghost, it can’t just be dialing people’s numbers willy-nilly. There has to be a reason.

[xslater]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞.

With Desmond in his room, enjoying his own slurpee, Chase was left with her older brother. It had been a while since she had genuinely gotten to hang out with him, and, despite everything, she was glad that she could be around her family. Even when they were asking questions like that. “Shut up.” It was her instinct to elbow him in response. “You’re older than me, and I don’t see you acting all desperate.” But then she fell silent, there mere thought of finding someone else oddly terrifying her. That would mean a new start, an actual acceptance that Wes was gone, and despite a year gone, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.

‎

“Yeah, but I’m not the one out here with a kid. I’m an eligible bachelor forever, baby.” He spreads his arms wide, almost as if to invite any willing lovers, of which there are a scarcity here in Pleasance. He’s really not the dating type, though, and something tells him that none of his siblings are, either. “Okay, forreal though, you ever get scared Desmond might get... you know. Daddy issues? ‘cause he’s gotta have some kind of father figure around, right?” 

[xslater]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.

He had fallen asleep on the couch with the Harlan Ellison book on his chest. He managed to read a couple of pages before the warm weight of Hogan on stomach and Kane on his legs made him fall asleep. At least until he was woken up with words that included important. He lurched to his feet. Kane and Hogan sent scrambling. Hogan puppy brayed his displeasure while Kane’s hackles raised. “Easy now…it’s just Jordan…” he said with a yawn, pulling his robe from the back of the recliner and pulled it on. He was a pajama pants, no shirt kind of sleeper. He opened the door. “Hey Jordan… mighty early for breakfast,” he quipped. “What’d you need, buddy?”

‎

The only reason - and Jordan is going to convince himself and everyone else of this should it ever come up again - that he’s knocking on Q’s door is because the sheriff, of course, is licensed to carry a gun, which would be convenient if the situation ended up requiring one. He’s not here because he's genuinely frightened and the man had this undeniably inherent way of making those around him feel protected. Pft. Of course not. He was trained in the air force. He’s not so easily spooked.

“I think there’s something in my house.” He’s already got his phone in his hand, swiping through the screen to pull up the footage he managed to take. “I captured a part of the sound, but I swear, it’’s there, in my attic. I... I didn’t check, I figured... you know, I’d probably drive them... it away.”

[xslater]

𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬.

He rubs his eyes, almost as if he’s trying to will the tiredness out of them. Hunter hadn’t gotten any sleep the previous night, having been kept awake from a combination of the constant ringing and the eeriness of the call.

“There was a man on the other end, he was very upset about something.” He replies, the tone of the voice vivid in his memory. “I couldn’t reason with him or anythin’. He wouldn’t listen to what I had to say.” Not that Hunter had much to say to the supposedly supernatural being, but anyone would have tried to calm a very distraught person down. It was only human nature to want to understand what was going on and he hadn’t gotten that from the call.

“Maybe it was just some guy getting the wrong number and trying different ones?” Though, even as he says it, what were the odds that those calls would end up through the neighbor’s phone? “If you ask me, though, is it really that strange? I mean, it sounds exactly like the sort of thing that would happen around here.”

[xslater]

STARTER FOR @chasexhawthorne​ chase’s house.

“You ever think about getting back out there? You know... on the market?” The question comes out unprompted - as they often do with him - the straw of his slurpee chewed and flattened between his teeth. He’s sitting on Chase’s couch with his feet up on the coffee table like he owns the place. “’cause I tella ya sis, you’re not gettin’ any younger.” 

[xslater]

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤.

Where: Spotlight Cinema Closed: @xslater​

The cinema had a run of spooky movies showing. Posters outside displayed what jump scares might be inside on the screens. Gram stopped to look at one in particular. In the poster, a person in a white, expressionless mask held a knife and peered through the window of an unsuspecting victim. Typical old-skool slasher stuff, he presumed. 

Behind him, he felt a presence. Likely someone was also debating what might be worth the price of admission. Gram turned. “You seen this one yet?” He pointed over a shoulder to the promo poster. “I don’t understand why no one in these movies ever seems to have curtains? They’re basically inviting every random killer to look inside their home.” 

Of course, he wasn’t looking for a real answer, as there were plenty of inconsistencies in horror films to begin with. He was more interested in what might be a decent movie for getting into the spirit of Halloween.

‎

“You know, at this point, I’m just gonna go ahead and say yeah, I probably have.” He narrows his eyes at the poster. It doesn’t look much different from any other ones he’d seen before in the same genre. These producers, they just get less and less original, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s got time to kill before Chase can clock out and they can go get dinner. “I mean, the scariest thing about ‘em is probably the budget they spend on making these movies and the money I bet they lose each time. But that’s on them.” He lifts a hand still inside his jacket pocket to point at the framed poster. “Summer Nightmare. They could’ve at least come up with a better title.”

[xslater]

𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐲-𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

「 ✧ 」

Averie had a way of balancing her many roles in life. Most recently the most prominent ones were being a good mother, remaining a successful woman in her career and remaining true to herself as an individual. She had moments where she found herself reaching her maximum but she would always find a way to make it work. Being CFO of their family hotel was no easy feat. While it was no booming chain business, it still brought in money that required hard work from her. Today was pay day, everyone’s favorite day and her most tedious one. 

Taking the whole day for work wasn’t something she typically did but on days like these, it was necessary. Once Averie began with the finances and monies, there was no stopping. Everyone had their own methods and routines in roles like these. After a long day filled with numbers, she drove home in silence wondering what her brother could’ve possibly been doing with Drew. The two were a good duo, one she expected since the moment she told Jordan she was expecting. 

Picking up a sushi spread on the way home, she was slugging through the front door relieved to finally be in her humble abode. She dropped her bag, kicked her shoes off and walked into the sight of Jordan and Drew being them. “Hey, you goofs,” she greeted them with a soft smile on her features. “Did you eat real food? Like… real food?” She asked, approaching them, wrapping her arms around Drew. 

“It’s sushi Saturday! You in or you in?” She questioned them. 

‎

He’s pretty much done with Drew’s hair, so he hoists himself up on the couch to allow the mother and daughter a moment to greet each other. “Taco Bell is real food, right?” Jordan smiles at his niece. The eight-year old had zero complaints about his choice of cuisine, but her mother might have a different opinion. “Then we had PB&J for snacks.” He grins proudly, like feeding a child on his own had been an impossible feat he’d successfully conquered. Now the real adult was home bearing free sushi. How could he ever say no to that?

“Heck yeah, I’m in.” He springs to his feet and takes it upon himself to bring spread to the kitchen so he can unwrap it. He finds some chopsticks ( his is a blue-colored lightsaber one he’d left a few months ago that he’d never bothered taking back for such occasions ) and a sauce plate to pour some Kikkoman in. “You know, I can’t believe grandpa actually lets you work all day,” he calls out from behind the island. “Isn’t the whole point of nepotism so you can get paid money you don’t deserve by your relatives who’ll let you have it without working a day in your life?” He grins and  takes their dinner to the living room for them to enjoy around the coffee table.

[xslater]

𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐡𝐧.

“Is that what that was?” She wondered, putting the end of her stylus to the corner of her mouth. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard the explosion, more like she was still doing the legwork in asking locals about their experiences, before she’d head out to poke around the area and see what was what.

“Neat. The only explosion I’ve ever experienced was when my roommate’s old scrap-heap of a car went nuclear in the parking lot at three in the morning during finals.”

( It had been, the worst night imaginable. )

Henrietta did take down the tip offered to her, reaching out to pat her hand against the arm of the person leaving; she’d offer them a quick, polite thank you for your time, to keep up with the small-town manners that had been bred and born into her. And, sometimes remembered. To the guy speaking to her now, she drew closer. “ - you get a look at the explosion yourself? Or someone tell you about it?”

‎

A lazy shrug decorates his shoulders. “I wouldn’t take my word for it if I were you. I wasn’t here. But a friend told me about it. Seems oddly suspicious these things should happen at the same time.” Or his training had just led him to be suspicious of everything. He’s not sure if that’s supposed to be a good thing. “But if it was loud and in the middle of the night, it probably was.”

He eyes the very professional-looking notebook in the other’s hands; another thing he should probably find suspicious. Who still writes with a pen and paper? “You a reporter or something?”

[xslater]

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐡 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲.

“Serious answer? I’m semi-offended that you haven’t asked me before; I read your pokemon cards once, secretly.” She pushes over the cup of coffee she’s poured for him, settling in to sip her own. “Do the phone calls have you spooked? Because you shouldn’t fret, little one - I have it on good authority, the culprit meant no harm.”

‎

“Yeah? And what’d my Charizard say?” He remembers when conversations like this  were once his way of trying to get into her pants. And maybe he still hasn’t stopped trying to do that, but it’s a lot less complicated now. Or he wants it to not be complicated anymore. And she’s into this kind of stuff, because she’s weird and off-beat and he likes that about her, so much that he doesn’t mind if this isn’t necessarily flirting anymore. He genuinely does enjoy her company and with it, all the strange little pet names she calls him.

“I’m a good two inches taller than you,” he reminds her. “and they don’t have me spooked. I didn’t even get one. I’m still mad about that.” He reaches for the cup, complimentary of course - or it better be at least. “Whose authority? The little goblins in your backyard that bring you intel?”

[xslater]

𝐣𝐚𝐱 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫.

Jax blinked a few times, awkward within a single instance, as if that was her natural state whenever people sat down next to her that she didn’t know well enough. Or perhaps with anyone, really. “I- I don’t know if I would do well with moms,” she stated. Not sure if that was the type of answer she wished to give. “But- who knows, maybe the ghost will call you when you give me your phone, and then you’ll be without one.”

He pulls a face that vaguely resembles shock - though probably executed with less finesse that comes with a partially numbed face from all those years snorting pills - at the answer this unassuming stranger gives him. But she’s not really a stranger, because he recognizes her, this woman his grandfather all but pulled from the river.

Okay, not really, but he may as well have. 

“Without a mom or without a phone?” It’s a joke, but it doesn’t land very well, so he shakes his head and with it, the expression that comes off like crumbs on his shirt. “I’m just kidding, I know what you meant.” He coils his earphones around his phone and slides into his front pocket. “Do you actually not have a phone? Or do you have one, but it’s one of those old, keypad things no one uses anymore but is still technically a phone?” Based on what his grandfather had told him about her, the former probably shouldn’t be so hard to believe.

[xslater]

𝐛𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚.

Bishan chuckled. “Real excitement,” he offered in agreement. Sure, sitting behind a computer the whole day might bring joy to some, he just gave all those jobs to someone else, so he didn’t have to. 

He bit the side of his lip and then nodded. “I guess, in a way. I own Dutch’s, so that’s very much hospitality.” And ensuring the people of Pleasance got their weekly load of drugs was a type of hospitality. “Just as exciting IT, I guess.” He smiled. “Perhaps, more excited than that, depending on what you do with it.” And in his case, there was a lot Dutch’s could be a front for. It certainly was a front for every business he had going on.

‎

“Ah.” He had no idea who owned what business these days. Not that he ever really did, though his grandfather would probably be more privy to these sorts of things. He wonders why George never tried to venture into acquiring ownership it before Mr. Chanda could. Or maybe that’s what all the secret meetings are for? “Having to be around drunk people in a town like this should be... interesting, for sure.” It’s somewhat of a passive concurrence that he offers. Personally, there are far more interesting things he can think of when it comes to Pleasance, but he’s not at liberty to talk about it. Not right now, not with him. “Must hear a lot of stories.”

[xslater]

𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐮.

Ajita wiggled their eyebrows. “Thank you.” They nocked an eyebrow as they waited for the waiter, but already agreed that maybe, maybe they could share their own view along those her mother had figured out with her friends. They ordered themselves a coffee. “Hmmm, I don’t know. A lot of people are saying it’s a prank, but it doesn’t feel like a prank. Other people are saying it all happened by accident, but I don’t think so either. So… I think it’s a promotional stunt. It’s almost Halloween, this might get some traction, and then my parent’s will have their hands full.”

He holds off on ordering another refill for his coffee. He really shouldn’t have any more - the caffeine, to no one’s surprise, has probably done him a lot more damage than good. “Did you just kinda-sorta admit that maybe your parents have something to do with this?” He narrows his eyes at them, but the words themselves carry no genuine traction. The Tannus wouldn’t do something like that… would they? “I mean, okay, that kinda makes sense, but between you and me, I really don’t want any more people comin’ in. S’good for business and all, sure, but do we really need more outsiders to visit just so they can go ghost hunting for clout?”

And maybe he’s a little bitter - his family’s name is getting dragged through the mud what with all the conspiracies surrounding the role his grandfather and his great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather plays in town and, in extension, the legends within it - but there has to be a fine line between promoting tourism and inviting outside trouble… right?

[xslater]

𝐊𝐉 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄.

KJ narrowed his eyes, giving the usual grunt he used to convey annoyance or dismissiveness. “Okay, man, you workin’ here and me workin’ here are not the same thing.” This came pointedly, an eyebrow raising. And with that, he clicked his tongue, letting the topic go. But even as a teenager, KJ had harbored an obvious bitterness about George Alby. Youthful idealism, he imagined, had at one time allowed him to look at Jordan as separate from it all. The guy was his friend, distinct from his lineage. But now, an Alby was an Alby, and KJ could not help but take any attempts at drawing parallels between the two of them as condescension. “This isn’t the scary boat man façade. You gotta tip me for that. This is, you know, me just…bein’ practical and to-the-point and safe. Salt of the earth or whatever.” These were perhaps rebranding words he was testing out.

As Jordan continued, though, he shook his head. “She’s not my type.” He replied flatly. “Look, Grace is fine and all, but…people like her invited me to things like that when we were kids to make fun of me.” He crossed his arms, knitting his brow, expression softening. “You haven’t heard? People’s phones been ringin’ off the hook all over town. I had to unplug my landline. Kept me up all night.” KJ treaded this topic lightly; he had been willing to assume the calls were meant for him specifically until word starting spreading about the extent of the situation.

‎

It’s the price of being an Alby, he thinks, when KJ pointedly makes a distinction between the two of them. He doesn’t remember his friend letting his name get in the way of their friendship - that certainly never stopped them from recklessly trekking through Southwood Forest in search of some hidden treasure, in spite of KJ’s futile protests of course, or sneaking beers at the Spotlight to watch campy b-movies - but now it’s like it’s all there is. In a big flashing neon sign, begging to be noticed or at the very least referenced to in all their conversations. And here Jordan thought spending 15 years away from the place would’ve distanced himself from his grandfather’s legacy somehow. Probably doesn’t help that the old man gave him a job while KJ had to apply for it, though.

He decides it’s best to keep these thoughts to himself, for now, and turns to humor to dillute those comments. As he often does. “I think you’re just salty on earth, honestly.” He means this with love and a smile to show for. “She’s fine fine,” Jordan insists. “And people can change, you know. If it makes you feel any better, I think having to answer phone calls and make reservations for people for a living really humbled her.” And speaking of phone calls... “Oh, yeah. That. Yeah, I was out of town, had to take care of something for Pop. Can’t believe I missed that, though, damn...” Another drag. “So what did yours say?”

[xslater]

CLOSED STARTER FOR @averiealbyslater​ averie’s house, 7pm.

Averie never has to ask twice for Jordan to come over and babysit for her whenever she has to work late or do single mom things on a Saturday night. His schedule is a lot more flexible than hers and doesn’t require him to be at the hotel for the entire working day.

And he really does enjoy spending time with his niece and nephew despite knowing that he probably isn’t dad material to any extent. He’d long since resigned himself to the role of cool, somewhat detached uncle who’s your go-to for all things fun that have nothing to do with actually raising children to be upstanding citizens. 

Like sitting on the floor in front of the TV watching Carmen Sandigeo, eating the marshmallows out of a Lucky Charms box while he braids Drew’s hair. Which is exactly how Averie finds them.

“Hey, sis...” Jordan greets Averie distractedly as he focuses on getting the braids nice and tight. “How was work?”

[xslater]

CLOSED STARTER FOR @sheriffq​ starts at q’s front door, 2am.

Jordan was raised right. So of course he tried calling Q before driving over to his place to bang incessantly at his door. Duh.

“Q! Sheriff! Please, open up, it’s me, it’s Jordan, it’s important!” 

[xslater]

𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐡𝐧.

THE MYSTERY | on october 4, at 11:37pm, a number of people receive mysterious phone calls from a distressed male voice. henrietta’s assigned herself to the case, effective immediately. THE LOCATION | z’s arcade and diner THE CAST | henrietta sohn & all! — The pinball machine rang, rattled and sang as she worked it over with her jabs. On the tips of her toes, Henrietta bashed the heel of her hand into the button along the side repeatedly, flicking the ball in short bursts to keep it afloat during fever time. Her jaw was set, her eyes focused tight on the flow of the ball, rather than the sparkling lights and caterwaul of the All Hallows Scream machine - brought in special, she’d thought, for the month of October. At her feet, a ragged canvas backpack sat, partially opened, a series of spiral-bound notebooks and library books thrown inside along a bottled water.

Even with the machine flickering and rattling like it did, her attention wavered not in the slightest. Not until her hand cramped, and she was forced to relinquish her grasp on the edge of the game with a faint curse. “Done,” she threw her hands up and allowed the ball to tumble down the side of the field, the game finishing with an escalating ring and a tinny, spooky-sounding cackle.

Her soft red hair stuck to the temples of her head, shoved aside by the backs of her fingers as she gathered her things and turned around finally, ready to focus and prepared to tackle the issue at hand: “Hey,” the woman, dressed in a black tee and grey plaid thrown around her waist, made to draw out a squat, small moleskin and a thick pen. Not an electronic piece, but one that would help her.

“ – have you received any calls you’d call ‘abnormal’, lately?” She asked the nearest individual in the room, clicking the pen the same as her tongue. “Don’t worry, I’m not singling you out, I’m going around town asking everyone the same thing.”

‎

Very few things tend to hold Jordan’s attention as well as games do. Video games, board games, arcade games... He likes to think he’s pretty good at them, too, if the stack of tickets he proudly has sticking out of his backpack ( on purpose ) are anything to go by.

But when he hears the conversation from behind him, he’s quick to abandon the game, head nearly doing a 180-degree turn like a raccoon caught nibbling a discarded chicken leg from the trash bin.

“I’d like to wager that it has something to do with that big explosion near Death Ranch the same night,” he chimes in with a smirk. The person the ginger was interviewing rolls their eyes and turns to leave, pegging the conversation to not be of that much importance to stick around. “You got that in your notes?” Jordan pointedly brings his gaze downwards to the little pad she has in her hands.