RISEN, HELL.

WHAT IS UP, MY DUDES ?                  the name’s mads. short for mads mikkelsen’s #1 fan and lover —— alternatively amanda. you can call me whatever you want, though. or anytime :wink: i am twenty - three years young, and i go by she / them pronouns. my favorite movie franchise is scream and i think machine gun kelly is the best thing since sliced bread. but that’s enough about me … so, click the      READ MORE     below for a brief introduction to my oc’s ! 

“oh man.. that’s just weird.” he sniffles, “you see, it’s usually the cold pizza that gets me.” pleasantly surprised with the dry humor shot back at him, dom jumped out of the dumpster. hands searching his pockets, and finding the crushed packet of cigarettes. “wolfgang? that’s cute, was your parents hippies or something?” he mumbles the last few words as a bent cigarette is pushed between his lips. “i’m dominic the dumpster boy, i’d shake your hand but i don’t think you would want to.” flicking his lighter he takes a deep drag, and blows the smoke politely away. sizing up the other, brows slightly raised. 

running on fumes, what most would criticise about wolfgang baek is watered down :   a motor - mouth successfully cogged by caffeine withdrawals and a rumbling stomach. yet it persists. where the average person would’ve left, heading into the solace of their local diner, he doesn’t.

             ❛     that’s a first. people usually go straight to pretentious. like, uh — mozart ‘n shit, mostly. you know, real upper - class white folk bullshit.     ❜        

the origin of his name is withheld if only by embarrassment rather than self - made mystery. was he to rehash the tale, a name - drop was inevitable. and if he was to say too much, then whatever sliver of individuality he clung to would slip through his fingers. like it always did. like it’d continue to do.

teddy might not be boring, but … okay, well, maybe teddy was boring. not through any fault of personalty: once he was on one of the adventures sawyer seemed inclined to drag him on when dylan was unavailable for antics he wouldn’t approve of — he did have fun. but years of bullying in his elementary years, and a healthy combination of that and being entirely ignored throughout teenage ones hadn’t given him the best sense of adolescent caution-meet-wind. nights spent watching movies with his mom or sawyer had made teddy a little less prone to anything remotely adventurous, and he didn’t mind that.    “   you know m-me so well,   ”   he beamed, shifting to get a better look at sawyer’s paper. ignoring sawyer’s sentiments of outline remaining vague,  he rubbed his hands together in preparation, despite NOT being the one actually writing anything down.  “   we, uh, c-can make a ranked list. of all the p-places we want to go. so we know priority.   ”   he pauses, trying to take sawyer’s wants into account, tone tentative.   “   …   a loose p-priority.   ”

what theodore larsen offered was FAMILIARITY, and comfort which it naturally included. the two might oftentimes be on different wavelengths but they’d always meet. if not right away then somewhere up the road. even without adjustments made by either party, sawyer kinney and theodore larsen were destined to be together. and with her family disregarded, teddy was the closest thing she had to home.  

         in all his life, eden has never been normal. there are those that ignore the strange happenings, the odd circumstances, and pretend that it’s the same kind of town that they would find anywhere else… but that doesn’t make it true. terry knows this all too well. has for the last fifty-odd years. expecting the unexpected is all but instinct, now. but that doesn’t change the fact that her reaction is, in all respects, unusual.

         ❝ don’t think there’s a place around here that isn’t in violation of that, ❞  he interjects politely, gaunt face pulled into a thin ( but grateful ) smile as she stoops down to pick up his missing appendage. he notices, but isn’t surprised, at the hesitation. it isn’t some stupid, rubbery decoy you can get at any old halloween store.

         rotten cogs turn in his head, coming to the conclusion that she’s right. ❝ aw, hell, ❞ he pauses to take the offending mound of flesh back, the fingers wiggling as if by their own accord. to get the blood flowing, he would say, if it hadn’t coagulated decades ago. ❝ i never think of the fun things t’say until after i’ve already said shit. ❞ another pause. ❝ thanks for the help, by the way. appreciate it. ❞

a childhood, brutal and out of the ordinary, was to thank for her apathy. muriel had lost her wits long before eden, and been desensitised eons before then. though that did not rid her of INTRIGUE. no matter how many freaks she crossed paths with, she never did manage to muster the expected disinterest.

             ❛     one would think if you habitually lost your bits, that you’d be more well - versed in the possible puns.     ❜             she starts, palm wiped down on jeans post their laundry due date.

it was not as if she was, either. a master of nothing, let alone puns. yet there’s a certain expectation placed on those more … peculiar. if she were to wake up every night and howl at the moon, surely she’d have some jokes up her sleeve about the fact. another hypocritical way of thinking as own trauma is pushed down :   never addressed nor acknowledged, let alone joked about. 

         what, some poor lady not leaping at the chance to spend time with him? now this is uncharted territory. okay, not really. it’s not entirely unexpected. but it does put just that much extra pressure on to be convincing. ❝ a what? that some kind of t.v show reference? ❞ maybe this bundy guy stars on a house-flipping channel. connor doesn’t watch those. regardless, the statement is quickly lost from his mind.

        ❝ nah, only if i’m really in the mood for company, ❞ he says with a shrug of his shoulder, his demeanor nonchalant. that’s really what he’s going for, here. nonthreatening. ❝ offer’s still open, though.i really do have a job that needs doing, and you know, it’s so boring doing it all by myself. ❞ a pause. ❝ name’s connor, by the way. i work at the bar. ❞ maybe it’s better to have a name to the interviewer.

explaining the reference seemed more work than it was worth, and so she doesn’t. even if his ignorance is startling, earning itself a deep wrinkle between defined brows. maybe it made him less of a contender to be a serial killer. or more. merle was undecided on the matter.

              ❛     you do realise that all you’re offering here is warm beer. and the possibility of being hack - sawed to death.     ❜

okay, he was not out the running. not yet at least. although plenty of opportunities to disprove himself a basement - dweller would present themselves if he were to continue. she had a knack for these things… completely independent of her netflix history, entirely dependent on the psych classes attended.

of  all  the  very  distinctively  human  activities  out  there,  small  talk  might  just  be  one  of  marie’s  least  favorites.  for  one,  it  always  happens  so.  damn.  slowly.  like,  a  fifteen  minute  conversation  about  the  weather  of  all  things?  whack.  secondly,  at  this  point,  she’s  heard  every  possible  iteration  of  it.  but  this  was  all  something  she  made  peace  with  decades  ago  after  realizing  it  was  also  the  quickest  way  to  gain  trust  from  a  stranger.  she  scrunched  her  eyebrows,  a  look  of  disgust  as  she  imagined  the  scene.  “   nooo, not vomit bathroom. those are the worst.   ”  she  shook  her  head,  acting  as  if  she’s  even  used  a  bathroom  since  her  vampire  tenure.  she  took  another  sip  from  the  cup  and  tossed  it  to  the  side.  bleh.  “   anyway, don’t scream.   ”  she  locked  the  other’s  gaze,  an  attempt  to  glamour  the  other  as  she  leaned  into  the  other’s  neck  and  clicked  her  fangs  out,  sinking  them  into  the  flesh.  wait  a  minute.

sawyer is trusting. too. as a child, the warning of   STRANGER DANGER   fell on deaf ears. in direct contrast she sought out new relations. whether it be on the playground or in the grocery line queue. unaffected by adult supervision, as well as the lack thereof. sawyer liked people. sawyer trusted people. stupidly, naively, recklessly.

                 ❛     —— OW !     ❜                 she whines, palms flat against the stranger’s shoulders as sawyer gives the   stranger   a firm, albeit fatigued, shove. when back on her feet, her neck throbs. and instinct brings pressure to the injury :   a shaky hand, stained red.

too drunk to think and too drunk to stand, sawyer wobbles backwards in disbelief. the image now, something akin to   BAMBI ON ICE ——   knees threatening to buckle beneath her weight, eyes wide with horror.

❛❛ Oh yeah? ❜❜ Tone is taunting as Dylan is just a breath away from repeating the not really forbidden  ’ I DARE YOU TO , motto. ❛❛ What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done? ❜❜ Eyes light up with fervor in anticipation for a great story. While the two have known each other for some time now, it’s a wonder how they haven’t managed to get into much trouble — given their tendency to feed off each other’s recklessness. Dylan manages a scoff, followed by a roll of her eyes, though she amuses the sentiment. ❛❛ I don’t know which one I am. I never really got into that kind of thing. ❜❜ She admits, as her appreciation for the franchise never extended past watching the movies. ❛❛ Maybe I’m a huff puff…or whatever you call it. ❜❜

THE CRAZIEST OR THE STUPIDEST … indistinguishable when placed side by side, and heavily intertwined in the the track record of sawyer kinney. which was not an admittance to stupidity on her part. rather recklessness. 

              ❛     i don’t know.     ❜             

her siblings put on the stand and they’d recite stories from childhood to preteens. carson would be able to continue onwards, reaching a dead end at sophomore year. teddy filling in the blanks since. and none would come to an agreement.

              ❛     when i was sixteen, i jumped from the cafeteria roof. this guy was supposed to catch me, and he did. but i also … managed to break his arm.     ❜              a confession spoken with a wince, the clear snap of bone still fresh in memory. 

there’d been a multitude of apologies on the way to the emergency room and none of them accepted. it wasn’t her fault, he’d assured, far too fascinated by his brand - new cast to attend her guilt fest.

              ❛     —— a hufflepuff ? no. no way. with all the crazy stunts you’ve pulled … you, baby girl, you too are a gryffindor. through and through.     ❜

         ❝ hate t’bother you, really, ❞ he starts, sidling up next to the person in question; ❝ but i dropped something of mine and you’re ‘bout to step on it. ❞ offering a sheepish smile, terry, gestures lamely to the joke of a hand he’s got making a place for itself on the floor. embarrassing, really. ❝ would y’mind grabbing it for me? ❞

fluorescents flicker a sickly green, adding yet another layer of inedibility to already inedible food. merle wasn’t a fussy eater, though. and if fried chicken was etched onto the menu with a PERMANENT MARKER, despite an abundance of vegan propaganda consumed, unflattering lighting was not a contender. a severed hand on the floor, however …

             ❛     that’s a positive health code violation right there.     ❜            a bizarre reaction to a bizarre situation. the eden classic. 

a bag of chips stuck under her arm, she kneels down. was she supposed to grab it at the wrist or the fingers ? surely the former would prove the ickiest of options yet it seemed childish to lift it by its pinky. 

             ❛     would i mind— not … could you give me a hand ?     ❜            

another second of contemplation, and she opts to the smack middle :   palm against palm, as if shaking hands with thing from the addams family.

         ❝ hey, you! ❞ a good a start as any to a conversation, right? ❝ you look strong enough. what do you say to helping me out with some landscaping? i’ve got beer and some extra cash, if that sweetens the deal. ❞ a pause. ❝ i figure there’s nothing else to do around here, and i’ve been itching for a nice pond. ❞

so, she’s bored. and she’s got nothing better to do. it did not warrant an unsolicited job interview in the shape of your average, outdated cat - call. for all he knew … merle was a busy - body, fully occupied by things and stuff and not getting axe murdered.

             ❛     sounds like a bundy original.     ❜             could’ve kept walking, stafford. yet converse are planted on pavement and her laptop - bag is slung over her shoulder, merle lingering in a pose of faux importance. might have nuclear codes in this thing, buddy.

               ❛     do you take all your ladies to secondary locations?     ❜