THOROUGH FUCKING SHAME

x

“It’s a small place... Trulia told me it has a great walking score.” How fucking lame, Elliott. Who the fuck said that as a talking point? Him apparently. Elliott was wondering when he became the hipster dad, but apparently age and shock do crazy things. Not that he wasn’t happy to have her so close after so long, but it wasn’t expected. “Oh, no, well, yes, I was out of smokes and y’know... Nasty habits.” He lets out a nervous laugh, but this nasty habit replaced other nasty habits, but no one needed to have that conversation. However, he hoped it was a deterrent, normally he was seen running or looking more like what he assumed a productive member of society looked like. “Sorry, I’m not tryin’ to keep you, if you wanna be on your way?” But he’d keep her company if she wanted, hell, he’d follow her back out to the lake if she asked. But that was desperate, and he wasn’t prepared to say that. 

x

Recognition crosses his face, expression changing from suspicious to soft, eyes widening a bit as he came face to face with his current favorite stranger. Elliott is quick to billow the next plume of smoke falling from his lips away from her, not wanting to offend the woman he’d only seen across the water. “Decided to walk somewhere else today, huh?” He asks, trying to keep his own tone soft and voice hushed, afraid to draw attention now that they were actually within feet of each other. God forbid they both die upon finally meeting. 

He didn’t want to be a diva, he didn’t. That behavior went against everything he believed in, every ideal he’d based his whole life and career on. But now he was going on a week without any pain meds, without anything injectables, blood clearing from anything but nicotine and holy shit was he losing it. Which brings him to his current critical meltdown; why is the Pepsi always flat. Did no one know how to change it out? Shit he’d go do it himself if it meant he’d get that sweet relief of a sugar rush. Instead, he stews, sipping on the seemingly flat soda until he can’t take it anymore. “Can I ask you somethin’? Will you, will you taste this for me and tell me if it’s flat or not?” He asks, reaching across the bar and grabbing a straw for Julia. 

x

“Not at all, my friend.” He drawled out, shaking his head, scooting over to make room for his new found company on the skinny ledge. “That’s unfortunate, though, I don’t know if this place has gas cans, barely had any smokes stocked.” It might not seem like a big deal, but the gas station was a life line some nights, so it was pretty unfortunate right now, especially in Danny’s time of need. Elliott lets out a low chuckle, giving a thoughtful nod at the idea of not owning a car. “I feel like around here you don’t really need one? Most things are close enough unless you’re tryin’ to get out to the farms.” He muses, shaking his head at Danny’s request and sliding the carton and lighter his way. “Help yourself.” He exhales, smoke releasing from his lungs, pausing for another moment before speaking again. “Be cool if this place had a bus system, though, that would probably be super helpful for a lot of folk.”

x

Elliott listens as she speaks, finding an odd comfort in the thought of the destruction. What better way to start everything over? Maybe take that psycho out with it. “Yeah? Were you far away or were you hiding in a basement?” He asked, genuinely curious. He’d never taken part in natural disasters, not since Katrina, and he’d been lucky enough to survive with only the lingering taste of salt water on his tongue. Part of him wants to stay and talk to her, their own little corner of the city, blanketed and hidden by the bad weather, but if it does turn ugly, they might want to be closer to shelter. “We can go somewhere, it might downpour if we’re lucky.”

x

“Well then it’s still fitting, call my sisters kid all the time.” When they spoke, he should add on, but he keeps that to himself. No one wants to get into the depressing history of the Love family dynamics. Elliott actually laughs at the idea she tosses across to him, shaking his head a bit and playing a couple keys on the piano. “Oh yeah, I’d be an excellent mouth piece, probably end up spewing whatever garbage the police or government decides is fact.” He snorts at the concept, shaking his head a bit before turning back to Phoebe. That was probably a little bitter, but he didn’t feel like he was wrong. “I promise, nothing’s gonna get anyone else here. People are on high alert, it would be stupid to do anything right now.”

“that’s how it was, like, every sunday when we’d go to my grandmas, makes sense.” every sunday after church, if her dad was there or not, sofia would make it to her grandma’s house and fill herself up with conchas. it was a sense of love and support, something that she didn’t receive that much at home. “i get it, if i could bake i’d do the same..” she noted before breaking off a piece of the bread and taking a small bite, “thank you.”

x

He hums in response to her own memory of gathering around the dinner table, scrounging for any sense of love or support. He supposed his was different, after all, he didn’t know Sofia well, but he knew she wasn’t Old Money. Not like his family, but the sentiment of yearning for comfort was all the same. “Of course. Food is love, right?” He muses, cutting himself a piece and taking it in. A little too much banana, definitely a little doughy, but it wasn’t horrid. At least, not in his humble opinion, being a connoisseur of gas station burritos. “How are you holding up, though?”

SHIT I’M S A D

A playlist cranked up to 12 in Elliott’s apartment. 

The pack of smokes makes a thud against his wrist and echoes into the night. He pulls one from the carton and lights it up, inhaling deeply and looking off into the quiet of the night. And it was quiet. If he was being honest, Elliott couldn’t think of anything he hated more than silence, but this town seemed to envelope him in it even prior to the vigil. Though, he assumed, the quiet was part of the reason for sending him here, out of the limelight and into more tradition. What a joke. He laughs at the thought, taking in another drag as he sits on the brick window ledge, gaze going over to a silhouette emerging from the dark street. Weird town. But every podcast he’s listened to says you’re less likely to die if you greet someone, so that’s what he does. “Howdy, howdy.”

after the vigil all sofia wanted to do was escape. escape the town, escape from her head, escape from everything around her. normally, she probably would’ve slipped into a vice, head into work, and just shut everything out for a few days. this though? she couldn’t tune out. sitting at the table with her head in her hand, the girl was quick to space out, his voice bringing her back with the smell of banana bread. “better than i could do..” she offered before shifting in her seat, knowing she wasn’t going to eat anything. “since when can you bake?”

x

Food had been a center piece during his life, it was probably the only thing that brought his family together and it was all he could think to offer right now. Even if it was probably doughy in the middle and a little burned on the bottom. “Since... Today apparently.” Elliott shrugged, turning off the oven and getting down a couple small plates. “My Grans used to make us treats and it, y’know, didn’t fix anything but it was indeed a comfort.” He shrugged. “Figured it was worth a shot given recent events.”

x

Elliott knew enough of those words, having had them tossed his way once or ten times by ex lovers, to know they weren’t good. Right now, his brain couldn’t connect the dots well enough to find the translation, but he could def see the dots, so he just nodded at her response. “So... I can’t help with that, but I can...” Eyes go off to the corner, lips pressing together as he fought for something he could offer her in a time of crisis. “I can buy you a drink or... I mean,” He leans in to whisper. “The Devils Lettuce, if that’ll help ease any of the stress.”

x

“I’m literally a decade older than you.” He poked back, giving her a gentle smile in return. Elliott nodded at her honesty, swallowing hard as he chose his words carefully. “I think what happened to Jade was awful. And I feel very sorry for those closest to her and her loved ones.” He started, trying his best not to sound insensitive. “But I also think someone is taking advantage of the situation, maybe using it to try and blackmail or defame others and I personally don’t think whoever this Shadow person is should be getting any attention... So... I’m not going to give it my time or energy.”

Location: Hidehill high school Open starter: @hidehillstart​​ 

Lucia couldn’t make head or tails of the situation. She didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that her grandparents stories were turning into her new reality. Looking back at her phone screen, she reread the messages The Shadow had sent - clinging to their every word. They now held the clue to unravel the mystery that the town was being shrouded upon. Without looking up, she addressed the nearest person. “Do you think it’s true?” She asked hoping they could shed some light on this tragedy. “That her death could’ve been prevented so easily? Has the police truly been aware of the threats all along?” Her blood ran cold at the thought that it could’ve been her sister in that casket. “Are they really back?”

x

Truthfully, Elliott had gone mostly out of respect for Jade and those closest to her. He didn’t really know her, only a hand full of nights or weekends spent buying shots or talking about music and art, but nothing other than surface level conversation. In his opinion, this all seemed a little too small town, you’d never see this in the city, but he figured small town folk got bored. “What do you mean back?” He asks, looking down at Lucia. She was the first familiar face he saw and clung onto her so he didn’t stick out so much.