* AFTER / DARK !

HER BODY HAD PRACTICALLY LAID ACROSS THE BAR so that she could continue to look at the photographs from the tilted perspective of where they were in Dusty's hands, unable to pass up any opportunity to relive the proposal that, overall, couldn't have gone better, except for the thirty seconds where an affirmative response had yet to be given and the queenpin had convinced herself it was a negative over just how off-guard she had managed to catch her now fiancé. The grin that had already been painted on her face from the simple re-viewing of photographs she had already tirelessly flipped through on many occasions since they were developed, the pages in the travel book that were dedicated to Alaska having many different trips to have photos stuck into them of, but even still, that didn't stop her from also making sure to shove one from that day in there, too, seeing it as just as important to the story of their relationship as were any of the other successful or...less successful trips they had taken over the years, grew at the provided compliments. "A lil' more fairytale than I ever thought I was gonna get to have." Collecting the stack of Polaroids back, one thumb brushed over the top one, a thoughtless action that proved still how unbelievable the entire shift in the relationship to a new level, at least title-wise was, despite everything. "I think I've managed to make a lotta shit choices in life, but this ain't one of 'em. And I know that for a fact." Regrets were practically stitched into her as much as the blood pumping through her veins was, but once she had slid the ring into Cyrek's finger, she knew deep in her core she never wanted to know a reason it would ever come off again. They were each other's person, in every sense of being best friends as a dumb teenager and dumb(er) adults to the romantic relationship that was as close to perfection as any one could possibly be. Her eyes were still glued to the pictures when the topic of her sister was brought up, a confliction of emotion crossing her face. "She would've been eating up all the wedding planning stuff, I know that's for sure." And would've done so a lot more seamlessly than Stella would ever be capable of, especially considering just how lost she would be without Aurelia's aid. "Probably be pissed as hell if I managed to beat her down the aisle, too, though I feel like if she wanted a ring, she wouldn't have waited five years before blowing up 'bout not having one." It wouldn't have shocked the younger Matthews to figure out there were already wedding bells going off in her sister's head, especially when she discovered her pregnancy with Joelle. Though, those type of topics weren't exactly ones at the top of Stella's mind back then, and which only made it even more bitter that she was the one person the hellcat wanted to talk about it with now, despite how supportive her friends had been. There was an Isabelle-shaped hole in her life that no one or nothing could ever fill. "I do. Think I would've thought a regular diamond was too boring or cookie cutter, y'know?" Eyes dropped to appreciate the stone in question, fingers flexing under the jewelry as they did any time she needed to bring it back into her own view. "You know anything about alexandrite? I don't know shit about any kind of gem, don't they all got stuff they symbolize? If it's something that's real shitty, just lie to me and make up something better, I won't know the difference anyway." The mirth that had crawled onto her expression with her deadpanned joke was shaken away when she looked back at the radio host. "I'm kidding, I wanna know what it really means. Knowing Cy, it's probably something real cute that I'm just oblivious to."

How absolutely and arrantly enamored she was with the photographs of her engagement was incredibly heart-warming, for even as a child, Stella had taken to anger and holding grudges defter than any trills of happiness; by contrast, she was practically a foghorn blaring through the night across the Atlantic when she was spelling out the word fairytale that he wouldn't have previously expected to jump off her tongue, either. "Wow, and you didn't even believe in that kind of stuff when I was babysittin' you. He must really be a keeper," Dustin said, hands sweeping over the bar top in front of him and linking together respectfully, eyes darting back to the stack of pictures that she continued to dote on after his eyes were no longer trained on them, musing sagely, "You really love 'im, huh?" That kind of devotion was uniquely rare, in the rearview window of his life choices — there were times he had to wonder if it had been founded into his own relationship at all when it turned to silt and slipped through the gaps of his fingers, leaving him to pack up a yellow house he'd outgrown in Bellflower and furniture that he didn't expect he would have any use for other than donating. However, the blonde-highlighted brunette didn't need to be told that what she had discovered from the rubble of her past mistakes was special, and that he was assured of when he ogled the bright lights reflecting in her hazel eyes as she spoke with naught but ecstasy of her certainty. "Good. If you're not goin' into marriage with any apprehensions, then I think you've got nothin' to worry about. I'll wish you all the happiness and good will that you deserve."

The effortless comeuppance of Isabelle into their conversation was not surprising; naturally, the blonde was the first on both of their minds as her big day stretched out its arms to welcome her. Though he hadn't experienced the loss of a sibling, he could comprehend the melancholy echo she must be feeling in pangs, as he had when he wished he had his parents to look to for advice when the sails of his marital bliss strayed into the rockies. "She would be nothing but happy for you, Stella," he said wistfully, doe eyes lifting to search her expression, and tentatively, a hand outstretched to wrap around her forearm, his spindly fingers stiff and unmalleable until he was able to loosen them away and withdraw from her personal bubble after granting her an earnest squeeze, "Don't forget that the people that love you only want what will make you happy. You've found real happiness now. People always think that they have it when it's artificial. Why don't you wear somethin' of hers to your weddin', and it'll feel a little more like she's there with you?" Toying with a napkin at the bar, he dragged the drink he had ordered closer, imbibing generously upon it to avoid any true affliction on his cognizance.

ZELIHA'S TOP PRIORITY WOULD ALWAYS BE THEIR PODCAST. Their friends knew this, the few members of their family they still spoke to knew this, and the joke could be made that the investigator was married to their job and would never wed anyone else as they were so loyally devoted to it above all else. Upset enough with the latest published newspaper, and that stupid Steve on the radio being able to report on the arrest before themselves, they had resorted to extreme, and petty, measures to station outside of the office and intervene anyone who could possibly be going to give a quote to the paper instead of their podcast, the rightful broadcaster of all that was going on in Anchorage, at least in their chocolate hues. When a passerby who looked as if they could have possibly been on their way to entering the office of their enemy appeared, they eagerly pounced, despite the possibility of it being presumptive. "You wouldn't happen to have any opinion on the recent arrest that was announced, would you?" Unlike official avenues of reporting, there was no need for Zeliha to stay partial nor point their questioning in a leading direction. "Crazy we were shown such a sketch for weeks just for it to be her daughter. Do you think the rumors about it being a false arrest could hold any weight?"

He was a tad surprised by the other's peculiar explanation for his presence in the radio station — on instinct, he bit into his lower lip and his hands disappeared underneath the table — it was no act of secrecy as he was taken back, and quickly throwing up his defenses, after years of manipulation by his ex-partner's higher-ups in the entertainment industry and being thrown around by press following his parents' homicides as if he and his siblings were a heap of chewtoys to be passed about. "Oh, I mean... if you're just a resident, I suggest checking out the local newspaper. Or maybe you can call in with one of the journalists. I'm not sure. I really... don't know much more about the murder than the next person." Besides having a personal relationship, and former friendship, and a once-upon-a-time one-night stand with the former therapist in the hot seat, he didn't have any leg to stand on, or stones to throw. It was about as odd, and messy, as the befuddling case he'd lost his parents to. Now alert, he sat upright, the pen falling from his grasp when his dystonia stiffened his fingers and hitting the floor with a dull thud that reverberated through the room as its sole two occupants.

Dustin hadn't realized how... empty it was, without his colleagues, or without... Blue.

"I THOUGHT THAT WAS JUST A RUMOR," Her wide eyes crinkled when such a video was mentioned, so much happening in the small town since the last she heard of it that Dorothy couldn't recall it came from an official report like the news or was being passed around the gym she regularly attended in whispers. As the oldest of the family called her out on her preferences, her shoulders shrugged in a bit of noncommittal answer. "I don't really think so? But don't they say when you're already worried or scared that that's why people like horror, 'cause it gives you something to be afraid of instead of what you're actually afraid of." Wherever she recalled that theory from wasn't at the tip of her tongue, either, and as she recounted it, she lost any confidence in it actually holding credibility as, like most ideas, it sounded even stupider when spoken aloud in her voice. "Sounds pretty fun that you guys get to have so many sleepovers all the time. I wish Val and I could do that, but I think the carnival wouldn't like it if we were up all night before show or practice days." Alas, that was the price to pay in the career of performers, especially going into the business with family. Legs carrying her towards the comedy section, they stopped short until Dusty was following along with. "I guess I could go for something funny. Isn't that one of your favorites? You can join in on my movie night, if you want. Then we can go get a bunch of snacks after here."

Dustin didn't mind the frequent company of his siblings; actually, he hadn't taken notice of the loneliness that had burrowed its way inside of him and festered a giant hole within until he saw his siblings more. Watching Dorothy and Valerie toss each other around at the circus wrought a nostalgia flowering that made him long for days long gone, where the four of them would curl up around the bonfire with their hot meal after the suppertime bell and chat about everything and nothing. Childhood was a simpler time, and it went by too amply for his liking after their parents were gone. Having a baby of his own practically made him miss out on their growing up, especially when his sister had signed to an entertainment agency. In the wake of a divorce, he wished things were different — had turned out differently. Much as he'd never regret Starfox, or Crash happily sucking on a frozen teething ring in his lap, and the separation from Sera had eventually become mutually amicable, there was an ilk of regret espoused. It felt like he had partially failed and fallen on his face, and now he was figuring out how to stand on his own two feet again. ( More to the point, he shouldn't really be living alone; he suspected that was why Renata spent a gross amount of time flapping around him, more than she had to chase after his toddler, these days. ) "The only thing out there's a Yeti and some shapeshifters," he poked a finger into his younger brother's side, "And if you keep looking out the window, one of 'em is gonna come right up to it and you're gonna find 'em playin' peekaboo with you when you get up to use my icemaker at midnight." Spindly, crooked fingers latched onto Addison's shoulder, mimicking taking a bite out of it, eliciting a gurgle of laughter from Crash and a shriek of, "RAAAWR, dinosaur!!" Close enough.

What started out on an unexpected discovery, running into them with flyers in hand detailing a missing godparent, had been heaven sent, or whatever adjacent he could pair with his lifelong passion for astronomy. The past few years had been admittedly lonely; as gregarious as Dustin was, there was hardly any time or pennies to exchange and grind into battery acid to insert himself into social situations. Outside the copacetic circle he'd spanned for himself with a dungeons-and-dragons campaign and old friends, his focus on academics had tended to blindside him to stop and take in the world. But, gradually, he was dipping his toes into the waters and testing them out, as he had been by peeking his head around Blue's doorframe for the past couple of months — what started out as a thank you for their kindness in search widened its berth. Bringing Ganon into the room without further ado and setting the paper fast food bag on her desk as an extension of an olive branch, he smiled kindly at her — classmates in undergrad had been an extension of his tenuous schooling, regarding him as a bit of a clown and a misfit, with his gummy grin and doe eyes and a joke up his sleeve. Blue had never bid him to feel quite so self-conscious as other classmates, or eventual professors that admonished his southern roots to lacking refinery. "Stay," he commanded the shepherd, tugging a chair across the room from one of the desks to seat himself in her office. "Hey you," he greeted with an extra dollop of candor, gesturing for them to rifle through the bag first, "Why don't you take a break? The dissertation's not gonna grow legs." Someone should probably tell him that about his own.

WITH EACH AND EVERY NEW MYSTERY THAT ENVELOPED the town, Dorothy's already oversized and excessively worked nerves would grow, unable to stop herself from allowing the details reported on the nightly news to creep into her everyday thoughts until they warped into something even more spine-chilling. The words beast of a man had found a way of rewinding over in her head, and wandering into the movie rental store in search of a distraction in the shape of a VHS was a direct result. Twirling a lock of red hair around her finger as her eyes perused the options, a grimace crossed her expression when they landed on Ginger Snaps and her gaze quickly averted to the next person closest. "Not exactly the best time for a werewolf movie, is it? Or maybe any type of horror one..." The grimace on her face was then a product of how embarrassing she found her own words, as it could only be her self criticism over her social skills that could successfully divert her focus. Taking advantage of the attention she had already gathered, she asked, "Can you recommend a good movie? Maybe one that really pulls you so you can't think about anything else?"

who: anyone ( assume connections ! ) where: the town park when: jan 23 ; here lies mother event starter cap: ( 0 / 4 )

you’d think mark would have grown numb to the macabre ad nauseam  of his town’s grim tales by now, but no amount of time could erode the sharp sting of addisorn’s absence. it lingered, raw and unresolved, a wound that refused to close. the void they left behind was a heartache—taken, yes, but by whom or what? that was the unbearable weight, the unanswered question that clawed at his sanity. avoiding the bleak tide of the day’s headlines had become his coping mechanism, yet the shadow of the recent murder lingered at the edges of his mind like a storm cloud refusing to dissipate.

he focused instead on the little girl laughing at the top of the slide, her giggles a fragile reprieve from the horrors that loomed just beyond the park gates. the air was heavy, the sun’s rays struggling to penetrate the weight of his unease, and though the park offered a semblance of sanctuary, it couldn’t completely banish the chill of dread.

perched on the worn swing set, its chains creaking faintly beneath his weight, mark tried to feign normalcy. his hands gripped the cool metal chains as he swayed gently, the motion both grounding and unsettling. gravel crunched behind him, the deliberate sound of approaching footsteps on it's way to the swingset snapping him from his thoughts. he didn’t turn immediately, his gaze still fixed on his daughter as she slid down into a pile of woodchips, her joy unblemished by the darkness he carried. finally, he spoke, his voice low, tinged with weariness but polite nonetheless. “i can take the bench if you don’t want to swing next to me.”

Why was it of no surprise to turn on the television and hear Josette's name announced on the news, for however many times it had been? The brittle fracture of what was once a friendship was severed more and more with the passage of time, a huge glacial rift that widened its berth as her actions attested to her inability to keep out of trouble. If it weren't enough that she had lost everything along the way, a process of grief he was all too familiar, she swatted away the hands that would have aided — and now, seeing that she would potentially face a prison sentence if they accumulated any evidence to prove that her state of unconsciousness was a lie, she was fucked. Ever the empath, Dustin's bleeding heart went out to the once-mother, especially as he carried his little boy in his arms and approached the swing made for toddlers, thinking of how it was Jungwoon's favorite activity when he was Tyche's age. Crash was not so different from his would-have-been older brother.