#4tr0phy

the lights flash, hopefully to jerk karen 'awake', as outside she sees - if she was to look outside- a car flipped, her daughter's car - formerly her own mercury grand marquis colony park, with a shambled mess of a body in clothes that look shockingly like nancy's if she looked from far away. there's pounding on the front door, a blonde with glasses, one of the lenses' cracked, with blood dripping from his side as it appears he was hit by the car before it swerved and crashed in front of the home. he's banging on the front door. a distraction. " hello? help! anyone! " the teenager is wearing clothes that are a bit dated to be a hawkins student now. " ---- please, call the police! there's been an accident, " the boy’s clothes feel wrong the longer she looks at him. it's outdated. a pale yellow button-down tucked too neatly into high-waisted, pressed slacks that end just a little too short at the ankle. argyle socks. scuffed brown loafers like they’ve been worn down from pacing an attic with a radio attached to his hand as if it was glued to it. something he wouldn't let go. a thin cardigan hangs off his shoulders, the sleeves fraying at the cuffs, darkened with blood where his side is clutched tight. his hair is parted with care, combed flat and obedient, like someone once told him that being neat was the same thing as being safe- being normal. ( my name is henry creel, i am a normal boy. ) his glasses slide crooked on his nose, one lens spiderwebbed, cutting into his cheek when he moves.

he looks young. too young. maybe fourteen. fifteen at most. the kind of boy karen would have smiled at during a pta meeting and thought, someone should look out for him.. if she cared about the children in her life. his knuckles leave wet, red smears on the white door with every knock.

" please, " he says again, softer now. not frantic. disappointed. like he already knows how this ends. " my mother’s still out there. she can’t move. i tried to help her but i think i made it worse. "

the porch light flickers, there's a sound of maybe a heartbeat, or a old grandfather clock echoing in the world. if karen glanced at what she would have assumed was nancy and her car previously, she would find a fully different vehicle with a all too recognizable woman that henry is unaware that karen knows. a one VIRGINIA CREEL. " please, @4tr0phy, i don't know what to do ! "

the man of iron smiles and the mangled flesh of his face responds in kind, metal dug ferociously into tissue, glinting and gleaming grey and silver. in spite of this there is a limitless tenderness about him. the iron maiden tee he’s wearing flows vaguely, faintly with the electric blue circle buried beneath his ribs. in this excitement, soft, the light buzzes brighter, softer, brighter.

he’s blowing on the burning marshmallow with a silly urgency, biting it before fanning his mouth furiously. what little of it he can still feel, it absolutely stings. he’s laughing, self-conscious, head dipped. the wind whips by just beyond them, the hudson river whispering loudly where it peeks up above the bridge.

"Mom... are you alright ?" Mike has asked the question without even thinking properly about it as they were alone at home. She seems to have more and more on her mind. Mike is observant, he's good at reading people. They're not the most talkative family, but he worries. And maybe it's ironic because it's him who was fighting the mindflayer with his friends only a few weeks ago. He tries to not think too much about it. They're safe, at least. El lost her powers, but she's safe. That's all that matters to him.

He clears his throat awkwardly. He's so damn bad at talking. "I'm sorry, I just... I just want to make sure you're okay." Back when Will disappeared, and then when El disappeared, his mother has always been there for him and has always offered him kindness and support. He even took advantage of it a few times. But he wants to be there, too.

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER SENTENCE STARTERS @4tr0phy

a father who sits around complacently. a mother who would move the world for her children. to some degree, the wheelers remind chrissy a lot of her own family dynamic. except there's a key ingredient missing from her broken home: a loving mom. chrissy's mother swears that everything she does, it's for their family, while her sweet old father allows his wife to run the house. he sits around a lot like mr. wheeler – and she can't help but to wonder if that's why her mother treats her the way she does.

because in this different setting, she sees a father do nothing as his wife cares for the entire group. it was nice to be invited over by nancy. (a study date promised between them with a side of dinner.) but she feels a sense of duty to step in – and that she does, helping clear the table after dinner had finished. (and noting the plates left behind and the glass of wine refilled by mrs. wheeler.)

𓂃 ⭑.ᐟ𓂃 steve slows when he spots her. karen wheeler didn't belong out here this late –- not because hawkins was dangerous ( he'd learned better than that ) but because he's used to the carefulness of the adults around hawkins. she appeared to him as the kind of adult who made sure the doors were locked, secure, & noticed when something was off with her loved ones. seeing her alone, a few blocks from where the mall used to sit, felt wrong in a way he can't entirely place.

he's a short distance away, hands loose at his sides. just him.

❛ did ... something happen ? ❜ he isn't sure why he doesn't just ask her why she's here, as he normally would. it feels almost too invasive. the street maintains its silence, beckoning for more. the taller figure glances over his shoulder, making sure it was really just the two of them. he scans windows, doorways, checking for shadows. habit. ❛ you shouldn't be walking around here by yourself, ❜ he added, nothing but honesty behind his statement.

𓂃 ⭑.ᐟ𓂃. from a STARTER CALL + @4tr0phy

rot. it smells like rot. the creature sniffs it vaguely, faintly, this monster, this animal, this salivating abomination that might match she. the old valentine stays where she is, head turned and tilted. it feels dishonorable to hide her mangled eye in the presence of like, one that begets like. she is beautiful and patient and kind and rotting. it sits in the back of her mouth again, again, and she ruminates without fail. she cannot stop.

a single eye rolls and turns and flicks aside. a mouthful of jagged teeth wink back, a shade of white that feels as cosmically glitched as the rest of her visage. it’s odd, wrong. off. she is beautiful, too, but has not been beautiful for a long time. a long, dark, jagged mark slices in the form of four marks hard across a sweetly youthful face. a singular almond eye, a moss that burns like the undergrowth of a shadowed grove, follows karen (her name is graciously easy to say, and can be spoken mostly clearly, kar’n.)

“‘ow’d ye get r’be thiss way?”

a drawl purrs lazily from a pink lips, sweetly heart-shaped, incongruent with immensely broad shoulders. she is patient, voice a harsh rattle from disuse, marbles thrown into a tin, vigorously shaken by a child. a gloved hand hesitantly settles to fold it another, stretched across her knees. leather creaks.

the sound of teenage voices & overzealous footsteps isn't anything new in the wheeler house . max probably spends more time here than at her own house , not that anyone seems to really blame her . besides , it's .... nice at the wheeler house , even with the noise & chaos . mrs wheeler scolds , but never screams or insults . ted gets annoyed , but never raises a hand or threatens . no one is scared here .

except mike , who has every reason to be afraid after swiping max's last bag of sour patch kids . in fact , he's currently being chased up the basement stairs and around the first floor of the house , a whirlwind of shrieking voices & ginger hair . they're in the kitchen when max finally catches him , sliding over the island to pull him into a head lock . honestly it's impossible to tell which of them bumped the fruit bowl & sent it careening to the tile , but the sound of shattering glass makes them both freeze & draws mrs. wheeler downstairs to see the guilty tableau .