#lanplot

-big fan: erik is a local author, and has received some acclaim for his work. i would love to engage him with some characters who have read his work. he writes dark fairytales and other pieces of the horror genre, partially as a result of his troubled past. maybe your character is disturbed, or they could be intrigued. the possibilities are endless.

-westbook buds: erik has been in lanford for under a year, and has come here from brooklyn, ny for an escape. perhaps our characters are in a book club together and bond over their love for a shared book, or author. it’d be interesting to see your character geek out over literature with him, or even someone who has a negative reaction to a book in the shop - it’s up to you.

-coffee house: perhaps erik wanders into a coffee house to chill out and our characters spill coffee on each other. he’s a fairly introverted person, though maybe he could feel guilty enough to buy your character a replacement coffee and have a chat over it. 

-AA meeting: erik’s father is a longtime alcoholic, and the prospect of addiction is very frightening to him. let’s say he occasionally goes to meetings for preventative measures. our characters could have a bonding moment at a meeting, or talk over shared experiences.

-car troubles: maybe erik’s car poops out on the side of the road, and your character gives him a jump? maybe they have a collision on the way to work and it’s just one of those mornings, but an unlikely friendship comes from it. 

“Fucking Christ...” she mumbled, looking around the area. People were scattering, stands were descending at a rapid pace, and not a single soul seemed to stare over at the water’s edge where she stood. There might as well have been a raid; she’d seen house parties dissipate more slowly when they got busted. The water, despite the torrential downpour, remained rather calm. Gentle waves, not a single white peak. The main disturbance was the debris; a plethora of beer bottles and Dixie plates, and...

Something far larger floated in the water, obscured in the darkness; at first glance, it wasn’t anything, just another mass in the water among the trash left behind. But nothing was there to distract from the outline of limbs, spread open, practically in the prime position for a crucifixion. Hair matted down, a helmet on the scalp, waves rolling over.  She stared in awe, her face falling from a grimace of annoyance as what little color was there faded to white. And against all better instincts, and everything she normally considered sacred, she ran.

The pier wasn’t that far away; a hop, skip and a jump from the rock she stood on, items still in tow, she found herself stomping over the wooden boards, rain finally creeping up under her massive shelter as she bolted to the end, dropping to her knees. She needed to know, that the sight wasn’t a crossfaded hallucination from the shit she’d done already too much of that night. Floating before her, bobbing up and down not four feet from the pier’s end, the body was very much real, and very much what it seemed.

And with every ounce of drunken energy in her, no idea if it was in fear, in shock, or merely to bring attention, she screamed.