#misery.intro

Back when, Ollie’s family had a bit of a reputation for being a somewhat tragic mess. While his maternal grandparents were generally well-regarded folks - the school custodian and librarian, in their day - their ability to be satisfied with the simple life drove their only daughter up the wall and, eventually, out of town, after years of escalating rebellion. Deirdre returned pregnant, with the father in tow; he was a stranger, a city boy with romantic notions of a seaside hamlet that were deeply disappointed. The two (almost three) moved back into the Aylen family house, and… spiraled, from there. They were both artists, in the most dysfunctional sense of the term, and neither were prepared to be parents. Ollie wound up largely in the care of his grandparents as mom and dad fought, drank, and desperately delivered painting after painting to gallery after gallery. They were a loud, impractical pair of people, the kind of couple that a small working town loves to shake their heads at. Nobody was shocked when the city boy ran off and never returned, or when their local failed artist kept failing under her own alcoholic steam. Her son, quiet, practical, grew up generally pitied. More so, after his grandparents passed - so sad, so sudden, a car accident in the fog. (Not that fog. Just a regular fog. Regular tragedy.) Then his mother, before he finished high school. She wasn’t mourned so much as her folks; bitter, resentful, a mean, lonely drunk with only a temper and wasted talent to her name, all she left behind was some half-finished hotel art and a heap of empty bottles. Just another regular tragedy. And Ollie in the wake of it, alone in the old family house. Where he could make something, even just - something small. And steady. A life of his own. And so he did. 

Before the Beast burst out of the dark, most would say Ollie had more or less succeeded. As the shadow of his family’s falling-apart fell further into history, he became a familiar and generally fond fixture around St. Brendan and Misery more broadly. Art had always been his escape, something deeply different than what it was for his parents; it was his art teacher who’d given him the tools to turn it into that, to make it his. He paid that forward, taking over the job when that mentor retired. Teaching wasn’t some kind of consolation prize - he wanted to share the wonder and the process, to give what he’d been given! That mattered. And how much it mattered, to Ollie, showed. It was a good place, his art room. By the time he really met Marlow Albright (THE NOVELIST), a fellow teaching student at the closest college, he’d cracked out of his shell and, well. Become somebody that someone like her could be charmed by. Why he broke her heart just as she was taking off, that’s another mystery Misery can’t crack. Some might wonder if he just couldn’t cope with the absolutely monumental success she was quickly becoming - a writer, a doer, making something of her work and herself in a way Aylens just. Don’t. That’d be unfair, and so, so far from the truth, but. It’s not like he’s explained himself to anyone. Not even Marlow. And then, just as he was starting to slip into a regular stool at the bar… it happened. This not at all normal fucking dog attack that’s. Done. This. 

✿ 𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 :

𝗺𝗯𝘁𝗶 : intj - t . 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘀 : composed , analytical , observant , steadfast , quietly compassionate , disciplined , emotionally guarded , self-sacrificing , dry-witted , stubborn , grief-stricken , quietly haunted . 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 : early morning silence before the clinic opens , black coffee gone cold beside unfinished charts , rainy drives with nowhere particular to be , medical journals annotated in the margins , fresh linen , classical music playing low while she works , orderly spaces , the scent of antiseptic that reminds her she can still fix something , porch lights left on after dark , holding someone's hand through the worst day of their life . 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 : unanswered questions , crowded waiting rooms after tragedy strikes , people refusing treatment out of fear , wasted time , sympathy she hasn't asked for , driving through heavy fog , empty houses that still feel lived in , anyone suggesting it's finally time to move on .

✿ 𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 :

𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 : 163cm , 5'4" . 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 : dark brown , calm and unwavering , carrying the quiet exhaustion of someone who has watched too many sunrises from beneath fluorescent lights . 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 : dark brown , naturally curly , usually pulled back into a practical bun or low ponytail that comes undone by the end of a shift . 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝘀 : a simple gold wedding band she has never taken off , despite everyone else assuming she's long since widowed . 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 : crisp button-downs , tailored trousers , practical leather shoes , a well-worn white coat with pens tucked neatly into the breast pocket , charcoal wool coats , muted earth tones and cool greys , understated gold jewelry , a leather satchel perpetually filled with patient files , anatomy texts , and paperwork she insists she'll finish before going home.

✿ 𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬 :

OUTER LAYER : THE BASICS

full  name  :  jersey  neil  donoghue  .  nickname(s)  :  JD  throughout  his  adolescence,  but  he's  outgrown  it  .  date  of  birth  +  age  :  july  7th,  1996  +  thirty  .  place  of  birth  :  misery,  new  england  .  gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he/him  .  orientation  :  unlabeled  .  occupation  :  butcher  at  carved  .  traits  :  anxious,  curious,  honest,  perceptive,  wary  .

likes  (+)  :  slow  mornings,  gloomy  weather,  wearing  too  many  layers  of  clothes,  long  walks,  cross  word  puzzles,  having  tasks  to  keep  him  busy,  playing  darts  +  billiards  (usually  by  himself  lmao),  napping  in  an  obscure  aisle  of  the  misery  public  library dislikes  (-)  :  small  talk  when  not  on  the  clock,  the  taste  of  coffee,  being  alone  /  spending  too  much  time  at  home,  the  quiet, intentionally avoiding people (stares @ ezra)

INNER LAYER : THE LORE tw for — mentions of death, blood

1996  :  carrie  and  johnny  donoghue  welcome  their  first  &  only  child  into  the  world,  jersey  neil  donoghue.  thirteen  days  later,  half  of  misery  is  tragically  burned  to  the  ground.  when  he’s  conscious  enough  to  understand,  jersey’s  mother  tells  him  the  fires  were  no  coincidence  — it  was  an  omen,  his  acceptance  of the  curse.  another  witness.

the  donoghues  bring  him  up  in  the  church.  jersey’s  parents  raise  him  with  the  notion  that  because  they  are  witnesses,  the  only  protection  they  have  from  their  burden  is  religion.  god is the ultimate seer, they tell him, therefore he is the only one who truly understands. hell,  he  even  serves  as  an  altar  boy  for  a  period  of  time  in  late  elementary  school  to  early  middle  school.  his  parents  share  stories  of  unfortunate  mishaps  they’d  experienced  throughout  their  own  lives :  his  uncle  going  missing  in  the  woods  during  a  game  of  hide  and  seek  with  his  mother  when  they  were  children,  a  workplace  death  at  the  butcher  shop  kept  under  wraps,  amongst  others.  his mother tells him he will know when tragedy is to strike and he will be rendered helpless, forced to watch. it’s  all  too  strange  to  him,  this  talk  of  a  curse  —  something  he  doesn’t  understand,  like  maybe  they’re  just  trying  to  scare  him.

the  first  time  he  understands  what  his  parents  mean,  he’s  eleven  years  old.  classes  are  over  for  the  day,  the  echo  of  the  school  bell  chiming  as  children  pool  out  of  the  building  and  into  february's  winter.  jersey  finds  himself  trailing  behind  ms.  mayfield,  beloved  homeroom  teacher,  stepping  into  the  footprints  she  leaves  behind  in  the  grey  slush  before  something  has  him  stopping  in  his  tracks.  a  chilled  breeze  raises  goosebumps  on  the  back  of  his  neck  and  there's  a  uncomfortable  weight  that  settles  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach.  the  world  falls  into  a  muffled  lull,  wide  eyes  catching  onto  an  object  in  his  peripheral  seconds  too  late.  the  delivery  truck  comes  barreling  down  the  hill  without  mercy  and  it  plows  into  ms.  mayfield,  who  steps  out  onto  the  cross-walk  just  several  feet  before  him.  the  instinct  to  look  away  kicks  in,  yet  his  gaze  remains  locked  on  the  harrowing  scene  unfolding.  the  truck  rams  ms.  mayfield  into  the  bank  of  snow  …  except  it’d  hardened  into  ice  since  being  shoveled,  and  she’s  pinned  between  the  bumper  and  the  frozen  bank,  red  splattering  across  winter  white.  high  pitched  shrieks  cut  through  the  fuzzy  lull,  people  pushing  past  him  to  get  to  ms.  mayfield,  and  all  jersey  can  do  is  feel  the  violent  thump  of  his  heart.  a  freak  accident,  the  town  says.  the  brakes  failed,  the  crossing  light  mistakenly  glitched  from  red  to  green,  it’s  an  unfortunate  event  on  all  fronts.  jersey  makes  it  home  and  while  he  makes  no  effort  to  mention  what  he's  seen,  his  mother  gives  him  a  look  that  says  it  all  :  she  knows  —  and  so  does  he.  the  curse  is  real.  that  night,  he  falls  asleep  with  his  rosary  clutched  close,  mumbling  the  lord's  prayer  like  a  broken  record.

paranoia  and  guilt  seep  into  jersey's  bones  at  a  young  age.  the  fight  between  wanting  to  be  vigilant,  but  also  unaware  is  exhausting.  adolescence  is  riddled  with  witnessing  things  he  can't  comprehend,  can't  explain.  except  he  tries  :  like  when  he  tells  the  deputies  investigating  his  best  friend's  disappearance,  that  he  saw  something  —  someone,  drag  lonnie  into  the  water  when  they  were  cliff  diving  at  pelican  point.  or  when  he  swore  he  could  feel  when  something  bad  was  going  to  happen,  he  just  didn't  know  what.  townspeople  begin  to  think  he's  strange,  divided between something  akin  to  the  boy  who  cried  wolf or someone with a penchant for bad luck.  his  parents  tell  him  to  keep  quiet.  what  you  feel is real, what you see  is  real ...  but  no  one  will  believe  you.

2013  :  jersey’s  father  passes  away  of  heart  failure  in  his  sleep,  a  result  of  his  drinking  habits  catching  up  to  him.  he’s  remembered  as  a  hardworking  family  man  and  a  pillar  of  sorts  within  their  community.  graduation  day  is  a  difficult  one  without  him.

dreams  of  venturing  out  to  the  mainland  are  put  to  a  halt  and  jersey’s  life  pivots  in  a  new  direction.  jersey  can’t  leave  his  grieving  mother  behind,  so  he  stays  in  misery.  he  spends  a  year  juggling  a  job  as  a  busboy  at  the  salty  whale  and  as  an  apprentice  at  carved.  by  18,  he  takes  his  father’s  place  at  carved  and  becomes  the  new  butcher.  over  the  next  years,  many  townsfolk  will  tell  him  how  much  he  looks  like  his  father  at  that  age,  a  spitting  image,  save  for  the  severed  finger  (jokes  made  that  only  time  will  tell  if  the  same’ll  happen  to  him  …  with  his  luck,  he’s  afraid  it  might.)

it's  around  this  time  that  jersey's  mother  begins  to  act  different.  moments  where  she's uncharacteristically agitated  or  times she finds  herself  lost  in  a  town  she's  known  her  entire  life.  doctor's  visits  can't  seem  to  pinpoint  what  could  be  causing  the  shift  in  an  otherwise  healthy  individual,  yet  the  consensus  they  come  to  is  grief.  the  shock  of  losing  her  life  partner  is  taking  a  drastic  toll  on  her  mental,  however  with  time,  it's  possible  that  she  can  work  to  cope  with  the  pain. 

2021  :  carrie  succumbs  to  early  on-set  dementia  …  at  least,  that’s  the  logical  explanation  for  her  mental  decline  and  the  way  she’s  changed,  isn’t  it?  jersey  thinks  it’s  the  worst  thing  he’s  had  to  witness  thus  far  :  his  mother’s  deterioration  and  being  unable  to  prevent  it. 

jersey  cares  for  her  until  it  becomes  too  much  for  the  local  clinic  and  himself.  by 2024, arrangements are made to  send  his mother to  a  caretaking  facility  on  the  mainland.

in the beginning,  jersey  makes  the  6-hour  round  trip  commute  to  see  her  every  weekend.  yet  the  more  she  forgets  him,  the  more  she  morphs  into  someone  he  doesn’t  know,  the  stranger  she  gets  about  her  fixations  on  misery  —  he  feels  like  a  child  again,  tethered  to  the  family  curse  now  more  than  ever.  the  visits  become  less  frequent  and  the  guilt  accumulates  on  his  shoulders,  it  feels  like  abandonment.   yet  a  part  of  him  can’t  help  but  wonder  if  by  doing  this,  keeping  distance,  he  can  somehow  outrun  this  curse.

2026 : sitting within one of the last pews of the church, barring witness to the sudden death of Reverend Carmichael, reminds him he can never out run this.

will add some more lore Soon about jersey becoming an accomplice to The Mrs. Abernathy Incident ( ferb + ezra, we're coming 4 yew guys !! <3) just know he's very much not okay ...

WANTED CONNECTIONS :

found  family  :  being  an  only  child,  i  think  it’d  be  nice  for  him  to  have  a  close  friend  that  feels  like  a  sibling  /  cousin  !  or  mayhaps  an  older  townsperson  who  feels  somewhat  like  a  parental  /  aunt  /  uncle  figure  :0

will-they-won’t-they  :  romance  isn’t  something  that  comes  easy  to  jersey.  he’s  awkward  and  ungraceful,  not  the  best  at  picking  up  on  cues  when  it  comes  to  knowing  if  someone’s  fond  of  him  or  not.  could  be  a  funny  thing  where  they  both  dance  around  each  other,  two  weird  individuals  trying  to  bridge  the  gap  between  them  or  maybe  it’s  someone  who  keeps  him  on  his  toes, makes him nervous,  and  still  likes  him  despite  the  blunders  lol

fellow  wanderer  :  jersey’s  no  stranger  to  roaming  around  misery  —  with  or  without  a  purpose,  no  matter  the  time  of  day.  thinking  maybe  these  two  cross  paths  often  :  they  spot  each  other  through  the  early  morning  haze  when  there's  still  dew  or  catch  each  other  through  the  late  night  fog,  but  either  way  there’s  like  a  silent  mutual  understanding.  perhaps  they’re  just  as  haunted  as  him,  perhaps they're an unlikely pair ! maybe  there’ll  be  a  spooky  moment  that  bonds  them  …  forces them to maximize their joint slay against the malignant entity that is misery ... who  knows  !

STATS

full  name:  dennis bernard gladden   nickname(s): denny, den   hometown:  misery   birthday:  february 10, 1978   zodiac:  aquarius  sun, pisces moon, capricorn rising  sexuality:  bisexual   gender  identity:  cis man,  he/him   marital status:  divorced   children:  one ( 24-year-old daughter, marnie )   height:  6’1" tattoos: a few classic sailor style tattoos on his arms and chest piercings: none traits:  thoughtful, loyal, restless, disorganized, stubborn, self-destructive

HISTORY tw parental death, divorce

born  in  misery,  to  bernie  and  hannah  gladden,  he  was  the  oldest  of  three  and  the  only  boy 

the  gladden  family  had  been  a  family  of  fishermen  for  generations,  said  to  go  as  far  back  as  the  island's  settlement 

dennis,  though,  was  determined  to  break  that  tradition  for  himself;  he  worked  on  the  boat  with  his  dad  all  through  middle  school  and  high  school,  but  was  adamant  that  when  he  graduated  high  school,  he  was  going  to  go  off  to  college  and  study  archaeology  like  the  coolest  guys  in  all  his  favorite  movies 

life  had  different  plans,  when  dennis  was  freshly  eighteen,  his  dad  passed  away  in  a  freak  accident,  one  of  the  only  saturdays  dennis  hadn't  gone  with  him  out  on  the  boat 

with  no  other  way  to  support  the  family  besides  his  mother's  waitress  job,  dennis  had  no  choice  but  to  stay  and  take  over  the  business  upon  his  father's  death,  he  couldn't  abandon  his  mom  and  sisters  when  they  needed  him 

and  so  he  stayed,  continued  on  the  family  legacy 

in  his  early  20s,  he  met  an  out-of-towner,  aria,  and  fell  madly  in  love  with  her;  they  were  married  and  eventually  had  a  daughter,  marnie 

but  their  marriage  was  far  from  perfect  and  aria  was  tired  of  life  on  the  island,  a  life  that  dennis  was  adamant  that  he  could  not  leave,  so  she  divorced  him 

she  divorced  him  and  left  the  island,  taking  marnie  with  her  and  eventually  remarrying;  marnie  would  stay  with  dennis  every  summer,  but  that  stopped  when  she  went  off  to  college,  she  hasn't  visited  since 

now,  he's  just  stuck  in  the  same  old,  same  old,  with  a  bit  of  an  alcohol  problem 

PERSONALITY

he's  friendly,  though  pretty  quiet,  he's  much  more  of  a  listener  than  a  talker 

constantly  exhausted,  goes  to  bed  late  and  wakes  up  before  the  sun  to  get  out  on  the  ocean 

a  yearner,  but  is  currently  a  bit  out  of  practice 

still  a  bit  of  a  dreamer,  thinks  that  someday  everything  could  miraculously  turn  around  (  he  is  not  doing  anything  to  make  this  happen  though  ) 

spends  a  lot  of  his  evenings  at  the  tavern,  drowning  his  sorrows  in  cheap  gin 

bad  at  talking  about  his  feelings,  so  he  just  doesn't  <3 

not  necessarily  PROUD  to  be  from  misery,  but  he  was  a  lot  of  love  in  his  heart  for  it,  it  will  always  really  be  Home  to  him 

a  melancholy  man  with  big,  sad  eyes 

tw: death of a loved one, grief.

kai isn't originally from misery. he grew up in lafayette, louisina, with cell service that actually worked ! the one disruption in an otherwise steady childhood came the summer before his senior year, when his father’s work relocated the family out to the island - ugh!! new kid, last year of high school, the worst possible timing to have to start over. 

but blessings are often delivered in disguise: high school is where he met his first and only love. same graduating class, same handful of shared classes, and by october he’d worked out that he was completely, uselessly sweet on her - it was a crush that made him rearrange his whole schedule around a two-minute hallway crossing and never once turned into an actual conversation worth remembering. so yeah, little, shy kai never made a move. told himself there was time, that senior year was soooooo long, that he’d say something eventually - and then eventually time ran out, and graduation scattered them before he ever worked up the courage. 

years passed. he wasn’t ambitious in any real traditional sense - no burning drive, no five-year plan. he drifted through a couple years of community college, worked odd trade jobs, and mostly just waited for life to feel like it had started. then the internet found its way into his living room, the way it did for a lot of restless twenty-somethings in the early nineties, and he started spending his nights in chatrooms half out of boredom, half out of some vague sense that life was happening somewhere else and he wanted to experience that too.

what he didn’t realise was who he was talking to at first - a screen name, nothing more, someone anonymous who happened to mention the island thst they both lived on. it took a few weeks of talking before the pieces lined up for either of them. when they did, it knocked the wind out of him a little - the women from that hallway, still somehow exactly as easy to talk to as he’d imagined she’d be if he’d ever actually tried. this time he didn't let the moment run out. they talked for the better part of a month at all hours of the night, and just like that, he fell for her again.

they were a year into dating when they married in the local church. they bought a house that kai fixed up himself, room by room, over the better part of a few years. and when they were ready, they welcomed a child. kai hadn’t planned on being a natural at fatherhood, but he was. he was the dad who showed up to everything, who fixed the bike before anyone asked, who never made a big performance out of caring because caring was just his default setting. he wasn’t a soft touch, exactly - he had rules, expectations, a low tolerance for excuses - but it came wrapped in enough warmth that it never really felt like discipline.

as the child got older, that closeness didn't fade so much as it changed shape: fewer piggyback rides, more drives with the radio low and kai asking careful, sideways questions about school, friends, whatever was actually going on that his kid wasn’t quite saying outright. he was, by most accounts, the parent his kid could talk to if they wanted to - not because he pried, but because he was patient enough to wait out the awkward silence until something came out of it. 

which is precisely what makes the years that came after so hard to deal with. he didn't just lose a spouse and then, functionally, a child - he lost the one part of his life that had NEVER once felt uncertain. his empty house, the unanswered text messages, all of it landed on a man who genuinely believed, right up until the day it happened, that his family was the one thing in life he’d gotten unambiguously right.

losing her. the call came early, before he was properly awake, and he’s never once managed to shake the specific cruelty of that - that the worst moment of his life started with him fumbling for the phone half-asleep, irritated at being woken, before the voice on the other end changed everything. he identified her body himself. he has never told anyone, not even his own flesh and blood, exactly what that looked like, and he has built a quiet, permanent wall around the memory rather than ever letting himself go back to it. the not-knowing is its own separate wound - accident or not, he genuinely doesn’t know, and some nights the uncertainty is worse than either answer would be, because it means he doesn’t even get to grieve in a straight line. he just gets to grieve in circles.

losing them, too. he didn’t get a phone call the second time. he got silence - a bedroom door left open, a closet stripped down to nothing, and a voicemail so short he’s listened to it enough times that he could probably recite it in his sleep. for months after, he called every week, sometimes every day. people in town started to look at him a certain way about it - not unkind, just a very specific pity reserved for a man everyone quietly suspected was calling into a void. he kept calling anyway. he would have kept calling for the rest of his life. by the time his child finally picked up, he’d spent so long bracing for the worst that the relief nearly took him out at the knees.

somewhere in the middle of all of it - arriving on the island, finding love, the funeral - kai became the person the town leaned on without ever officially deciding to. he organised search parties for other people’s missing when he couldn't organise one for his own. he fixed what broke in other people’s homes when they didn't have the energy to do it themselves. he sat with people through nights he had no business having the strength for, considering he was barely getting through his own. so when the previous mayor resigned, it wasn’t ambition that put kai forward - it was years of accumulated trust from a town that had watched him show up, over and over, long after he had every reason to fall apart instead. well, that and the fact that nobody else wanted the job !

quick tidbits.

doesn’t dress like a mayor at all, and that's half deliberate, half he genuinely never got around to buying a ‘mayor wardrobe.’ crew necks, a beat-up downjacket he's had for years, and jeans instead of slacks more days than not.

salt-and-pepper stubble he forgets to maintain during bad weeks. 

reading glasses pushed up into greying hair instead of worn properly, because he’s always mid-task when he needs them and never remembers until it’s too late. 

he has a rage saved up for his child and he has no idea where to put it now that they’re actually home. it comes out sideways: going quiet when he’d normally joke, a control over his voice so tight it’s obviously a performance.

✿ 𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 :

𝗺𝗯𝘁𝗶 : infj - t . 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘀 : attuned , contemplative , perceptive , gentle , patient , quietly intelligent , compassionate , emotionally private , absent-minded , avoidant , melancholic , conflict-averse , quietly haunted . 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 : old libraries , marginalia in borrowed books , rainy afternoons , loose leaf tea , pressing flowers between pages , soft music echoing through empty rooms , antique bookplates , conversations that linger long after they've ended , thunderstorms , found objects left inside returned books . 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 : fluorescent lights , mirrors after dark , people demanding certainty from her gift , loud crowds , slammed doors , anyone referring to her childhood abilities like entertainment , broken clocks , being asked if the dead are "really there."

✿ 𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 :

𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 : 170cm , 5'7" . 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 : deep brown that always seem fixed somewhere just beyond the present moment . 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 : dark, tightly curled, usually left loose in an untamed halo or gathered into a messy bun that inevitably falls apart by midday. 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝘀 : small silver hoops in each ear . 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 : oversized knit cardigans , flowing skirts , well-loved boots , earth tones , linen blouses , wool coats , rings inherited from relatives she rarely speaks about , a canvas satchel perpetually filled with books that belong to other people.

✿ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬 :

ㅤ ... 𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦,

name, beckett byrd. nickname(s), beck. age, 33. gender, cis man. pronouns, he/him. orientation, pansexual. birthday, december 18th. occupation, innkeeper @ anchorage inn. oddity, he's a phoenix lol.

mother, † beth byrd (née shepard). father, † thomas byrd. uncle, w.l. shepard.

height, 6'. hair, sandy blonde + shortish. tattoos, none. scars, none. style, comfy casual. the type of guy to layer a hoodie jacket over a flannel over a t-shirt. has like two pairs of jeans he really likes that he just wears on rotation. scuffed converse and the shoelaces come untied all the time and he is simply never bothered to re-tie them.

... 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬,

after the fire. you remember life mostly as an after. an addendum. after the fire, which you remember by scent and feel and fear and comfort, nobody knows what to do with you. miracle baby, the papers said once. abomination, the people used to whisper. firebird, the island names you.

everyone raises you. nobody raises you. they pass you around like they're playing a game of hot potato. mrs. abernathy thinks you're darling until you climb up the curtains, until you fall off and crack your head open, until you wake up in a burst of fire and ash and smoke, whole and unscarred. after that, not even your uncle's lavish spending can convince anyone to keep you for longer than a couple weeks.

there's no height chart to be found in shepard manor. nothing to indicate that anybody lives there, that anybody loves there. all there are, are the x marks. an 'x' on the floor by the window where you die for the first time. an 'x' over the big tree in the garden where you discover you're allergic to wasps. an 'x' over the driveway where a car accidentally backs up over you while you're ant watching. an 'x' at the bottom of the pool where you try to break the world record for breath-holding.

you're good at coming back, at the re-life. but better, you think, at dying, at the surrender. you're not sure where the distinction is, only that it exists, that it feels real to you.

it's why you flee home, because you fear it's the only thing you'll be good for, and you don't want it to be true. it's why you come back, because what you want doesn't always line up with what you know. and what you know is this: misery likes when you burn.

and what misery wants, misery gets.

ㅤ ... 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘,

1992 - the byrd family welcomes their first and only child, beckett byrd.

1996 - the fire of '96 burns down the byrd family home, and the byrd family with it. the only survivor is little beckett, only three at the time. nobody knows what to do with beckett, the byrd that shouldn't have survived, until news of beth byrd's death reaches her brother, w.l. shepard. while he doesn't ever appear in misery himself, his presence in the town is felt through the cheques he sends down, for whoever is willing to put up with beckett for the week, or month, or year.

1999 - shepard manor is built. the biggest residential property on misery, looming over the other modest, suburban houses. whoever's taking care of beckett for the time being can now do so from the comfort and luxury of a grand, sprawling manor.

2010 - beckett leaves misery for college on the mainland. with no true goal or dreams in sight, he blunders through, coasting on nothing but his uncle's money until it eventually dries up and w.l. shepard cuts off all communication, refusing to bear the burden of his nephew any longer.

2014 - beckett returns to misery, tail tucked between his legs, trying out different jobs.

2017 - he's eventually given the keys to the inn and told to make do.

... 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥,

he's like if a sad wet dog was a man and also a phoenix. doesn't feel like he's good for/at anything so whenever someone asks him for something he's like okay!!!!!! i'll do it!!!!!!!! yay!!!!!!!!!!!!! and then sits and waits patiently (and a smidge desperately) for praise. surprise surprise the orphan who hasn't had a stable parental figure in his life will do anything for praise...

the amount of times he died growing up would imply he's clumsy but he's reeeeally not, the deaths were mostly just a case of neglect from whoever was taking care of him at the time or just bad luck (i think misery finds it funny when he dies, so it happens a lot).

it hurts every time btw, dying. he doesn't like it, never has. but if someone needs him to do it he will. cause it's something only he can do. something he might even be perfect for!!! imagine that... beckett byrd, being perfect for something!! sometimes he does angst about it in secret, wondering if it even counts when he's not actually doing anything, but then he wakes up the next morning and resigns himself to it anyway, because he thinks it's all he's got.

something of a people pleaser cause of the aforementioned lust for praise, but he's pretty chill with it. just an approachable guy. i think you kinda get his whole vibe the second he opens his mouth. mostly sweet, a little stupid, kind of a doormat, and just happy to be here.

ㅤ ... 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗,

someone who finds him really weird n unsettling to be around and he just goes around making this face 🥺 at them every time they ignore him, enemies >:), casual hookups, maybe a previous one night stand that it's really awkward to be around now, an ex, an ex friend, etc etc etc.

ㅤ ... 𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦,

name, sparrow song [宋霖萱 sòng lín xuān]. nickname(s), songbird [family only]. age, 27. gender, cis woman. pronouns, she/her. orientation, pansexual. birthday, march 5th. languages, english + chinese (mandarin). occupation, town hall receptionist. oddity, getting so good at being left behind it might be turning into a curse.

mother, † tabitha song [宋巧妮 sòng qiǎo nī]. father, † stork song [宋烨 sòng yè]. (ex?) stepfather, the ferryman. older sister, shrike song [宋雨嘉 sòng yǔ jiā].

height, 5'4". hair, dark brown + waist length + typically styled with curls/waves. tattoos, an empty bird's nest on the left side of her lower back. scars, none. style, light colours leaning towards pastel. breezy, free, pretty. sundresses, frilly skirts, anything light and airy. occasionally a bright pop of colour in the form of fun shoes or a jaunty little hat or even a scarf.

... 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬,

each absence is marked by a door you can't open.

your mother boards up the master bedroom after your father dies. whatever love she had for you and your sister, she leaves behind in that room. seals it up for good with bits of wood and steel. she starts sleeping in the attic, and even now, you swear you can hear her dragging her feet across the floor, muffling her cries into her pillow. resenting you in her grief, in her terror.

you padlock the hatch leading up to the attic after your mother passes. it makes no difference that she dies slumped over the dining room table, eyes closed and smiling. makes no difference that it took you two days to find her there, because you stopped being able to sleep in the house where things only ever disappeared.

your sister locks the basement door and hides the key after your stepfather leaves. you're too good at waiting, she tells you, when you ask her why. too good at sitting in the arm chair in that basement, staring up the steps waiting for that familiar footfall. heavy, slow, steady, thump-thump-thumping. it never comes, and then one morning your sister finds you sitting there, eyes red, lips blue, blood dripping down your nose, and locks the door. you never find the key.

you don't lock the door to the bedroom next to yours even years after your sister goes missing. you don't open it, either. but sometimes you hear the wind through the still open window, hear the absence of presence like an upside down song. she'll have to come back to close the window. she'll have to come back to open the door again.

but that's alright. you've always been good at waiting.

ㅤ ... 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘,

1996 - the song family welcomes their first child, shrike song.

1999 - the song family welcomes their second child, sparrow song.

2004 - the patriarch, stork song, is killed in a car accident. nobody knows what he was doing out that late at night, or why he wandered onto the road. a heartbroken and grieving tabitha, who only gave birth to two children because her husband wanted them, starts to look after her daughters with an increasing reluctance.

2009 - the song family welcomes a new presence in the form of the ferryman, tabitha's new boyfriend.

2013 - the ferryman leaves misery and the song family behind. tabitha stops acknowledging her children entirely. they live in the same house but she moves as if she's the only inhabitant. she doesn't speak, doesn't look at them. just drags herself up to her room in the attic and cries softly at night.

2014 - shrike song goes missing one night. what the police manage to discover is that the window to her bedroom was pried open by bloody john, and that shrike had managed to survive long enough to run out the front door, into the woods in an attempt to escape him, but despite their best efforts, no body is ever found. no one knows for sure what exactly happened to shrike, if bloody john got to her and buried her in a spot no one could find, or if in her haste to escape from him she ended up falling down the well or running into the witch's house. though nobody brings it up to sparrow, what they're all sure of is that whatever happened to shrike in those woods, it was permanent.

2017 - the matriarch, tabitha song, dies of a sudden heart attack a week before sparrow's high school graduation.

2018 - 2020 - with an offer from the mayor, sparrow starts working at town hall. beginning with no official position, she shadows the assistant for a while, running errands, doing busywork, before she eventually inherits her mother's old position as the receptionist.

... 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥,

was always a performer as a kid. singing, dancing, acting, sparrow loved all of it. she had grand dreams of leaving misery and becoming a big star one day, and then shrike goes missing. by then it all started to feel kind of... hollow. without her sister around to cheer her on and support her, the idea of performing, of getting on stage, suddenly didn't appeal to her at all anymore. who would she be singing for if not her? if not her father? or her mother? or her stepfather? she might still sing occasionally during the tavern's karaoke nights though! if she's drunk enough!! cause she does still love the attention<3 but it does hurt every time knowing the people she wants most to hear her aren't in the crowd.

she initially plans on going to college on the mainland, leave this godforsaken place behind her, maybe burn her house down while she's at it, but then the mayor says hey, how about you help out with some of the work in town hall instead? and sparrow thinks that's a hell of a lot better than four more years of studying, so she says yes, even though she knows it's just pity. and for the first couple years she really does make an effort with her work, but then she gets an official position, and then starts getting comfortable... a little lazy... and at some point she just starts doing whatever she wants :3. but you know after this long it's hard to just fire her... and look she's young and all alone, no family to speak of, so they simply can't bear to send her packing :p.

she's fun, she's free, she's got abandonment issues and she's enthusiastic, always up for a bit of an adventure. very much like unexpectedly upbeat despite her circumstances. i think it's the performer in her, just can't help but perform even off stage. and she'd much rather be fun and young and bright than someone who's been weighed down by all the loss she's experienced.

ㅤ ... 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗,

besties, worsties, drinking/karaoke buds, someone older she can a) annoy b) take advantage of (monetarily) by playing the dead parents + missing sister card c) teach tiktok dances to, an ex friend, a regular ex, an almost something, a currently heading towards something, someone who can match her energy re: partying and having fun, and.... other stuff too!