FOR : Kieran ! @horrorphase. LOCATION : Exiting A Back Alley Into The Sidewalk, Yikes . TIMESTAMP : Fuck

DAPHNE BLAKE, played by the journalist herself . . . effie floyd ! coming to a red creek halloween party near you! template cred.

FOR : selin ! @inlustre . LOCATION : steps outside damon's apartment . TIMESTAMP : 5:40pm .

" c'mon, promise i haven't been avoiding you. i'd pinky promise on it even, sel. " said with a smile and a shift in their perch. a cigarette rests between their pointer and middle finger, getting rolled slowly between the knuckles. " you know me, busy as shit all the time. can't ever seem to sit still. " which, really, has been more true as of late. avoided redstone as of late, stayed on their feet, wandered about in the middle of the night like they had somewhere to be. maybe, just maybe, damon thinks if they keep moving around sporadically they'd be spared from whatever shit was stirred. maybe they're shrouded in some sort of burden. who's to say, they haven't told anyone. not even selin, arguably someone they've kept fairly close throughout the years.

the cigarette rises to their mouth, slow toil of the smoke exiting the corner of their mouth. takes a sudden sullen turn of his voice to heavily sigh. drops a bit of their ... nonchalance. " buuuuut i never apologized for that night at redstone, did i? i'm sorry, sel. it wasn't anything personal, right? y'know, you getting hurt? "

FOR : open, come on in ! LOCATION : redstone bathroom ( or just coming out of it for accessibility ) TIMESTAMP : 2:43am

" great fucking job, damon. hilarious, really ! why not start a fight on the night someone's fucking murdered. genius ! " loud nonsense from a split - opened mouth. they're not speaking to anyone in particular, but their own reflection in the dirty mirror. they're not sure how bad they look, but they're definitely going to feel it in the morning. head, swimming. knuckles, aching. " gonna have a blackeye ... christ. " they smack their own face just to feel the sting. spring themselves from the disorientation of adrenaline and mixture of alcohol.

this is their cue to stop mulling and find a place to sit until the crowd settles down. slip away with an opening. otherwise, who could say they wouldn't start another fight? with their unsteady movements ... a threat of this already appears. shoulders knock into someone and they're immediately scrambling back like a wild animal. " shit — " their hands move in a sporadic manner of surrender. palms up, moving around in a circle in front of them. " sorry. i'm sorry — not trying to start anything else. swear it. "

( willa fitzgerald . cis woman . she / her ) ⸻  effie floyd , a thirty - three year old , has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for five years . the spitfire is known for being observant and outspoken and is often associated with string  connecting  on  the  corkboard  between  newspapers  new  and  old  and  people  around  hidden  in  the  recesses  of  the  mind  ,  speaking  first  and  asking  questions  later   /   words  are  a  fire  on  the  tongue  and  passion  a  flaw  and  a  reward  ,   strong  and  steady  hands  doesn't  mean   they  don't  shake  /  it's  just  hard  to  see  it  if  you're  not  looking . in a small town where they work as a journalist at the register word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that [ THIS PAGE CANNOT BE FOUND ].

full name: effie lianne floyd. nickname(s): ef. age: thirty - three. zodiac sun sign: virgo. birth date: september 15th. gender & orientation: cis woman, she + her & bisexual. place of birth: philadelphia, pennsylvania. occupation: journalist for the register. familial ties: estranged from her family back in philly. has one younger brother. height: 5'5".

CHARACTER INSPOS : gale weathers ( scream ), shinya kogami ( psycho - pass ), miranda priestly ( the devil wears prada ), madeline usher ( fall of the house of usher )

FAST FACTS ⸻

left philly due to an explosive fight with her mother and discovering that she had been cheating on her father for years. she'd always felt there was something off about her mother's relationship with her father and almost became obsessive with uncovering her suspicions. at twenty-six, she discovered the truth after following her mother on one of her "girls' night out". due to the rift this formed in the house, effie decided to take her journalism degree and relocate. she's been on the move since this rift and keeps no contact with her family members. instead, she throws herself into work.

before settling in red creek, effie took up plenty of brief stays throughout different towns. her interest in stories and tales guiding her heart from place to place. she holds a keen eye and knack for sleuthing, often landing her either in trouble or an acclaimed column within papers or online journaling sites. in a way, maybe she is more comparable to a private investigator. however, she tries not to throw herself that deep into her interests. key word: tries.

her interest in red creek soared at the mention of the killings and the growing tension of potential resurgence. before her move here, she had began taking an interest in true crime and specifically cold cases and urban legends. she has a journal of things of note surrounding motives and rumors. a part of her thinks her mind is infallible and can be useful in areas seperate from recording daily lives and new trends within journalism.

her personality can be a bit stifling towards new people. direct, haughty and hypervigilant it's hard to feel like you're not being studied. she separates her friends and private life as best as she can, but effie is nothing but obsessive.

potential for more tba . .. ..

effie knows damn well ricardo wouldn't be anywhere on the suspect list. unless there's a fat chunk of cash and they're hiring someone else ... there's absolutely no way. she's laughing at her own thoughts while adjusting her bag to her shoulder. this walk isn't going to be dreadful, at least not for her. tons of people would probably take the nearest turn left and avoid being stuck with ricardo garcia ... but she's a woman of pride. though she'd never speak it, and would like to think he knows it, ricardo doesn't have skin in the game. to write was to pull at heartstrings, instill intrigue and captivate whoever reads it. money, in the end, was simply the bonus. so, that's what she's leading with.

another laugh sounds at his stop, feet carrying her to step in front of him and pause the little walk. effie looks up at him with a tilted head, smile resting against her face as if she's already won this mock - debate. " i'll take the good person comment as a compliment ... but seriously? let me rephrase. " she takes a drag off of her cigarette, turning away to blow the smoke away from his face. in an instant her gaze travels back to his face. determined in expression and soon in voice. " it is cruel, but cruelty doesn't sell. the register writes a false column only to be discredited by shitty police ... sure it'll sell. however, our reputation will also tank. and when that tanks, you know what else does? profit. " she spins the hand with the smolder around in a circle. " what i'm suggesting is, yes, have some tact, but mainly if we wait for a statement and then fill in the plot holes with our own what ifs and could bes ... we'll drive suspense. " there's a snort, " nonetheless won't become the fucking tmz of red creek only profiting off old ladies who can't use a smart phone. see what i mean, ric? "

HE ROLLS HIS EYES and feels a small almost - smile move his mouth . ricardo has worked hard to be known in certain ways . sometimes he forgets the feeling you can get from surprising people . from being remembered DIFFERENTLY . ricardo has never been a smoker , but he takes interest in the way the smoke billows around effie , effortlessly . his eyes linger for a second too long before he pulls them away . " well , who knows ? maybe i'm the murderer looking for a second kill tonight . " he says , tone with less bite than normal .

he waits for her as she collects her items , eyes scanning their surroundings . ricardo didn't know what to expect for his first halloween in this town . it's both surpassed and disappointed every expectation . back home , he'd be in a limousine by now , snorting white substances with random victoria secret models . REDCREEK IS LIKE A WHOLE DIFFERENT WORLD . he hums at effie's description of kennedy . it's an understatement . kennedy may be one of the smartest people that ricardo's ever met , but FAT CHANCE of revealing that . he falls into step with effie , hands tucking neatly into his dress - pant pockets . he looks over in surprise as she mentions holding off reporting in the register . if it was anyone else , he'd tell them to keep their shit opinions to themselves . he feels himself slowly break into a grin the more she talks . this is where effie and kennedy differ greatly . effie has a conscience . ricardo can't even remember what having one feels like . " breeding hysteria is in our job description . " he replies back , languidly . he turns to face effie properly , pausing in their footsteps. " i don't know if you realised yet , eff , but cruel and me kind of go hand in hand . " he resumes walking , with a small shrug of his shoulders . " i appreciate your opinion . " he always does , which is a DANGEROUS thing . " but i'm sure you can appreciate why i won't be taking it . " ricardo squints up ahead , trying to determine where they are . " hysteria , shitty police , bungling media ? that's how cases bring infamy . infamy brings money . we don't have to be good people , but we can at least be rich ones . "

" ooohh, ricardo, have you been drinking? this isn't like you. " it's a jest coupled with a puff of laughter filled with smoke. effie has worked beneath him long enough to know this wasn't up to status quo. known for his sharp tongue and blaise tenor, he'd never willingly offer that. and yet, here he is. offering. truthfully, effie has always been acutely aware of his slight shift with her. its never been drastic nor suspicious, but the sharp edge dulls just a bit. she hasn't questioned it before and wouldn't start now, but couldn't help but to tease it. " i'll take you up on that. "

effie goes to stand and reaches behind her for the bag. red strands of a wig stick out comically, the discarded piece to her costume. it'd started giving her a headache over an hour ago, but she'd just now decided to rip it off. effie floyd, committed to her own detriment. " kennedy ... she's always right on the mark, isn't she? " the cigarette returns to her mouth for another puff. the silence mingles with the dissipating smoke. she pretends to ponder with this, but she's already known how to handle her own work since the announcement. " if you want my honest opinion i think we should hold off on any columns. " she looks from the sidewalk up to ricardo, head tilting towards the side. " that includes kennedy. me. you. jump before the officials and it'll cause a mess. post too soon it could breed hysteria. nonetheless ... it'd be a bit cruel to give a tragedy a damn timestamp like six pm, don't you think? "

EFFIE INTRIGUED RICARDO , which was a rarity . she wasn't one to outrightly gossip , nor was she one to fall into the bitchiness and politics like the rest . she was a straight shooter and ricardo has always liked them straight and direct . " i'll walk with you , if you want . " he offers , even surprising himself . decency and ricardo's name don't usually belong in one sentence , but he supposes he can take an hour or two off from being the world's largest douche bag . plus , secretly he does think that if anyone should and could and had the RIGHT to own the register . . . . it was probably effie . unfortunately for her , his family , name and connections got HIM the job . " you've got your concentration face on . kennedy said they'd be writing up a piece - what's your angle ? you know print goes out at 6 . "

FOR : bronte ! @lifekisses. LOCATION : bronte's residence.

to say the turbulence of red creek wasn't getting to abel would be an understatement. since resurfacing in the town after a month's absence ... it seems like it's different shit new day. though, maybe, it'd be same shit, different day in abel's case. a man around for the original disturbances of the town now witnessing the potential recreation of them. the same fear, same unease, same anxiety. no, he he isn't immune to it ; finds himself scanning the open spaces of the bar more closely, bartending more often with it. his own version of paranoia, capturing regulars and noting flight risks. however, it seemed he didn't have to scan the bar for a new fucking disturbance. the register thrust forth for him. an unsavory picture and he couldn't hide his shock behind the counter. his course of action is immediate, thoughtless.

he doesn't call bronte. doesn't ask if he could check in on her — does what he's done for a handful of years and walks over there. knocks against her door in quiet fours. once she answers, he gives a sigh. " hey, ronnie. hope i ain't interrupting, but ... figured a friendly face might do you some good. "

restless energy exists under his skin. constant need to get his hands on something— it's kept him out of most trouble last few years. quelled the electricity making his hair stand on edges ; the pins and needles at bay. couldn't stumble into bad habits, lose the plot if they had something to do. ironically, had considered looking into mechanics before the tattooing gig. only problem with cars were the lifeless shells. couldn't tell what the hell was wrong with an expressionless husk. it lacked a form of art ; detailing couldn't even compete. if damon's fixed his absolute joke of a ninety's era honda, surely he could do something. " well, if you don't know and i don't know what the hell is wrong with it ... who's to say it isn't an easy fix? " its genuine in the way it's stressed, fingers fiddling with an edge silver ring circling his finger. palms itch at the thought. " least i could do, yeah? gives me shit to do, you somethin' less to worry about. hopefully. i ain't a mechanic, but ... i like to keep my knowledge expanding. " snorts at that. " you know me. can't stop keeping myself busy. just keep it in mind, yeah? " a clap of their hands. " now, with the damon business spiel out the way ... what you want? i'll cover it. no, nope nothin' about handouts or any of that shit. i asked you if you were free to chill. "

the    air    in    places    like    redcreek    carried    a    sweetness    that    clung    to    her    skin    like    sap,    tacky    with    memories    she'd    rather    forget    —-   memories    of    a    town    smaller    than    this    one,    trapped    between    cornfields    and    steeples,    drenched    in    kindness    so    artificial    you    felt    like    you    were    suffocating. it’s    why    she    tries    to    stay    in    the    margins,    on    the    side ;    here,    but    not    really,    easily    forgettable.    a    person    you    jot    down    in    the    crevices    of    your    memory    and    then    discard.    but    now    she needs    help.    fucking    can’t    stand    that    she    does,    but    requires    it    nonetheless.    without    a    means    of     transportation    she’s     truly stuck,    one    purgatory    traded for    another. it's that fact that forces her to act    like    words    have    threaded    through    her    suspicion,    like    saccharinity    in    eyes    and    a charm she almost wants to fall for    doesn’t    remind    her how    she's learned generosity doesn't always mean goodness    —-    instead how one usually meant the absence of the other.    " wish    i    knew.    every    time    i    try    to    gain    any    type    of    speed    the    check    engine    light    comes    on    and    he    quits. " fingers drum over the rusted metal, gaze catching theirs. " you sure you want another project? "

" i'm pretty sure a fight makes the punching part pretty equal. otherwise it's just getting jumped. " this, not spoken with sarcasm. cut and dry, like some gin. their eyes glance down towards the beer bottle that the second owner of the bar glances to. wonders, briefly, if he thinks its tending to a habit. salt to the wound and the still slightly throb of a jaw. damon sighs, almost defeated as he all but sinks into the bar. arm folder, chin propped. " hey, c'mon, already went on my apology string — like a fucking gentleman — and paid for the bottle my skull broke. " reminds him, a bit, of when his mother would scold him. not that zak's comparable to his fucking mother, but its in similar vein. act like a gentleman, reeeeel it innnn. that type of shit. and he has, for the most part. impressive he'd just now broken the streak of no-punching after two years. " yeah, yeah. pip-pip cheerio all the way. " pause, point of a finger, " you seen that poster around? change subjects. since i already know i've been a bad little boy with a bad attitude ... lemme talk t' you like i'm just some guy. " they really are just some guy.

"no  shit,"  is  an  immediate  reply  back,  something  akin  to  a  glower  on  zak's  features  as  he  stretches  up  and  back,  almost  cat  -  like,  lazy  and  languid.  the  hem  of  his  shirt,  already  cropped  too  short,  rises  -  then  falls  again  as  he  leans  forearms  against  the  bar  top,  rag  tossed  over  hunched  shoulders.  "so,  were  you  the  one  who  got  the  shit  punched  out  of  him,  or  the  one  who  did  all  the  fucking  -  punching?"  his  eyes  fall  onto  the  beer  bottle;  gaze  lingering  for  a  moment  before  he  peels  them  away  to  stare  into  space  -  cramped  and  small.  it's  -  ironic.  a  (  former  )  alcoholic  owning  a  bar.  co  -  owning,  anyways.  more  like  -  watching.  babysitting  the  patrons.  making  sure  no  more  fights  break  out  when  abel's  attending  to  his  own  business.  "you  even  -  look  at  someone  the  wrong  way,  and  your  ass'll  be  out  the  door.  i'm  expecting  some  fucking  -  gentlemen  shit.  bowing  before  others,  tipping  your  fucking  -  hat.  i'm  expecting  a  fucking  -  pip  pip  cheerio,  when  you  leave."

Okay maybe mama did raise a fool