Fandom the haunting of a ghost ╱ closed

[poolrooms]

FRENZY

code by valen t.

TAG: weiirdw0lf

a long drawn out sigh exhales from his lips as bandaged hands tip-tap its' fingertips against the counter of her workstation. last customer that stopped by had been over an hour or two ago. frank couldn't bother to keep track yet the buzzing ambience of the freezers in the mini-gas station had been enough to drive him up the wall. pros of the job is he didn't need to deal with people which in turn meant he got to keep the job. the cons? shit was boring. mind-numbingly painstaking but to keep his eye on the prize of having some money to fuck around he pushed himself to persevere. a cigarette would help. the weight of the carton in his pocket was increasingly more notable the more he fixated on it yet the reminiscent memory of his managers nasally voice scolding her for smoking in doors echoed throughout. frank's teeth grit before nonsense (likely a few choice swear words) was mumbled under her breath.

maybe he should've encouraged for joey to show up. last night his legion were all together; who would frank be if he didn't complain? one thing lead to another and jokes were tossed around how he'd show up so that frank wouldn't lose his mind. his dismissal of the idea came immediately. "i don't need you to fucking babysit me, joey", and yet, now that he was in this situation. part of him regret not agreeing to it. fuck professionalism.

"you know what?" spoken out loud to herself. "i'm gonna take my fuckin' break early, screw this shit."

one of his hands dived into his pocket, retrieving the box that lingered there. frank eagerly made his way around the counter, and outside of the store with its signature ring announcing his exit from the door. his back made familiar comfort with the beige wall that outlined the inside. a cigarette being retrieved and placed between his lips as he fiddled with the pocket once more. retrieving a metal light that he flipped open and flicked the wheel on to light his cigarette. a gift given to him from jules- a birthday gift. a long drag of the cigarette came, easing the itch and notable impatience that risen from sitting around in one spot for who knows how long.

worst thing to happen is miraculously getting a customer now but by god they can wait for him to finish this. "can" - no, they'll wait.

 

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

Being sent off to some little nowhere town in Canada for his next article hadn’t exactly been in Danny’s plans, but it at least got him away from the monotony of Roseville. That place wasn’t anything special either, if he was being honest -- or maybe he’d just been there for too long. It’s probably the longest he’d ever stayed somewhere, actually. After he got his job at the the Gazette, he'd made sure he didn't slip up anywhere with his... other job. The one that didn't involve sitting around in the office all day but rather more hands on activities. He quite liked being able to write about his own doings and having everyone around him be none the wiser. It made him feel... oddly good. It was hard to explain.

That being said, he was also good at writing, figuring out certain things -- he didn't only write about the Ghostface murders, but they were his specialty, of course. He'd always been a true crime person, if you will, and sort of got his own place in the paper for it. Now, he wasn't a detective by any means, so getting told someone so far away wanted his help there? It was a bit surprising. But hey, he'd take it. He was curious after the call, and sooner than later ended up in Ormond where an apparent murder had taken place recently, perhaps connected to some other smaller things. In a place like this, he wondered how they didn't already figure it out... but then again, they hadn't found him out either back in Roseville. Small town things?

He'd been staying nearby, not anywhere fancy but it'd do -- not like there were too many options unless he wanted to stay a while away in another town or something and come drive here every time, which he supposed he could've done, but this was easier. Not like he wasn't used to it. Maybe not recently, but it reminded him of when he'd have to hop from place to place like this.

It was getting later in the day when he decided being cooped up in some crappy room was making him restless (despite it being what he did a lot of the time at home when he wasn't working), so he headed out to either just go look around more or maybe grab something to eat. He eventually stopped at a little gas station; just looked like any other place like that he'd seen. He parked his car, got out and walked inside.

Hm. No one at the register, he noted, probably out in the back or something. Not that big of a deal. He wasn't in any rush, really. Just grabbed a few things -- nothing that was actually good for him, he'd had a bad habit since... well, as long as he could remember really of eating mostly junk or ordering food when he got fixated on whatever he was doing or working on. Easier than going to make a whole meal himself. Whatever, it'd do. He set his items on the counter and waited.

Glancing around, his gaze stopped on some newspapers set nearby. He didn't really read anything, just skimmed over the headlines like he expected his own name or persona rather, to be there. Just habit. But this wasn't Roseville; he doubted anyone all the way up here was writing about the Ghostface case like he was. Maybe they were though, who knows.

coded by reveriee.