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Realistic or Modern The Haunting Of Pine Cliff

DreamBoy

DreamBoy

Junior Member
Roleplay Type(s)
  1. One on One
  2. Group
  3. Off-site









The Haunting
...


Of Pine Cliff










main








cs








ooc




























Peach Pitt


Peach Pitt






















































the scene

...




It’s a somber evening in Deerwood. By now, news of the murder of teenage Amber McDonnell has reached the entire town, but for many, the gravity of the news hasn’t sunk in until tonight. Tonight, the town gathers in the gymnasium of Pine Cliff Highschool. The normally spacious room has been packed well past capacity with anxious and grieving townspeople as they gather. Everyone is hoping to gain something different from this, but the primary purpose of the event is to bring together the students, reassure anxious parents, and show support for family and friends of the deceased.

It's a clear and calm night. Most attendees have been herded to the gymnasium, but some linger in the hall, or wander around school grounds unsupervised. A small group of a few teenagers snicker as they sneak past all authority figures and make it to the football field early, setting up a small Ouija board in the corner. School faculty are poised in the gym and hallway to hand out candles as soon as principal Newman’s speech has concluded. The man in question mounts the stage, looking more than a little worse for wear. He’d always been awkward and stilting at assemblies, not suited for public speaking, and it’s clear that recent events have him more shaken that usual. A bead of sweat visibly drips down his forehead, and when he moves to grab the mic, it nearly slips out of his hands with a sharp whining sound through the amplifier.














♡coded by uxie♡
 






Mila Keaton




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Conan Grey



little league









The atmosphere in the gym was stifling, at least according to Mila. Literally and figuratively. Half the town was packed in here. Trinity dramatically dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, even though Mila knew full well that she had talked to Amber maybe once in the last year. She tried not to roll her eyes. Sage’s lip quivered, big brown eyes shining. She’d always been easily influenced by the crowd. Mila was having none of it. She wasn’t unaffected by a violent death occurring in the hallway she walked every single day, but she didn’t feel the need to suddenly act like she’d been best friends with the girl. Principal Newman’s microphone whined a bit as he came to the stand at the front of the gym. He fumbled it awkwardly as he pulled it off the mic stand, clearing his throat as the gym slowly toned down to silence.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming together on this somber occasion. As you all know, we have lost one of our own, a bright and promising student who was taken from us far too soon. We are here tonight to honor her memory and to come together as a community in the face of tragedy.”


Mila nodded with the people around her, glancing around for Vince. She spotted her own parents at the back of the crowd, having stayed back at the front of the school to greet friends. Vince might have gotten caught up with his own family.

“I want to take a moment to recognize the family and friends who are here with us tonight. We cannot begin to imagine the pain and sorrow that you are feeling, but please know that you are not alone. We stand with you, we support you. The school is doing everything we can to cooperate with local authorities and implementing security measures to keep our student body safe until we have some answers.”


Principal Newman was not a cold man, but he was an awkward one, stumbling over his words more than once to a somber, but sympathetic crowd. It wasn’t a secret around the school that Amber had a meeting with Stanford on the horizon, he’d likely hinged a lot of his hopes for an alumni success story on her.

“On the way out, our faculty members have volunteered to pass out candles. Please pick one up and join us on the football field in a collective moment of silence to honor Amber McDonnel and her memory. Let us come together in this moment of grief and sadness, and let us find comfort and strength in each other.”


The room all seemed to move at once, the crowd once again rumbling with whispers of conversation in a large, slow-moving wave. Sage waved a hand in front of her face, trying to dry tears that were starting to form.
“It’s all just… so tragic.”
Mila just stared at her a moment, shifting with the crowd.
“You literally called her an ‘obnoxious know-it-all bitch’ a week ago.”
Sage stopped moving, a little slack-jawed and wide eyed, like she’d only just put two and two together and couldn’t she’d gotten four. Mila didn’t generally pick fights with these two except to keep them in line, and she certainly hadn’t in the last few months.

As soon as she spotted Vince in the crowd, she abandoned her two shadows without a second thought. She took advantage of the crowd making their way out, talking in awkwardly somber, hushed tones, to follow the current toward her boyfriend, throwing her arms around his shoulders from behind.







♡coded by uxie♡
 













mood
bored & waiting for this to be over.

location
high school gym > outside of the building ; amber's candlelight vigil.

outfit
oversized sweater with a random tee, black cargo pants, & some high top converse.

tags
none ; available for interactions.



abel ramirez.


a room once used for school rallies and games now occupied the mourning, grief, and an unsettling wave of sadness suffocating everyone inside its walls. and no matter where abel turned to find just a bit more breathing space, he found himself shoulder to shoulder with the townsfolk, eyes red and swollen with tears that adorned their faces. it was depressing and overwhelming, and actively sucking the energy out of him like a leech that he just couldn't flick off. he didn't find it worth it to be stuck in the middle of it all, to mourn someone he never knew. especially when such a sense of death picked at old wounds within his heart. abel wanted out.

but part of the ex-druggie knew that by leaving the gathering early, more eyes would be on him, and he'd have enough of that being labeled as the suspect of amber's murder. unfortunately enough for him, he had been the last person to see her alive before she met her demise and naturally, people began to point fingers. it was easy for them all to glare at the boy with the checkered past as if dabbling in drugs and murder were similar in category. they were not but there was no used to argue. they seemed to have their minds fixated on abel and the other lucky suspect who was graced with the same prejudice as he.

let us come together in this moment of grief and sadness, and let us find comfort and strength in each other, principle newman's shaky voice echoed from the microphone he used to address the crowd. the words seem to swim through one ear and out the other as abel moved in the same direction with the sea of people.
as soon as the cool breeze pinched his warm skin as he exited the gymnasium, abel realized that he seemed to be holding his breath as he snaked his way out of the crowd. he heaved a sigh of relief as his lungs filled with fresher air and lightly squeezed the candle that was handed to him on the way out. and a little ways ahead of him, he found alejandro talking amongst the crowd of grieving parents. perfect.

ramirez swiftly turned and walked a different direction, stopping along the way as someone shared their dancing flame with him in order to light his own. he couldn't help but stare into the mix of orange, reds and whites of the fire as it stalled calmly among the candle wax. here he was, standing in an event he felt he didn't belong in among students wearing the same facade as he. one that disguised the fact that they hardly knew the victim and that they were probably only attending by the force of their parents. that's why abel was here, in all honesty.

kicking at loose gravel with the toe of his shoe, abel's eyes slowly scanned everyone in sight. for the most part, he avoided making eye contact with people out of paranoia. all day he had convinced himself that if looks could kill, he would be the next dead kid. but when he finally found the courage to lift his head up, he found that everyone was too busy stuck in their own little lives as they were making their way down to the football field. it made him feel a little more comfortable to know that people were leaving him alone.

in no rush to be crowded again, he slowed his pace as he reached into his pocket for the prerolled blunt he had awaiting him all day. he had taken it with him knowing he'd need it, and right now he was proving his own theory. weed kept him calm and wiped the anxiety away. and while he wasn't as anxious as he was in the gym, he figured it didn't hurt to keep it that way.

bringing the blunt to his buxom yet slightly chapped lips, he hands dived back into his pockets in search of a lighter. but abel nearly groaned in disappointment when he found it empty, along with the three others. standing in near defeat, he sighed a bit before his eyes locked with the flame of the candle again. a part of him hesitated on acting out his thoughts, but he was in desperate need of a high to hold him off until he got home. no part of him could make it through this depressing scene sober.

taking another quick glance to make sure no one was looking, abel quickly brought the flame of the candle towards the tip of his blunt, blocking the flame from being blown out by a gust before pulling it back down. smooth.. you just used a candlelight to fire up a blunt, he thought to himself, internally snickering at his stupidity.


© weldherwings.

 






miles zager-dunst




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siames



mr. fear








Miles splashed the cold water from the sputtering bathroom sink. He looked at his reflection in the mirror spotted in rot and scratches. Frowning at his reflection as he saw just how red his eyes were. Miles wore his emotions on sleeve and was unable to just put on a face and fake a smile after what happened to Amber. He gripped the edges of the porcelain sink, staring at himself in the mirror as he steadied his trembling voice. Today was especially hard as it was the school's memorial service for Amber. Miles was frustrated at how quickly the town quickly just seemed to give up on her, the day she disappeared people talked like it was a shut case. He was still holding onto hope that the body wasn't hers, and she would just walk through the doors like nothing happened. Even though he knew it would take a miracle, he was still holding out for one. Miles adjusted his backpack leaving the low hum of the school bathroom he made his way to the gym.

Miles' shoes dragged across the hallway. He swiped open his phone to play some music through his headphones as wandered to the gymnasium. His head drooping, lost in his thoughts only pulled out when he saw a picture of Amber that hung in a display case. The school had made their own remembrance of her. Miles felt his heart tighten as he eyed through the things the school had decided best represented the student. He looked to the floor. Was this it? He thought to himself: A whole life was now only encapsulated by meaningless things? Nothing to distinguish who Amber really was, Just trivial things that held no weight. He shook his head, leaving it be.

Miles pushed open the door to the gym pausing his music as he entered. He slid his headphones around his neck. His hands began to tremble as he took in the crowd of people. He slammed his eyes shut, to try and get some reprieve from the overwhelming weight of it all. He tightened his hands into fist and tried to steady his breathing. In and Out, In and Out. He opened his eyes, being accosted by the lights of the room. He made his way over to the bleachers, his heart beating out of his chest as he tried to ignore the faces of the town. Feeling like everyone could see just how much of a mess he felt. He sat down watching the faculty milling about on the floor getting ready to address the crowd. He looked over to where his family was sitting, his sibling Jack caught his eye and gave him a smile before resuming her conversation with their parents. Miles chose to sit away from them, not wanting to burden them anymore with the storm swirling inside him. They’ve been dealing with it long enough, they needed a break, he thought. The already packed room filled up with more and more people. Miles swallowed looking up at the ceiling of the gym.

After what felt like being in an hour of suffocating silence, Principle Newman broke through it. The microphone sent a sharp sting out the speakers. Miles clasped her ears wincing at the sound. “Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming together on this somber occasion.” Newman began addressing the mourning crowd. Miles tried his best to focus on the speech but his head was pounding and swirling with his own thoughts he couldn’t take in anything else. He gripped his upper arms with hands, closing off his body as his nails dug into his skin. He shut his eyes trying to block everything out, he just needed to calm the storm but felt swept away by it all. Miles opened his eyes to the sound of people gathering their items and talking amongst themselves as they climbed out of the bleachers. “Great.” He thought, not remembering anything the principal had said.

Miles followed the mass of a crowd outside to the grassy field. Not even feigning a smile as he was handed a candle. After getting his candle lit by somebody he didn't know he pulled away from the amassing crowd. He found a place on the edge of the group sitting down on the grass leaning against a tree, resuming his music. He let the cool breeze wash over him as he watched the flame swaying and the wax drip down the side. He was pulled out of his solitude when his phone chimed. He turned in on to see that his sister had texted him “ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʀ ᴜ???” Miles typed out a few responses but opted to delete them all. He swiped out his conversation with Jack and saw the chat bubble with Amber. He tapped it open looking back at the texts he sent, since her… He sent another one “ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ”, “ɴᴇᴡᴍᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙɪɢ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴄʜ”, “ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪɢɪʟ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴏɴ” Miles sent the three texts looking up at the crowd. “ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ 🙄”, “ʙᴜᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ” Miles knew she couldn't responded but was unable to sever that connection yet. “ɪᴛꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ”, “ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ” Silencing his phone he looked up at the bits of sky the peered through the leaves of the tree. He looked around his eyes, falling on someone who had also drifted from the crowd. He squinted trying to make out who it was, but was only able to see that he was smoking. Miles realized he was just staring at the poor guy, and he seemed to notice. Miles waved to him, giving him an apologetic smile mouthing out the word “Sorry.” He sunk back against the tree hot with embarrassment hoping the guy was able to read his lips.





♡coded by uxie♡
 
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NotVanGogh | Vince Giuliani












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Vince had worn all black. That's what you were supposed to do at funerals. Of course, he knew this was a vigil, which was quite different from a funeral (supposedly?). Still, the atmosphere was the same, and Vince had thought he ought to come dressed and prepared.

Now that he was here and he saw everyone else he felt a little dumb for his choice of outfit, though it didn't really matter all that much to him really. He never really cared how others perceived him-- outside of his parents-- he merely wished to show proper respect to the dead.

That, and his mother had a pretty strong chokehold on him, and had a certain idea of what was 'proper' to wear to this sort of thing and what wasn't. He'd made the right choice in that case, considering the dissatisfied scowl of judgemental she wore as her gaze scanned the gymnasium around them. There were certainly enough people to judge here- there was quite a bit of turnout for Amber. He hadn't really realized that this many people could care about one person-- though he hardly trusted that some of them cared about anything at all. Still, the gym was packed wall to wall, and his decision to wear a long sleeve shirt was slowly starting to bite him in the ass considering the amount of sweat he had built up. It was absolutely stifling.

Apparently, his great-grandfather was on the same page, because as Principal Newman wrapped up his speech for the vigil, Pop Pop wiped the sweat from his brow, turned to Vince's parents. And breathlessly stated something along the lines of 'get me the hell out of here' and 'god I need some fresh air'. Relatable. Still, as his parents wheeled Pop Pop and his wheelchair towards the outside doors at his request, Vince chose to stay present.

Vince didn't really know Amber. He knew of her, of course, and they shared a class here and there over the years. Still they never really bonded, and while he felt some sort of sadness centered around her death, he didn't exactly find himself missing a connection that was never there. He was mostly here for Mila. She was around here somewhere, he knew, and if she was making an appearance it was expected that he would as well. He didn't mind that so much. It was his duty as her boyfriend, sure, but beyond that she was his closest, most loved friend. He wouldn't exactly be a great friend to her if he made her attend this sad crap alone.

He didn't do so well with the whole dead person thing, though. Death had been sort of a touchy subject for him since Estelle had passed, and he's sort of convinced himself that mortality just didn't exist. That everyone would go on living forever-- so weirdly Amber's death did hit him hard. Just not in the way it had for other people, and definitely not in an acceptable way, if you asked him. Try as he might to remove himself from those thoughts, he couldn't escape them, and before he knew it he was lost in his own mind. What if they had a vigil for Estelle when she was lost to them? Would he have felt any different? Would it have brought him any peace?

Looking around at the faces of his classmates and the townspeople, he didn't really think it would have made much of a difference. Perhaps it would beat stewing in those feelings alone... yet that was precisely what he intended to keep doing.

The sound of sniffles all around him was almost enough to make his skin crawl. Not that he looked down on emotion, he would never do that. He just had a bit of doubt in regards to the sincerity of them. Surely some of them were genuine and belonged to people that truly missed Amber. Many of them, he knew, were for show. Maybe a couple of them were from people who had very strong empathy, but he counted at least five people surrounding him who had tears in their eyes, and he was about eighty-five percent sure that they'd never spoken to Amber at all.

He was just about to start wondering where Mila had gotten off to when a set of arms wrapped around his shoulders and Vince found himself grinning ear to ear, despite the somber tones of the evening. There was only one person bold enough to greet him like that. "Hey Mila."

He turned his body to face her a little more head on and wrapped his own arms around her, gracing her with a soft kiss on her forehead. He'd never admit that his feelings for her weren't as romantic as maybe she had hoped, and he wasn't keen to withold too much affection from her. He wouldn't want her internalizing that, for sure. He leaned away from her a bit, but kept his arms around her for a moment longer. "I was wondering when you were going to find me. Took you long enough."

His eyes trailed behind her, over the crowd and in search of her parents. He always made a point to greet them in at least some way, after all they were kind enough to open their home to him practically every day. He noticed her mother first, towards the back of the gymnasium, and offered her a small wave and smile. "How are you feeling?" He turned his attention fully back to Mila.





"So tell me, why do we settle
when we always long for more?"

Edge by Wooly Mammoth







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 






Maddie_Wheelz



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Here one minute... gone the next

A somber thought that had practically plagued the population of Deerswood since the passing of Amber McDonnell. It was almost like the town was stuck in mourning, the shock still waiting to pass after the murder of one of their own.

Maddie's eyes drifted around the walls of the gymnasium as she leaned against the wall quietly observing the crowd around her, her eyes fell on Amber's parents shaking and sobbing with grief in the corner as a constant stream of parents, facility and students wished their condolences. Whilst they may currently hate the attention, she knew that the days only got worse after this, after the vigil the final send off for Amber and then life would resume as normal and Amber would become forgotten news, maybe eventually becoming a camp fire scary story of a murdered girl but nothing more, no more remorse for her life, no more greving, the world would begin to move again, life would continue and with that the McDonnell's family grief would be forgotten, buried down as society tells them "that's enough of that now, time has passed, you must move on".

"Let us come together in this moment of grief and sadness, and let us find comfort and strength in each other.” the awkward speech now finished, the crowd moved in unison outside to say the final goodbye, the final honor for a girl who realistically probably would have hated this.

As she pushed off the wall, Maddie's eyes were drawn towards Mila as she walked past her, out of the gym and onto the field. The all too familiar sting of betrayal and heartbreak pushed on her chest but before Maddie could really think much further into the pain, her eyes landed on thing-one and thing-two as they followed Mila from a distance like two baffled little puppies unsure what to do without their master.

Unwilling to deal with the sidekicks right now, Maddie quickly dropped her head and spun in her spot as she tried to weave herself into the crowd and away from their prying eyes, the sound of her name confirmed that they had in fact seen her and so Maddie moved quickly hoping that her best chance to be left alone would be in a crowd. Taking a candle of the teacher, Maddie immediately veered left and slightly on the outskirts of the crowd hoping to put enough distance between herself and the wanna be plastics unfortunately she was too slow.

A sharp pain from an elbow to the ribs shocked Maddie and before she had time to figure out what had happened she hit the ground head first as a foot found its way in front of her own. The sound of laughter filled her ears and she looked up to see the "sidekicks" walking off towards the crowd laughing cheerily at their success.

Taking a deep breath, Maddie slowly lifted herself, rubbing any residual dirt of her knees as she looked down towards the ground. Calming herself before looking back up, refusing to show any weakness or pain she was feeling. She was used to the torment being a daily thing in her life but while the constitanty made the hiding easier, it did not help with the pain and confusion and the "why mes" that so frequently plagued her own mind. She had never done anything to them, never drawn attention to herself in a crowd, she just didn't understand what made her a target, what did she do wrong? and why did her supposed best friend take their side.

Feeling tears begin to prick at her eyes, Maddie shook her head to release the thoughts as she bent down to pick up her candle and walked slowly towards the crowd.






"Oh yes the past hurts.
But you can either run from it or learn from it"

- Rafiki (the Lion King) (1994)







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 






Mila Keaton




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  • home (filler tab)



































Conan Grey



little league









Mila hummed non-commitally, looking around to confirm that Vince's family hadn't forgotten something and headed back into the gym or something. Mila was more of a coward than anything and the looks Vince's mother was giving the entire student body didn't bode well for anyone at all. She probably should have at least let him know a place to meet her or something rather than just avoid him because of his family, it would have been the nice thing to do. They didn't spend a lot of time with her friends either, which was very much by design. Because of their families, they'd had fairly overlapping social circles for years, Vince was under no illusions about what kind of girls Sage and Trinity and some of the others were, but she didn't think he knew the extent of it. Besides, she liked hanging out with Vince, and for all that she played up being catty and in control around the girls, she couldn't relax if they were anywhere near her. It just made sense to keep them separate.

“Sorry. I got distracted.”


It wasn't totally a lie. She'd run into the two of them on her way in and used it as a good excuse to not hang back with her parents and detach herself from the emotions roiling around in the room by listening to Trinity make fun of people's ugly crying faces.

“I'm fine, the parents are schmoozing. How about you? Your mom looked like she was going to have a fit or something.”


Once he's pulled away a bit, Mila grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together, pulling him toward someone to get a candle from so they weren't standing still in a crowd of people any more. She'd love to just stand and talk but the fresh air was sorely needed. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted some irregular movement in the mostly uniform crowd, and recognized her former best friend easily. From there, it wasn't hard to spot Sage and Trinity, still at a distance, but snickering and apparently on her trail. That didn't look great.
She turned her focus to the space in front of her, maneuvering them to a teacher to get a candle from in the opposite direction the Maddie was heading. In her mind, she tried to picture intervening. Sometimes, she could almost here her younger self yelling at her. Younger Mila had a backbone and didn't care what anyone thought. Younger Mila might have tossed a girl off a bridge for Maddie in a fit of righteous indignation. Older Mila tried to imagine running after them and telling off her sidekicks, as Maddie used to call them back before they'd stopped talking. What would that even do? They would just turn on Maddie again as soon as Mila left, and then Mila's control would chip away, and she would be a target too and there would be no good reason for Vince to date her anymore, she'd be a single, weird outcast with dissapointed parents again if she let that line of thinking win too many times, just for Maddie to get picked on again anyway. She squeezed Vince's hand and deliberately avoided watching the other girls follow Maddie outside, returning her attention to her boyfriend and hoping she hadn't been stuck in her own thoughts long enough to miss anything he'd said.





♡coded by uxie♡
 
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mood
high as fuck & trying to focus.

location
high school gym > outside of the building ; amber's candlelight vigil.

outfit
oversized sweater with a random tee, black cargo pants, & some high top converse.

tags
miles ; Limeaid Limeaid



abel ramirez.


taking in the first drag from his blunt made his eyes grow lidded. the reality around him seemed to melt away for a few seconds as the indica strain began to make every part of his body relax. he was thankful for his earlier last minute decision to take a few minutes to roll up because now the night was getting easier to stomach. death made him queasy in the worst way and being at a vigil made the eerie feeling gloom over and suffocate him whole. the tears, the wailings, the candles, the cold air as dusk approached.. it all actively spiked his anxiety. but now it was a problem he didn't need to worry about.

abel tilted his head back, eyes struggling to open wide as he looked up at the starry night sky. the sight was beautiful and he couldn't help but scan over every star he could as his exhale danced with the wind and the escaped smoke from his nose joined in. at some point, he felt like he was able to reach out and grab one, as if distance failed to exist and reaching out for a star wasn't just a metaphor anymore. this very moment felt dreamlike, and it wasn't until he felt like he was being watched that he tore his gaze away and let his eyes of coal fall upon the pair that seemed to be glued to him.

he couldn't tell if the figure was camoflauging into the tree he was leaning against or if he had taken one too many drags, but abel could only recognize that the figure was human by his light complected skin. and based on his demeanor, his sudden sunken reaction to getting caught, and the unnecessary apology, it didn't take a genius to understand that the effects of the vigil was hitting him harder than the few phonies who mourned for the attention. his feelings were real.

letting his head fall slow, abel looked over his shoulder at the crowd of people growing as they spilled out of the gym. he debating on whether or not he should just leave the other alone and find alejandro or if he should stick around in peace for a little longer. a part of him instinctively cringed at the thought of standing in awkward silence with his father, leading his legs back to the direction of the introvert sitting against the tree.

slowly dragging each foot, and allowing himself to take another drag of his blunt on the short trip there, abel walked until he was a few feet away before helping himself to the clearing in front of the other. less than gracefully sitting on the grass next to miles, he pulled his legs up so that the top of his thighs met his chest before speaking finally.

"you uh.. you knew the girl?" his voice nearly cracked as his saliva ran dry. abel swallowed before speaking again, "amber.." her name left a bitter taste on his tongue. nothing personal, but because of the circumstances they were under. abel hated talking about people in past tense form, especially when she was in the same age range as he.


© weldherwings.

 






Amberlance | Amber Mcdonnell














The one fact that the living will never realise is that death is exceedingly dull. For many, the prospect of eternal dark and nothingness was pretriyifying. It wasa questions that many souls would ponder before sleep, when the brain is still awake enough to harass you with pointless questions but not quite awake enough to provide anything useful. But eternal dark would'nt be dull, because there would be no other context. No one to share it with and nothing else to speculate on. Dullness came from having stimulus but nothing to do with it, and it was in this purgatory boredem that Amber had resided for the past 2 weeks or so. Trapped watching a world she couldn't interact with, couldn't touch and couldn't experience.

Initially when she'd woken up in the school, Amber had figured she had miraculously escaped whatever had attacked her, and tried to head home, only to find leaving more than a block from the school grounds snapped her right back to the library. Where her body was, so that alone was a fun experience that had lead to some amount of screaming. Amber Mcdonnell. In the library. With the candlestick maybe, she still couldn't recall the moments before. Since that moment she'd watched the groundskeeper tell the headmaster, the headmaster tell the police, the police tell her mom then her mom tell her dad. It had reached such a height that when her dad picked up the phone to tell her gradparents, she had wandered away in search of entertainment, and to poke around the detectives who still hovered over her murder seen.

Because that was what had happened. Murder. 2nd murder if you count the old guy who founded the school. He was deeply mourned by all who knew him probably, so much they renamed the school and added a statue of him. Amber probably wouldn't get a statue. Maybe a plaque if she was lucky. Here we honor Amber "Dumbass" Mcdonnell. Let this plaque commerate the girl who got us a day off while the cops removed her body from the Non-Fiction section. A fitting tribute. It had reached a point where she was quietly wondering if this was everything now. The funeral was tommorow, and Amber was silently hoping that her whole being around was just to see her loved ones put her in the ground, then a one way ticket to eternal blackness again.

It was a big turnout all things considered! Amber had debated avoiding the event, but part of her had been curious to see who would turn up, and she had been surprised by the sheer quantity of people. Trinity whatshername and her gang of early 2000s knockoff barbies were acting like they'd lost a sister, which made Amber wish she could still gag. Mila at least acted indifferent, which Amber somehow thought was more respectful than the crying. Even her parents were only going for the sad hold hands look. The Principal had started speaking, but she wasn't paying much attention. His statement was more sweeping than for her, and it helped being the only person who could shout back.

"We are here tonight to honor her memory and to come together as a community in the face of tragedy.”

"You're here to grive the loss of your Stamford Alumni!"

"We cannot begin to imagine the pain and sorrow that you are feeling, but please know that you are not alone,"

"Well there's no one else here!"

"Let us come together in this moment of grief and sadness, and let us find comfort and strength in each other.”

She went to shout again, and instead retreated in. "Fuck you," she muttered as the room began to disperse, folks inside depserate to leave the stuffy or freezing gymnasium, whichever extreme it was currently sat in. She'd watched Abel Ramirez use his canlde to light a cirgareete of some kind, which she tried desperatley to pinch as she floated alongside him, to no avail. With the gaps in her memory and the looks the guy was being served, she was wondering what the crowds knew that she didn't. The football field was almost full with crowds, the games attracting less people than she had (Take that football!), and it was easy to spot other faces in the crowd, though the next she saw practically called her to him.

“ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ”

She puased as the words floated through her mind like leaves in a river. Miles was texting her again. She'd given up on trying to respond, and shortly after on ignoring it, though a quiet part of her wished for him to stop, that the interaction wasn't helping either of them. But she couldn't stop him, couldn't even touch him for crying out loud. Miles' texts had been a welcome distraction and often provided something to do. She maneovered over the crowd to a tree the two had discussed calculus homework underneath (did he remember?) and sat herself nearby. The chat bubbles showed he was carrying the conversation alone, but she still tried to speak up.

“ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ”

"If you stopped texting me I might," she replied dryly next to him, then tried to rest back against the tree. With enough focus, she could lean on solid objects, but people were beyond her. "I hope you have some too," She whispered. It wasn't long before Abel had made his way over to the same tree, and Amber leaned back to listen in on the conversation.








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birdbrain | Maddox Davis












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Dax didn’t want to be here. Not at all. But he wanted information, and this was the best place to get it for right now. So, he was trying his best to ignore his surroundings and the grief that was swelling up inside him.

Just enough to feel the sharpness of his teeth, Dax squished his tongue in his bite, a recent habit he’d developed, at least in the last year or so. It seemed to happen most when he was nervous or stressed. Or at a vigil apparently, because he’d been doing it practically since he walked through the doors of the school Gym.

He kept himself to the sidelines, but in a good enough position to look around and see the faces of his peers and their families. He considered, for a moment, if he should ask some people some of the questions he had whirring around in his brain.

He knew it wasn’t the right time, even if the grief was misplaced with some of these people. Personally, he didn’t know how to handle the emotions that came hand in hand with death. Even though he’d had a loss himself, he found that he never quite knew the right words to say when someone else felt them. He’d keep his distance from them for now, but he was definitely listening for any snippet of anything he could hear, and his eyes were absolutely peeled, on the search for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Anyone that looked suspicious that he could investigate later.

Dax leaned against the wall, the cold brick making solid contact with his back and providing a nice sensory distraction from the torture of Principal Newman’s voice reverberating through the gym, a harsh assault on Dax’s ears. His fingers twitched, he was itching to pull his dab pen out of his pocket. Even just one hit of some good ol’ THC would ease the effect of the overstimulation that came with the Principal’s booming condolences.

He was relieved when the speech was over. He hadn’t really listened to it. (It was noisy and therefore it was nonsensical.) Principal Newman's voice was just the right amount of irritating to get on Dax's nerves, especially being as loud as it was. Grief never really sat well with him, and he knew that the speech would only serve to set his gut ablaze with panic.

Despite the mixed reasons for his grief, it was still genuine. He and Amber hadn't necessarily been what you could call friends but they'd shared a class and been say next to each other and Dax had found himself enjoying her presence. Even if he did drive her a little crazy with her wild theories and his rants about birds. He might ramble on without realizing it a lot, but he wasn't immune to people's reactions, and Amber usually wore a patient but frustrated expression that he just knew he was going to miss.

His grief was more underlying than that, however, as memories of his mother threatened to resurface. Flashbacks from her funeral fluttered through his head, and the Priest's voice bounced around the walls of his mind much like Principal Newman's had just moments before.

Forget information– if he didn't find a distraction soon he'd be drowning in emotions and itching for something much stronger than his good friend Mary Jane.

Panicked, his eyes flickered over the crowd once more as they began to shuffle their way outside, desperate to cling to a familiar figure that he could attach himself to like a moth to a lamp.

Luckily, he found Nicky amongst the crowd rather quickly– somewhere in between heart palpitations and sweat beading up on his forehead. He exhaled slowly in effort to calm himself down and approached his friend.

Nicky was an older friend than the two of them had first realized, having been pen pals for a couple years before Dax moved out to Deerwood. They'd just recently discovered their history and Dax had been incredibly appreciative to have a friend in this new place. And even better, one that seemed to share his curiosity to at least some degree.

"What's up, Crow-Boy? I mean, besides popping up for the vigil and all." Dax tried his best to keep his voice steady, he didn't want the age old question of 'are you okay' to flow out of Nicky's mouth and plague him with a flood of tears. "Have I told you about my theory yet? About what's going down? Oh but maybe I shouldn't say- not here. People might get mad that I'm like boiling it down to bigfoot or something."

He caught himself, realizing what he had implied. "Oh, not that I think it's bigfoot actually but real life, I think some spooky shit is going on." Sure they'd found the body or whatever, but Dax was still convinced that not everything was what it seemed here in Deerwood.






"These shallow waters never met what
I needed. I'm letting go, a deeper dive."

 Faded by Alan Walker







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miles zager-dunst




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siames



mr. fear








Miles sighed, dropping his head as he twirled his finger in the grass at the base of the tree. He wasn’t the best at menial social interactions and hoped he didn't make the poor guy uncomfortable. He looked back in the direction of the straggler and realized he was approaching him. He quickly adjusted his posture and haphazardly rubbed his eyes dry from any residual tears in an effort to look the least bit presentable. He tried to give the guy a welcoming smile but it was much more awkward than intended.

As he approached Miles he realized who it was, Abel. Miles didn't know much about him other than the rumors that swirled around him, the whispers he would overhear, the gossip people would try to get him to entertain. He felt bad for the dude, everyone seemed to have formed their own opinions on him before ever striking up a conversation. He knew the glares and side eyes Able must have been getting had to be laced with even more vitriol than normal, since he was the last person to be seen with Amber. Miles felt bad for him, knowing that the past bit must not have been easy for him. Everyone was so quick to pass judgment on to him, especially the people that didn’t know him or Amber. Hell he wasn't even safe from this, but whenever he saw him in the halls that feeling would dissipate. Able easily could just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He knew that Able must be in a very weird space, how was he supposed to navigate this all? He didn't blame him for lurking in the back of the crowd, Miles wouldn't know what to do if he was in his shoes. Show up to the vigil or not, walking the tightrope of societal politeness must be hell. Miles adjusted so Able would have a space to sit under the tree, not wanting to turn him away.

“Hey” Miles said softly as Able clunkily sat on the grass. The boy smelled heavily of weed. Something he didn't mind, he was used to it wafting from his sister's room. Miles leaned over pausing his music. He and Able haven't ever had a real conversation. Miles was pretty reclusive when it came to making new friends, not wanting to be the one to initiate it.

"You uh.. you knew the girl? Amber…" Able asked him.

Miles nodded. “Yeah…” he said, swallowing dryly. Miles sighed “She was one of my- we were friends.” he said with a frown looking around the crowd failing to make eye contact with able, something he had a habit of. “It's weird, I keep waiting for her to be… okay.” Miles laughed awkwardly. Miles leaned his head against the tree, doing it a little too fast hitting the tree with an audible thunk. “Agh” He pulled his back off the tree rubbing the sore spot on his head. “Sorry.” Miles' gaze met the boys for the first time since he sat down. “How are you holding up? It can't be easy.” he asked not knowing where he was going with what he was asking Able. “I know people have their own theories, and I'm-” Miles realized what he was saying. “Sorry, I-I’m gonna shut up now.” Miles awkwardly chuckled. Miles rubbed his arm nervously, once again red with embarrassment. “I didn't mean to pry.”





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NotVanGogh | Vince Giuliani












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Vince studied Mila a bit closer after she prattled off with, "Sorry. I got distracted." It sounded genuine enough but there was something about her tone that seemed a little off to him. He decided it was maybe best not to pry in that moment, though. That seemed to be a more private sort of conversation maybe, instead of at a vigil at their high school for one of their peers. Timing was everything, or whatever. Besides, Mila had already continued on.

"I'm fine. The parents are schmoozing." That made sense. The Keaton's were good at it though. He always found them to be pleasant, and he had no doubt that other people in this town felt the same as he did. As he moved away, Mila grabbed his hand, threading her fingers through his and started to guide him somewhere-- he wasn't sure where. "How about you? Your mom looked like she was going to have a fit or something."

Vince rolled his eyes at the mention of his mother. "Oh, you know how she is. It's a candlelit vigil and people should have more respect and all that jazz." He huffed a bit as they walked. "As if showing up in a hoodie and jeans makes someone less respectful of the dead. She's too superstitious. And entirely too proper." Despite his words, he did agree with her on some level, but he wasn't pretentious enough to admit it out loud. As they wandered, Vince thought about Mila's hand in his. It felt nice, sure. He'd grown to find comfort in her touch, even if her hands were maybe just a little too cold all the time for his taste. After all this time it was second nature to entwine his hand in hers.

"Pop-pop is the only one with common sense, I swear to you. He came, he respected, he's keeping quiet about everyone else." It wasn't until she squeezed his hand that he followed her gaze and noticed Maddie. He squeezed Mila's hand back, in hoped to comfort her at least a little bit. When she looked at him, he smiled warmly at her and pulled her in for a hug. "You're a terrible listener." Vince was joking, that much was obvious in his playful tone, and solidified by the chuckling that followed. "I'm only half kidding." He whispered before planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Now come on, are we getting candles or not? Ignite my flame baby." It was a weak attempt at humor, but Vince laughed good-naturedly at himself, and this time he began to pull Mila towards the candles.






"So tell me, why do we settle
when we always long for more?"

Edge by Wooly Mammoth







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Murphy Hollis




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The Replacements



I Will Dare








The last few days(? or weeks?) had been eventful for Murphy, which was a rare thing.
People disappeared in this town. Sometimes they just vanished, sometimes they were killed accidentally, and sometimes, like Amber, they were torn limb from limb in a particularly gnarly way. And then nothing. They would do a funeral and a newspaper article, and then no one mentioned it again. No one remembered the similarities. Sometimes they stuck around like Murphy, but not usually. He wasn't the only ghost around Pinecliff High, but he WAS the only ghost worth holding a full conversation with. Until now at least.

maybe that was too judgemental, maybe he was no prize chicken himself, but for 30 years he'd been making do with a 14 year old who'd gotten hit clean through the skull by unsecured theater equipment, a dead teacher who'd been here so long he wandered the halls and barely remembered his own name, and a girl who'd died of an overdose and was eternally as high as a kite. Murphy couldn't remember what had happened to him, but at least he was friendly.

The living weren't much for conversation either. Once in a while if he stood in just the right spot, it seemed like one of the living kids would make eye contact with him, and when Wren was here, it had always looked like she was staring him down when he was near her, but attempts to get her attention had never succeeded. There was Abel, who was the first living person he'd had a two sided conversation with since that girl had accidentally summoned him with a joke seance in the 90's.

And now there was Amber. Having Amber around was the most entertaining thing to happen to Murphy in decades. He hadn't seen her yet today, but had figured she would be here. He'd wanted to be supportive and friendly by showing up to the assembly but there were too many people to avoid someone walking through him and he absolutely hated that, so afterward he'd come out to find her on the field. When he did catch up to her, it was to find her lingering near Abel and another boy. He looked familiar, Amber had probably told Murphy about him at some point.

“I hope you can have some too.”


None of that sounded good. He waited until the other boy had been pulled back into conversation with Abel before approaching behind Amber.

“Hey. Was it a nice service at least? Looks like you drew a crowd.”


Unfortunately if her death was anything like the last one that had looked like this, he doubted mourning her would remain in the public conscience too long. Watching his sisters struggle to move on had been the hardest thing about the transition for Murphy, and it couldn't be easy for Amber to have her friend text her all the time.





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mood
externally trying to stay calm, internally startled ; "i have to be seeing things.."

location
high school gym > outside of the building ; amber's candlelight vigil.

outfit
oversized sweater with a random tee, black cargo pants, & some high top converse.

tags
miles ; Limeaid Limeaid , amber ; Arai Arai , & murphy ; DreamBoy DreamBoy



abel ramirez.


as abel's gaze fell upon miles in an almost analytical manner, his grief began to look more noticeable to the human eye. ramirez was all too familiar with it; the ever so slightly puffy & red eyes, the posture that displayed just how hard of a toll the death of amber was, and the forced smiles to try and hide the truth of his own emotion. it was a stage that he himself had gone through with the loss of his mother, and he could only imagine just how many feelings the other was harboring.

if he hadn't been so high at the moment, eyes stained red, abel may have called it out. but forming the right words seemed to be a current obstacle and part of him wasn't sure if miles was one of many students who all shared the same belief; that abel was amber's murderer. it was best to just stay quiet and listen. in spite of his uncertainty, however, abel felt his heart sink just a smidge when he had revealed his relationship with amber, immediately gauging abel's direct attention again.

"fuck man, this must be hard for you then," ramirez mustered, feeling a little idiotic to have stated the obvious. what could he say to ease miles' pain? nothing. at that moment, words seemed to stall in his throat as his gaze slowly reverted back to the blunt burning slow in his hand; faint orange ambers falling in front of his feet as he tapped the excess ash off, ". . .kinda sounds like you need this more than i do." the words were slow and nearly animated as he found himself dissociating again. it was an old habit he couldn't shake.

without returning his gaze, abel listened to miles stumble over his words, the same old apologies forming yet again having asked a question he automatically deemed as inappropriate. abel, however, didn't take offense. he had dealt with everyone's premeditated opinions of him as soon as word got out that he was the last to see amber. and at first, their assumptions hurt. he may have been an ex-druggie and current pothead with an erratic timeline, but he wasn't a killer. no wicked bone rested within his body that would lead to something so heinous. in fact, abel could hardly stomach the thought of murder, but it was hundreds of students and parents against one troubled teenager. in what scenario could he win?

"nah it's cool, dude. . ." the familiar monotone voice that lacked vivacity sounded as he responded to miles' question, "it's kinda shitty that people would think that low of me, ya'know? i may smoke a bit of weed but that doesn't mean i killed am-" his words trailed off into silence when he raised his head to meet miles again. only this time, he was greeted by two extra guests. he recognized the female almost instantly, abel's glossy eyes showing a hint of fear at who he was seeing. next to her was a teen that looked to be about his age, presenting the same eerieness that was immediately deemed as supernatural.

suddenly, the subtle breeze wasn't the only thing sending chills up his spine. and he couldn't help but feel stuck as he realized he left his final thought towards miles' cut short. maybe i should stop smoking for a while, he thought to himself.


© weldherwings.

 






Amberlance | Amber Mcdonnell














Amber's pathetic pining for the living was interuppted by her new self proclaimed best friend, and the only other dead person Amber could stand talking to for more than 3 sentences.

“Hey. Was it a nice service at least? Looks like you drew a crowd.”

"Ah yes Murph, that's what I was hoping for my effigy, a big turnout," She replied dryly, then turned to face him, face miserable. Murphy had found her shaking in the library as her body parts had been carted away by the forensics team, and she wasn't ashamed to say she'd cried on him when she realised she wasn't entirely alone. He'd shown her the limits of what they could do, and that there was still hope she could eventually pass on and go...wherever else she would go. She'd absently wondered how many times he'd had these same conversations with spectres over the years, and Amber was just the latest in a long line of school deaths.

"That one is Miles," She explained for his benefit. "He's the one whose texts keep appearing in my vision," She puased, looking toward Abel, clearly high already. He was doing his best to comfort Miles, who was doing his constant apologise for being Miles act, but in a very Abel way of not being hugely helpful. Everyone knew that something had gone on with his Mom some time back, but she hadn't known the details. And though she'd never told him, she'd privatley thought of them as kindred spirits before his drug habit. She was the school's scholastic success, he it's athletic prowess. And now the school had lost both to death. "That's Abel. He used to play soccer, if you can believe it. Now he gets high,"

Amber found it only fair to introduce Murphy to the people she knew. He'd shown her after all to other ghosts in the school, though some of them were exceedingly dull. The theater kid had reached a level of pretentious unreached by the living, the teacher creeped her out, and the tweaker girl was just plain unhelpful to talk to. So she settled with Murphy, who hadn't really explained his death, but Amber wasn't sure of her own either. Maybe that was a pattern in itself, solve your murder and you get to leave. She began to walk away from Miles and Abel, as best as a ghost could anyway, trying to give some privacy to people who didn't know they were being watched..

As they spoke, Amber privatley wished she could leave the vigil, but is everywhere currently. She'd been surprised at how uncomfortable she felt at people voicing how much they liked her. Oh sure, for some of them, Mila and her gang, it was complete BS. But for some of them, she had touched their lives and not realised. She needed a distraction. She cleared her throat as her voice cracked, trying to hide her displeasure at the whole situation. "I saw um, some kids messing with one of those boards under the bleachers, we can try and mess with that if you want?" she suggested, nodding in the direction. "It's not much but it's better than listening to people be depressed about..." She paused as she turned back to the conversation between Miles and Abel, which had strangely stopped.

Abel was looking at her. Not past her, not at Murphy, he was looking at her. He could see her. He didn't look pleased about it, more downright terrified, but he was looking right in her face. "Murphy," she said quickly, tapping the other ghost and turning to him to look, before starting back at Abel. He was still staring. "Murphy what's happening? He's looking at me, can he see me?" She asked, eyes wild as she stared at him to answer quickly.






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Murphy Hollis




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The Replacements



I Will Dare









"Ah yes Murph, that's what I was hoping for my effigy, a big turnout"


Despite the sarcastic tone, Murphy smiled a bit at the nickname. It had been a very long time since he’d had a nickname.

“Better than the alternative.”


He thought a good turnout was nice, maybe good for closure, but he’d forgotten how different things felt when you’d died recently. Since he’d died so soon after his father, his family had kept everything very private. Not everyone here seemed sincere, but it was a real and tangible evidence that she was dead, and that she’d had an impact on people. It was bad now, but Miles was going to move on eventually, and he knew from experience that that would just be so much worse to see from this side.

He couldn’t exactly say all that though. Hopefully Amber would move on before that started to happen. He hadn’t seen many people die since his own death, but they’d all moved on immediately or within weeks. It was just Murphy, and the ghosts who couldn’t move on because they hardly remembered who they were. In all likelihood, that’s how it would be again after a few more days.


He nodded along with her explanations, already passingly familiar with the two students in front of them. Death was boring, he tended to treat the students like his own free tv show. He did, however, have a habit of making up stories in his head about some of them to keep things interesting. Now that Amber was here and she knew them personally, he would have to be sure to keep facts straight. He did remember that Miles and Amber had been friends, but the texting thing was new. It had to be hard, this afterlife was only palatable if you could put some distance between yourself and the living, he’d never been able to figure out the rhyme or reason behind their earthly ties, why Amber got texts with no phone, why Murphy could have occasional conversations with Abel but had never been able to get his sisters to look at him.


“Messing with kids with a ouiji board sounds GREAT actually,”
he answered, easily distracted from deeper thoughts. When he caught Abel’s eye, he automatically smiled and waved at him, until the boys gaze shifted to Amber.

"Murphy what's happening? He's looking at me, can he see me?


“Oooooooh shit. He can see you too? We should probably stalk someone else before he has a panic attack or something…”








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Mila Keaton




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Conan Grey



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"Pop-pop is the only one with common sense, I swear to you. He came, he respected, he's keeping quiet about everyone else."

Vince had clearly already been talking for a second by the time she remembered to actually tune in and listen to the answer to the question she’d just asked. She’d been around his family enough to infer from just the last bit though. Her own mother had been very particular about what they should show up in, what outfits conveyed ‘sorry your friend is dead’ in the least tacky way possible. Mila wasn’t sure she agreed that they’d accomplished the goal, but looking at the teenagers around them, she couldn’t entirely disagree. Mila had never worn jeans and a hoodie to school in her life, but she especially couldn’t imagine doing so at someone’s wake. The last thing she was going to do was admit to agreeing with Vince’s family about literally anything though.

"You're a terrible listener."

He pulled her into a hug, and she let him, making herself pliable. Sometimes a hug from Vince was secure, and grounding in a way nothing else was, and some days, like today, it was just another thing happening around her.

"I'm only half kidding."

He wasn’t wrong, she WAS a terrible listener, even now she still got into trouble for it in class all the time. Her thoughts were always anywhere but where she needed them to be.
“Right. Sorry.”

Maybe she could pretend the dead girl was getting to her. That was true-ish, but it was unlikely Vince would actually believe her. His joke managed to pull a smile out of her though, and she knocked her hip into his.
“You know I always do.” Once they retrieved their candles, she laced her fingers with Vince’s again and was uncharacteristically quiet on the way out the door of the gym. The chatter of voices in the small hall out to the field was a monolith of background noise that all blended together, and Mila was looking forward to the fresh evening air when she caught a voice set apart from the gossiping and grieving teenagers. She was VERY familiar with her mothers ‘angry and trying desperately not to make a scene’ voice, enough so that it stood out to her amongst the general chatter. She paused abruptly out of reflex, since usually that voice was a scolding directed at her. She stepped out of the crowd, pulling Vince with her to a spot they might be able to eavesdrop from.

“A kid? How are we supposed to keep just sending our kids to school with this going on?”





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mood
not happy to be here
but curious


location
on the field near
the bleachers



outfit
clicky



mentions
nova.the.alien nova.the.alien







i don't want to be here



nicolas lynn



Nicolas wanted to be elsewhere. He hated weddings, family gatherings, funerals, and anything that required his attendance unwillingly. If it hadn’t been for his mother he probably would’ve been at home, already knee-deep in manilla folders filled with clippings and police reports. He wasn’t heartless, but death seemed to fit an unwelcome place in his heart. Not to mention, he hadn’t known Amber well and to be lighting a candle or crying in her honor only seemed to be an insult to her character. From what he’d observed, this obviously wasn’t what she would’ve wanted. Of course, his aversion to such events was hypocritical considering how his time was often filled with pouring over the odds and ends of crime in the area, but as Principal Newman stumbled over the words of a eulogy he obviously struggled to write Nicolas could only remember the uncomfortable pinch of the suit’s shoulder pads to his lanky form at the mere age of seven. He could tell it wasn’t just him.

His mother stood off to the side of the gym next to a few deputies, her face appeared neutrally somber to anyone who happened to glance but Nicolas could see the turmoil behind her usually lively green eyes. She would no doubt be pouring over this case for the months to follow, losing sleep and skipping meals. Nicolas believed someone of her position had to have a certain level of detachment to survive in such a job, but his mother carried each case close to her heart… From the simple purse-snatching to horrific murders. It was all he could do but make the meals until it all blew over, making sure to turn off her desk lamp once the exhaustion finally took over and she’d fall asleep amongst the scattering of papers.

Nicolas chewed on the inside of his cheek anxiously, fingers twitching in his pocket where they itched to light a cigarette. He was starting a bit blind, his mother keeping evidence and knowledge under particularly tight wraps since the discovery of the body. She’d already found him the night it all happened, locked in the bathroom with his radio tapped into the station’s frequency, jotting down notes as the play-by-play came in. As frustrated as she was with his consistent meddling, it wasn’t just a game to him. The quicker the resolution the faster his mother could go back to their family feud nights, inhaling criminal amounts of gooey chocolate chip cookies— the faster the family could finally find peace. Besides, as much as the Deerwood Police Department loathed him… They needed him, cause Nicolas was not afraid to get his hands dirty in getting to the bottom of things.

He was grateful for the transition outside, that way he could lose his mother’s gaze in the chaos and find some spot under the bleachers to decompress and start surveying the crowd. Nicolas was sure that whoever had done this was obviously here and he knew his mother was probably thinking the same thing. It was practically a staple for a killer to visit funerals or vigils of their victims, oftentimes obsessed with seeing the pain they’ve caused. Though, his stealthy escape wasn’t as good as he’d thought.

Dax was like a fountain, or perhaps a babbling brook of a human. Someone Nicolas probably would’ve avoided like the plague on any given day but had now somehow found himself entangled (willingly so) with. His eyebrow shot up instantly at the other’s words though he wasn’t surprised. After being a penpal with the other for quite some time he’d gotten to know the ends and outs of Dax’s conspiracies. Nicolas of course was far from a devout believer in the unknown, favoring concrete evidence and fact over things he couldn’t see— but he couldn’t deny that he’d always found Dax’s theories wildly intriguing. (The nickname garnered the faintest twitch of his nose but once Dax attached himself to something it was impossible for him to let go). “Spooky?” He huffed out with some semblance of a chuckle, his eyes scanning their surroundings before his hand lightly nudged the low of Dax’s back to usher him toward a quiet spot near the bleachers. Partly out of respect considering they were both more focused on sleuthing than grieving. “You think everything that happens in this town has some paranormal cause… Need I remind you Norma’s poltergeist was simply a raccoon that had been living in her attic?” Nicky cocked his head to the side as his lips fought to twist up into a smirk.

“Do tell though, as long as your theory doesn’t lead me into the damn sewers again”, Nicky was merely teasing but still shuddered remembering the time he’d taken Dax’s word and had the both of them fucking lost underneath the town of Deerwood. When Nicolas finally managed to find a pothole that lead them out into an alley near the bakery on Kinsley Street they were covered in garbage and other things Nicky didn’t want to think about.






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birdbrain | Maddox Davis












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“You think everything that happens in this town has some paranormal cause… Need I remind you Norma’s poltergeist was simply a raccoon that had been living in her attic?” Dax winced, the memory a bit of a sore spot for him. Still, he understood that Nicky's reaction was all in good humor.

“Do tell though, as long as your theory doesn’t lead me into the damn sewers again”.

Dax laughed, amused by the reminder of the sewer. Not necessarily his best point. But Dax had done is research this time, and he was one hundred percent sure.

Dax's gaze fixated on the flickering candles, their gentle glow casting dancing shadows on his face. The solemn atmosphere of the candle-lit vigil enveloped him, amplifying the weight of Amber's absence. Nicolas's skeptical words echoed in his mind, challenging his convictions and stirring a deep determination within him.

"Nic, I know it may sound far-fetched, but there's something more to Amber's disappearance," Dax began, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and unwavering belief. "It's not just about cryptids this time. We're dealing with a pattern, a cycle that repeats itself every five years. Each time, someone vanishes under similar circumstances."

Dax felt as if Nicolas didn't quite believe him as if he was clearly skeptical but willing to hear him out. A wild summation of their entire unlikely friendship. Dax took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts, and continued. "I've done my research, dug into the town's history. They claim to have found the bodies of the missing individuals before, but it feels off, Nic. There are inconsistencies, gaps in the information. I can't shake the feeling that they haven't discovered the true fate of those who've vanished."

Dax leaned closer, his voice filled with urgency. "We're dealing with something beyond our comprehension, something that conceals its victims and leaves us with more questions than answers. It's not a mere coincidence; it's a sinister force that preys on our town every five years, manipulating our reality." Maybe the sativa was hitting a bit too hard, or maybe Dax had really touched on something. Unfortunately no one really had any way of knowing, and neither did Dax.

Dax's eyes sparkled with a mixture of determination and concern. "It gets better. Er. Maybe not the right word considering the circumstances but. Amber wouldn't have gone looking for cryptids willingly. But I believe she stumbled upon something she wasn't meant to see. There's a deeper mystery at play here, one that connects her to the disappearances. We need to uncover the truth." Dax was only mildly aware that perhaps he sounded just a little bit insane. Still, he felt a safety around Nicolas that he didn't quite feel with anyone else, and Nicolas always seemed to get the brunt of his theories.

Dax's voice grew stronger, fueled by his unwavering determination. "Crow-boy, we owe it to Amber, and to all those who have vanished, to challenge the status quo. We can't accept the official explanation and move on. We like, have to delve deeper, investigate every lead, and question everything we've been told. There's a truth waiting to be unearthed, and we owe it to Amber to find it." Sure he might be playing the dead girl role a little too heavy, and sure this might stem a bit deeper into his desire for death to always have some sort of explanation. Trauma did weird things to a person. Still, he stuck fast to his feelings on the matter, both hoping, and knowing, that his best friend would decide to go along for the ride anyway. Not only to satisfy Dax's fantasies, but also to investigate his own theories. Dax knew that Nic couldn't resist a mystery. And... Dax could really use a distraction form the whole, like, actual death thing.






"These shallow waters never met what
I needed. I'm letting go, a deeper dive."

 Faded by Alan Walker







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© weldherwings.
 
Last edited:






miles zager-dunst




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siames



mr. fear








Miles watched as Abel ash off the blunt, watching the orange embers dissipate in the lawn. Miles stared at the spot of grass where the ash had been ". . .kinda sounds like you need this more than i do." Abel said pulling Miles back to reality, something that was getting harder and harder for him to cope with. Miles laughed the first real laugh he had sense Amber's passing. “Thanks but i'll pass, I haven’t ever smoked.”

Miles smiled at the boy sitting across from him. He couldn't tell if he was envious or just in awe of how sure of himself he seemed. He was impressed with how Abel just seemed to be himself. Miles was always so stressed about how other people saw him, how he should be. Miles shifted how he was sitting. He felt this pressure to always be the best, not to let anyone down. Miles listened to Abel as he absentmindedly scraped his tongue between his teeth.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's kinda shitty that people would think that low of me, ya'know?” Miles nodded at Abel. meeting his gaze really taking in the person he only heard rumors about. He didn’t see any of that when he looked at him, he just saw a normal person who’d been turned into the school's scapegoat. People wanted answers, hell Miles did too but Abel was another person and every seemly forgot that well trying to find the truth. “i may smoke a bit of weed but that doesn't mean i killed am-" Abel cut himself off looking at Miles, well not at Miles more so through him.

Miles whipped around expecting to see somebody but he was met with nothing but the sprawling lawn and the lights off the football field. Miles scrunched his face wondering what Abel saw. He turned back to the boy, and saw that Abel looked visibly shaken. “Hey are you okay?” Miles asked in a soft tone, he himself now starting to feel unnerved. “Abel?” Miles put his hand on his shoulder. “Do you wanna leave?” Miles didn't know if he was asking Abel or himself as he felt the hair on his arms stand up. Miles looked behind one last time not knowing if he wanted to see something or not, but once again nothing. Miles stood up “Hey let's get you inside and get some water.” He smiled nervously whilst extending his hand.





♡coded by uxie♡
 






Amberlance | Amber Mcdonnell














“Oooooooh shit. He can see you too?"

What. This was a thing? And Murphy was just getting around to mentioning it? She turned and grabbed him by the shoulders a task made difficult because a) she was shorter than him by a decent margin and b) they were ghosts. But if she put her hands on him it just felt like pushing into a beanbag. Present, but not solid. She yelled at him without meaning to, eyes wildly scanning his face for anything that could possibly give away more information about being seen again. "What do you mean too?! Is he a medium or something?!" She exclaimed, shaking him back and forth.

"We should probably stalk someone else before he has a panic attack or something…”

"Fuck that and fuck him!" She replied. "How come he can see us?" She turned back to look at Abel, who seemed to be spacing out still. Though she couldn't place if that was shock or just general high. She glanced at Miles, trying to see if he recognised anything, but when he looked in her direction, his eyes scanned the treeline like he was looking for something much further away. She glared at her friend, and scowled. "What makes him special," she stated, not even bothering to direct it as a question. Miles had stood up and that was that, moment over.

This was an excitng prospect to say the least, that she wasn't gone from the world, that she was still reachable. But unless Murphy cooperated and told her anything, she was back at square one. In life, she'd never beleived in mediums or mystics or ouija boards, but if there was a possibility the living could reach her, perhaps she could reach back.






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© weldherwings.
 






Maddie_Wheelz












scroll


Holding the candle in front of her, Maddie slowly made her way towards the crowd purposely moving in a direction away from the "sidekicks" she'd had enough of their attention today as it was and decided that out of sight out of mind was probably the best play she could make right now, besides they'd probably run after their trusty queen Mila once again.

The sadness threatened to spill over once again and she quickly brushed it off. Mila had proven that they were not friends again and again and so Maddie couldn't understand why her brain and heart just couldn't accept the cold hard facts.

She's ditched me and moved on, i need to do the same.

Her eyes scanned the crowd as she approached it, not necessarily looking for someone to stand with, she was used to being on her own, she was actually trying to make sure she was nowhere in sight of the sidekicks or Mila herself. She felt a smile grow on her lips as her eyes landed on one person in particular who was standing pretty close to her. All thoughts of her tormentors left her mind as she picked up the pace and quickly moved over to Dax and Nicolas. As she got closer she began to hear bits and pieces of their conversation and smirked as she shook her head.

"So are we playing Detectives or Ghost Hunters?" she asked amusement clear in her tone as she spoke before coming to a stop beside Dax.






"Oh yes the past hurts.
But you can either run from it or learn from it"

- Rafiki (the Lion King) (1994)







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 













mood
extremely unnerved & entirely ready to go home.

location
high school gym > outside of the building ; amber's candlelight vigil.

outfit
oversized sweater with a random tee, black cargo pants, & some high top converse.

tags
miles ; Limeaid Limeaid , amber ; Arai Arai , & murphy ; DreamBoy DreamBoy



abel ramirez.


tw: very short emetophobia trigger???? just to be safe. abel instantly swore at the familiar sensation of the saliva building up on his tongue and his stomach beginning to churn. he had to fight the increasingly overwhelming urge to gag, not wanting to worry miles, though the water collecting in his eyes were a dead giveaway. suddenly, seeing the dead didn't sit right with his gut, especially when he was attending the funeral of the girl whose eyes were boring through his own.

please let me be laced again, he begged to himself, even when he knew that the very blunt he was holding was rolled with his own weed. maybe sleep deprivation was finally getting to him, or perhaps chester's cheese cheetos weren't enough to quench his hunger anymore. there had to be a logical explanation as to why he was seeing amber just a few feet away.

miles' voice brought abel back to reality when he spoke, and eventually he didn't feel so stuck when he seen that the redhead had rose to his feet. before taking his hand, he brought both of his own to his face, careful to keep the blunt a safe distance away from his skin before he chuckled an insincere chuckle. "i need to stop smoking so much," he scolded before taking the other's hand and rising to his feet. abel let go when he was balanced and immeditely flicked the blunt to the ground before stomping on it with his converse.

"sorry if i scared you, man, i just seen-.. well, i don't know," coming up with a lie on the spot was usually effortless to him, but this time he was spooked. out of the corner of his eye, he could still see her pair of shoes rooted to the ground next to the other being, and frankly, he was doing his best trying not to panic even when the blood drained from his face. times like this, he was almost thankful that he had his newfound addiction to lean on. he could handle being called pothead, but being thought of as insane wasn't a title he was trying to earn amongst his others.

"water sounds nice though, let's bounce," abel added, pushing his hoodie off of his head to feel some of the cool night air. the hair at the back of his neck stood up way before the breeze had a chance to dance against his skin.


© weldherwings.

 






NotVanGogh | Vince Giuliani












scroll


Glancing at Mila, Vince noticed a distant look in her eyes, a subtle detachment from their surroundings. He couldn't help but feel a pang of concern, as though his efforts to be a supportive and loving boyfriend were falling short. The desire to protect and comfort her overwhelmed him, urging him to reach out and bridge the emotional gap that seemed to separate them.

Just as he contemplated broaching the subject, Mila's gaze shifted abruptly, fixated on something beyond the crowd. Her grip tightened around his hand as she pulled him away, discreetly leading him to a hidden corner where they could eavesdrop on the conversation unfolding between Mila's mother and Vince's grandfather.

Vince's heart quickened, a mixture of curiosity and unease bubbling within him. Why were they speaking? Of course, his family had known hers for many years, but it wasn't often that his grandfather-- who had said he wouldn't be attending the vigil in the first place-- spoke to Mila's mom. He was more than a bit of a grump, and hardly found himself socializing beyond the necessary. Hiding behind a nearby wall, Vince and Mila strained to listen without being detected.

“A kid? How are we supposed to keep just sending our kids to school with this going on?” Mila's mother was clearly concerned, a touch of panic seemed to paint the edges of her tone, or so Vince thought anyway. He hadn't heard her sound so unsettled before.

Vince's grandfather, his demeanor calm and composed, responded in a voice that sent shivers down Vince's spine. "You must trust in the order of things, my dear. There are forces at play beyond our understanding, but rest assured, we are doing everything in our power to maintain balance and protect the ones we hold dear." Vince's grandfather was never one for pet names, but his tone sounded sickly sweet and almost comforting- if it wasn't so fucking creepy. What did he mean by that? Trusting the order of things?

Vague and cryptic, his grandfather's words raised more questions than they answered. Vince found himself growing doubts fueled by the unsettling circumstances surrounding the murders. His instincts whispered warnings, urging him to figure out exactly what his grandfather was talking about. He squeezed Mila's hand, as if signaling to her a question: 'did you hear that too?'

As Vince continued to eavesdrop, his mind raced with conflicting emotions. Mila's mother, burdened with worry, sought solace and reassurance from someone she believed she could trust, or at least trust to be upfront. Yet, Vince couldn't ignore the suspicion that lingered in the air, the feeling that his grandfather knew more than he let on.

He looked at Mila then, his eyes filled with concern and with confusion.





"So tell me, why do we settle
when we always long for more?"

Edge by Wooly Mammoth







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 






Murphy Hollis




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The Replacements



I Will Dare









Murphy moved to step back from her on reflex, stopped by her grabbing his shoulders. Even relative to each other neither of them were particularly solid, and her hands didn't have the warmth that it looked like they should, he could probably phase through them with a little effort, but Murphy didn't like anything going through him, including other ghosts.
"Fuck that and fuck him! How come he can see us?"

"Hey man, cool it. I'm not the ghost encyclopedia,"
he answered, short but not hostile. He followed her eyes trailing to Miles as he helped up the other boy. Ah.
"What makes him special"
Murphy gently pulled her hands off her shoulders, holding her loosely by the wrists. It wasn't really hand holding, but the contact with another person was grounding when you were invisible to everyone else, plus it would keep her from just grabbing him again. That was super jarring.

"Look, I don't really know. I think maybe people have seen me before, but Abel's the only one that's ever acknowledged it. When we came over I didn't know if he'd see either of us, it's only once in a while. I think, or he randomly ignores me sometimes? I dunno, but it doesn't happen with anyone else. Except that one girl with the seance in the boiler room like fifteen years ago, I don't know what her deal was either, but she was VERY shocked. I wish I did know, I bet someone who knew some crazy science could like, figure it out, but people who know about crazy science probably don't believe in ghosts..."

He trailed off as he realized he was rambling while the other two left, and he actually took a second to read Amber's face as she watched them. It was a long time ago but he definitely hadn't forgotten how painful it is to be looked right through by someone who was actively mourning you, and his expression softened.
"I'm sorry. He's a senior, right? It gets a lot better after they leave."
what he strategically didn't say, was that it also got worse. SO much worse.







♡coded by uxie♡
 
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