incixil

[incixil]

wilkiins​:

A quiet, haunting cradlesong echoed across the empty field, overshadowing the sounds of distressed children’s cry. Mary Margaret recognised her mother’s voice… or was it her grandmother? It was hard to separate one from the other from such a long distance─ and thus, she took a step closer. Then another one. No matter how soundly she was sleeping, the nightmare in the corn still managed to creep up on her, get her out of her bed and set a course for the young girl, without any warning signs of imminent doom. 

The wailing she heard was different than any other night when she would wake up from her sleep drenched in a cold sweat. It wasn’t her voice. By God, if there was a child lost in the field, she had to find them. Had to protect them from… Lord, she didn’t know what they needed protection from, but she couldn’t turn a blind eye to a small girl in need, not after what she had experienced in the very same cornfield. 

“Mama?” Mary Margaret called out into the night… with no response. Before she could take another step, a hand on her shoulder startled her awake. She wanted to scream, but not a single sound left her agape mouth. Suddenly, everything kicked in all at once. Her bare feet, bruised by the sharp gravel, were soothed by the drops of evening dew on the grass by the edge of the field. Her nightgown hardly blanketed her skin, covered in goosebumps from the harsh and cold gusts of wind kissing her exposed arms and legs. “Wh─what?” Mary managed when the initial shock finally allowed her to speak. Instantly, she turned around to see the northern part of town ─ offering her a realisation that she was almost half a mile away from her own home and her warm, slightly rickety bed. What happened? Eventually, her gaze settled upon the stranger who came into the rescue. The young woman had probably met her in passing at some point after her return to Plea, but Mary’s current state didn’t make it easy to distinguish what was real and what wasn’t. “What just happened?”

all her life, Alex had never been called Mama. it rattled her a bit– causing her a couple of seconds to recover from the recoil of that notion. she hadn’t a motherly bone in her body– not that she could tell– nor have the practice to tell her so. she lacked confidence in caring for others, having since failed her deceased wife. she had trouble taking care of herself as well. picking up the pieces of a somewhat broken shell was tougher than the books described it.  yet her eyes fell to the bare feet upon gravel that were also nearing the sticker bugs from the grass that woman might have walked straight into. she’d again pull at her shoulder, carefully as to not cause any more cuts or damage to bare feet.“I think you were sleep walking, maybe dream walking. You... called out for your mother, but it’s just me. I...” she’d shine her flashlight towards her trailer, just a couple of feet south from them. “I live in that trailer, and heard you rustling out here.” 

she spoke with calmness in her tone, yet hushed were her whispers in case the snarling and snickering of the fields could hear them. she had her own trembles and worries to settle, but safety, for both of them, seemed more important given the time of night. “You shouldn’t be out here– between you and me, I think you should stay away from those fields.” releasing her shoulder was replaced with her own feet slipping out of her slippers to offer them to the other. she was careful trying to balance upon pebbles and stone.  

“You can wear these. My feet are used to the gravel...” thanks to Dusty the yellow lab, who often snuck out in the worst of times. who was no doubt waiting for his owner to return to that small trailer of hers. once more reassurance would attempt to soothe, “Come on. Let’s get you inside.” she’d offer her hand to help guide the path back to safety, “You’re not allergic to dogs are you?” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & mary.

[incixil]

tamed-torture​:

When she enters Big Mike’s this evening Lulu lacks even more confidence then normal.  Her arms hurt from the picking, the scratching in those would-be silent moments and she feel half out her mind with worries she didn’t realize she still had.  She doesn’t want to be here. Here. And yet that’s where her traitorous feet have brought her all the same.  This damn cycle has trapped her again, somehow, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to break it this time. 

The relief when she sees Alex, when she calls out to her, it’s palpable.  Lulu doesn’t even realize how heavy her sigh is when the olive branch is offered. Her responding “Please.” is desperate; honest.

Lou practically runs out the bar, though her feet don’t jump above a brisk walk and her fingers tremble too much to light a cigarette.  “S-shit, sorry.  Do you mind….?” she hands the lighter awkwardly to her companion, then runs her hands three times through her hair.  “I’m…really off my game tonight.

it was concerning to say the least, the nervousness in the other woman. yet Lulu looked like how Alex might have felt had it not been for her own couple of shots. she debated switching from Tequila to whiskey, Corn Whiskey, but the effects of those hangovers were much harder to deal with than her 1800 silver shooters. “You look like you need this more than I do.” she’d, of course, oblige. taking the cigarette in her own lips to light it up. it takes no more than a few seconds, practice.

“What’s got you so nervous?” handing the cigarette back in its proper hands, she was careful. she didn’t want trembling fingers to meet accidental cherry burns. “The point of bars are to relax...” yet, she felt a kindred wariness. “It’s as if we like to put ourselves through torture.”

she’d try to chuckle as if to lighten the mood. “I told myself I wouldn’t be back here, so I may know how you’re feeling, but it’s nice seeing you, all things considered. I’d offer to buy you a drink, but only if you’re drinking tonight.” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & lulu.

[incixil]

xf-romvntics​:

“oh, well now that’s too bad. i was so hoping to grab a moment.” as if on cue, a pout aims to make itself known to the somewhat familiar figure as they turn to face her, elora’s hands placed behind an exquisitely designed, though fairly simple ( by her standards ) outfit made up of a frilly, black blouse and nice, form-fitting jeans and leather boots. her back did a poor job of hiding the well-intended and somewhat well-packaged giftbag. having known she’d be on this side of town after a quick trip to tilly’s for her usual meal that day, and having heard word further back that the one in her immediate view happened to reside nearby some time ago, a plan had formulated in regards to how best repay her kind compatriot for the favor once done. 

it’d taken ellie ages to work around to figuring out just what exactly would work in this instance of gratitude, how to match her gleeful daydreams with the reality of what was appropriate for a proper gift. never mind that it’d actually been years back that the aforementioned favor had been done and that there’d been a number of curious inquiries since that surely hadn’t tipped off her intended recipient by any means as the time passed. 

“i have a surprise, if you’re at all open to the idea.” a small step forward is permitted, before elora offers, “i understand if you’re a little too tired to receive me. i know your sweetheart of a pet must be waiting on alert for you.” by which, she obviously meant the woman’s longtime dog and ever vigilant security detail. the few times the nurse had been given access to the residence, the old man had been present in every way despite his aging status.

Dusty the yellow Labrador Retriever wasn’t the best of dogs, but that’s likely because of the age old saying,” a dog is as good as it’s owner”. he was gift given to the old Mrs. De La O, for their first anniversary, making the old pup about ten years old. out of the divorce and the blazing fire, Alex was meant to keep one thing and one thing only, that precious anniversary gift that lit her ex-wive’s eyes up like the fourth of July. because of her love for the dog, he had his own proclivities in his behavior. he was used to discipline in the lesser sense, and he knew that if he’d have chewed up any of Mrs. De La O’s hats, he’d have still been met with cuddles and kisses and even STILL allowed to sleep on that bed of theirs. Alex, however, was still giving the pup the cold shoulder since her favorite black Stetson was ruined. 

elora knew of this predicament–the standstill between spoiled old pet and stubborn tired owner. it was the easiest topic of conversation for Alex aside from the corn... “Ellie,” the mere sight of her could turn a tired frown upside down. “You know I didn’t mean it, and you know just as well as I do that Dusty is clawing at the front door screen trying to get out. Especially if he hears your voice. You make him go all crazy, you know.” 

“It’s a good thing he’s getting old. If he were still a pup I imagine he’d have ran into the fields a dozen times already.” a surprise, she assumed meant the visit to which Alex nodded. “Your company is always a nice surprise. ‘Course I’m open to it. But why aren’t you at work? You didn’t take your day off just to come visit did you?” –if that were the case, Alex wouldn’t feel guilty about taking the rest of her day off either.

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & elora.

[incixil]

Dust to Dust | The Civil Wars

we’ve been lonely we’ve been lonely, too long

#;; playlist.

[incixil]

ccwardly​:

It happens often. Oddly enough, that eased Rohan’s mind a little. If it happened often, hell, even if it had happened only once before — at least that meant he wasn’t alone. Someone else was drawn to whatever it was that was happening in the north of town, even unwillingly as he seemed to be that evening. None of it made any sense, but perhaps that was for the better. If it made sense then it might seem real. 

The person’s warm reception was appreciated, and her change of subject saved Rohan the trouble of getting back into the car and running away. “I don’t have a trailer.” He began, an unpromising start if he was going to at least even attempt to come across as sane. “But maybe I’d like one.” That wasn’t far from the truth, maybe he would like one. Maybe the dinginess of a trailer would suit him well, come to think of it. “I think I’d like that tour.” Anything to stop him getting back into that car. “Do you live here?”

“Yeah.” despite her invitation, there was a hesitation in speaking of her own trailer. the words would fall off the tongue quickly, as the hat upon her head cast a shadow of an affirmative nod. ironically Alex didn’t feel her own lot was safe. she’d continue to hitch that trailer in that specific spot despite this inner shilly-shallying. if anyone deserved to live in torment, it was herself and for that she’d bear a martyr’s cross. “I live here.” she’d begin her complaints first. “Because of the gravel and all, it’s kinda hard to keep the truck clean. So I’d suggest you get ready to wash your own vehicle.”

with a pull of her neck, she’d motion his attention to start down a path towards the west first. “This ain’t like no other fancy trailer parks, so we have to walk the grounds. I asked for one of those fancy golf carts but the higher ups weren’t fond of shelling out that kind of money.” if he moved in, that would generate more money– for such necessities. “Now, I don’t know for certain, but I can show you some vacant spots I know of. I can’t quote you availability or anything like that, but I know they’ve been empty for some time.” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & rohan.

[incixil]

benevolentscarecrows​:

Her arms wrap around Alex and Tilly gives her a tight squeeze. She knows Alex remains distant from the town, but Tilly still welcomes her like an old friend. “I think even if all the pipes were replaced and a new roof put on, something would still leak,” One of the many perks of having an old house passed down to her. Yes, Tilly had inherited the homestead, but she inherited all the mechanical problems that came with it. Alex, she knew, would always be down the street to help with her endless repairs.

“That’s not a problem,” Tilly nods her head back towards her rusted truck. The gravel crunches under her feet as she expects Alex to follow right behind. “I know I don’t have to, but I always make too much as it is. You’re welcome to have whatever you like,” Besides, her mama and daddy didn’t eat as much as they used to. If Tilly didn’t give some away, it would wind up sitting in her fridge for weeks and going bad. “You can leave one of those TV dinners of yours for another week.”

a scoff carried in the wind as she followed Tilly to the truck. yet she’d continue to speak over the hood as if she were tall enough to get her sentences out. “You ain’t lying about that. How’s everyone by the way?” it sometimes felt cruel to ask about Tilly’s parents, since anytime Tilly spoke of them it seemed to be far from good news. “It’s who’s under roof that matters after all. Isn’t it?’ she’d try to flash a reassuring smile despite her question and hoped for the best answer. 

she’d no sooner round the truck and use the roof as leverage to help herself climb aboard. she felt a little worried about leaving Dusty alone in her trailer, but she’d just let the pup out on her lunch break. he’d be upset with her for not feeding him at the exact time he’s meant to have dinner, but she’d have to remember to bring him a leftover plate of fishbones. “You know I read somewhere that the special groups were actually insanely anti microwave meals, back in the 50′s since it meant that women were cooking less, and working more. So if you think about it they had a big part in second wave feminism and all that by freeing up a lot of time. Not that I have anything against cooking– They’re actually supposedly a great replacement– if you don’t think about that radiation and all.” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & tilly.

[incixil]

foolishfxte​:

to be honest, river never wanted to talk about that night; he consequently kept quiet at the police station first, later during the trial, then at home, then… he just consequently kept this loop going. he believed that if he acted like it never happened, people would forget - but they never did, and to be fair, he couldn’t forget either. it haunted him all those nights when his mind wasn’t clouded by unhealthy amounts of cheap alcohol; so he wrote it down, words messy and inconsistent, drew the flames as long until his pen cut through the paper, then… swore to never talk about it again.

but he was here now, lower lip caught between his teeth until could taste copper on his tongue; if there was anyone who would understand, that was definitely alex - she seemed to understand the whole issue with the corn field, whatever that issue was, better than anyone else in this town, so if there was anyone he could trust with the details, it was definitely her, right? or maybe just share a little piece of the truth, for her to figure out on her own? 

“well, actually… with a lighter and half a bottle of vodka. guess i just… got lucky that it caught on fire, you know.” he shook his head with a small laugh, ignore the ever so slight bad feeling that settled in the back of his mind at the words that followed; he didn’t want to think about what would it take if he was to set the damn thing on fire again. that chapter was left in the past - and honestly, whatever it was that hid between the cobs gently swaying in the wind.. he didn’t want to anger it. “not sure i wanna repeat that, though. don’t wanna go to jail… nor see what’s in that fucking field.”

silently, she’d agree. a couple of nods from her chin would weigh heavier than anticipated. she was torn on the idea. knowing what he’d gone through and knowing that she too had a record down at the station would only pull her towards his positions. she didn’t wish to end up in the slammer of all places. she had a good job finally and her license back. the people of the town would always look at her funny, but it didn’t give her a reason to do something insane enough to change those looks from funny ones to dirty ones. she’d mentally note– she had both a lighter and a bottle of vodka somewhere in that damn trailer of hers. “Lucky you made it out– more like it.”

she’d reposition the glasses upon her face as she settled in those thoughts a moment longer. “I can’t seemed to think of what would be worse. Doing time over arson or what it is in there finding us and doling out it’s own justice...” 

because whatever was in that field was likely judgemental and ruthless and unforgiving of those to cause harm. she imagined the corn stalks as appendages to a much bigger and more powerful being than that of any human. a police entity had no claims for intruders if the corn had a say so... right? “Hm.” she’d wonder out loud, “I think vindication would put me at ease, ‘less it be as horrifying as it sounds– as my brain paints it out to be. It’d be nice to have proof, is all I’m saying.” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & river.

[incixil]

bctrayed​:

Osvaldo’s trailer was a far cry from his five bed, three bath, Victorian back in Iowa City. It smelled of stale cigarette smoke and he’d found roaches in his shower on his first day there. He was appalled at first, but he was able to swallow down his privilege to accommodate his situation. As the months grew on, he had become accustomed to his tin can home. He didn’t have a problem emptying the roach traps anymore. 

His day had been long. A full day of mopping and waxing the floors at the local high school had made his back scream and his hands ache. His plan was to toss his trash and head directly to bed. His old bones weren’t what they used to be. He slipped the full bag from his dollar store bin and headed out the door to the communal dumpster. After heaving his trash away Os turned back towards his trailer, wiping his hands on his pants out of habit. He spotted the maintenance worker yards away, toolbox in hand and offered a wave. They both appeared exhausted, he appreciated that in an odd way. “No,” he said, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans and heading towards her. “I mean, I would love a new soaking tub, if you got one in there,” he teasingly gestured to her toolbox. He was tired, and as such his the subtle lull of his Spanish drawl permeated his words. 

she’d chuckle at his words. a slow head shake in denial of a request stung, since she too was in that same boat. a new tub sounded like a dream. or at least one that didn’t mold over so quickly. “That I don’t got.” she’d tip her hat at him with an apologetic smile. typically she’d be on her way but something about their run-ins gave her a courage to ask. “I’m almost off anyway. Wondering if you’d like some company.”

it was a selfish request of her, and one that was spent spoken with a subtle shaking of her boots. truth be told, Alex was finding it harder and harder being on her own and so close to the curse that was near the trailer park. she’d stick her hands in her pockets and approach closer. slowly– the crunch in the gravel was hardly audible. “Promise I won’t ramble about the-” she’d wave her hands motioning towards the northern part of the park, “You know. And I can bring beer.  Probably shouldn’t be drinking on my own anyway... What do you say?”

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & osvaldo.

[incixil]

@wilkiins​ 

she heard crunching in the gravel. the sliding of rocks too and from their silent spots in her driveway disturbed the temporary peace that was the swaying of the cornfields. it was different from the sounds that she typically heard at night– screams and snarls. she cursed herself for drinking instead of installing those neon Chirstmas lights she’d bought earlier that day. it was meant to give her extra light for moments like these. that and festive decor.

of course, the first speculation regarding the noise wasn’t a raccoon. that would be too normal for a place like Plea, and their cornfields. instead, she’d grab her trusty old flashlight and head for her front door. “Hey. You shouldn’t be out here.” 

the other didn’t seem to respond right away. their feet kept moving, and edged closer out of gravel and toward the field. with the light shined on the other, Alex would try again, “Hey, lady!” –but it appeared to be a moot point.  “Shoot–!” the woman kept walking, but Alex’s fears wouldn’t keep her stationary. there was only a matter of time before the other would hit the outer rim of the fields. Alex followed. her own slippers slid against gravel as she made her way to try and shake the sleep walking woman. “Hey. You can’t go out there.” with her fingers placed upon the other’s shoulder, she’d try to pull once more, delicately, for the slumberous woman looked peaceful despite her reckless walking, “Did you hear me? You don’t want to go out there.”

#;; alex & mary. #;; alex: threads.

[incixil]

@thesiickly​ 

it had already been looked at– yet a work order was placed for a dishwasher leak once again. she’d take a step back and speak to the thing out loud, “You’re an anomaly, most trailers don’t have the space for appliances like you, but that doesn’t mean you won’t work.” yes, the dishwasher had won it’s first round in their apparent maintenance battles to come. she’d shake her head, run the tap and begin to fill the sink to make sure the water pipes were just fine. once the basin was filled halfway, she’d unplug the sink, then run the disposal to see if the water would float down into those pipes. nothing. 

a sigh followed– heavy, masking a silent curse as she assessed the damage. she’d then move to the cabinet doors, opening them. from the latch upon her belt, she’d take a wrench and tap at pipes, which was a horrible mistake. the water from the sink, WOULD decide to spill through as screws took their descent from the pvc. Alex looked like a complete idiot as she shot up from her crouching and flailed around for a bowl to catch the rest of the water. “Could I bother you for a mop? Or maybe a towel...” she’d offer only one explanation, “I think it’s unclogged now... if that helps?”

#;; alex & hollis. #;; alex: threads.

[incixil]

bctrayed​:

Os huffed slightly as he plopped the soggy mop head back into his bucket with a unfavorable squish. If the stranger was up to no good as least he knew the security cameras would validate his claims that he tried to shoo her away. He shook his head, lightly as he began to roll his mop bucket back towards the door from which he came. He glanced back over to the stranger. There were no paint cans in her hands and no malic in her posture, but he did notice something else; a glint of nostalgia in her eyes. 

He stopped rolling his bucket, both hands clutching the handle of his mop as he gazed up at the quiet school, a monster sleeping, then back to her. “You seem like you know this place,” he said from his stance about ten feet away. The residents he had encountered in his four months of Plea residency hadn’t been the most accommodating. He was weary, but his longing for human interaction got the better of him.  

“Yeah...” hands in her pockets, she’d approach still nervously cautious. “Well not as much as others would know it. I only know it from the outside, I mean.” she couldn’t pick up on how suspicious her words could sound– “I mean I went to a couple of football games here. Different school, same district for football.” she’d shrug in nonchalance, “Not but choice, of course, I was in band, back when things were much simpler and I didn’t know the things I know– seen the things I’ve seen.” allegedly saw, since, there were explanations like guilt for seeing her ex-wife in those fields... 

she was speaking in mumbling, hushed tones. despite being so south of town, and so far away from those fields, she felt as if they could hear her speak. she felt that sometimes if she spoke too much of them, they’d make her nights worse– in those apparitions and nightmares that would haunt her psyche. “Being south of it all helps me clear my mind– helps me focus.” but she felt like he didn’t need to hear about her problems, “Do you think it’s changed at all? The freedom of it– I mean, at least those kids are expressing their creativity...” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & osvaldo.

[incixil]

benevolentscarecrows​:

The door to Tilly’s truck slams shut with a swing of her hip the moment she’s cut off the ignition and stepped onto the gravel roadways of the trailer park. They’re her closest neighbors in Plea ( and have to deal with the cow’s stink and the plowing tractor’s ) and as nice as Tilly tries to be with them, when something inevitably breaks down at home, the repairman is the first person Tilly goes to find in the maze of mobile homes.

“Not sure if the head honcho can help me,” Tilly shouts over to Alex. She plants her feet in the gravel. “Roof’s leaking. Again,” Even though no rain had fallen from the sky, new leaks always seemed to seep through her roof from old water pipes, old puddles, old old. “Care to take a look?” She asks next, and knowing her history with Alex, she offers up a deal. “I’m fixin’ some oven-fried fish with potato salad that you’re welcome to have if you take a peek at those pipes again.”

“Oh, hey Tilly.” she should have known it was her by the sounds of the truck. it had a nice hum to the engine and smelt of a particular stain of oil. Alex set her toolbox to the ground and would approach the old friend with a signature greeting– a hug, and, of course, a wavering smile. she’d chuckle since, Tilly was right in that the head honcho couldn’t exactly book an outsider for a maintenance request. “When isn’t the roof leaking?” 

pulling away from their quick hug, Alex would look at her watch. the tiny hands were still slowly moving as the little hand reached the 12. she scoffed as if time could speed itself. “I guess I could. There hasn’t been any requests in the last hour so I assume I can take off for the day. anything to get her away from the cornfields for a couple of hours– her lights would have to wait for another time.  “If you drive me to the front office I can punch out and grab some tools–” the tape measure at her utility belt wouldn’t be enough to save some damaged pipes.

“You know... you don’t have to bribe me with potato salad to get me to look at some pipes.” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & tilly.

[incixil]

ccwardly​:

Rohan wasn’t usually one who dabbled in curiosity. He tended to either not care at all or do his own research if something piqued his interest, which did bear the interesting trait of making him an encyclopaedia of odd knowledge, but that was besides the point. The point was that Rohan was stewing, his mind constantly returning to that hideous noise that he’d heard coming from the north of town a few days ago. Nothing he could do to keep himself occupied was enough, every unfilled moment in his mind echoed the sounds of the screaming and it was driving him mad. Sleepless nights weren’t unusual but the worry of it all had darkened the circles under his eyes, it had dirtied his hair from neglect of using a shower and had caused him to bite away at his fingernails until there was barely anything left.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Hardly even realising, Rohan had got into his car (the point of him having one was questionable, since he had never gone out of town) and driven north. It was a wave of courage but, as is in the nature of a wave, it was swept away quickly. A tightening in his chest made him pull over when he saw lights, barely even knowing where he was. The voice took him from his daze, and he got out of the car for fear he might carry on driving up to the cornfield. For all he knew he could have been dreaming. “Sorry,” He mumbled, brow deeply furrowed and feeling as if he had been disturbed while sleepwalking. “I don’t… I don’t really know why I came here.”

“It’s okay. You’re good.” she’d stand awkwardly, eyeing the fellow carefully. he didn’t seem good. it might have been strange that a stranger would make his way towards the northern part of town, but Alex had seen and heard stranger things. given the other’s demeanor, she assumed he had too. yet she wouldn’t outright ask– she felt like she just knew. “It happens often, given the–” she waved her hand in dismissal as she tried her best to lie, and not outwardly speak the fear itself. yet it didn’t happen often– he was the first to show up on her knowledge, but if he felt anything like her, feeling validated was worth something.

“I can give you a tour of the park if you want? If settling here is something you want. You’d have to talk to the guys upfront if you want to park your trailer in one of these spots. I know it’s not much, but having a look at homes makes it feel less–” she was projecting again. putting her own insecurities on this poor man. “I only mean, it’s safe here for the most part.” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & rohan.

[incixil]

@tamed-torture​

it’s only on rare occasions that Alex finds herself in public. but even in public, she rests her boots in the corner of establishments– tucked away and hidden from whispers and concerns. an alleged arson and drunk driver in the bar would not be good for business. her place in the back of the building was safe from others since, she also was also known to cause fights. or rather, her drunken incessant insistence and obsession with the northern cornfields would slip as the shots of tequila unfiltered tame blood. people didn’t like when she opened up, but not anymore than she hated the blackouts– many knew not to speak to her for that reason. she had a screw loose, after all.

being so close to the back door meant that she could easily leave her spot in the corner, and smoke in the back. as she stood up from her little, booth, however, eyes would fall upon someone she might have expected to be sipping her own drinks, “Hey.” 

it was a poor greeting, seemingly mutedthere was instinct to attempt to hide her own longneck bottle in shame. eyes would flicker though seeing a familiar face made Alex feel a little better. 

“I was about to take a smoke break if you wanna catch up.” 

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & lulu.

[incixil]

@foolishfxte​

there was a saying two peas in a pod that typically meant something along the lines that though they are not related they look alike. over the years the meaning sort of lots it’s accuracy, but when Alex thinks of that notion, she understands that River’s on the same wavelength as her. perhaps they are contained not in the same pea pod, but influenced by the corn fields instead. “I’m sorry to ask, but I have to know...” 

she rubbed the side of her neck, as her stance swayed in a ghost-like inebriation from the night before. her hangover was shielded by the sunglasses she wore. inquisitive yet, cautious eyebrows would raise behind the circular dark lenses. “Just how did it happen. The fire. Do you remember how many cans of gasoline you used... or did you really light a field on fire with just a lighter?”

it’s what she’d heard around town that would prompt her to ask such questions. she’d go quiet for a moment before revealing her reasoning for the question, “I think a lighter wouldn’t be strong enough now days... I think it’s too strong... too.... big.” as always a, yet hidden by sunglasses, the fear in her eyes would flush her face a shade lighter, paler.

#;; alex: threads. #;; alex & river. #// lmk if this is okay !

[incixil]

// hello, hello, i’m jer and happy to be here. I’ve gathered a doc for easy plotting here ( x ) and I’m excited to draft more starters/ replies if anyone is interested, I’ll come to IMs if that should be the case 😎

#;; ooc.

[incixil]

her day was almost up, meaning the sun was going to set in about two hours, which meant she could spend her free time installing more lights around her trailer. it was starting to get darker in the northern cornfields. no one seemed to notice, but not everyone lived closest to the fields. and most importantly, no one was as perceptive as she was.  with her tool box in hand and a pair sweat beads dripping from her temples, she earned, at least, a couple of hours to herself. there was a hopeful promise that no emergencies would surface that night, and if they did, the lodgers in Sunnyside trailer park would  have to ask the other guy to help out. she would be busy. she had a date with a couple of longnecks and a a pack of cigarettes. once those lights around her trailer were attached and safe havens for her dreadful nights, she’d heat up a microwave dinner, put on some tunes from her old radio and dive into some newspapers. her boys Bud (light) and Marborol would keep her company until she read herself tired.

she had a very perceptive feeling that this wouldn’t be the case. as crunching gravel would come to a halt. if she weren’t still on duty, she wouldn’t have inquired,“I’d ask you if you need help, but I’m a little tired today… you should file a case with the head honcho.” 

#;; alex: starters. #;; alex: threads. #slitcstarter