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jcdas · 9 months

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taylor russell. cis woman. she/her. ⸻ i saw BIRDIE LAMBERT around THE WOODS, you know? the 25 years old that was driving from BEAUFORT, SOUTH CAROLINA when they saw the tree on the road. BIRD has been here for SIX MONTHS and i think they were A MENDER before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night on their own.

TELL ME / WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

full name abilene lambert birdie faye lambert nickname(s) bird, faye (birdie is reserved mostly for loved ones) age twenty5 gender identity cis woman orientation unlabelled place of birth beaufort, south carolina date of birth august 16th faceclaim taylor russell former occupation small-time mender & hitchhiker positive traits ardent, perceptive, resilient negative traits morbid, impetuous, delicate moral alignment chaotic good parallels amma crellin (sharp objects), maren yearly (bones & all), india (stoker), abigail hobbs (hannibal) current residency the colony house current occupation laundress for the colony house BIOGRAPHY tw for the following content: childhood trauma, illness & abandonment, mental illness and murder.

you do not enter this world alone, but you do happen upon it utterly starved & half dead. your sister comes first, and you follow shortly behind ⸻ with all her same parts, but worse. you emerge a novel shade of blue, witholding infant wiles because even then you knew how to wield attention to your liking if there were going to be two of you. you’ve been a gaping maw since then, devouring anything within reach simply because you could. you gulp life as if it were something you were starved of. in all truth, you’ve always gotten what you’ve wanted, it was only a matter of having more.

two little girls with bad heart, both still rotting from the outside in. mama says she thought the water would be good for you so your family upped and moved to the closest thing to it when they could afford it. you're still hardly a wink near the southern marshes but mama still paints the house blue to ward off those bad spirits. your dad leaves for the first time real soon after that, part of you still thinks the blue is what warded him off ⸻ that maybe it was best that mama's own superstition hadn't allowed him past the front porch.

ain't this good, bird? she'd say, fingers swept up in your never-done hair because half your childhood was spent mustering the strength to climb out of bed. just us girls. you didn't much like it, but it would stay like that for a long while. a mother-wound doing her very best to raise two little girls that had gone rotten in their own ways. you had always been a spindly little rose, luscious from first glance but when people were close enough to touch you they could feel that dry, hollowness you exude even now. the withering bud your ma had managed to overwater in the dry season. even with a pink teddy perpetually tucked beneath an arm you were still all teeth.

the liar and the thief, if competition were made between you and your sister, you were by far the finer lambert girl. even in your ailing condition your mother had mulled through you with a fine tooth comb, ensuring that you and you alone would be the one she would pour all her efforts into. you would be doted: the one better loved from the top shelf of ma’s china cabinet ⸻ she thought life was too abbrasive for you so you were kept tucked away. except this love was more of a gentle taxidermy, in time you would know what it meant to keep the dead things alive.

when you are old enough you will learn that the best place to harbor things ⸻ the best place to bury a body, is within yourself. you would tell mama that it was an incident what happened to your sister, that you didn't mean to dig in the knife ⸻ to twist. but even as you had promised in the womb, she would be your wound as you would be hers. surely there were the startling differences between you as children, but you were the maw remember? your sister had taken everything from you, so when you had sat on it for just long enough, you decided that you would carve out those pieces of yourself in her & make them yours again.

mama couldn't stand the sight of you and for the first time in a long while, you think ⸻ let alone miss ⸻ your father. you leave in the night like he did, and you've been nothing but a whisper on the wind since. you were just a girl then but you still take that peach fuzz softness and cast it over the vile bits you. too many teeth where they shouldn’t be, and too sharp to be just that. in a childhood turned crime scene, you were the rabid thing that had been tied up in the powder blue bow & now you're something much worse than you could have imagined. your sister may be dead, but she lives on in you.

#𝐁. 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓⠀ ⠀ 〳 ⠀ ⠀abt #feverishly wrote this at 2am so #from.intro

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rosegoldfizz · 9 months

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❝ AT THIS POINT, I’VE BEEN LIVING IN SURVIVAL MODE. ❞

ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ⸻⸻ i saw STEFANIE BACALL-BROWN around THE TOWN, you know? the 24 year old that was driving from ASPEN, COLORADO when they saw the tree on the road. STEVIE has been here for ONE YEAR and i think they were a MEDICAL STUDENT before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. let’s hope you at least survive the night. ⸻ frankie, she/her, 27, cst, n/a triggers.

GENERAL INFORMATION. ⸻

full name — stefanie kinsley bacall-brown

nickname(s) — stevie

age — 24 years old

gender identity — cis woman + she ╱ her ╱ hers

orientation — bisexual ╱ demi-romantic

place of birth — tbd

date of birth — november 15, 1998

former occupation — medical student ╱ retail sales associate

3 positive traits — ambitious, warmhearted & trustworthy

3 negative traits — suspicious, blunt & paranoid

moral alignment — lawful good

face claim — abigail cowen

TOWN INFORMATION. ⸻

current residency — somewhere within the town

current occupation — server at the diner

BIOGRAPHY YOUR CHARACTER'S BACKGROUND. ⸻

tbd

#from.intro

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caedesz · 9 months

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❝ I'VE BEEN STARIN' DOWN THE BARREL OF ANOTHER LIFE ... SAID I 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖫𝖣'𝖵𝖤 𝖡𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖠 𝖫𝖠𝖶𝖸𝖤𝖱, WE WOULD'VE BEEN 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙴 THEN. ❞

────── ❝ I. ... OR, BASICS.

full name: scout jude vonnegut. nickname(s): none. age: thirty2. gender identity: demi man. orientation: bisexual biromantic. place of birth: port isaac, cornwall. date of birth: may 6th, 1991. former occupation: electrician. three positive traits: assiduous, blithe, equitable. three negative traits: languid, satyric, ornery. moral alignment: chaotic neutral. faceclaim: aaron taylor - johnson.

────── ❝ II. ... OR, TOWN INFO.

current residency: the town. current occupation: handyman.

────── ❝ III. ... OR, HISTORY.

i. you can divide it all, can’t you ? two categories: the before, the after. you shouldn’t be able to remember them in such vivid detail. christ, you were only a kid-

ii. before, part one: your mother, she wasn’t expecting twins. in truth, she hardly wanted one. twenty - three to his forty - four, they exist as a cautionary tale. ( did you hear about elizabeth lawrence ? shame, she had such a promising future. / loose lizzie, gave it up for her poetry professor. ten pounds says he wasn’t the first one she’d fucked. / for a good time, call 01632 960062 ! ) she, wide - eyed student in awe of her older, glamorous professor ; he, preening under the attention of a pretty little undergrad, brimming with promise & the scent of pink candy on every delicate pulse point. puerile wonder meets erudite grace, it’s a hell of a combination & it never ends well. ( you know her friends called her the next sylvia plath ? well, if the shoe fits … ) it is the kind of tale with only one end — lust turns lukewarm, regard becomes resentment. it takes him exactly eight months to realise that he’d made a mistake / twelve to slip into someone else’s bed & leave your mother’s achingly cold / sixteen to start planning. ( in muted conversation with his mistress, he’d called it wiping the slate clean. just a shame he forgot to do the same to his call logs. )

iii. before, part two: she loved you. she didn’t like a lot / you remember her in expressions: furrowed brow, tight mouth, crossed arms. she was too young to have the kinds of grooves she did, pressed into creamy flesh so prematurely. she never looked happy around your father. ( he, of the reputation that preceded him … him, you only knew in passing. he was always in his study, rarely at the dinner table, never there for the moments that counted. later, you would look upon the figure shackled at the wrists & hardly recognise him. ) with you, & your sister ? she was the picture of delight, gilded warmth & maternal joy, scented like fresh linen. you can remember the taste of sea salt on cracked lips, a thick coat from where the three of you would spend hours dashing meaningless circles in the sand just to watch the tide wash it all away. how were you to know it was the last time you’d feel that, the kind of ebullient happiness that bubbled underneath your ribcage, fierce enough to sweep you clean away ?

iv. the two of you are at a sleepover when it happens. she’s late to pick you up, & nobody thinks much of it until the sun’s threatening to creep down over the horizon & the gravel still hasn’t screeched with news of her impending arrival. your friend’s mum, she’s pacing near the windows / phone in hand, contact details a faint glow, but she pastes uneasy smile over the crack of her mouth. it doesn’t soothe you, so much as unsettle you even more. fatal move: “how about i drive you kids home?” oh, she shouldn’t have / & fuck the backseat of her car, she ought to have swaddled you in cotton, protected you. instead, she delivers you to the sight of your mother’s broken neck at the base of the stairs.

( interlude: oh, the blood … the angle of her neck wasn’t the least of it. framed like a break - and - enter gone wrong, she’d practically been torn apart. what does it say about a crime, that every juror unfortunate enough to be dealt the case of your mother’s slaughter took up the court - offered counselling session ? )

v. the tabloids called it the butcher and the bard. the judge called it one of the most gruesome murders england had seen in a long time. relatives call you lucky, for being in the right place at the right time. what do you call it ? because it tastes an awful lot like survivor’s guilt, like wishing to trade places. you’d fall down the stairs a million times if it meant saving hers / it’d be your neck, your blood. your technicolour imprint, ghosting along the backs of her eyelids every time she so much as deigned to let them flutter closed. ( you never tell anyone, how often you dream of her. how are you meant to ? “did you sleep well?” “nope, saw my mother’s mangled body. again. pass the toast?” )

vi. after: your aunt’s apartment in london ; the seemingly endless drizzle of rain against the windows ( home, school, child psychologist, courtroom, rinse, repeat ). someone seems to think it’s a good idea, for the jury to lay eyes on the children who only narrowly escaped their fate. the collars of your overly - starched shirts itch against your pale neck, you wish you didn’t have to keep coming to these fucking things. the judge casts a sympathetic gaze every time you reach to scratch at your throat / if she had her way, you’d be far away from all of this. instead, the jury rises & it falls & you are there to see it all. unanimous verdic: GUILTY. life in prison, no chance of parole. sole custody, granted to miss margaret lawrence. the therapist they make you go to, she asks you about it & all you can do is shrug. s’pose it could’a been worse, y’know ? he could’a killed me.

vii. & the thing is, he killed a part of you. something — childish wonder, a love of life, ambition, that feathered thing they call hope — it’s slaughtered on the floor with your mum that day, bleeds out right beside her on expensive marble.

viii. the years speed by, the anniversaries blur. the booze helps with that one. at thirteen: you have your first sip of something that hits the bottom of your stomach & makes you feel like the princely twat to pull the sword from the stone. at fifteen: a friend offers you a joint, the world seems to haze at the edges in just the right way. christ, pot’s a fuckin’ wonderful thing, isn’t it ? at seventeen: the drink, the drugs, the deliquency, it all catches up & your aunt can’t go to one more fuckin’ school meeting about your truancy, about your bad attitude. ( about your promise, the way it breaks teachers’ hearts to see you squandering your intelligence, your good heart. maggie lawrence is not a woman that enjoys pity, & your misery doesn’t help to detract from the enormous pile of it that she carries now. ) she sits you down, delivers an ultimatum: you get your shit together, or you get out of my house. you go to school, you get good grades, you stop stealin’ my vodka. you sort yourself out, or you leave.

ix. you leave. it’s the wrong choice.

x. you finish year 12, at the very least, but university is not a topic you so much as consider. in a hangover daze, you peruse local newspapers & online ads, offer handyman services / odd jobs keep you in your vices, & you can’t ask for much more than that. it’s not an active choice, to hide from the world in the way that you choose to, but it ends up happening all the same; it grew so very tiring, watching the recognition spark behind a stranger’s eyes at the sound of your last name. you can only deal with being a public spectacle for so long, before it makes you want to lash out & drink until you can barely remember how to stand, let alone your goddamned name. is it any wonder that you retreat, that you drink & smoke & snort & destroy yourself for a while ?

xi. she comes to you in a dream. your mum, maybe. aunt maggie ? shit. could be your sister too, they did always look awfully alike. in one swift movement, your dream-relation whacks you upside the head & tells you, time to wake up, chucklefuck. you do. you’re also violently ill in the sink, but you’ll leave that part out when you tell the story of how you pulled yourself out from the depths of your psychological despair.

xii. it’s a more conscious choice to return to the world of the living. you apologise to your aunt, to your sister, for being such a right little prick as a kid. ( you owe maggie a fair few bottles of vodka & a few packs of smokes, too. you weren’t slick about any of that, you know ? ) you try to make amends, to fix what you so willingly broke, & the most heartbreaking part of it is how easily it all comes back together. there’s no waiting period, no pacing back & forth waiting to see if your family will have you. your sister wraps her arms around your neck, your aunt presses a kiss to your forehead & manages to wipe away the errant tear that slides down her cheek before you notice. in another world, you deserve a happy ending, a soft epilogue. in another one, you get it.

xiii. the crows are what damn you in the end. your sister, she always had such a fondness for weird birds. as a kid, her favourites were puffins & pacific gulls, you can still rattle off facts about them / it’s the fuckin’ birds. you pull over, snap a photo, & by the time it sends you’re doomed. ( oh, honey. you were always walking a tenuous death sentence. it was only a matter of time. )

────── ❝ IV. ... OR, WANTED CONNECTIONS.

twin sister !!! ↷ prob needs to go up on the main at some pt, but alas ! pls bring his twin sistter who arrived recently bc she was hunting her dickhead brother down <333 very luke/nell crain vibes here. more than a dash of the twin telepathy. the only person who knows him in their goddamn marrow. probs freaked when he fell off the radar & didn’t want a repeat of their whole mommy getting got thing </3

#◟　　†　　　:　　　𝔦.　　　𝚂𝙲𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚅𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙶𝚄𝚃‚　　　　⅋　　　　introduced.#from.intro #death tw #murder tw #alcohol tw #drugs tw #hes straight up not having a good time <3

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nightinghouls · 9 months

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❝ I'VE GOT MY FEARS, I'VE GOT THEM DRESSED UP ❞

brigette lundy-paine. nonbinary. they / them. ⸻ i saw juno pasternak around colony house, you know? the twenty—eight year old that was driving from toronto, canada when they saw the tree on the road. juno has been here for six months and I think they were a bike mechanic before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night.

GENERAL information. ⸻

full name juno elliott pasternak

nickname(s) june, junebug, jay

age twenty — eight

gender identity nonbinary

orientation bisexual, strong preference for women

place of birth guelph, ontario, canada

date of birth november 1 1995

former occupation bike mechanic

3 positive traits creative, altruistic, strong—willed

3 negative traits reclusive, moody, gullible

moral alignment neutral good

faceclaim brigette lundy—paine

TOWN information. ⸻

current residency colony house

current occupation bike + small electronics mechanic, handyman

INSP characters and media. ⸻

frances halladay from frances ha / enid coleslaw from ghost world / james leer from wonder boys / eve from god help the girl / my solo exchange diary 1 + 2 by nagata kabi / lelaina pierce from reality bites

BIOGRAPHY your character's background. ⸻

juno’s parents separated when they were just a baby, and juno ended up with their dad. though born in guelph, fairly soon after their parents broke up them and their dad moved back to toronto, where their paternal grandparents lived. juno spent their childhood between their dad’s house and their grandparents’ house, with the occasional holiday spent at their mom’s, until eventually those dried up too.

they were a strong but frustrating student throughout public and high school, which is to say that they read a ton and could write an excellent essay, but struggled chronically with deadlines, skipped and were late to a lot of class, and nearly failed math almost every year. that juno graduated as an ‘ontario scholar’ is a testament to understanding teachers willing to take months-late work and give make up assignments.

right out of high school they entered college for illustration, sure they wanted art to be their career. college was a disaster; without the constant external prodding of well-meaning teachers, left to their own devices and living away from home, deadlines became completely overwhelming and they dropped out within their first semester. they couldn’t handle the pressure, the self-direction, and most of all, taking care of themselves. they’d always thought of themselves as self-sufficient but once they actually had to do everything for themselves as well as attend classes, they simply couldn’t keep up.

they spent two weeks in hospital after they dropped out due to mental health issues, a stay that refocused their attention: stay healthy enough to stay out of the hospital.

once they were back home and had settled back in, they got a job at the bike shop a few blocks away, starting as a junior mechanic to fill the days and get them out of the house. it was around this time that they started seriously considering and exploring their gender identity. perhaps it was that they were the only ‘female’ mechanic, and that this contrast was brought up to them in a way that it hadn’t been ever before, or maybe it was having a kind of independence without the stressors of school, but whatever the cause the result was the same; many deep, internal questions about their sense of self.

after a year and a bit of working at the bike store, juno decided they’d give university a try. maybe it was college that had been the problem. all the programs in college were so specific, university was more general, you could explore and figure yourself out. so they enrolled in an english literature program.

university went slightly better than college had, but once again as soon as the external stress of school was on them they stopped being able to take care of themself. it was just too much. and so, after six months, they dropped out again. back to the bike shop.

one year turned into two, and then three, and then they’d spent four years living in their bedroom at their dad’s house, even after their little brother had moved out, working the same job. juno liked their job, but still — there had to be more out there. so they started saving up, bought a junker car ( a 1990s volkswagen rabbit ) and decided they would road trip across the united states. they’d never been to the states before, but it seemed like a place full of wide-open possibilities. so, they set off.

they drove through new york and into pennsylvania, and then they saw the tree. the story from there is fairly well-known to everyone. the circling, the attempts to get out. at first they had just pulled over, sure they’d gotten too high before setting out for the day’s drive, resolved to sleep it off. and then there was someone banging on the window and telling them to get out before sunset, to get inside.

they were luckier than most; when they came, they came with most of their stuff. clothing, cds, books, nice but not so useful. their toolkit, now that had value here. they’d attempted to get away from their job, but it seemed that was the best thing they had to offer. bikes are more like clocks than like cars, so juno wasn’t any good at engine repair, but small electronics, the bikes that had made it into the town, and any general handyman-type jobs, those they could handle.

TRIVIA extra character information.

because their parents were teenagers when they were born, they are named after their parents' favourite music ( juno for juno, their mom's favourite band, and elliott for elliott smith, their dad's favourite artist )

juno was diagnosed with adhd in college, and was medicated for it until they entered the town.

similarly, they had been undergoing low-dose hrt, which they ran out of after a time in the town.

some of the books in juno's car at the time they entered the town are: the wind up bird chronicle, franny and zooey, tell me i'm worthless, paul takes the form of a mortal girl, high fidelity, and please don't kill the freshmen.

#from.intro #❪ about ･ juno ❫

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8blud-a · 9 months

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⸻ ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ⸻ kristine froseth. non-binary. she/any. ⸻ i saw SOFIA RUSSELL around THE TOWN, you know? the TWENTY-SIX year old that was driving from SEATTLE, WASHINGTON when they saw the tree on the road. SOF has been here for FOUR MONTHS and i think they were A JUNIOR DOCTOR before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night. ⸻

GENERAL INFORMATION. ⸻

full name. sofia russell.

nickname(s). sof, fi, give her some.

age. twenty-six.

gender identity. non-binary.

orientation. bisexual.

place of birth. seattle, washington.

date of birth. 31 december 1996.

former occupation. junior doctor.

3 positive traits. dogged, pragmatic, observant.

3 negative traits. aloof, selfish, manipulative.

moral alignment. lawful / neutral evil. ( to be decided. )

faceclaim. kristine froseth.

TOWN INFORMATION. ⸻

current residency. the town.

current occupation. doctor.

BIOGRAPHY YOUR CHARACTER’S BACKGROUND. ⸻

mother died before she was a year old: the bare bones of a human. she didn’t grow up with photos of her nor did she ever think to ask for them –– what use is a dead woman’s picture anyway? not like i knew her.

inherited by her godmother. an earlier memory, that’s not quite a memory: her aunt’s buttery fingers digging into her doughy neck; her aunt’s soft coos as she cried. marking your neck as a scruff of a newborn animal.

her aunt was an exhausted woman. sofia was a ( newly ) middle child, an awkward pup in a litter of kittens. dressed in the same good clothes for church on sundays: they wore purple when she wore brown; they paired together so she could hear them sitting in the middle of or on the outskirts of their posse.

her aunt bestowed the bulk of her attention on sofia. it created a vicious cycle of resentful exclusion, embittered isolation. she couldn’t foster a healthy view of friendliness, of playing nice. she just had her mother. her aunt-mother. her aunt who was a mother without bearing the moniker of mother.

( all of her children had to refer to her by her first name or renditions of it. if they failed, her soft smile would remain. her chin would lower. her tongue would click. and with the least amount of breath she could muster, she would say, “ i wish you wouldn’t call me that. ” a fraught home that couldn’t articulate its unease until it was too late. until a house could not feel like a home without dread flowing through its doors like air. )

she wasn’t an aggressive child, especially not in school: she didn’t pick nor engage in fights. didn’t see the point: it’s easier to be quiet than bruised. besides, she’s already taught herself to not care about her peers. in her studies, she excels. it’s easy and normal, like a language she couldn’t speak but knew from the grooves of her tongue. natural. it leads her to a medical degree, to a field where the human worth is based on what’s inside. literally, not metaphorically. people are much easier when they’re quiet.

one family gathering: a precursor to easter, to see her god-fearing aunt. it starts and ends as it always does. ( with a fight –– between who? about what? who threw the first punch? who slammed the first door? every gathering melts together in her mind’s eye. stuck in this new town for months, not even remembering why. ) and at some point in the night, she leaves with her breathless car. she would’ve been back within forty minutes to remind her aunt to take her tablets. to clean up after dinner. to tuck herself into bed with an unshakeable migraine, and an equally unshakeable, scruffy, old cat curled into her side. it should’ve been easy.

#from.intro #abuse //#death //#not sure what else to tag .. lmk if i missed sumn #pretend this is pretty like the rest of y'all's intros #wrote this on hour 20 of being awake so hopefully it makes sense 💕

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bledfear · 9 months

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❝ Good people don’t need rules and today is not the day to find out why I have so many ❞

ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ⸻ adria arjona. cis woman. she/her ⸻ i saw danielle beltran around the colony house , you know? the 36 years old that was driving from chicago when they saw the tree on the road. dani has been here for ten years and i think they were an egineer / daughter of a narc before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night on their own . ⸻

GENERAL INFORMATION. ⸻

full name : danielle beltran .

nickname(s) : dani .

age : 36 .

gender identity : cis woman .

sexual orientation : heterosexual .

place of birth : guatemala .

date of birth : september 21st .

former occupation : an engineer / daughter of a narc .

3 positive traits : strong-willed , playful , kind-hearted .

3 negative traits : self-sacrificing , reckless , too trusting .

moral alignment : neutral good .

faceclaim : adria arjona .

TOWN INFORMATION. ⸻

current residency : the town .

current occupation : n/a .

time in town : ten years .

BIOGRAPHY YOUR CHARACTER'S BACKGROUND. ⸻

⸻ when danielle was born , she was named after her father , a known narco . the only girl out of 5 older brothers , who resented her in every way and ridiculed her as her mother was a prostitute . still , she was practically the golden child in her father's eyes . definitely a dad's girl , her father knew that women can easily run the business if not more ruthless than men . he wanted her to be the next to take over rather than his useless sons .

⸻ making sure she was well educated and knew her way around the world , just like her brothers , dani was homeschooled . when no one was looking her brothers would often threatened her or beat her down until she was old enough and finally was able to fight back . the first time it happened she blinded one of her brother's eye . which her father did nothing but congratulate her and found out about the abuse her bothers did against her .

⸻ by the time dani graduated her home schooling , she wanted to go to college . her father fully supporting her and within the next six years dani earned her bachelor in engineer . by the time she came back dani learned two of her brothers have died . despite how they treated her , she does love them . eventually with his sucessor back and during a party the oldest thought he would take over once their father passed , it was dani who he picked into overseeing all cocaine transportation and distribution in arizona help branching out into florida , chicago , new york , and europe .

⸻ being the good daughter dani would listen to her father but would also tell him its not what she wanted to do . living normally in college made her want a life away from violence and the drugs . yet she promised to help run it until one of her remaining brothers starts taking on the responsibility and get their act together rather than spend their days doing drugs themselves and drinking and parties .

⸻ dani knew her brothers hated this arrangement , yet she didn't know just how much they hated her and what they had planned . because she trusted them despite it all she never thought her own brothers would plan to hand her over to their father's enemies during an inspection in chicago where they tagged along .

⸻ hoping they would just kill her but they had other plans for dani . tortured and breaking her and made sure to record for her father . yet dani's will was not easily broken as she waited for a chance to escape and it was during one of her escape that she took one of their trucks and ended up seeing the tree on the road .

⸻ danielle is kind and gentle regardless of her upbringing . most in colony house would say that dani is playful , bubbly , and relaxed, but at at the same time the life of the party as she was the one who blessed most is mary jane . although she is guarded when people ask about her past and some of the scars she has . there being a silent darkness in her eyes ... but she can open up to the people she loves . she is a strong and clever survivor who would sacrifice herself when it comes to the people she loves , if she has no other choice .

⸻ for the passing ten years , dani had to survive before colony house was established and she realized the truck she stole to escape was filled with cannabis , a couple of bags of cocaine , and money which was useless for those stuck in town . planning the cannabis , dani was in charge in taking care of it . she was a light in colony house and during her time there got into a relationship for whom she would do anything for . so when the night came and somehow they were stuck outside , dani sacrificed herself which ended her being found the next day with a head injury and has been in a coma for the past 4 years .

#from.intro #drugs tw #abuse tw #death tw #narcos tw

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adriankinc · 9 months

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❝ IT’S HARD TO FORGET YOUR PAST WHEN IT’S WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR BODY. ❞

ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ⸻ sebastian stan. cis man. he/him. ⸻ i saw ADRIAN KINCAID around the town, you know? the 38 year old that was driving from COLUMBUS, OH when they saw the tree on the road. ADRIAN has been here for TWO YEARS and i think they were FORMER NAVY SEAL before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night.

GENERAL INFORMATION. ⸻

full name: adrian kincaid.

nickname: n/a.

age: thirty eight.

gender identity: cis man.

orientation: heterosexual.

place of birth: columbus, ohio.

date of birth: may 2nd, 1985.

former occupation: retired navy seal.

3 positive traits: adaptable, honest and observant.

3 negative traits: cynical, blunt and aloof.

moral alignment: neutral good.

faceclaim: sebastian stan.

TOWN INFORMATION. ⸻

current residency: in town.

current occupation: trainer.

BIOGRAPHY. ⸻

adrian was born into a generational military family and spent his childhood moving from one place to another. the only really constant in his life was his mother and younger brother. they became a tight-nit unit, especially the two brothers.

while his grandfather and father assumed and pushed adrian to follow in their footsteps, he was adamant from a young age to carve his own path. once he graduated high school, he started to study computer science at college.

it was only weeks after he got his bachelor’s degree that his younger brother thomas enlisted. adrian had been so busy with his own life that he hadn’t realised the pressure thomas had been subjected to. while adrian was headstrong and confident in who he was, thomas was more of a follower and once adrian was out of the house, the pressure shifted from one son to another.

adrian enlisted only days after thomas did, hellbent on protecting his brother since he had failed previously. he threw away all his own personal goals and dreams even though no one asked him to. and so his time with the navy started.

at thirty two, irony showed its ugly face when his brother died in combat while adrian had to sit the mission out because of a sprained ankle. how’s that for keeping him safe?

his time in the navy after that is sort of a blur, by then the rest of the team had became family too and abandoning them wasn’t on the list, so he continued to serve. to be honest, he mostly used it as an excuse to be anywhere else but home where guilt and grief waited for him.

at thirty five he left, chose not to reenlist after his active duty commitment came to an end. his mind nor body couldn’t handle it any longer and he knew better than to pretend it did. and then a year later he visited his mother only to see the damn tree on his way back home.

QUICKIES ⸻

he’s a trainer, he’ll keep you in shape or get you into shape if you ask him. he’ll teach basic survival skills as well, best methods to hide etc.

pretty aloof at first but a real dork if you get to know him. basically a cat in human form, you gotta earn it.

he has mild tinnitus in both ears.

probably said “i would trust beyonce with my life” at one point. definitely listened to toxic by britney before he saw the tree.

CONNECTION IDEAS ⸻

friends. especially one he’s actually close with and whose company he prefers over anyone else.almost ride or die but not exactly because that takes time with adrian.

“are you flirting or starting a fight?” and i don’t have to say more.

a fwb but not really, it’s more of a mutual understanding of just killing time/finding enjoyment in this godforsaken place while Doing™ it. they might not even be friends at all, just sexually compatible.

people he help trains because that just makes sense.

ok that’s what comes to mind right now but everything goes tbh

oke bye

#from.intro #if u read this ur a better person than me cause i did not #only mentions of stuff #death tw #? mayhaps

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desensed · 9 months

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𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

⸻ ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ⸻ robert pattinson. cis man. he/him. ⸻ i saw xander romanov around the town, you know? the 37 years old that was driving from brooklyn, ny when they saw the tree on the road. xander has been here for 1 year and i think they were a doctor before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night. ⸻

GENERAL INFORMATION. ⸻

full name : xander romanov

nickname(s) : xan

age : 37 years old

gender identity : cis man

orientation : heterosexual

place of birth : manhattan , new york

date of birth : december 23 1986

former occupation : doctor

3 positive traits : kind , generous , forgiving

3 negative traits : apathetic , desensitized , perfectionist

moral alignment : lawful neutral

faceclaim : robert pattinson

TOWN INFORMATION. ⸻

current residency : the town

current occupation : doctor

BIOGRAPHY. ⸻

grew up in a strict household with controlling parents whose only interest was to mold their children into the perfect human being. the emotional well being of xander and his little sister were often times an after thought, if even that. learning to undo the affects of his parents emotional neglect has been a roller coaster ride for xander, though after finding himself without his family for the last year, it has become a little easier for him to understand his own feelings.

for the most part, he went along with whatever his parents asked him to do. he figured if he took the brunt of the work it would lessen the load that they would put upon his sister, though that idea turned out to be very untrue. at the very least, zelda and xander had one another, and they found refuge in their shared experiences together despite the big age gap that they have.

he excelled greatly in all of his academics, though lacked an obvious important factor in his life. xander has never had any close friends, or even someone he can call a best friend, for his entire life. he has shut off so much of his feelings to get through the harshness of his home life that he finds it difficult now to connect with people on a deeper level.

he's been living his life in a kind of blur through most of it, but now that he's here, he finally feels ' awake ' for the first time in a long time.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. ⸻

sib connections, to die for obviously. loves his little sister very much and has been away from her for a long time, so if your muse is younger and a lil cutie he'll love 'em !

father / mother figure ? never had a loving parent so would probably melt at the first sign of affection, who knows !!!

people he might have known from school back in the day, or anyone who worked alongside / near him in any capacity.

patients, new and old ! formerly worked in the emergency ward so may have come across a plethora of ppl

first love ? hehe i love angst

TAKEN CONNECTIONS. ⸻

little sister : zelda romanov @lichtundschattens

father / mother figure : augusto diaz & sierra ducharme

#from.intro

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fairypuzzles · 9 months

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❝ The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.. ❞

ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ⸻ kit young. cis male. he/him ⸻ i saw LINUS HORNER around THE TOWN , you know? the THIRTY years old that was driving from LONDON, ENGLAND when they saw the tree on the road. LINUS has been here for TWO YEARS and i think they were PLASTIC SURGEON before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night. ⸻⸻ ⸻

GENERAL INFORMATION. ⸻

linus oliver horner

cis male

gay

london, england

october 24, 1994

plastic surgeon

wise, easy-going, get things done

dramatic, arrogant, selfish

chaotic neutral

kit young

TOWN INFORMATION. ⸻

town

doctor

BIOGRAPHY YOUR CHARACTER'S BACKGROUND. ⸻

#((. introducing linus horner. ))#from.intro

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staticspeak · 9 months

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ABOUT CADE | All I speak is static screams, can you hear me?

ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ⸻ tom holland. cis man. he/him. ⸻ i saw CADE ROTHSCHILD around colony house, you know? the twenty-six year old that was driving from BROOKLYN, NEW YORK when they saw the tree on the road. CADE has been here for THREE YEARS and i think they were A RADIO SHOW HOST before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and seek a way out without losing themselves or dying. lets hope you at least survive the night.

CHARACTER BASICS

FULL NAME: Cade Rothschild

NICKNAMES: That son of a bitch right there, that whiny kid from Colony House, fucking Cade

AGE: Twenty-Five

GENDER IDENTITY & PRONOUNS: Cis man, He/Him

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

FACE CLAIM: Tom Holland

EYE COLOR: Brown

HAIR COLOR: Brown

HEIGHT: 5′8″

DATE OF BIRTH: September 7th, 1998

AGE: Twenty-Five

ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: Bachelor's in Communications with a Minor in Advertisement & English from Columbia University

HOMETOWN: Brooklyn, New York

FORMER OCCUPATION: Late Night Radio Show Host "Dorian Thomas"

POSITIVE TRAITS: Silver tongue, Reminiscent, Resourceful

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Manipulative, Impulsive, Impatient

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

TOWN INFORMATION

CURRENT RESIDENCY: Colony House

CURRENT OCCUPATION: Landscaper for Colony House

CHARACTER HISTORY [TW: MENTION OF ABDUCTION/DISAPPEARANCE]

Before his disappearance from the face of the world a year ago, Cade was, in fact, just another golden boy— at least that's what everyone thought. But not all that glitters is gold, and Cade finally learned that when he was accepted into an elite academic society at Columbia University. He'd been an anomaly as he spoke the part, held the curl of lip just right, but he hardly looked it. Cade's saving grace was how he somehow demanded attention without ever being seen in the back of the classroom. His voice called out from the farthest row, a squint away, seemingly the only one with reason.

He'd been taken under the wing of his peers under the impression that they'd be his guardians. Known to be quiet, he found somewhere to stand and be heard. They made Cade feel as though he was heaven sent and angel willed, but it would be a hard fall from grace after that. No matter how hard they tried to dress him up, there were parts of Cade that they couldn't deny could never be reassembled to fit in with him. Towards the end of his college days, he had scraped himself of every gold flake they pressed against him like it was grime. Many say it was maturity that got to him and why he abandoned the comfort of his so-called brothers, while others believe to this day that maybe they realized Cade wasn't as special as they anticipated. As for Cade, he believes it was just a matter of time before he'd be another fool to false fortune.

Feeling out of place his third year, Cade's older sister, Olivia, had agreed to meet with him and venture out into the city together. They made plans to have lunch, he'd finally show her around and reintergrate his life before with the one he was building now. Their mother had fixated on finding the perfect white picket fence to raise her children in, even if she painted it herself. She had engrained in Cade that he needed to be good, smart, and ready to settle down. He was feeling out of place and exhausting pretending to care about a path he was told he had to follow. Olivia was suppose to talk sense into him, but she never showed up. They would have to reschedule for the next day, and then maybe the day after, as she never made it to campus and no one had been able to trace her down since.

Her disappearance took a toll on Cade that those around him found difficult to handle, and they took a step back. His grades began to slip, and every promise he had fumbled around him. The position he was promised at one of the most sought after news station was compromised. However, he was able to prevail and graduated but he'd once again start at the bottom of a ladder. While he had a degree that most didn't, he lost the drive to try harder early on and for the last four years he's stayed as an assistant.

At a Christmas Party at the station, a drunken Cade climbed up to the broadcast wing of the building to recover. Panic had settled in, and once more, that feeling of being out of place and stuck struck again. He had signed on to the broadcast after hours and sent a message to his sister if she was out there about how he felt and ultimately talked himself down. The message had resonated with many listeners to the point that a few had asked the next day while calling in if they had ever resolved the caller's request believing that Cade had just been someone who dialed in. He'd get on every night and talk into the void of listeners out there hoping that it was his sister. He build a reputation for himself as Dorian Thomas who took a full year to have his identity compromised when the radio station finally figured out it was their assistant. They didn't kick him off though— their profits skyrocketed during their dullest hour, and after a slap on the wrist, Cade was brought on as an official late night host.

PRESENT DAY

Despite his success, all Cade ever did was speak to his sister hoping she was out there listening. After a few years, it felt like he was talking into the void again and he sought out a plan to try and find her again. The weekend he had off was dedicated to tracing another set of plausible footsteps Olivia could have made, but he'd been blocked by a tree in the middle of the road keeping him from finding it.

Cade arrived in town right at sunset. Orange hues were being consumed by the shadows of evening, and one knock on the door was interrupted when they pulled him inside and tied him up immediately. He fought, and they had to knock him out, and he's seemingly never picked a fight again except to strike a deal. After all, there's always a barter system as long as you play your hand best.

He's never ventured outside the Colony House after arriving, never making it into town and never wandering farther than the fields they tend to. The one time Cade did after falling asleep outside, he'll never forget it. He spends his time coping by distorting his new reality with a good smoke, or whatever escape he's conjured up with the mushrooms he brought with him.

HEADCANONS

Cade doesn't have a particular room that's his in Colony House. It's diminished to a small corner in the living room where he's tucked away what's left of his own belongings into a trunk under a bench. He tends to sleep wherever he ends up crashing, though he pays a due in anyway he can even if it's not sleeping at all.

When he first arrived at Colony House, he was very quiet and took to his duties as a working member of the house. He made up for it by rolling a good joint with just about anything. However, he didn't speak much except when he figured out how to channel the small radio in the back of his trunk to whatever channel hung around the town itself to express his own concerns into a void and prayers of seeing his sister again.

Most of the time, Cade is sleeping throughout the day or picking weeds (and his own personal stash of shrooms he'd brought with him) for hours at a time. Any mind numbing task he takes on with a beg. At night, he's found a way to not pay mind to the voices by distracting himself any way he can— including providing any distraction he can for someone else.

His car is near Colony House and has been picked apart for scraps, hit at for entertainment, and used as storage for whatever he doesn't want to share. It's a 1972 Monte Carlo he's demolished in the last three years.

Sometimes Cade will hosts what's reminiscent of a rager in one of the rooms by rigging up all of the break lights he's stolen from the cars in town and propping candles halfway under colorful vases while they spin on turntables. Sometimes, he's not happy with where he is or what he left behind— and he tries to find elsewhere to feel better by escaping it all.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

People he's roomed with in the Colony House

People in town who have listened to him on the radio

Colony House hook ups, which has either worked for a transaction for something or problem solving because Cade is a pain in the ass

Anyone from the New York area since he went to Columbia University

People he went to school with at Columbia University, including those in the Brotherhood if possible

CURRENT CONNECTIONS

OLIVIA ROTHSCHILD - SISTER: Olivia has been Cade's fixation for the last five years since her disappearance. She was suppose to meet him in New York when he was having trouble his junior year of college, unsure of his decisions to chase a life of comfort their mother engrained in them by chasing a reasonable profession and education. She never arrived, and he's tried to keep her memory alive by tracking her down. It's her that he's always reaching out to on the radio even before he ended up at Colony House. He has yet to know she's been in town the entire time.

NAZLI SAYAR - BEST FRIEND: Cade had sought Nazli out in Brooklyn to take on his sister's case for their podcast, but every meeting was met with the same answer he had come up with himself. She was the last person he expected to arrive at Colony House, though, and seeing a familiar face pulled him out of the depression he had settled into. Nazli seems to be the only one who can snap him back to reality when he's become too distant from it all, and they're notoriously never far from the other. You've probably only ever seen Cade wearing clothes that match when Nazli's sitting on his lap wearing the matching silk pajama shirt to his pants at a Colony House meeting.

#from.intro #about.cade #cade.about

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caedesz · 9 months

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❝ CHRIST, FORGIVE THESE BONES I'VE BEEN HIDING ... & THE 𝑩𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 I'M ABOUT TO LEAVE. ❞

────── ❝ I. ... OR, BASICS.

full name: esmerelda flores moretti. nickname(s): goes primarily by esme. age: thirty3. gender identity: cis woman. orientation: bisexual, biromanic. place of birth: meadville, mississippi. date of birth: february 14th, 1990. former occupation: nurse practitioner. three positive traits: beneficent, tenacious, precipitate. three negative traits: circumspect, irresolute, stringent. moral alignment: neutral good. faceclaim: christian serratos.

────── ❝ II. ... OR, TOWN INFO.

current residency: the town. current occupation: nurse.

────── ❝ III. ... OR, HISTORY.

one. this story begins the same way it ends: in a chapel that thrums, ACHES with the weight of all its combined prayers, hopeless intercessions, heavenly father, hallowed be thy name … mama says it was a wednesday when she heard that there was a new preacher just rolled into town, & that she ain’t ever been so excited for sunday mass. young, italian, gorgeous … she’ll tell you that god put him in meadville for a reason, just for her. for us to have you, mija. ( & she’ll leave out the other parts: about knees bruised first when she knelt in prayer, second time in pleasure / profane communion found in each other’s hips, first day they ever met. holy mouth trails scorching path down, down, down … when her parents asked what took her so goddamn long to come home, she’ll tell them she found god, that he told her that it’s about time she started staying an hour longer on sundays to pray. ) ain’t never seen her hang on a man’s word so damn much as when she started goin’ to church, just to listen to him talk ! six months after that first sermon, her papa gives her away in the SAME spot they conceived you in.

two. you got good folks, that’s what everyone says. your daddy, he’s a good man. ( sicilian turned southern, loyalty runs as bright as anything in those bones / that blood. “yours too, mia ragazza.” is that meant to reassure you, or to send the first prickling thrill of fear racing down your spine ? you settle on both. ) mama, she smells like cheap vanilla & makes your favourite foods ( pico de gallo, flautas, a mean huevos rancheros ) ; she sings to you in her dulcet, smooth spanish, makes light work of turning your unruly curls into two neat braids that hang down your back. by the time you start primary school, you have two little sisters who adore the very ground on which you so daintily step / & you never get the feelin’ that your daddy might’a wanted another boy. he’s got his girls, & he’s got his god, & he don’t need much else. ( good folks, good family. whatever happened to that oldest girl o’ theirs, though ? didn’t she- … christ, is that what happened ? mother of god. )

three. “that girl’s as sweet as cherry pie.” teachers, friends, everybody loves you. why wouldn’t they ? smart as a whip & pretty as a picture, kindest heart around … there’s a reason that the other little girls in your class love & loathe you in equal, violent measures / why the boys are linin’ up on the playground to catch a glimpse of that sunray smile you flash so indiscriminately. & that’s all swell when you’re little, when a peck on the cheek is just that, but kids don’t stay that way forever, motives change & gazes grow leery, lingering to the point where your skin feels prickly with it. heart o’ gold never turns, though … ain’t nothin’ you wouldn’t do to help someone who needed it, or someone who didn’t know they needed it until you stepped in with your hair smellin’ like strawberries & your dimples punchin’ craters in the soft skin of your cheeks. you’re too soft, too sweet, too good, & it’s the reason that your daddy takes you out the back of a paddock when you’re fourteen. he places the weight of his colt in your shaking palms, & shows you how to hit targets. “just in case, mia ragazza.” & christ almighty, you’re an awful shot, but it’s a symbolic exercise / half practical, half allegorical, leaves you with a strange feeling at the base of your stomach anyway.

four. you never thought you’d have to use it, that lesson. you chalk it up to him being overprotective, overprepared, worrying about a hypothetical that would never see the light of day / for years, you never have to so much as think about the way your fingers curl around the trigger, too terrified to squeeze it but urged on by need. you have to be able to protect yourself. & the thing is, you got so close. you graduate, valedictorian / victorious, glimmering, beautiful thing in your graduation cap & gown, your scholarship to harvard, your career unfurling in front of you like something glittering, something just in your grasp. ( you deliberated for hours, harvard over columbia. acceptance letters to both, you should’ve listened to your gut. ) in a fluorescently - lit bar, you meet someone / you fall in something that looks like love / fourth of july looks like a barbeque & too many vodka sodas & one knee pressing an indent into the sand, a gasp that comes from somewhere outside your body, last of the twilight sunbeams catching the diamond that twinkles inside its velveteen box. ( he never asked your father. if you’d had known, you would’a never said yes. it’s stupid, it’s old, it’s a tradition the likes of which you shucked off years ago, but it means somethin’ to him. if only you’d known … ) the engagement is a blur, & he’s so candy - sweet that your back teeth rot with it / you’re knee - deep in adoration, your mama doesn’t like him & true to the song, she does like everyone.

five. on the evening of your wedding, your father gives you that same colt. “just in case.” twenty - four hours later, your hands will smell of gunpowder. in a week, you will fall off the face of the planet.

six. he puts his hands on you. that’s all it takes, a grip that goes well beyond loving or protective / fingertips pressed into the groove of your wrist, hard enough to bruise. “you’re my wife now, you’ll do as i goddamn say.” you, of the analytical mind & the careful hands & the painstaking ways, you don’t think. for the first time in your adult life, near thirty goddamned years, you act first. point, squeeze. shoot. you do not stick around to see if you hit anywhere vital. the keys to his dusty old pickup are on the tallboy; you take them, you run. barefoot bride, still in your wedding gown when you bundle yourself into the drivers’ seat & go.

seven. you didn’t plan for anything, didn’t take any clothes / no money, no nothing. your parents, they give you a wad of cash, your bank card, & a suitcase of clothes that border on too tight but that aren’t your shorn - off dress. they fill up your tank, they kiss you on the cheek, they promise not to tell anyone that you were ever here. harbouring a murderess, that’s still a crime, isn’t it ? you don’t frequent anywhere too long, can’t risk it. dirty motels & greasy spoons, the open road, you spend a few days just driving, wandering, refusing to think too long about your wedding night. ( his eyes, blown wide when the sound cracks / you hands, fuck, they haven’t stopped shaking / blood, & the smell, & the door banging into the drywall so hard you’re sure it took a chunk out. ) on the third night, you finally work up the courage to slide the gold band off your finger, toss it into the desert. let somebody stumble on it one day, wonder why there’s such a pretty little trinket buried in six feet of sand.

eight. the crows. the tree. you don’t know why you stopped. maybe you got tired of running, of driving, of looking over your shoulder. stupid girl, you should’ve known better. you stopped, got out of the car, signed over the rest of your life the minute the dang door closed behind you. the creatures, that smile … two years now, & they still haunt you the minute your eyelids deign to slip closed. you’ve carved out somethin’ alright for yourself, got work as a nurse, built somethin’ halfway decent in this hellhole / got a funny feelin’ you would’ve ended up dealin’ with monsters regardless. maybe the ones with the eerie smile, the penchant for rippin’ people limb to limb, maybe they’re better / maybe they’re worse, who knows. ‘least you know this for sure: you won’t miss next time you & your colt come up against one.

────── ❝ IV. ... OR, WANTED CONNECTIONS.

tba.

#◟　　†　　　:　　　𝔦.　　　𝙴𝚂𝙼𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙳𝙰　𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙸‚　　　　⅋　　　　introduced.#from.intro #i hate writing bios n u can tell !!!!!!#anyways . scout's coming soon i jus gotta rest after this fcking behemoth #death tw #violence tw #guns tw #abuse tw #like. the vaguest mention of it / literally in passing bt still there just in case

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