She Shuffled Into The Kitchen, Running A Hand Through Her Messy Hair As She Took In The Sight Before
She shuffled into the kitchen, running a hand through her messy hair as she took in the sight before her, "So glad it's you and not the goddamn Boogeyman." The timing of the joke is, admittedly, horrible, but she's never been subtle. "What time did you get here?" Shreya thought she might have heard something in the middle of the night, but she figured it was either her brother or her cat. If it was anything else? She was willing to face the consequences and die honorably. "Now, if I bought even a single piece of asparagus, I think the world might end. The Boogeyman, who is obviously surveilling me as one of the town's top journalists, could notice my change in pattern and suspect me of knowing something and BAM dead." She sat at the small table by the window, sighing dramatically, "And you wouldn't want that, right?"
Then, Shreya sobered slightly, resting her elbows on the table, "I'm surprised you don't have to work right now. Is it not all hands on deck?" She asked, already thinking about what she may have to write about the incident this coming week. "It's really fucking awful." And there's no way to get through it but to joke about her own mortality, obviously. "What's the sheriff saying? Anything?" She added, "This is all off the record, by the way, I'll save my scheming journalist bit for at least noon."
closed starter with: darshan and shreya (@chappcdlips) setting: shreya's home, 9am, the day after the incident
His eyes fluttered open, and a strangled gasp forced its way out of his painfully dry throat as he struggled to recognize his surroundings, but the panic settled as the comfort of familiarity took hold. It was Shreya’s couch, in Shreya’s living room, in Shreya’s home, where he’d let himself in at 3am after finding sleep impossible at his own home. Darshan wiped the trail of drool off his cheek, sitting up and stretching his aching back before wandering to her kitchen, opening the fridge- only to see a truly meager selection of food between the tupperware containers of his own leftovers. A stray carton of eggs saved the day, and he’d set off to make breakfast when he heard the shuffle of feet. “Hey, lazy bones. Did I wake you?” His voice was casual, but there was an unmistakable horror laced in every syllable. How could he shake the guilt? How could he cope with the relief he felt when he confirmed that the young girl found dead in town hall was not his family member? As if that made it better- that the loss was not his own. “You should really get some vegetables in your fridge, or something, you know. Even an apple, or a single piece of broccoli. Give your poor microwave a break, before it unionizes against you.”
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cyrus ends up at the church due to his need to be involved, to be seen, and he knows that when tragedy strikes? there will always be people that take solace in the lord. and there are always people more willing to talk after a tragedy and cyrus is always willing to endear himself to new people for his own sake, for his own reputation. even in tragedy, perseverance is important, he thinks. he looks over at santi as he speaks, a sigh leaving his lips, "some people cane be your neighbor and still be a stranger. i'm sure she didn't hold it against you." or maybe she did. cyrus certainly didn't know kirby. "and i bet you never forgot after she told you, right? so i think you're settled up."
🗝️ open to all. 📍 redemption chapel, jan 24th.
the news breaks, as does half of red creek alongside it. there's an unfair lump lodged in santiago's throat. he wasn't close to kirby ; her death was not his to mourn, and yet ... he sits in the back pew of redemption chapel, hands wound in his hair. it was between here & the cemetery— the weather chose for him. he breathes in, has a hard time breathing out. halloween night plays through his mind. ❝ i asked about her name. ❞ he wants to laugh at the memory, but doesn't have the heart. a puff of frustration leaves him instead, ❝ grow up in a box like red creek & i still had to ask for her name. jesus– ❞
fawn's head whips around as kingsley speaks up and she snorts, "i never suspected you, trust me, but i would support you if you were." she tells him as they fall into step together, lengthening her stride slightly to keep pace with his longer legs. "you're right, though, it's definitely some annoying white guy. but the idea of a hot girl or NB is a nice thought, y'know as i support women and queer people's wrongs." she may draw the line at serial killing, but it really depends on how hot the perpetrator ends up being. plus, maybe they have a really good reason — you never know. fawn hums, inclining her head slightly in thought, "yeah, i hear you, but boogeyman kinda gives me scooby doo villain and that's a little less scary than just saying 'oh yeah, the brutal serial killer tormenting red creek.' it could be somethin' scarier like... the red creek ripper. that's more threatening, i think." not that fawn will admit any fear regarding the situation. she has enough going on in her life to worry about. "you'd make a really good shaggy if we were doin' real life scooby doo." fawn muses with a teasing grin on her face, "i don't think i fit the velma or daphne archetype unfortunately. plus, i'm sexier than both of them, no offense to hanna-barbera or whoever the fuck." the thought evokes the memory of mornings, siblings sat on the trailer floor watching reruns of old cartoons as she tried to make breakfast, but she shakes the remembrance away quickly, "ritten can be scooby, just a lot more temperamental."
○ NOW DELIVERING TO . . . ⏤ @chappcdlips !
kingsley squints at the familiar figure walking on the other side of the street . that slumping of shoulders is par to his own , although kingsley leans back more as he walks ( like something out of ed , edd and eddy ) . people walk in very distinct ways , and kingsley has always enjoyed seeing the tiny mannerisms that make up a person . for fawn , she walks leaning forward , hair curtaining off everyone , quick steps that slow down every now and then as if she's remembering she's not in a race . his lips quirk up and he crosses the street easily , picking up his pace to try and catch up with fawn . even though he's tall , fawn is FAST . it takes him a few moments to realise that a grown man following a woman right now is probably not something that is very ASSURING . he clears his throat . " i'm not the boogeyman . i have a feeling that guy's white . 82% of american serial killers were white , so that's just statistics, you know ? " kingsley states as way of introduction . " then again , gender isn't real . i guess it could be a hot girl killing everyone . or some cute NB . " he shrugs , thoughts spinning in his mind . " also , should we even be calling him boogeyman ? isn't that SERIAL KILLER 101 ? don't call them by their name cause it gives them more power ? " kingsley has a lot of thoughts on the entirety of the situation , but he mainly keeps them to himself . well . to himself, and to fawn .
"yeah, if you're a masochist who wants to get your heart broken, a mess is alluring." and she had plenty experience with that sort of attraction unfortunately, but it always made for a good story and isn't that what really mattered at the end of the day? "alright, alright, relax, i'm just giving you shit. the article was fine, bash. not a lot you can fucking do in this sort of situation." shreya shrugged before taking a long drink of her dirty shirley. she stirred the straw around, tilting her head to the side and humming, "i mean, i'm glad i didn't have to write it." she'd rather stick to the not highly publicized stuff. she was, of course, a self-proclaimed personality hire.
THE SMOOTH BUZZ WAS a lazy attempt to rid of any frustrations vibrating within his body. the whole town felt on edge, ready to fall at the slightest drop of a pin. he shrugged at shreya's rebuttal nonchalantly. ❝ never mentioned beauty , some people would argue even messes can be alluring , ❞ he meant that truly, even if it wasn't relevant for the woman side him. what were humans if not all poetically broken? still, the dig at the headline caused his lighthearted mannerisms to tighten. it wasn't something he was particularly proud of, which was unfortunate considering he was rather protective over his work. but news came out, deadlines were due, the opportunity was painted in red that now stained his hands. ❝ right , like i had a fucking choice . ' hey bennett , can i take the day off to mourn this latest tragdy ? ' ' yeah , let's just shut down the register for the day . ' that sounds practical . ❞ he mused with irritation, rolling his eyes in irritability as he downed his drink in response.
everyone should thank me because as bad as i am, i am holding myself back from being much worse
// ( aldis hodge . cis man . he/him ) . ⸻ cyrus cromwell , a thirty-eight year old , has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for ten months (but grew up there) . the magnet is known for being charismatic and vain and is often associated with caffeine fueled days, loud laughter in quiet places, displeasure hidden behind a dazzling smile . in a small town where they work as a teacher at red creek k-12 word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that redacted .
STATS
full name: cyrus carson cromwell hometown: red creek, mi sexuality: closeted bisexual birthday: may 23 zodiac: gemini sun, sagittarius moon, sagittarius rising height: 6’2” languages spoken: english, arabic, mandarin, russian, spanish, conversational french and german marital status: married children: 2, zeke (8) and lily (6) traits: charismatic, intelligent, driven, vain, manipulative, sycophantic
BACKGROUND
second oldest of the cromwell family, cyrus always knew he was expected to achieve great things
while he helped tori with their younger siblings sometimes, he spent a lot of time out of the house with his friends
he was popular at school and super involved in the red creek community, star of the high school basketball team, class vice president his senior year, valedictorian — his list of accolades is long
when he graduated, he immediately got tf out of red creek, attending stanford
he majored in political science and linguistics with a minor in international relations, eyes on a job with the UN eventually
when he graduated, he moved to europe and then continued to move around the world, working as a translator at various embassies and UN facilities
somewhere in there he met his wife (submitting as a wc... *eyes*) and they had two kids
but about a year ago REDACTED happened and cy shortly after moved his family back to red creek very abruptly
now he's working as a teacher at his alma mater, teaching government to high school seniors and probably is a language tutor on the side for anyone who wants to learn a language he knows; he claims he just wanted to "slow down" but... yeah, that's not really true... ANYWAY!
PERSONALITY AND FUN FACTS tw brief mention of internalized biphobia
kind of an egomaniac, thinks he is god's gift to this earth (and maybe he is idk)
he knows he's hot
very protective of his siblings and family and anyone he cares about
very charismatic, easily commands and keeps a room's attention and LOVES it
was absolutely a ladies man in high school and college, dated a lot before meeting his wife; recent conflict with his wife probably has him being a little flirty when he shouldn't //: men smh
is bisexual but insecure about it and very much tries not to let people know that as he's always kind of felt pressure to be the typical big, strong Man of the House, especially because his parents weren't around a lot he's always wanted to fit the picture perfect image he was "meant for" which only included heterosexuality in his mind
hates navy blue, refuses to wear anything in that color
has an insane workout routine and is in the process of constructing a guest house in his backyard just for a gym space (not very handy like That, so someone please come help him build it)
does not feel guilty about getting tf out of red creek as soon as he could, doesn't feel guilty about most things he does even if they're somewhat questionable????
fake as fuck, even if he hates you he will smile at you like (((:
the murders scared him as a kid since he was around 13 but now he kinda thinks the whole resurgence/boogeyman returning theory is bullshit; he was friends with one of heather's siblings and saw firsthand the kind of grief people were going through, so now he thinks people are bringing it back as a story to scare the young people in town
character inspo: mr. incredible (the incredibles), steve (the haunting of hill house), patrick bateman (american psycho), mouth (the goonies), fitz (scandal)
for? OPEN where? the pharmacy
he doesn't look up as the door swings open with another customer, keeping his gaze trained on the open book in front of him – it's shirley jackson's hangsaman. he does, though, call out (less of a call and more of something about a decibel louder than a mumble), "we're, uh... there's a two-for-one deal on gauze and band-aids right now." and the only reason he says anything at all is because it's allegedly his job to upsell. today's bogo deal seems a little too on the nose, though, considering the town's latest events, but griffin didn't come up with the sale. he just rings it up. he makes a quick, barely legible note in the margin with his fading black pen and flips the page, hoping whoever just came in doesn't need to know where anything is. or worse, want to exchange small talk with him.
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