✦ - *⁎ EFFIE | Interactions . - Blog Posts

as much as ricardo's stunt had send effie into a tizzy ... it has sparked a fire under the register's ass. maybe, in a way, it was what was needed. a new spark that wasn't a body or new missing person— but a spark is all it took to birth a blaze. who else would post an anonymous shot in the dark tip? what the fuck else would he approve to be printed onto the web? the passion of recording may have been rekindled, but the weight of fool's gold could send them all into the pits of hell. in this she isn't immune to the bustle ; greeting a few interns, reviewing a concept piece, scratching about her own ideas ( one, specifically, centered around the elusive wanted man ). a little busy bee. buzzing , buzzing all around until it collides with a windshield— out of the corner of her eye she sees the man before his approach. recognizes him in an instant. local fucking celebrities, the talbots. had the town so deep in their pockets, it's astonishing how they're not sinking into the pits themselves. at least, on paper. politicians, even the small kind, love to put on a show. luckily, effie is of that same blood. not a celebrity, but a woman that could paint herself a portrait to please any painter. forget dragging herself to hell when she could paint it in a fantasy. " nathan talbot. " immediate reply in her heel-turn. meets his stride halfway with the raise of a brow towards a coffee.

" busy, interesting. sure, you could say that. " a hand rests to her hip as she studies him. a nasty habit of hers. looking for the fault ; a misprint. people were their own stories with missing pages and different details ommitted depending on its reader. " well, i've been busy. you've seen the front page, heard the buzz. i know you keep yourself well informed. " she hums, " but not enough to know charolette's also busy. " a slight pinch, but she offers it as a jest. pairs it with a light-hearted chuckle. a pinkish red tint for this particular portrait. despite her own columns about this family, she tends to return a good show. wants to dig some of nathan's fool's gold from his pockets. find the cracks. see what exactly he likes to paint. " but you're in luck, someone else here could use that coffee. " the hand resting on her hip raises to grab the second coffee in his hand. what it is, doesn't matter. this action is both to make a point and quench the crave for caffeine. takes a quick sip of it before she continues her brush strokes. " humor me. play a little pretend interview. " the hand with what's now her coffee gestures around, eyes following with the motion. " what's your thoughts on all this? i can't help myself but to ask the man 'in charge', after all. call me greedy. " another sip and a smirk just behind the brim. " gotta have more to say than just asking how i'm doing, or am i wrong? "

𝖫𝖮𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭　:　the register, 12:30pm 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖲　:　closed for effie floyd @c0nnectdots

despite  the  news  that's  been  plaguing  the  town  for  days  now,  one  thing  prevails  in  nathan's  mind:  keeping  up  a  facade.  of  course,  it  isn't  like  he's  being  forced  into  this  charade,  in  fact  his  intentions  are  halfway  to  genuine,  but  playing  pretend  when  everything  else  is  falling  apart  around  him  is  easier  than  having  to  face  the  wreck.  so  here  he  is,  standing  by  the  front  desk  of  the  register  with  two  cups  of  afternoon  coffee,  one  to  give  to  his  beloved  wife  whom  he  is  allegedly  wholly  committed  to  —  except  charlotte  isn't  there,  because  apparently  she  just  left  for  lunch,  so  now  he  looks  like  an  idiot  standing  by  the  entrance  with  two  quickly  cooling  coffees  and  a  mildly  bruised  ego  over  his  failed  attempt  at  being  a  good  husband.  that's  when  he  sees  effie  in  the  corner  of  his  eye,  and  turns  on  his  heel.  “  miss  effie  floyd,  ”  he  calls  out smoothly,  sauntering  over  with  a  picture-perfect  grin  plastered  on  his  face.  “  must  be  a  busy  day  today,  ”  he  remarks,  gesturing  around  him  as  various  employees  walk  in  and  out  and  around  the  bulding.  “  how've  you  been?  there's  been  . . .  quite  a  number  of  interesting  stories  as  of  late.  ”

" see, was that so hard to ask for an opinion? trust me? it didn't kill you after all. " this, spoken like a knife aimed towards ricardo's side. cool, level, exact. effie wouldn't admit it surprised her, however. there was a certain understanding that ricardo had to respect her ( and kennedy ) otherwise he'd carelessly toss them to the side and hire whoever the hell could entertain him and lick his boots. both kennedy and herself are irreplaceable, this she knows. fingers clasp over her now emptied glass, sigh escaping into the tension filled air. " alright. sure, what would i do? " what would effie do? make it into a fucking acronym. she takes in the entirety of his statement like this was an interview, elbows to the counter and eyes towards the ceiling. the more he explained the more ... idiotic it seemed. anonymous letter, unknown person in his office, a lack of honesty. constant red flags and reminders ricardo will do anything for attention. money. attention. ways to a man's heart ricardo's she's certain at least, aside from a bright red lip and tight black dress.

" for one i'd be trying to figure out who the hell was in my desert of an office. cameras, i know we have them. disturbances on my desk. missing papers, records. computer security. i know we aren't the goddamn pentagon, but we have some private information that shouldn't freely be given. " two fingers push the glass towards ricardo and that ridiculously expensive bottle. a silent request for another pour, eyes finally leveling on him. and when it comes down to it she doesn't like the rumors stirring. effie and what she knew of bronte ... doesn't seem to have the heart of a killer. a mastermind. she thinks bronte would sooner run than kill someone.

the bruises. she notices them. of course she does and her brows furrow. a fight? well, well, well. effie isn't going to ask, but like a postcard it gets filed away. " and then i'd hold off posting the photo. play their game. are they going to badger me? offer me money? threaten me? sure, we get anonymous tips at the register, but not on our fucking desks, ricardo. and if my gut said to post it i'd talk to bronte, get a proper interview on hand. tease for another tidbit that's even juicier to try the anon's hand. prove i'm not a walking fucking mouthpiece. " god this is so ... ridiculous. maybe if effie was a different person, she'd have put the bruises to ricardo's jaw. " give an inch, people take a fucking mile. you of all people should know that. with how far you take things. " she sighs. " with the way things are going right now ... a missing person, a murder. it's best to play chess and not checkers. i'm not saying we tuck our tails and hide, but we should be thinking: will they send more? preservation, ricardo. " a twinge of concern. maybe effie is concerned, just maybe, but she doesn't expand.

" so if you trust me and kennedy treat us like we're your damn team and not some pretty little assets. like expensive decorations. " this, with a twinge of anger. it isn't a maybe.

ricardo deflates slightly . he hates when people make sense - especially when it's effie , who famously ALWAYS makes sense and has the best way of delivering it to him . he leads the way to his larger-than-necessary kitchen , all marble and white tops , unused pans , plates . he looks like he lives in a model house from architectural digest , and that's because he does . he bought it as is , then hired the first person he could find with a good resume and the ability to work well with an EMPTY CHEQUE BOOK . he reaches for the bourbon in a tall diamond glass bottle . the liquid sloshes softly into a short glass , which he slides to effie . he pauses . " on the rocks or neat ? " there is something within him that will always try to impress effie . he can't quite define it . can't even explain it to himself . kennedy is fire : smart and vicious . but effie is smooth marble : cool , level , EXACT .

" okay . okay . " he relents , with another sigh . he pours himself two fingers of the bourbon then leans against his kitchen island , half turned to her . " maybe . . MAYBE . . posting it without consulting you was a mistake . " ricardo allows . he sweeps a look at her from the corner of his eye . then , he takes a large gulp of his expensive bourbon . it burns in a way that only money allows . " fine . what would you have done ? if you were in my position ? and i'm not saying it to be an asshole , i really mean it effie . you get an anonymous letter on your desk , signed to you and only you . nobody should know how to get into the register , let alone into my office . nobody even knows i'm IN my office half the time . not even me . so they leave it there , with the photos . yeah . fine . maybe they played me . maybe i fell right into their hands . " he shrugs , pulls his gaze away so he can stare ahead at his curtains billowing in the night air , from a small crack in one of his living room windows .

the air is quiet yet loaded between them . ricardo works his jaw for a moment , feeling the bruising and aching still there from his tussle with taylan . " i trust you . " he says , and wonders if he'll grow to regret that . liking people is impossible . but trust ? trust is a currency . and he's willing to hedge his bets on effie . " . . . i wanted to tell you . both of you . i really did . " ricardo admits . he stretches his legs out before him , then takes another sip of his drink . why did he do what he did ? he doesn't know . he doesn't know why he does ANYTHING , really .

FOR : kennedy ! @brntout . LOCATION : a booth in redstone .

it wasn't often kennedy and effie were found outside of the office together, but this happened to be a special occassion. no, it wasn't a warehouse party turned sour. it was their own shared space : the register and a common 'enemy' of sorts. perhaps a way of strengthening a coworkers bond was by mulling over a mutual anger for their boss. sharing a drink, effie offered to pay, putting the little tension and pinpricks aside just for ricardo. " believe me, kennedy, i already had a talk with him. " spoken with a rub to her temples, eyelashes falling to a close. ricardo, as of late, was beginning to spark a headache for effie. thwarting her plans, putting a literal fucking pin in what she herself intended to write. she then wonders, briefly, if kennedy has had the same roadblocks.

" believe it or not, " a harsh puff of laughter, " i stormed into his haughty little house. brought it right to his doorstep. " the drink has long gone untouched and isn't disturbed until this moment. effie seems to trail off in thought for a moment, staring at the neatly cubed ice and condensation of the glass. she watches it drip down the side with one singular point in her head: is ricardo ever going to stop running the register like its a reality tv show? when she returns to the present she's taking a long drink of the cinnamon whiskey, lets it burn her throat before continuing. a rare question gets asked: " so, what do you think, kennedy? lay it on me. "

" bourbon. " and with her outburst, effie tries her damndest to reign it in. end of the day : the register wasn't under her thumb and name. frankly, she wasn't sure if was something she'd ever thought of. sure, it would run better that way. thinks a paper boy off the street might have more tact than ricardo, but at the end of the day ... she'd probably reject it. pass it off to kennedy who, frankly, could benefit more than it. maybe they'd be able to communicate better together, too.

she does almost stomp to the kitchen, anger simmering from her voice and presenting only in her body. " look. your register, your choice. however ... " hands raise to run down her cheeks and rest against her own chin. " playing games doesn't get you anything but tangled into a nasty little web, ricardo. so, you don't even know who sent those to you? somebody and you. those are great fucking sources. forget about wikipedia. " and maybe that's what is bringing in the sting of betrayal. trusting an anonymous source with a pretty little photo than his own employees. she waits until she has her drink to continue and damn near downs it in one go.

" you couldn't even tell me? kennedy? dammit, think a little! it's nice to see you running your mouth on paper instead of just air, but ... the hell am i suppose to do with this? " vaguely gestures out into the air, leaning her elbows against the counter. maybe she's ... worried, in her own way. if ricardo believes this, real or not, what else is going to believe? will he go down a wild goosechase and not come back? trip over his own feet, post the wrong sort of hot gossip? " look. i'm just asking for a bit of trust, ricardo. i know damn well i won't get any more of your respect, but at least your trust. games aren't meant to be played alone. "

" oh for fucks sake - " he cuts himself off because this is really getting ridiculous now . is there anywhere he won't be accosted ? silently , he reminds himself to get himself a maid or something , so they can get yelled at in his place perhaps . as soon as ricardo sees effie , he knows its game over . kennedy and effie were two of the main people he was vaguely concerned about . he almost cares . he almost wishes he was better . ricardo is a puzzle filled with almosts .

EFFIE MOVES WITH MORE ANIMATION THAN HE'S SEEN BEFORE . she's usually calm and collected . the ice to kennedy's fire . it's a testament to how clearly she thinks he's fucked up . " the photo isn't fake . " he says . " as for sources . well . they're mainly me at the moment , and i trust me . " he shrugs , a purposeful picture of BLASÉ . " everyone's so fucking interested in the story . nobody seems to give a shit about the more important thing : somebody gave this to me . right on my desk . they WANTED it on the register , effie . you of all people should be seeing the bigger picture here . this is a game , and i'm playing the part handed to me . someone knows something and wants to let everyone else know it, too . ABOUT DANIELA . ABOUT BRONTE . " he folds his arms over his chest , eyeing her . he can't lie : she looks really hot . " do you want a wine or bourbon while you yell at me ? you can continue in the kitchen . "

there were many more exciting things to do than smoking outside of a nightclub, yes. effie hasn't thought of going in, but rather found it to be a nice hidey-hole to pause her walk. the thrum of the music good white noise, almost calming from the outside. but, no, she won't go in she's taking a pause from a new nightly routine walk. restless, unable to sleep. after awhile tossing and turning surpassed annoying and became boring. she isn't sure where it stems from, but maybe it's everything. the register's latest post, the missing person's, the wanted poster, the buzzing ... everything and anything all at once. it has her buzzing and wanting to type away on her laptop. however, she feels ricardo might have a tighter grip on her words. look over her shoulder too much. it grates her more than she'd let on — but she'll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

she sees him before she hears him, eyes glancing over to the fellow smoker. when he speaks effie's head tilts, engaged with the topic. ding, ding, ding ... it's one of the things keeping her eyes open. " hmm. interesting thought. " the cigarette is raised to her lips as her shoulder blades roll, turning her to a lean against the wall with just one shoulder pressed. smoke tumbles from her lips towards him, glancing over just to acknowledge the picture. " asking for a third ... that's pushing it, though. that get you far on any dating apps? " there's a smirk. it isn't meanspirited, but he could take it however he wanted. she follows the slicing gesture and responds with a laugh. " who knows ... go with your story of them being a cute couple together, they could've ran away. maybe hauled off somewhere together after some atrocities. " it's ridiculous and effie knows it, but she's willing to live in the hypothetical for a moment.

another drag off of the cig and she's looking up at the sky. " honestly the real question is ... will the guy turn himself in, come clean or is he on the run and hiding something like anybody and everybody does. " looks back towards francis. " tell me, which would you do— run or tuck your tail? "

ꜜ ﹙ 💳  ﹚ ﹕ there were probably more exciting things to do on a friday night than smoking a cigarette outside of the town's lone nightclub⸻ a masochistic test of discipline, like the proverbial moth trying to deprive itself of the flame that burned and burned and burned. but attempts at restraint did not make the allure any less bright. instead, he focused on the faded scraps of paper that plastered on the building's facade, a messy collage of events posters and local business ads, fluttering in the breeze. but there were two posters that stood out— demanded attention, really. side by side, and newer than all the rest. francis took a slow drag as he stared at those two faces, smoke curling up from his mouth as he exhaled with a sigh ﹕ a sound that almost sounded profound. almost. and francis looked like he was chewing on something meaningful, maybe deep, when he beckoned a passerby closer with a sharp psst⸻ a feeling of urgency underling the noise, as if his thoughts could not wait any longer to be said out loud. “ do you see it ? ” gaze returned to the missing and wanted posters, a brief pause just to see if they would make the same discovery. and finally, “ missing girl and wanted guy. they'd make a cute couple, right ? like, opposites attract or whatever. she looks all bright-eyed and fun, and he's got that ... ” francis circled his cigarette vaguely in the air as he tried to find the words, then taking another drag. “ that i'll ruin your life but you'll love me for it thing going on. kind of hot. ” smoke billowing out as he spoke, coughing when he finished the thought with a small laugh. “ but, guess it's too late to ask if they want a third, huh ? girl's been two months missing, so she's probably⸻ ” cigarette dropped to the ground and hand raised to his neck, a slicing gesture across his throat with lazy precision before letting out a croak. @c0nnectdots

FOR : ricardo! @inadeqcies . LOCATION : ricardo's rich boy home . TIMESTAMP : 7:35pm .

as if the register wasn't already its own personal shitshow, this might just be its final downfall. questions, questions, questions. plagued with questions. effie on the streets, her business line, her email. it didn't matter if the owner's email was listed anybody who was curious enough would bombard any reporter related to the post. maybe it wasn't the release of the information that pissed effie off, maybe it was just ricardo. no, no, more accurately it was the fact she was cut from the information. woke up the next morning to a post surrounding bronte and daniela and not a single inkling of ricardo's intentions. the release was haphazard at best, a clear indication of a rushed dump. if effie weren't so distressed, she might even be impressed with its half assed effort. it's better than anything she'd imagine ricardo capable of.

instead of the office effie tracks down his personal abode. wasn't hard to look at the records and figure out the address. this is personal, so she's going to make it personal in his own home. three continuous knocks against the door until it's opened. there's a complaint on ricardo's lips as he opens the door. it goes in one ear and right out the other as she shoves in, hands thrown up.

" i didn't know you had it in you! really, i didn't. " a certain passion ignites in her voice, " but what never fails to show is your absolute arrogance, ricardo. you know how many people are trying to get an insiders scoop from me? some extra juicy bits? giving me some bogus gossip column shit? i can't even say a word because ... oh, i don't know anything! care to lift the veil for me? such as where the hell this daytime drama incident came from? and if you even crosscheck your source? "

effie knows damn well ricardo wouldn't be anywhere on the suspect list. unless there's a fat chunk of cash and they're hiring someone else ... there's absolutely no way. she's laughing at her own thoughts while adjusting her bag to her shoulder. this walk isn't going to be dreadful, at least not for her. tons of people would probably take the nearest turn left and avoid being stuck with ricardo garcia ... but she's a woman of pride. though she'd never speak it, and would like to think he knows it, ricardo doesn't have skin in the game. to write was to pull at heartstrings, instill intrigue and captivate whoever reads it. money, in the end, was simply the bonus. so, that's what she's leading with.

another laugh sounds at his stop, feet carrying her to step in front of him and pause the little walk. effie looks up at him with a tilted head, smile resting against her face as if she's already won this mock - debate. " i'll take the good person comment as a compliment ... but seriously? let me rephrase. " she takes a drag off of her cigarette, turning away to blow the smoke away from his face. in an instant her gaze travels back to his face. determined in expression and soon in voice. " it is cruel, but cruelty doesn't sell. the register writes a false column only to be discredited by shitty police ... sure it'll sell. however, our reputation will also tank. and when that tanks, you know what else does? profit. " she spins the hand with the smolder around in a circle. " what i'm suggesting is, yes, have some tact, but mainly if we wait for a statement and then fill in the plot holes with our own what ifs and could bes ... we'll drive suspense. " there's a snort, " nonetheless won't become the fucking tmz of red creek only profiting off old ladies who can't use a smart phone. see what i mean, ric? "

HE ROLLS HIS EYES and feels a small almost - smile move his mouth . ricardo has worked hard to be known in certain ways . sometimes he forgets the feeling you can get from surprising people . from being remembered DIFFERENTLY . ricardo has never been a smoker , but he takes interest in the way the smoke billows around effie , effortlessly . his eyes linger for a second too long before he pulls them away . " well , who knows ? maybe i'm the murderer looking for a second kill tonight . " he says , tone with less bite than normal .

he waits for her as she collects her items , eyes scanning their surroundings . ricardo didn't know what to expect for his first halloween in this town . it's both surpassed and disappointed every expectation . back home , he'd be in a limousine by now , snorting white substances with random victoria secret models . REDCREEK IS LIKE A WHOLE DIFFERENT WORLD . he hums at effie's description of kennedy . it's an understatement . kennedy may be one of the smartest people that ricardo's ever met , but FAT CHANCE of revealing that . he falls into step with effie , hands tucking neatly into his dress - pant pockets . he looks over in surprise as she mentions holding off reporting in the register . if it was anyone else , he'd tell them to keep their shit opinions to themselves . he feels himself slowly break into a grin the more she talks . this is where effie and kennedy differ greatly . effie has a conscience . ricardo can't even remember what having one feels like . " breeding hysteria is in our job description . " he replies back , languidly . he turns to face effie properly , pausing in their footsteps. " i don't know if you realised yet , eff , but cruel and me kind of go hand in hand . " he resumes walking , with a small shrug of his shoulders . " i appreciate your opinion . " he always does , which is a DANGEROUS thing . " but i'm sure you can appreciate why i won't be taking it . " ricardo squints up ahead , trying to determine where they are . " hysteria , shitty police , bungling media ? that's how cases bring infamy . infamy brings money . we don't have to be good people , but we can at least be rich ones . "

" well, lets think the lucky stars for that. " effie comments towards the final girl material. it's probably best to not take too many nods from a screenplay. though, at least, it seems savannah's self-aware of the type of person she is. effie's sure she probably isn't either, but she isn't going to imagine herself in that situation. unnecessary anxiety— and the night sure has had enough of that for everyone. " yeah, lets take a minute. you look a bit frazzled. how about a quick chat and then we can go on about our way, yeah? i know getting out the door was a disaster. "

she takes a brief puff, turning her head to the side to blow it out. " what'd you think of the party, you know, before it all came crashing down? " effie wasn't the best at small talk, but thinks savannah might need it. looked a bit like a deflated balloon ... like everyone else that was enjoying their night off. " definitely could've had better music this year, i think. "

Savannah was a little bummed over the party having to be cut short so out of the blue, only being able to mingle for a little bit. While everyone was being told to evacuate, the young woman finds herself feeling shoved out from the main doors, stumbling slightly, being elbowed by the rest of the crowd.

Fumbling for her phone in her bag, she raises a brow to the other who was nearby. "Uh yeah, this does kind of blow," she admitted with a sigh. Having spent so much time on her hair and makeup, she didn't want the night to end quite yet. "I'm not really sure what's going on, but might be better to use the buddy system? Not sure if I'm final girl material....", she confesses.

the direct and casual tone catches her off guard. even has her voicing it atypically : " oh. " it's amusing, really. the nonchalance. the ability to voice opinion, one based in earnest or not, without batting an eye. a stray thought comes to mind: kieran should make a podcast or try putting his opinions to paper. might be a damn hit. " should i thank be thanking you for that? i mean, really, this isn't some sort of indie horror flick. but, hell, you're making me curious who you are suspicious of. that's just the writer in me though. " effie's earnest at least, but she is wondering what's on his mind, who. it might even be useful to jot down— consider it for herself. yet, out of good manners, she doesn't press.

eyes flicker down to the unlit cigarette leaning close. the unspoken request met with her own lean. cigarette between her lips she lights it with the butt of her own. obverses him over it quietly. a creature of habit she is. ends it with a long drag and a collection of her bag while she stands. " thank you. i'm not really ... scared, but i don't think i want to cram myself into the bar like everyone else is. that'd really be what wigs me out. not enough room to breathe. " she adjusts her purse against her shoulder, slowly walking in the direction her apartment rests. eyes cast upwards a considerable distance. effie's never felt small before, but it's hard to ignore just how looming kieran was. that's a frame she'd never want to see in a dark hallway — a horror flick — only his shadow visible. " i have to ask though ... were you headed home or trying to snoop? no judgement. i'm no better sometimes. "

…                      oncoming headache was absolutely a cautionary tale against night outs, did not mean to get so senselessly wasted, especially when he only really attended that stupid halloween party for one single-minded purpose. and well, that turned out to be an utter fucking failure. but there wasn't anything quite as sobering as the news of yet another tragedy, the cogs and gears of his mind slowly beginning to turn again despite the lingering effects of alcohol and god knows what else he might have taken. “ safe as life. ” which was just another way of saying not at all, blown pupils thoroughly watching the smoke billowing from her mouth as if it was the most entertaining thing in the world. but it was a needed distraction nonetheless, something to fixate on while he attempted to get his shit together. but maybe he needed a far stronger stimulation, harshly pinching the bridge of his nose ⸻ and a groan slipped past his lips, nothing like some good ol' pain to jolt someone fucking wide awake. “ you're lucky i don't suspect you, ” said with typical nonchalance, taking out a marlboro of his own from a silver case. “ i can keep you company till you think it's safe. ” he had read way too much data and while she checked the white working class boxes of most female midwestern serial killers, a journalist like her was more likely to be the vulture circling the bodies, rather than the vicious wolf itself. he could be wrong, it wouldn't be the first time, but blame it on the alcohol, because kieran felt safe enough to lean in, tilting his head to meet her eyes, the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips as he silently asked if she'd light it off hers. maybe she wasn't the killer, but it still felt like flirting with danger : effie floyd just had that look, like she could eat you alive.

" ooohh, ricardo, have you been drinking? this isn't like you. " it's a jest coupled with a puff of laughter filled with smoke. effie has worked beneath him long enough to know this wasn't up to status quo. known for his sharp tongue and blaise tenor, he'd never willingly offer that. and yet, here he is. offering. truthfully, effie has always been acutely aware of his slight shift with her. its never been drastic nor suspicious, but the sharp edge dulls just a bit. she hasn't questioned it before and wouldn't start now, but couldn't help but to tease it. " i'll take you up on that. "

effie goes to stand and reaches behind her for the bag. red strands of a wig stick out comically, the discarded piece to her costume. it'd started giving her a headache over an hour ago, but she'd just now decided to rip it off. effie floyd, committed to her own detriment. " kennedy ... she's always right on the mark, isn't she? " the cigarette returns to her mouth for another puff. the silence mingles with the dissipating smoke. she pretends to ponder with this, but she's already known how to handle her own work since the announcement. " if you want my honest opinion i think we should hold off on any columns. " she looks from the sidewalk up to ricardo, head tilting towards the side. " that includes kennedy. me. you. jump before the officials and it'll cause a mess. post too soon it could breed hysteria. nonetheless ... it'd be a bit cruel to give a tragedy a damn timestamp like six pm, don't you think? "

EFFIE INTRIGUED RICARDO , which was a rarity . she wasn't one to outrightly gossip , nor was she one to fall into the bitchiness and politics like the rest . she was a straight shooter and ricardo has always liked them straight and direct . " i'll walk with you , if you want . " he offers , even surprising himself . decency and ricardo's name don't usually belong in one sentence , but he supposes he can take an hour or two off from being the world's largest douche bag . plus , secretly he does think that if anyone should and could and had the RIGHT to own the register . . . . it was probably effie . unfortunately for her , his family , name and connections got HIM the job . " you've got your concentration face on . kennedy said they'd be writing up a piece - what's your angle ? you know print goes out at 6 . "

" did something happen ... " she remembers the split of her dress in an instant. thin, sutured with a quick pin stolen from the bar. " oh, that. ugh, got it caught on someone's spikey belt. i think. " an exasperated sigh. " and you say you can't get anything past me ... look at you. " on the contrary, effie hasn't drank yet. she tries to stray away from the habit. finds being the role of the sober friend at the party to be more fulfilling. though, really, who is she to pass up the offer? the atmosphere here is different than the office, kennedy seems to feel lighter. she'll take it. another show of her good intent in picking at her pieces ; the small criticism. if effie thinks differently of kennedy she'd never voice it unless it becomes a necessity. it hasn't yet.

" my poison is usually a warm blanket and wine at home. i'm kind of a fish out of water here. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " think ... i'll go with the classic whiskey sour though. classy. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " but i think ... i'll go with the simple whiskey sour though. real classy. " and that's her personal cue to pull their sway towards the bar. " gotta say, didn't think this was your scene. though i guess i sold you too short as a new york girl, huh ? "

“did something happen today?” they ask, never missing an opportunity to be nosy. kennedy isn't sure why they invited efiie out to dance. they never made much of a habit to hang out with another journalist back in new york. maybe they were growing soft. a realization they will no doubt nurse along with a headache tomorrow morning at the rate they are going. that’s a problem for later though. right now? everything is good. the music is good, the ambiance is good, kennedy is feeling good, effie is looking good. it’s all good! effie’s observation earns chuckle from kennedy. “i can’t get anything past you, can i? okay — i might have a bit of a head start on you.” they admit, looking down at their hands for a moment before flashing her a rare, mischievous grin. “so let’s get you caught up! what’s your poison?” 

FOR : open, come take a seat! LOCATION : sitting at a bench, just away from the party's warehouse TIMESTAMP : aprox 1:04am.

" talk about ... a mess, huh ? " effie says to the person lingering next to her stoop. since the warehouse began to clear and the music cutting with the announcement to evacuate ... she's had a cigarette between her fingers. another lost soul to join the bloody past of red creek. she's been here long enough, around for many a halloween, to know what the boogeyman mask represented. some were mindful, some were distasteful. the common denominator : all were aware. and that awareness ... was coming back to the forefront. and the hype about the town's potential ghost reviving beginning to surface into rattling rumors. it all comes full circle, doesn't it ?

the journalist's soul in her is alit in secret. the classic questions a buzz. how she'd write it, if she should even fathom to ask their friends or be more tasteful. questions and questions, ideas and ideas. however, she knows she'll let the hype die before typing away at her encrypted laptop. a fiend for knowledge, yes, but never crass. too many journalists out there were monsters after all. she'd never stoop so low as to disrespect someone like the others. effie's expression to the other isn't as panicked as it should be. remorseful, yes. scared, no. a sigh sounds from her lips with another puff of smoke. she offers a wry smile. " think its safe to walk alone ? not enough details out yet to know if it's, you know, smart to. "

" you know what ... after the evening i've had ? why not. " she matches the volume over the music, smoothing down the front of her daphne dress. a small tear, poorly put together with a safety-pin at her side, proving to be the source of her frustration. the spin takes her off guard, makes her sputter off something close to a laugh. a squeeze is given to the fingers interlacing hers, but a brow promptly arches upward. " have you already started drinking, kennedy? "

location : the dance floor @ the warehouse

time : approximately 10:30pm.

open : to anyone!

“are you thirsty? wanna grab a drink?” kennedy half yells into the other’s ear, yet her voice is barely audible over the music pumping around them. fingers flutter down the other's arm, ready to grab hold of their wrist to lead them out of the dance floor or loosely interlace her digits with theirs to twirl them around. depends on their answer!