Realistic or Modern IN THE DEAD WOODS † MAIN

[Hell0NHighWater]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎Deadwood, Oregon
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎October 31st 1995

I N † T H E † D E A D † W O O D S ​

Melissa “Milly” Fox​

​

Between the hoods of idle cars run children in costumes. The warmth of the summer left a few weeks ago but tonight was the first time, since last winter, that she could feel the frigid concrete through the soles of her shoes. The crisp air fluttered through the fabric of her clothes just like it did in the summer and early fall, but now she couldn't help but notice it. In the street full of counterfeit ghouls, swarming the Jack-o-lantern marked houses, they were simply one group of many. But to Melissa, it was the only group that mattered.

Milly had devested herself of the too hot werewolf costume a couple hours ago, more in favor of walking around in the fur padded pants than the full ensemble. Her cheeks were blanched from the cold and her eyes, blackened for the mask she wasn't wearing, were partially obscured with caramel hair. She smiled, staring down at her bag half-filled with candy, "Is it just me or is the candy selection a lot better this year?"

"It's just you." The voice of her twin grumbled, kicking at a stone in the middle of the street, "I'm pretty sure we get the same candy every year."

Melissa hummed a note with mild annoyance, swinging her bag of candy in time with the strides of her legs, "I wasn't talking to you Mack."

"Yeah? Well you are now—"

Milly continued as if her sister had never spoken, her attention centered on the group of pre-teens, "Do you guys want to head back to our place and watch horror movies? I can get my Grandpa to set up the projector in the basement—"

Mack groaned, "We do that every year, too."

Turning on her heels, Milly snapped her inquiry, "Well then what do you suggest?"

A moment of tense silence hung between them before a grin split across Mackenzie's face, "I think we should take a trip over to Whitechapel Manor."

Melissa was quiet for a long moment, staring at her sister as if she had suddenly sprouted three heads. She turned back toward the group as if nothing happened, "Anyway, I was thinking Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Hey!" Mack launched herself into her sister's path, successfully keeping her and the rest of their friends from walking, "That was a serious suggestion! Don't ignore me!"

"I wish I could," Milly smiled with fake pleasantness, moving her bag of candy from one hand to the other.

"It'll be loads of fun! It's hella haunted, it's Halloween, and curfew isn't over until 11pm! So why not?"

"It's a bad idea—"

"So is watching Elm Street for the 4th year in a row."

Melissa narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She liked the tradition, the routine, it was safe. There was never an unexpected moment and because of that, she didn't stress herself out about possibilities. At thirteen, she had figured out that it was the best and most comfortable way to live her life. Mack, apparently, never got that memo. Still, she understood her sister's lust for the unknown to a certain extent. On rare occasions, unpredictability could be exciting.
Conceding to the mental argument she didn't even know she was having, Milly finally heaved a shrug and sighed, "Sure, fine. I'll go if everyone else does too."

"Booyah!!" Mack's eyes sparkled, one fist launched into the air, the excitement coming from her was almost palpable. Then, as if remembering there were other kids there, she squashed any outward display of juvenile elation with a fake cough.

A real smile curled across Milly's lips as she turned away from her sister, "So what do you guys think?"

BELIAL. Chimney Swift BasiliskVeranda Kirkodirk yourlocal-eboyy tamarapasek Taco @Koinu

 

[Chimney Swift]

Evan paused to peer into his bag of candy, held securely in his soft red lobster claws. Prior to meeting Milly, he'd never been able to secure this much refined carbohydrates in one night. The twins had a way of scouting the neighborhood that left no door unknocked. These days, though, he cared a lot less.

He'd always liked Halloween best out of all the secular holidays. There was something viscerally thrilling about being 12 and scurrying around the streets at night. Even better was being able to dress up as a lobster in public. Every other day of the year, Evan dressed sort of like a retired lighthouse operator.

The timid crustacean trailed behind his cluster of friends, kicking up piles of dry leaves as he went. The Fox sisters had begun a heated debate over what they should do next... and maybe Evan had been spacing out a little, but he distinctly heard an offer to run through the old Whitechapel manor. Immediately he perked up, brown eyes glinting with nervous excitement. Whitechapel. The place had a spectral allure the likes of which he thought only existed on television. It was magnetically attractive by its veneer alone. Evan, an aspiring tweenage Sherlock Holmes, found himself irresistibly keen on the idea. It seemed Mack was just as eager to explore it, if not more.

Asked to make a vote, attempted to give a thumbs-up-- only to find the gesture concealed by the lobster claw. Shoot. It had to be speaking up. He hesitated a moment, swallowing hard and briefly glancing down at the ground to gather some nerve. "I tchink that sounds... that's a greath-- a gre-- a... a great idea." It was an absolute trainwreck of a sentence, but typical Evan-speak. The dizzying excitement in the atmosphere certainly wasn't aiding his impediment. The same excitement, though, kept him from caring too much. He knew bits and pieces of the Whitechapel lore, which he'd painstakingly collected in his growing observational journal archive. He could only hope they were the first to have this brilliant idea, lest they have the unpleasant surprise of running into some other band of curious kids...

​

 

[Taco]

code by yousmelldead

Michael listened inattentively to the Fox sisters as they bickered with one another. A small smile formed as he glanced at the pair before returning his gaze to the black asphalt. His sugary spoils from trick or treating were stashed in a satchel bag that Michael used in his Indiana Jones costume from the previous year. Behind him, a cape made from a blue curtain flapped in the brisk, autumn wind and a plastic chestplate covered his blue-grey button-up shirt. He brushed some hair out of his face as his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek while he weighed the pros and cons of digging into his candy now.

He counted each sweet treat in his bag as he walked alongside Melissa, only half-listening to her and Mack, “I don’t know how you two live together,” He muttered under his breath. Out of all of his friends, he spent the most time with the twins, Melissa especially, so their constant sibling quarreling was something he was used to. Still, it amazed him that they haven't killed each other yet.

Michael grimaced at the mere mention of Whitechapel Manor. He wasn’t very superstitious, but the haunted stories that surrounded the property terrified him to his core. Besides, watching horror movies was what they did every year, it was their Halloween ritual. He always looked forward to it. Not to mention that Michael wasn't a fan of change, particularly when said change involved trespassing on supposedly haunted grounds.

Michael bit his bottom lip and shook his head, “I’m with Milly on this one, Mack. Whitechapel is…it just gives me the creeps,” He said while he rubbed the palm of his right hand with his left thumb, inadvertently smearing the paint made to simulate Ash’s metal arm. Anxious thoughts began to fill Michael's head the more they talked about Whitechapel, “And I only agreed to do the usual Halloween activities. What if we get in trouble? What if...” He started before pausing as Evan stammered out his vote on the matter. Michael frowned and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. He knew that, no matter how much he protested, they were going to Whitechapel Manor, "You guys are the worst."​

Michael A. Gray

 

[BELIAL.]

Charlotte Chambers
tags: Taco Hell0NHighWater location: Street ​

Although she kept it buried within herself, Charlie was always excited for Halloween. In-between all the shenanigans she and her friends got into, there was a bit of freedom to Halloween Night. Her father drank more, usually to the point of passing out early, which was better than just drinking and drinking but staying awake to wreak havoc. Matt usually hung around as well, ever since he showed up anyway, more to bum booze off of his birth father. Charlie was partial to ignoring both of them, zipping into her costume and diving out of the house and to her bike.

She'd been stopped at the bottom of the stairs by her father's loud voice, booming across the creaky floorboards. "Wherer... YOU going?" Her blood chilled, and although the billowy sleeves of her costume took in a lot of warmth, she felt her skin cool. She hadn't expected him to be awake, or at the very least, glued to the television. She turned slowly on her hell, black flats squeaking against the wood. He began to clear the distance, moving slowly. Like a snake posing to strike.

"Halloween, Daddy. Like every year. Milly and Mack--"

"Who?"

"Melissa and Mackenzie Fox, and the rest of my friends. We're just going trick or treating! I'll be spending the night there too, just so I don't wake you and Matt later. You don't have to worry Daddy," Charlie said, betraying her own bravado with a bit of annoyance seeping into her voice. Her eyes were wide, a small smile forcing itself onto her face. Her father sized her up, squinting his eyes and leaning in close. She could smell the whiskey on his breath.

"Why're you... dresserd... like that?" He asked, swaying as he pulled a bit of her clothes and hair. She'd managed to spend a bit of her stored up birthday money on the thrifted Princess Eilowny costume. A pink, puffy skirt that scratched her thighs (she was glad she wore shorts and tights beneath it), a black fabric corset that zipped up the back instead of lacing up, and a pirate's shirt she'd trimmed the poofy neckline off of. All that paired with her hair parted to allow some of her hair out, and a small black headband. He scoffed at the whole thing, yanking at the bodice. "You supposed to be some... I dunno. This some Dragon Dungeon thing you always talkin' about?"

Charlie stuck out her lip, pushing his hands away. "No, it's from a movie. Please, can I go? I'm going to be late," the girl whined, starting to turn away. Her father caught her by the sleeve again, making Charlie yelp out in the fear that he'd ripped the sleeve. She was whipped around quickly, visibly trembling as her father stared her down.

"You can go when I say you can, young lady. I'mer... your Daddy. Kay?" He shook her a bit, Charlie whimpering out a nod. She was anticipating some sort of blow, maybe a smack upside the head, but before he could plot his attack, Matt interrupted from the living room.

"Hey Dad! Wrestling's on again! Get your ass back here old man," Matt said from the doorway, waving his beer bottle. He caught Charlie's eye, and his poker face was a lot more intact than hers. He threw her a wink before her father's lazy gait managed to revolve around and drop Charlie's arm. He hustled off, swaying a bit, and threw a hand back to the girl.

"Better bring me back some damn candy, kid."

-

By the time the group had made their way down the block, Charlie's cheeks pink from the cool air and company, her pillowcase was delightfully half full. She wanted more, very clearly, and although she was getting older, trick or treating never got old for her. She knew that her time was coming up, that it wouldn't be cool anymore... but Charlie just liked to dress up. Pretending to be someone else, just for one night. Even if it wasn't acting, she still felt pretty in her costume and loved with her friends around her.

Charlie couldn't help but stare up at the moon, and the bit of clouds rolling in, while Mack and Milly argued over going to... Whitechapel? Charlie's neck snapped back down to earth, her eyes searching for Milly's hesitant ones. But Milly had complied, of course she had, from Mack's unwavering stance. Her face reddened a bit more, scenarios of visiting the Whitechapel Manor scaring her already. She'd much rather go back and watch scary movies. She could handle that. The movies weren't real, and the monsters in them weren't either. But the Whitechapel Manor was... real. Real, full of history and... scary. She looked to the others who hadn't quite spoken up for some sort of reassurance. Evan and Mike conceded as well, making Charlie let out a small groan.

"Wait, wait, just wait," Charlie sputtered out, holding up her hands to Mack. She looked at Milly with a bit of disappointment. "What about the movies? I still haven't seen Halloween 6 yet, didn't you guys just get it?" Charlie put on a small smile, reaching down to grab Milly's hand and swing it. She turned to acknowledge Mike, striking out her hand.

Charlie went for a bit of a desperate approach, because once Mike conceded she knew the others would probably bow first. Heck, Charlie wanted to just shut up and go along with it too. But she'd seen the hesitance in Michael and empathized. The last thing she wanted was to go home in tears, or in the back of a cop car for trespassing.

"I mean, Mike's right too! What if we get in trouble! Only stupid kids go there!" Charlie whined a bit, looking to the others for some agreement. The hope of it, at least.

 

[BasiliskVeranda]

LIAM "LEE" FORESTER

𝘮 𝘢 𝘺 𝘣 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘐' 𝘷 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘢 𝘭 𝘸 𝘢 𝘺 𝘴 ⠀ 𝘣 𝘦 𝘦 𝘯...​

​

MENTIONS: Hell0NHighWater Chimney Swift Taco BELIAL.
WHERE: Mulling the streets with the tween brigade
MOOD MUSIC: Green Day - When I Come Around
OOC: I'm a bit spacey rn sorry if it sucks⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Lee, like always, had made himself a satellite of his group of friends. A bit behind and to the left, the boy had also made the most pitiful attempt at a costume anyone had possibly ever seen; a shitty black tape mask with a Batman T-Shirt from the titular Batman Forever.

This was as much effort as Lee put into these things, as he'd decided at the ripe old age of tween that this was 'kid shit'.

'Kid shit', that he'd still gone on to do, because deep down, he really wanted to hang out with his friends and score some candy...and possibly light something on fire. He told himself it was mostly the arson and vandalism, if only to keep up the act of being Very Cool™.

A bit behind and to the left, he had his lighter, and he had an unassuming brown paper bag in his hand, with a very assuming trick inside of it. Lee was angling to antagonize a teacher that he didn't like (that hadn't liked him first, obviously), planning well in advance to light a bag of shit on fire on his front steps. Luckily for Mr. Simmons, Lee wouldn't get that opportunity. Sadly for Lee, something far worse was on the horizon, than his usual cloud of chaos.

"Do you guys want to head back to our place and watch horror movies? I can get my Grandpa to set up the projector in the basement—"

"We do that every year, too."

"Well then what do you suggest?"

Lee was not planning on sticking around if the gang went back and plopped in front of the projector to binge horror flicks. Mack had a point; they did this every year. The novelty had definitely worn off, and there was only so many times they could watch Candyman.

"I think we should take a trip over to Whitechapel Manor," Mack chimed in, mischief gleaming in her eyes. A quirk of a smile tilted the corner of Lee's mouth; she got it. There was a reason they spent so much time together. With Mack, things were never, ever boring.

Lee looked at the brown bag filled with dog shit in his hand. He looked at the lighter that was primed and ready. He twisted back to look at Mr. Simmons' porch. That old dickcheese would be outside any minute. Lee had this down to a goddamn science. He had been preparing for this all goddamn year.

He only had one opportunity to bolt up there, drop the goods, light in on fire, and run away, with just enough time to catch Simmons' brain explode when he coated flaming turds all over his old-people shoes.

"Anyway, I was thinking Nightmare on Elm Street?"

The twins continued their back and forth, with Lee mentally grappling with ditching his plan, listening to them bicker, and his innate desire to cause mischief. Every competing phrase split his focus, until he was left with Mack's Booyah!! and Milly's non-question (that was actually a question).

"Sure, fine. I'll go if everyone else does too." Shit-bag in hand, it was now up to the rest of the gang to figure their shit out. Lee was running out of time. The porch lights had flicked on.

"I tchink that sounds... that's a greath-- a gre-- a... a great idea."
"I'm with lobsterboy on th—" Lee's sentence was cut short, mostly by his increasing agitation to figuring out if he could still shit-bomb the porch in time, but also, Michael had cast his vote.
“I’m with Milly on this one, Mack. Whitechapel is…it just gives me the creeps,” Indiana Jones wasn't buying what Mack was selling, “And I only agreed to do the usual Halloween activities. What if we get in trouble? What if...”

"You guys are the worst."

Lee grimaced, whipped his head around and stooped to the ground, bag in hand.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath. Time. Was. Running. Out.

"Wait, wait, just wait. What about the movies? I still haven't seen Halloween 6 yet, didn't you guys just get it?" Charlie wasn't buying what Mack was selling either. "I mean, Mike's right too! What if we get in trouble! Only stupid kids go there!"

In one fell swoop, Lee dropped the bag of dog crap behind the tree and rounded the others, jamming his lighter back in his pocket. He'd missed his window. Mr. Simmons hefted himself out through his front door, wheeled around, and began to set out more candy. Of course, they were lemon heads. Nothing. But. Lemonheads.

If course he'd only set those out, because most kids hated them.

With a sigh, Lee stood and rounded behind Charlie.

"I wanna go'," the brunet hellion blurted out, hands stuck in his pockets, looking equal parts aloof and awkwardly interested, "But I get if you guys don't wanna'."

As much as his entire posture and body language said otherwise, Lee gave a shit. He gave very many shits. But whatever defense mechanism he'd somehow already managed to build up wouldn't let him appear too interested. It also wouldn't let him appear too protective, either. But for Charlie, yeah, he especially gave a shit if she got in trouble or not...

He knew how it went.

If these twerps all managed to get messed up, get in trouble, or worse, his ass would be grass, somehow, some way. Not only that, but he'd always thought of himself as the 'do as I say, not as I do' friend. He'd have loved nothing more than to go with Mack on an absolutely crazy adventure.

But he knew why Mike, Charlie, and Milly wouldn't be up for it. He also knew they probably shouldn't go anyways...Evan, now, that'd been a bit of a surprise...

Lee locked eyes with Mack for one painstaking moment, then dragged his gaze over to Milly, who had orchestrated this whole vote in the first place. Then he pulled out a watermelon dum dum from his pocket, lodged it into the side of his cheek, and sidled to Charlie's shoulder.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, ya' know," Lee said to all the others in their group; to Mike, partially to Evan, to Milly (not Mack), but mostly...to Charlie. He bumped her shoulder with his own, trying to tell her he 'got it'.

Was Lee peer pressuring the nay-sayers? Probably. By looking very aloof, very cool (and very stupid, as his mask was beyond moronic), and yet very interested in Mack's escapades. He had tried to use psychic-chaos-tween-telepathy on Mack by giving her eyeball signals that he was down to go, regardless of what the others said.

Whitechapel Manor or bust, because Mr. Simmons' karma had been on his agenda for an entire 365 days, and he needed something more daring than just Nightmare on Elm Street.

With that, they'd have to wait for the rest of the gang to chime in. Lee, the perpetual chaos engine and magnet, had no where to pour his energy, so he took to snacking. It was out of his hands, anyways...and if he tried to light the tree on fire—like he very much wanted to do at this very moment—they'd all probably get in way worse trouble than sneaking around in Whitechapel Manor.

If nobody caught them, nothing bad could happen. But here, clearly, he'd be caught red handed next to a flaming tree...and he'd drag the rest of them down with him.

"Anybody want my lemonheads? I hate these things," a peace offering. Maybe more peer-pressuring. Maybe he was just bored. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

That flaming dog-shit prank would've been so metal.

...𝘮 𝘰 𝘳 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘤 𝘰 𝘮 𝘧 𝘰 𝘳 𝘵 𝘢 𝘣 𝘭 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘪 𝘯 ⠀ 𝘤 𝘩 𝘢 𝘰 𝘴​

 

[tamarapasek]

Liz adjusted her satchel. Though she had insisted on it, making a Margaret Whitechapel costume out of a vintage dress, wasn’t the best idea. Sure she loved writing fake scary stories in her notebook, when someone gave her bad treats, but it was still really itchy. She wouldn’t say anything though. All she’d get were eye rolls, and “I told you so”s

She had always loved Halloween. The legends, and the candy, and the waiting to see if you’d get attacked by monsters. Not to mention she could absolutely own her weird paranormal obsessed self, in a way that would have got her bullied any other day. Besides it’s nice to break up the monotony of hoodies, and pants every once in a while.

She followed the group, listening intently. Once the Fox girls began an argument over whether to go to Whitechapel Manor. She looked up grinning like a kid. It had to be fate right? She was dressed as Margaret Whitechapel for crying out loud! If they didn’t agree to go, she thought that she’d just die. She had to convince them.

She ran over to Michael. She didn’t just want him to succumb, she wanted him to see how cool it would be. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, the way a conman does when trying to build a rapport with his victim. "Michael, we’re the best and you know it. It’ll be so much fun! And besides the story of Whitechapel is that the victims are people she wrote about. What are the chances that she wrote about us? We won’t get hurt, I promise you.” She wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to convince him, but she did.

 

[yourlocal-eboyy]

MOOD: Slightly vexed at first, but his demeanour becomes quickly intent at the mention at Whitechapel. Then he is pissed off once more.

OUTFIT: Dave is wearing a replica uniform of one of his favourite pitchers, however, he has a prop baseball bat holstered on his back; this contradicts the pitcher’s uniform.

LOCATION: In the group of his peers.

two

INTERACTIONS: Lee, Milly ? ?

(ps i don’t actually know how to use these so if I fuck up sorry ughhhghgg)

MENTIONS: uhhhh Lee, Milly, and Mack I guess

two

TAGS:
Hell0NHighWater
BasiliskVeranda

two

TL;DR: Dave gets intrigued about Whitechapel, agreeing to go, but is then pissed off over Lemonheads.

two

Dave Aguillard

Dave had been walking with his peer group the entire night. The boy wore a mock-uniform of his favourite pitcher, a toy baseball bat holstered to his back. His uniform was mostly white with the exception of the logos. His hat was white as well; the brim was black, and the logo on his hat was as well. The boy kept his bag of candy low with his left hand, not having much in his bag. He didn’t like candy much, and what little he did like, he was quite finicky about. He would straight up refuse what he didn’t want. He wasn’t a spoiled boy, no; he was simply a jackass of a child, a brat, if you will. His posture was empowering, he was attempting to behave as if he was in charge in the occasion that someone were to pay any interest in a group of mere children.

He was hearing the Fox girls’ bickering, sure, but he wasn’t really truly listening much. In fact, he wasn’t paying much attention to anything. The boy had his head down, shuffling through his bag. Satisfied with what he saw, he tied the bag off and lowered it once again. His posture leaned slightly to the right as he began to think; he was thinking about everything, really. Dave’s gaze was focused in the distance. His eyes narrowed and he scowled slightly when he came to terms that the girls were actually bickering now that his attention was back to the group. It wasn’t just the arguing he was mad about, it was also the fact that his baseball bat was a mere toy. He wanted a real one, he wanted to really play the sport, he wanted to really be on a team; he wanted everything, really. He wouldn’t bitch and moan to his friends about it, though. He had standards.

That’s when Dave heard it, the mention of Whitechapel. The boy’s gaze shot up quickly, his dark brown eyes widened. Emotion swept over him like a tsunami, a tingling sensation; he though of everything that could happen, he was filled with anxiety, excitement, confusion, everything at once. He thought of how cool it would be to tell everybody that we went there, that he came out unscathed, but, he was also afraid. Dave wasn’t the kind of kid that liked to get into trouble, sure, he did get into trouble a lot, but he didn’t like it. His eyes darted around, his mouth quivered slightly, trying to speak, but at a loss for words. He thought about it, then replied to Milly’s query, “I- uh, yeah, sure. I’d go, it’s not like I have a curfew or anything“. It was true, Dave didn’t really ever have a curfew, or really any rules, in fact. He then looked over to Lee, who had offered the Lemonheads. His face turned to disgust as he shook his head, groaning. He glared at Lee as he pushed his black hair out of his face. “No way, those things are disgusting. They taste like medicine- I don’t- I don’t know why people even call ‘em candy“ Dave began—though he earlier swore himself not to—complaining. “Like- j- nobody I ever asked even likes ‘em. I don’t get why old people love ‘em so much” He stated, shaking his head in disapproval once again, his tone was aggressive. Somehow, he was getting himself worked up over Lemonheads. “They’re flat-out bad, there’s nothin’ else I can say ‘bout them”.

I'd say I told you so but you just gonna cry
You just wanna know those peanut butter vibes

code by valen t.

>ffrffgdbdh sorry for a sudden format change on my next post, just realised i can change the colours ahahahhjjjj;

 

[Kirkodirk]

It was pretty quiet at the old house. The only sounds echoing through the small cluser of rooms were chirping crickets, and the some commercial on the TV in the other room. The place was just far enough away from the edge of town that you couldn't hear any of the action packed trick or treating shenanigans riddling the town. Cal wasn't paying much attention to the TV, he didn't care for it, or anything that kept him in the house really. The only thing on his mind as he shouldered that oversized formal jacket was how the hair looked. It was way longer in the movie, but it would do with it reaching just past his earlobe. The only thing that stopped him last year was the hair. He kept his hair pretty short last year, and with the movie coming out so close to Halloween he'd barely had any time to prepare. Now he was ready. He clipped on the fake earing and the clip on tie. For his final touch a helping of ketchup on the shirt, with some extra caution not to get it on the jacket. After all the prep work it was finally paying off.

"Now this is some serious gourmet shit right here," he muttered to himself like a proud parent. He walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen across the house. "Dad, I'm going trick or treating with some friends. You okay with that?" he asked more out of politeness than for actual permission. Dad liked to still feel like there was still order in the household or something similar, and Cal might've had a part of him that felt the same way.

"Yeah that's fine, don't stay out too late," he called, facing back towards his son for a split second before lazily drifting his half conscious gaze back to the box TV.

As the fake hitman strode towards the door, he stopped himself, "What if I stay at a friends house?"

"What? Yeah, sure," he blurted back, but then promptly interjected, "No girls though." His finger pointed and his bushy eyebrows perked up like dog ears on high alert.

"Yeah, sure." His dad actually made him smile, it'd been a while. Cal fantisized that maybe he did it on purpose, as he mounted his bike and rode off to see a few girls from his class.

----

The air wasn't misty, but the meager breeze managed to just scarcely dampen his costume as he rode on the short stretch of dirt road leading downhill to the town. He left his bike in the twins' driveway before heading off with the regular gang. After a pretty successful night of candy harvesting, they all stopped to discuss how they were going to spend the rest of the night. He was pretty quiet throughout the conversation, all the while analyzing everyone's reaction to the proposed trip to whitechaple. Whatever stories people spouted about that place seemed like half baked bullshit, so he wasn't particularly scared. He figured a few hours into exploring the dump they'd get bored and march their happy asses back to watch whatever flick they craved for the evening.

He stepped forward putting himself in the small circle of debate, "Hold up, it's only like ten or something, right? It's not like we can't do both. Whatever Twilight Zone episode we want to encounter at Whitechaple is probably gonna take like three hours tops. Let's say we head up there then roll back to the Fox hole once we're done. I mean it can't be that bad, can it?" he ends with his shoulders shrugged awkwardly. His skinny arms made his sleeves look like drapes than an actual suit. He dropped off his invisible stage and haphazardly stepped towards the twins. "I'm up for it, but I'm not convinced this spooky shack is all it's cracked up to be. Y'know, cause it's pretty much just a spooky shack," he explained to them, more to Milly than anything.

 

[BELIAL.]

Charlotte Chambers
tags: Taco Hell0NHighWater BasiliskVeranda location: Street ​

Charlie visibly jumped when Lee had rounded behind her. She'd been so preoccupied she'd already noticed, and whirling behind, her look of minor indignation deflated instantly. Her glaze flitted between the others once more. Dave was getting upset over the Lemonheads, Liz seemed to want to go, and even Cal (though she suspected no less). It seemed to be the people who didn't care too much about it wanted to go the most, or even to try and dredge up a few spooky encounters. As scared as she was of the idea, she couldn't lie, she did.... kind of want to go. In the way that every year the group went back to watch the same scary movies. It wasn't the repetition, it was the thrill. Charlie couldn't openly admit the bit of a rush that it gave, she figured it would make her weird. Still, the way that the majority was turning against her and Mike...

She couldn't help but smile a little bit at Lee's gentle shoulder nudge, linking her fingers together around her pillowcase and shaking the bag a bit. "I mean... I don't not not want to go... just the consequences, you know..." Her face became tiny, a mere squeak as her cheeks flushed with thought. She felt dumb for voicing concern, it wasn't her usual temper to be such a potential killjoy or baby... but no way did she want to come off as some scared baby.

The implications were swarming around, mostly in her head. Charlie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, biting her tongue. She opened her eyes, looking down the street. A small sigh, but she managed to grow a smile on her face. "Okay, okay. Point made. Maybe it is some dumb spooky house... but if there's ANYTHING... anything that goes wrong... we have to leave! Okay?" Charlie searched for everyone's gaze, and looked up with big wet eyes at Lee.

"Can I be right behind you... When we go in-- figure I can watch your back," she said with a quick flicker of her eyes, under her breath so hopefully only Lee could hear. Everyone was good about each other's limits and whatnot, given the discussion happening and the lack of any bullying-- which made Charlie delighted to have her friends in her life-- but there was still the silent judging. No one would say anything, maybe but... she knew they would be thinking it.

Charlie once again looked back at Michael. "Don't worry. We'll all keep an eye on each other. I promise."

 

[Taco]

code by yousmelldead

Michael was silent as Charlie spoke, contemplating. His thumb went to his mouth and he began to bite his nail; a bad habit of his and a telltale sign of deep thought. If Michael was being honest, he still didn’t want to go, but how could he say no to the others? On the other hand, Charlie was practically begging for him to stay on her side. But if Michael kept fighting it, Mack would eventually use her puppy-dog eyes on him and it would all come crumbling down. It was beginning to feel like there was no point in trying to avoid Whitechapel Manor.

“Well, I’m glad someone has some sense here,” Michael said, breaking his prolonged silence, “Unfortunately, Charles, the majority of the people in our circle don't care if what they're doing is considered 'stupid'.”

Now, it was Lee’s turn to express his opinion on the matter and, quite frankly, his nonchalant attitude about the whole situation bothered Michael. In fact, Lee’s entire chaotic nature clashed with Michael’s careful and quiet attitude most of the time. Despite this, he still liked Lee a lot. If nothing else, there was never a dull moment when Lee was around. Honestly, if it wasn't for his friends like Lee, Michael would be holed up in his room, rolling dice or playing Mortal Kombat by himself.

A skinny arm snaked around his shoulders as Elizabeth began to try and dispel his doubts about Whitechapel. Michael playfully rolled his eyes and slipped out of her hold. “You’re very convincing, but I'm still not sure about this. And none of your coaxing will change my mind,” Michael replied, “It’s not that I think she’s going to kill us, I just don’t think we should hang around in an abandoned, decrepit building. You can’t promise that an old support beam won’t fall and crush me, Lizzie."

After Cal piped up, Michael considered his compromise. He still wasn't keen on visiting Whitechapel, and that was clearly visible from his expression, but he thought it was a better idea than anything else presented. At least in this scenario, they got to maintain their annual tradition. Michael nodded slowly and began biting his nail again as he mulled it over, slowly but surely solidifying his judgement. He frowned, "Three hours seems like a long time. What are we even going to do once we get into this haunted house?" It was a question for nobody in particular. He doubted they would give him a real answer anyways.

At this point, almost everyone had made their stance clear and only he and Charlie were against the idea. But it was obvious that Charlie being swept away to the other side. In a matter of minutes, Michael was once again the only stick in the mud. It was a role he played frequently, one he wasn't ashamed of playing. It was the same every time. He was almost always the last bastion to fall and, even when he did concede, he was always ready to say 'I told you so,' when things inevitably went wrong. When Charlie promised him they'd all look out for one another, he gave a forced smile and a small nod, "Of course, Charles."

Glancing around at all of his friends, Michael began to feel an immense pressure. He didn't want to go, not even a tiny bit. His gaze lingered on Charlie and Milly. He wanted to say no, that Whitechapel was bad news, that all he wanted to do was to watch movies with his friends. And as he opened his mouth, the words just didn't come out and the pressure turned into a knot in his stomach. It was as if he forgot how to speak. Michael began to rub his palm again, the paint coming off in small flakes, and he sighed. His eyes drifted to the ground, defeated by his own inability to reject his friends once again. He shrugged, "I guess we're going to Whitechapel. I'm not happy about it though."
​

​

Tags: BELIAL. tamarapasek Hell0NHighWater

Michael A. Gray

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎Deadwood, Oregon
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎October 31st 1995
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Whitechapel Manor

I N † T H E † D E A D † W O O D S ​

Melissa “Milly” Fox​

Milly waited patiently as everyone said their piece. There was never any judgement in her face as they spoke, nor any type of emotion really, just understanding. The small curve to her lips never wavered, but when Charlie grasped her hand she turned to smile a bit wider. It was as if her face had become illuminated, revived from the contact of a gentle squeeze. She squeezed her hand back before re-engaging in the discussion.

"Hold up, it's only like ten or something, right? It's not like we can't do both. Whatever Twilight Zone episode we want to encounter at Whitechapel is probably gonna take like three hours tops. Let's say we head up there then roll back to the Fox hole once we're done. I mean it can't be that bad, can it?"

“Holy shit, Cal, that’s a good point!” Mack exclaimed around a mouthful of Reeses, the fake blood on her mouth made the chocolate taste a little weird but she was trying really hard not to think about it. When she was done eating, she put her fake fangs back in and grinned as she watched him take a little step back.

"I'm up for it, but I'm not convinced this spooky shack is all it's cracked up to be. Y'know, cause it's pretty much just a spooky shack."

Milly looked away from her sister and focused on Cal, looking thankful for the reassurance. A bit of tension left her shoulders and she began to nod slowly as the idea cemented in her mind. It was just a shack. She didn’t have to worry. They would only be there for a couple hours max.

“You’re right, Cal. Besides, I think Mack will throw a fit if we don’t go.”

“Ah-Ah-Ah,” Mack tuttled, a smirk hitching her lips, “I don’t throw fits. I use underhanded tactics to get what I want.”

Milly rolled her eyes before turning to look at Charlie and Michael. She leaned around Charlie to flash Michael a smile. She wanted him to be okay with this. She knew he didn’t like Whitechapel and she sensed his hesitation. “Just like Lee said, it’s okay if—”

"I guess we're going to Whitechapel. I'm not happy about it though."

“Oh!” Melissa blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly, “Okay then.”

“Soooooo,” Mack drawled, grabbing a nearby lamp-post and looping herself around it, “have we reached a verdict?”

“Yes.”

“Cool,” Mack mused, leaping off the sidewalk before pointing to a road that led through the woods, up a hill, and to the decrepit manor sitting atop. “Guess we should get walking then.”

The journey itself was not a long one but by the time they reached the top of the hill, Milly had the distinct feeling that there was no turning back. This house that was once a beacon of its age now resembles something that has been through a war. Nothing so dramatic has befallen it, just the passage of time and neglect.

Mack charged ahead, brimming with excitement, “Evan, help me find a way in!”

Milly huffed, crossing her arms, “You know no one’s ever found a way inside right, Mack? What makes you think you’ll be any different?”

Mack paused mid stride, turning to face her twin. She looked hurt for a second before it was swept away by a forced smile, “Just for that, Mills, I’m finding a way in. It’ll be worth it to watch you eat your words.”

With that, Mack strode off with purpose and a determined look in her eye.

Milly sighed and looked back at Whitechapel Manor. For a second she thought she saw a curtain in one of the windows move, but chalked it up to her own imagination. Turning to Lizzie, Milly gestured at the house with her thumb, “Didn’t Margaret Whitechapel have a book of scary stories?” She paused for a moment to turn to the rest of the group, “Do you think it’s still in there?”


BELIAL. Chimney Swift BasiliskVeranda Kirkodirk yourlocal-eboyy tamarapasek Taco

 

[tamarapasek]

Lizzie grinned. “I promise you. If you get injured because of an old support beam, or at all, I will never ever make you visit any haunted houses again. I’ll never ask if you’ll go ghost hunting with me, and whenever we hangout, you can choose everything we do.”

"Exactly! We go to the house, meet the ghosts, and then we go back home to watch Scream or whatever movie the scaredy cats can handle.” She agreed wholeheartedly, though she hoped that they’d be able to have so much fun at the Whitechapel Manor, they’d decide to stay a little longer.

Nodding along, with Mackenzie she in turn took out some of her candy. Being somewhat boring, she grabbed a piece of chewing gum, and started chewing obnoxiously loud

As she eyed the group around her, she started to get somewhat anxious. What if somehow their minds managed to be changed? That would be awful, but she knew it wouldn’t stop her. She’d just go on her own.

"I guess we're going to Whitechapel. I'm not happy about it though." Lizzie immediately perked you at Michael’s response. She could have hugged him right then, and there, but she restrained herself because she had a feeling he’d push her off, and change his mind.

She hitched up her somewhat long skirt, and began walking towards Whitechapel Manor. Though she had picked the perfect costume for the occasion, she couldn’t help, but grumble. Even after holding the skirt up, she was tracking in mud.

As the sisters bickered over whether Mack would be able to find a way in, she glanced at the house. She had to find a way in. She, and Mack didn’t tire the group into compliance for nothing.

“Yup. The stories say that she would write about people she didn’t like, and then they’d suddenly die.” She remarked somewhat creepily. Though she had a genuine interest in the macabre, she also enjoyed people out with her stories

 

[yourlocal-eboyy]

MOOD: Adventurous and excited, then angry for a bit.

OUTFIT: Dave is wearing a replica uniform of one of his favourite pitchers, however, he has a prop baseball bat holstered on his back; this contradicts the pitcher’s uniform.

LOCATION: Whitechapel

two

INTERACTIONS: Milly, kind of- sort of the group-

MENTIONS: a, the group ? ?

two

TAGS:

@ ah, everyone sort of but I don’t wanna tag everyone i don’t want to be disruptive edhdbhjbbjhd

two

TL;DR: Dave goes at it again with the complaining. He offers to break a few windows to get in if there’s no other way.

two

Dave Aguillard

Dave had no opposition when it came to the group, he just went with the flow of things. Whatever everybody decided was cool with him, just as long as he got to tag along. Dave played a cool attitude and kept with his peers, however, on the inside Dave was super excited; he was scared, too, but mostly bursting with anticipation. The boy kept his mouth shut for the trip, keeping what little things pissed him off to himself. They were minor things, but everything got under his skin; uneven footstep sounds, loose leaves, crickets. God, Dave fucking hated crickets. Those jumping dickwads that always tried straight for your face. Just like flies, ooh, don’t get him started. Well, Dave walked with his group, candy bag loosely slung over his shoulder.

When the group arrived at the manor, Dave couldn’t help but run straight to the porch, looking at every minute detail about the place. However, one thing Dave didn’t like—oh, here we go again—was the poor foundation, surprise though, it didn’t piss him off, it mostly scared him. Dave didn’t like when things looked like they’d collapse at any minute, which is reasonable, nobody WANTS to get hurt, right? Yeah, nobody likes that. Dave stayed a ways away from anything that looked too unstable. He used those dark brown eyes of his to scan the perimeter, looking for a way in.

Dave twirled his bag around, popped some gum in his mouth and looked at the group, then back at the manor. He flicked his gum around until it finally got soft. “God, I hate this gum, but it doesn’t taste bad. But, like, why make it hard to begin with? Is it not supposed to be soft? Like- when you get packet gum it’s different, but for some reason Double Bubble just- ugh, I can’t. Hopefully they accept complaint letters through the mail.”—we’re not going to talk about how many letters he’s sent— Dave started complaining, but quickly shut up, trying his best not to sound like a little prick, but it was getting really hard when basically all he could here was crickets chirping.

He heard the query rise about the book. Dave loves scary stories, it’s one of the few things he doesn’t complain about—that much, at least— He looked at Milly, then back at the house, his face quickly beaming with excitement. “I sure hope it’s there. Could you imagine what kind of legends we’d be for finding it? Ah, I wonder how much it’s worth..” Dave didn’t plan on taking or selling the book or anything, but he was just curious. He looked around then asked nobody in particular “If we can’t find a good entrance, should we just break in?” He pulled the bat off of his back and twirled it around “I think I could break a window or two.” Forget the part where Dave doesn’t like getting in trouble, he just doesn’t like getting caught. If nobody tells, he can’t get in trouble. It’s a solid win. Really, he was just trying to impress everyone.

I'd say I told you so but you just gonna cry
You just wanna know those peanut butter vibes

code by valen t.

 

[BasiliskVeranda]

LIAM "LEE" FORESTER

𝘮 𝘢 𝘺 𝘣 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘐' 𝘷 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘢 𝘭 𝘸 𝘢 𝘺 𝘴 ⠀ 𝘣 𝘦 𝘦 𝘯...​

​

WITH: Basically acknowledges everybody and there is some comment or w/e because he's Lee, but like I'm already big mood tired, so here are some tags for direct actionation I guess; BELIAL. Taco tamarapasek yourlocal-eboyy
WHERE: Street > Whitechapel Manor Outside
MOOD MUSIC: Sega Bodega & Dorian Electra - Teenage Dirtbag
OOC: popping one out cause i unno what my brain be doin until monday lmao...

Liz was in one Mack's crazy plan; Lee smirked into his shoulder, before he finally dug into his own bag of candy. Most of it, lemonheads, because as he was a magnetic for rainy day feelings, they'd given him the worst candy imaginable. Somehow, despite managing to grab handfuls of Twix at every turn, here they were.

Sour and lemon, hard and bitter, much like the bitter pills of life the tween would no doubt have to swallow in the following years. If you leave the bitter parts for later, that's all you're left with; he would undoubtedly grow all the wiser for it.

Palming a handful of the candy Lee was trying to palm-off, Dave piped up (after agreeing to shenanigans) with a likesome spat that made Lee's half-smile grow criminal.

“No way, those things are disgusting. They taste like medicine- I don’t- I don’t know why people even call ‘em candy“ Lee snorted at this, and yet, Dave wasn't done, “Like- j- nobody I ever asked even likes ‘em. I don’t get why old people love ‘em so much”.

The half-grin the tween disaster had plastered on his dumb face was poetry.

“They’re flat-out bad, there’s nothin’ else I can say ‘bout them”.

"Yeah, they f—" Lee's gaze darted to Charlie and then back again, "they're...wicked gross. And it's not like the old motherf—people like them. They just know we hate 'em."

With that, Lee gave Charlie a small wink and went back to jamming around in his own bag of candy. He managed to score a Twix and ate it. 'Ate' is probably not the most accurate term here; Lee didn't eat. He inhaled.

It was Cal's turn to put in his two cents as Lee inhaled more sweets. He didn't even seem like he was chewing them; they went in his mouth and evaporated on sight.

"Hold up, it's only like ten or something, right? It's not like we can't do both. Whatever Twilight Zone episode we want to encounter at Whitechaple is probably gonna take like three hours tops. Let's say we head up there then roll back to the Fox hole once we're done. I mean it can't be that bad, can it? "I'm up for it, but I'm not convinced this spooky shack is all it's cracked up to be. Y'know, cause it's pretty much just a spooky shack."

Cal had a point. They all had points. They could get into trouble...they totally had enough time to do both...it was risky...it was just a spooky shack...

As Lee had nothing to add to any of this so far, except to pretend he wasn't very interested (though he was) in hopes reverse psycho-whatever did its job, he took to turning his lighter on and off with a be-chocolated thumb. He had a smear of it on his face. Inelegant, as all tweens were—moreso if they were nightmare children—but more intense than most of his peers.

Fire.

He was bored.

His focus was wandering. It always did, until something held it, and that something tended to be Charlie. He half didn't want her to come along; Lee's protective side always won, despite his lesser demons' best intentions.

"I mean... I don't not not want to go... just the consequences, you know..." she started up. Lee stopped fiddling with his lighter, jammed it into his pocket, and dug around in his candy bag yet again...which was nothing but a ratty-ass TMNT pillow case.

"Okay, okay. Point made. Maybe it is some dumb spooky house... but if there's ANYTHING... anything that goes wrong... we have to leave! Okay?" Her eyes were glassy. Lee's half smile returned in full-force, but softened like the fading of his arch-nemesis' porch lights. They were finally off...Fire

Mmm. Nope. No fire, not tonight.

"Sure thing," was all Lee gave her, but the expression he made was oddly seriously.

"Can I be right behind you... When we go in-- figure I can watch your back," her voice came out small much like she was, compared to the lanky nightmare-boy.

"Totally. Need someone watching my six if I gotta' punt a ghost in the crotch." Lee was serious, but that seriousness was colored in concern when he wrapped his arm around Charlie's shoulder and give her a half-hug squeeze. Just to let her know he knew she was scared, and it'd be ok.

Michael made his reserved hot-take, taking a jab at the squad's general disregard of smart choices. Lee and Michael had a weird vibe; whenever Lee seemed to egg on questionable choices, and even when they weren't quite his own, Michael seemed mostly irritated at Lee.

That's how he always was, but the mild annoyance directed his way could still be felt by the half-smiling tween disaster.

It still bothered him, but it wasn't like Lee could help it any.

Even if he'd been less of a powder keg waiting to blow at any more and delight in the results...the explosion would find him anyways. It always did, so he'd just stopped fighting it, and simply joined in whatever his luck gave him.

Michael was the total opposite. He kept Lee grounded a bit, but the oil and water thing...

Lee's focus shot itself and limped away.

He'd now taking to slipping random lemonheads into Charlie's goody bag when she wasn't holding it in a death-grip. He also might have given her his last Twix, as well.

"I guess we're going to Whitechapel. I'm not happy about it though," Mikey finally made the daring choice. Lee made his intentionally obnoxious response to it.

"F—heck yes! The committee has spoken!" droned Lee, raising his arms in mock exuberance, which was actually a great deal more genuine than he was letting on. The half-smile said as much.

The twins had begun their back and forth, with Lee smiling mischievously at Mack's 'underhanded tactics' comment, but that was about it for the brunet nightmare's responses. The lighter was yet again the most engaging thing for the short walk, until they came upon the house, of course.

It was decrepit, like Mr. Simmons. Old and battered by time, and honestly? A bit lonely lookin', and maybe just a little bit scary. Lee took that moment to instinctively put himself in front of a few of the others. He crossed his arms over his chest, over his shitty batman shirt, and peered through his sorry excuse for a mask.

“Evan, help me find a way in!” crooned Mack. Against his general nature, or perhaps...moreso true to who he was beyond the desire to light everything on fire...Lee took a cautious once-over of the place.

The floor boards would probably be rotted out. Someone was definitely gonna' get hurt if they messed around too much.

“You know no one’s ever found a way inside right, Mack? What makes you think you’ll be any different?” Milly insisted, always the level-headed one.

“Just for that, Mills, I’m finding a way in. It’ll be worth it to watch you eat your words.” It seemed like Mack was on a mission, and once she got an idea into her head, she never truly let it go. She'd probably keep them there all night trying to figure it out...

“Didn’t Margaret Whitechapel have a book of scary stories? Do you think it’s still in there?” Lee shrugged at Milly's question. Why would it be? Don't they take away dead peoples' stuff when they die and like...sell it? Lee didn't know the answer. But what he did know was that Lizzie seemed intent on making this all the more creepy.

“Yup. The stories say that she would write about people she didn’t like, and then they’d suddenly die.”

"Well, Marge is dead, so...it's not like we gotta' worry about more than just, yeah, a support beam fallin' on us and f—hurting. Making...the...uh...big pain." Lee was only censoring himself because of Charlie. He felt stupid but proud of this. He knew she probably didn't care if he swore.

But he cared that he acted at least a little better around her than usual. It would be so easy to just go along and follow Mack on her crazy adventure, break open a window with a pillow-case covered fist, or whatever...

But Lee felt like he had to be better.

God damn it.

Dave had started complaining about his gum...then abruptly changed topics.

“I sure hope it’s there. Could you imagine what kind of legends we’d be for finding it? Ah, I wonder how much it’s worth..” Lee snorted at Dave's quip.

"Ya' plannin' on sellin' it? What if it's cursed?" the fire-starter chided with a soft chuckle. He didn't believe in curses. It'd still be funny to scare the piss out of at least one of them though—no.

Be good. Just for one f...one damn night, be—

“If we can’t find a good entrance, should we just break in?” Dave had a bat. “I think I could break a window or two.”

—be bad. Be very bad.

"And this is why I love you, you major-league punk," Lee cackled without any shred of irony. He rounded Dave and clapped his hands over his shoulders, completing forgetting that he was trying his best to be the Dad Friend. The censorship died. He had nothing left but fire in his eyes.

"If we're too loud somebody could come or somethin'...hmm," The wheels were turning...in the wrong direction..."better if we had duct tape. Next best is do the smaller pane near the doorknob so someone can reach in. Put a fluffy coat on it or somethin' and then tap just hard enough to break. Deafens the sound..."

Why he knew this he would not say. Lee avoided Charlie's gaze if she gave him one. What he did not avoid was wrapping his arms around Dave's shoulders and hanging on like an evil, clingy shroud. He'd found his prime enabler.

The wheels—

"...hm...who wants to sacrifice a coat or their goody bags?" The wheels were gone. The wheels were in space. The wheels had left the fucking building. Now the only thing that existed was Lee's intense hyperfocus on causing damage to a neglected old building that probably, definitely, totally didn't have a spooky book or a spooky ghost in it.

"Fuck it, just smash one."

...𝘮 𝘰 𝘳 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘤 𝘰 𝘮 𝘧 𝘰 𝘳 𝘵 𝘢 𝘣 𝘭 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘪 𝘯 ⠀ 𝘤 𝘩 𝘢 𝘰 𝘴​

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎Deadwood, Oregon
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎October 31st 1995
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Whitechapel Manor

I N † T H E † D E A D † W O O D S ​

Melissa “Milly” Fox​

“Yup. The stories say that she would write about people she didn’t like, and then they’d suddenly die.”

Milly's expression was caught somewhere between shock and fear, subconsciously edging closer to Charlie. "Um, thanks Lizzie, that's nice to know..." She mumbled, shifting on her feet.

"Well, Marge is dead, so...it's not like we gotta' worry about more than just, yeah, a support beam fallin' on us and f—hurting. Making...the...uh...big pain." Lee interjected with the same rational Milly was attempting to maintain.
"Th—"
“I sure hope it’s there. Could you imagine what kind of legends we’d be for finding it? Ah, I wonder how much it’s worth..”
"Ya' plannin' on sellin' it? What if it's cursed?"

Her gaze darted between Lee and Dave, her frown deepening with each word. Milly crossed her arms over her chest, "There won't be any stealing, or selling, or tres—"
Milly stopped mid sentence, growing a bit more irritated with the two boys once she realized they were still talking as if she hadn't said anything at all. She swept a helpless look toward Cal, hoping that at least he wouldn't be entertaining this craziness as well. An ugly, rotten, feeling rolled in her gut and she wished for a moment that she had never let Mack talk her into coming. Something about this house wasn't right.

"Fuck it, just smash one."

Almost as soon as Lee had spoken, the air was suddenly rent by the sound of breaking glass. Eyes wide, Milly whirled toward the noise only to see Mack in her dumb Dracula cape, bouncing another stone in the palm of her hand. She was squinting at one of the larger windows on the first floor that wasn't boarded up, rearing an arm back in preparation for another solid throw. If she had been more interested in sports, the girls softball team probably would have loved to have her.

"Mackenzie! What the fudge!?" Milly's voice was a bit shrill, her jaw slack as she stared at her twin in muted horror.

Mack shrugged, flashing a smile full of fake fangs, "What? Did you really expect me to listen to you talk about it for the next hour?"
Turning back toward the mansion, she hurled a stone at the same window, watching in satisfaction as a few more chunks of glass broke away.

"That's vandalism!" Milly cried.

"No, shit, Melissa." Mack droned, already strolling toward the window next to the front door. She turned toward the group, moving backwards as she flashed a grin, "Yo, Davy, would you mind knocking the rest of that glass away? I think Lee might be onto something!"

"You can't seriously--"

Mack was already devesting herself of her cape and dropping the loose bits of her costume to the ground before turning to look back at her friends once more, "If someone can give me a boost, I'll climb in and unlock the front door."

BELIAL. BasiliskVeranda Kirkodirk yourlocal-eboyy tamarapasek Taco

 

[BELIAL.]

Charlotte Chambers
tags: Taco Hell0NHighWater tamarapasek location: Whitechapel Manor - outside ​

Despite her deep-seated reservations, Charlie could only nod and forcibly extend her feet one step at a time. She rummaged in her bag for something to chew on, only noticing when they were almost at Whitechapel that her random draws were significantly more lemonheads than she had originally started out. Looking between Lee and Dave, the two most vocal anti-lemonhead speakers this evening, she merely narrowed her eyes and vowed to exact her revenge later. Lemonheads weren't that bad anyway. The walk up to the front door felt like the walk of a group of prisoners waiting to be executed. Something like in the French Revolution, where they were all terrible aristocrats in the face of a bloodthirsty crowd. Instead, the crowd was the watching windows of Whitechapel manor, glowing in the moonlight, and they were just a group of ill-fated kids.

The moment all the mischievous minds clicked together, searching for an entrance (legal or illegal), Charlie's eyes wandered to the front door. She ignored giving Lee a death-glare as he rattled off the various ways of breaking in, just hoping that the police weren't called any second. The front door seemed like the basic solution, maybe, but it was more than that. She slipped forward, dropping her bag at her feet as she ran her small hands over the ornate and inlaid wood. Her brows furrowed in thought, the edge of her nail digging into the edges and cracks. It looked like some puzzle, decoder maybe, you'd get in a cereal box. Or even in the mystery movies, like there were real secrets behind the door.

"Hey, uh, Mike, Milly, Liz? Come check this out?" Charlie said over her shoulder. She tried not to look too worried, but there was something suspicious about a house that lacked a normal knob and lock.

She jumped when the glass broke, shrieking a little. Gripping her heart she looked with wide eyes to the others. Milly chastising Mack for breaking open a window, the boys all over it like ants on an ant-hill. Charlie took a deep breath, gulping down a bead of air stuck in her throat, and waved Mike and the others over again.

"Mike," Charlie said to him, "Tell me this doesn't look like something you'd make up for a game. What do you think it means?"

 

[yourlocal-eboyy]

MOOD: Fucking a w e s o m e

OUTFIT: Dave is wearing a replica uniform of one of his favourite pitchers, however, he has a prop baseball bat holstered on his back; this contradicts the pitcher’s uniform.

LOCATION: Whitechapel

two

INTERACTIONS: Lee, Mack

MENTIONS: Milly, Lee, Mack

two

TAGS:

Hell0NHighWater
BasiliskVeranda

two

TL;DR: vandilism

two

Dave Aguillard

Dave’s smile was as wide as it could get. The boy couldn’t help but chuckle—well, giggling, almost—in excitement. Lee’s instigation had Dave’s heart pounding, never had he had somebody WANT him to break something. He truly felt as if he fit in with someone. “I like the way you think, Lee.” He said, raising the bat up, readying the swing, anticipating it, feeling the passion of it. He longed for the sound of broken glass. “You know what they say, uhh...” Dave began to think, then he stopped mid-swing. “Huh.. what’s that quote again..? The two minds think greatly?? Shit, I don’t know.”

He readied his swing again. “Ah, that’s it. Great minds think ali-“ He was cut off by the sound of the broken glass. The tingling sensation he got was unbearable, the jitters, the fear of getting caught, but the excitement of doing it again. The boy was destructive, he loved breaking things, he felt that he had the right to break things. He turned his head toward Mack, who had thrown the rock. He saw her throw another, and he got excited. “Oh yeah. HohohOohh yeah!” He laughed. Upon her request for Dave to smash the excess glass, he happily obliged, smacking the bat into every standing bit of it. Ah, yes, psychopathy at its finest.

He swung a bit more, just being sure to get all the glass. Can’t be too safe, right?—well, this technically wasn’t safe, but oh well—He’d ignore Milly’s cries about ‘vandalism‘ it was all in good fun, wasn’t it? He stopped for a moment, then turned to Lee, holding his bat to him. “Since you’re cool and all I ahh.. here, take it. Bust us some ‘exits’. Just in case any ‘ghosts’ come after us, yeah? But ah, try not to get glass everywhere out here, I hate glass in my shoes. Like, you don’t notice it, then BAM, sharp crunches.” The boy looked kind of crazy, his dark brown eyes wide with his smile, his hair a bit ruffed up from the action. He was having real fun. Nothing like breaking a few windows to get the night started.

I'd say I told you so but you just gonna cry
You just wanna know those peanut butter vibes

code by valen t.

 

[Taco]

code by yousmelldead

Michael pointed his finger firmly in Elizabeth's face, "I hope you like slaying dragons, Liz, because that's what we're doing when this undoubtedly turns to shit. You, me, Mills, Charles, and whoever else we can recruit."

The short hike through the woods and up the hill felt incredibly slow to Michael. Each step made him feel miles from the safety of their neighborhood and Michael's unease grew exponentially. Talking about going to Whitechapel with his friends was one thing, actually going there was something else entirely.

By the time they reached the old mansion, Michael's left fingernails were all bitten to the quick. Mack was already off to try and find a way into the manor. Her determination to always do the most troublesome things was admirable to Michael. Admirable, but stupid nonetheless. Milly addressed the rest of the group, asking questions about the stories behind Whitechapel. Soon after, Dave and Lee were off to plan their break and entry.

Michael shrugged in response to Milly. He didn't know much about the lore that surrounded Whitechapel Manor, other than the fact that it's a magnet for bad news. Of course, Lizzie knew the answer of the top of her head. She was always very knowledgeable in all things ghoulish, ghastly, and grim. Normally, it's amusing to hear her blather on about stuff like that; now, however, it's only amplifying Michael’s fear.

Once everyone was occupied with the house, Michael shuffled over to Milly and Charlie, anxiously nibbling on a Hershey’s Cookies and Cream bar. He was even more highly strung now than when they agreed to visit Whitechapel Manor. This was the last place Michael wanted to be at any given time, especially on Halloween at night. He wasn't superstitious, but if he was, he'd need a silver cross and Super Soaker full of holy water to feel even remotely safe.

Eventually, even Charlie wandered off towards the front of the house, leaving Michael and Milly on the outskirts of the property. After taking another bite of his candy bar, Michael nudged Milly slightly, "Mills, I have a bad feeling about this." He remarked before the sound of glass shattering resounded through the air. His eyes snapped towards the source, a broken window, then towards the cause, the mischievous Mackenzie Fox. Milly immediately began scolding her sister, but Michael could tell Mack wasn't listening.

Then, Charlotte beckoned him over and Michael reluctantly obliged. She was standing in front of the main entrance, which strangely didn't have a doorknob. It definitely looked like something out of his Dungeons and Dragons game, a dumb puzzle that would take his friends way longer than it should've. Michael shrugged, rubbing the nape of his neck with his free hand, "I don't know, Charles. If I had to guess, I'd say it means we shouldn't be here. Obviously, the previous owners, God bless their very dead souls, didn't want anyone coming in without clear invitation. I'd say we listen and just go," He shot a dirty look towards Mack and Dave, "But that doesn't seem to be an option anymore."​

Tags: BELIAL. Hell0NHighWater

Michael A. Gray

 

[Kirkodirk]

As everyone talked to each other like the most disorganized city council, Cal did his best to dip his toes into the conversation. The chilled wind was picking up a bit, and the jacket wasn't doing much to help. At least Milly was warm, or possibly evaporating underneath all the fake hair. As soon as Mike spoke his mind about the time crunch, Cal interjected with, "That's the max amount, though. More likely, we'll get bored before midnight and head back for movie night. I honestly can't see us exploring that house for that long."

As they walked over the rough unkempt pavement, slowly turning into the dirt, Cal could practically feel the air turning to stone with how tense some of his friends were. Even under the thick costume, he could see Milly's shoulder's scrunched up. When they finally arrived, and the whole party started talking about smashing windows. Cal was pretty sure this was illegal, but the cops would probably be too busy making sure kids aren't doing stupid crap in town to notice them having a little fun with the lonely manor. When Mack added, she wanted to be the group's pioneer as usual and be the one to slide past the broken glass and unlock the door. Why not? Cal liked a little breaking with his entering.

"Yeah, Mack. I can give a boost. Just don't get lost on your way to the door. I want to see the inside, too," he told the rebel as he crouched down under the window. He cupped his hands on his leg to make a foothold. He hefted her up with all his might, which in all honesty wasn't much. Once he'd gotten her as high as he could, and Mack was able to get herself through, Cal tried his best not to pant too hard.

While the red took its sweet time emptying from his cheeks, he looked around in a half-dazed state. Dave was admiring his handiwork with Lee, while Mike, Milly, and Charlie looked like they were trying to find a reason to leave near the fence. Hopefully, Mike was giving some words of encouragement. Cal popped his neck and made his way to the front door to wait for Mack.

 

[BELIAL.]

Charlotte Chambers
tags: Taco location: Whitechapel Manor - outside ​

Charlie pursed her lips, frowning deeply at Mike. "We're here anyway. Any curse trip wire or whatever has already been tripped. We're in this together now," Charlie chastised with a shake of her head. She continued to stare at the thing, wondering if there were any more within the house (or outside). Clearly the windows weren't barred, so it wasn't like there was any real effort on their part to break in. Maybe she was making excuses at this point, but it was mostly to combat the cognitive dissonance in her mind.

She looked over in alarm at Mack being hoisted up and in the window by Cal. She stuck the skin of her palm in her mouth, biting down in fear. "We're really doing this. We're really doing this," she muttered, looking to the others in a progressive state of worry. She tried to shake it away, to try and be a more lively participant in all of this. Calling herself a hostage, as realistic as it felt, would only sour the evening. Charlie didn't want to sour the evening. She only hoped that Mike would end up curving a bit to the same side as everyone else. Otherwise, she'd be doubting herself all night.

"You guys be careful!" Charlie called, throwing a look over her shoulder back to the street. The last thing they needed was to attract a neighbour to call the police. Everyone knew everyone in Deadwood. They'd be toast by morning.

She got a little closer to Mike, "I don't want this as much as you don't, Mike, but they're going to do some stupid stuff if we don't keep any eye on them. I know you don't wanna be here, but they're our friends. We got some responsibility in their bullcrap," she whispered, keeping her voice low, but very obviously smacking around the lock to make it look like they were just talking about the puzzle. "You know?"

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎Deadwood, Oregon
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎October 31st 1995
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Whitechapel Manor

I N † T H E † D E A D † W O O D S ​

Melissa “Milly” Fox​

Charlie's voice broke her out of a worried stupor, relieving a distressed sigh as she forced her attention away from her twin. Almost begrudgingly she followed them closer to the front door, darting antsy looks toward Mack every few seconds. Milly folded her arms over her chest, her frown deepening a bit at Michael's rather aired deduction of the symbols on the door. She squinted, leaning in a little to look at the faded carvings in the frame.

"Or maybe," Milly said slowly, turning her gaze toward the duo, "a bunch of hooligans did this to screw with people. This place has been abandoned for a gajillion years and I doubt the owners had any intention of," she pointed her finger at a crudely drawn simple, "carving a-a-a thing in the door!?"

Laughter shirked through the air just before a head popped out of the window above, "Did you say someone carved a dick in the door!?"

Clutching at her pounding heart, Milly sent her twin a murderous look, "Yes, but how--"

"Cool! I'll be right down--oh, and Cal?" Mack paused for a moment to shoot him a single finger gun, "Thanks."

Milly watched her sister disappear into the mansion with her hands on her hips and the expression of a disappointed parent. She sent Cal a glare, more than a little miffed that he had enabled her sister's degeneracy. She was contemplating on saying something, but Charlie's worried caution forced her to reconsider and avert her attention to someone else.

"Do you...get glass in your shoes a lot, Dave?" Milly asked tentatively, only catching the end of whatever conversation he was having with Lee. She tilted her head to the side a bit and smiled, "If you want, my grandfather might have some old work boots you can--"

The sound of the front door being violently kicked open scared the living daylights out of her; Milly screamed.

"Don't wet your pants, Melissa, it's just me!" Mack cackled, leaning in the open doorway with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Milly felt her face go red, her fists clenching at her side, and steam practically billowed from her ears. "YOU A-HOLE!"

Mack bit at the edge of a smile, chuckling warmly, "That's a fact we've already established, Mills." She paused for a moment, tilting her head in a familiar fashion as she addressed the rest of the group, "Well? Are you guys coming or what?"

Heaving a sigh Milly grumbled something under her breath as she edged back toward Charlie and Michael. She grabbed Charlie's hand with a bit of a forced smile, "Come on, lets just get this over with."


BELIAL. BasiliskVeranda Kirkodirk yourlocal-eboyy tamarapasek Taco

 

[tamarapasek]

Lizzie looked around excitedly. As she noticed the twins going towards the door, she follows suit trying her best not to skip. She tilted her head sideways, in hopes of getting a better look at the carvings, to no avail. There were times like these when she wished that she had been a little bit smarter.

Lizzie stifled her laugher “A hooligan Milly?”. She squinted to see just what the thing was. Though she didn’t exactly need her glasses, she wasn’t able to read super clearly without them, and she had left them at home.

Lizzie couldn’t hold it in anymore. Though she was hoping for something more spooky, wieners were pretty funny. She snickered under her breath.

Lizzie frowned, as Mack entered the mansion. She had wished that it was her that Cal had hoisted in, but she had to admit that Mack was the best person to go first.

She glanced over at Charlie with Mike, and scowled a little. She wasn’t quite sure why it bothered her that they were whispering, especially since nothing had really changed in their relationship, but it did.

She would’ve gone with or without Michael, but she kept looking over at him. At a certain point she stopped caring about Charlie, and just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t too scared, because she pressured him into it.



As she was about to turn over to glance at Michael for the 100th time, she heard a loud noise and flinched. She breathed a sigh of relief, once she realized it was just Mack.

As she stood facing the door, she once again glanced at the people around her. “Are you guys ready?” She asked trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

 

[Taco]

code by yousmelldead

Michael watched Mack and Cal with a similar disapproval to Milly. It was reckless to let Mack hop inside on her own, especially without something to protect herself with. For all they knew, the old house could be a drug den or an unofficial nuthouse, teeming with dangerous people that wouldn't hesitate to hurt a tweenage girl. The thought of Mack getting hurt made the knots in Michael's stomach that much tighter. He bit his lip before turning his attention back to Charlie and the door, waiting fretfully for Mack to reemerge.

"Well, I'm glad that your justification for committing a crime is simply, 'we've already gone too far to turn back, so fuck it.'" Michael snapped at Charlie, still trying to maintain a whisper. Immediately after the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them. It wasn't that he was upset with Charlie; no one could ever really be upset with Charlie. He was just on edge, even more so than usual. Catching a fleeting glimpse of Whitechapel Manor made Michael's blood run cold, so preparing himself to enter it was not an easy task.

Michael winced at his own harshness and quickly placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder, "I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean that, Charles. Whitechapel just scares the living hell out of me and it's messing with my brain. But I'm here, okay? I'm here for you, for Milly, and for everyone else. I'm in this for long haul," He gave her a shy but sincere smile, "And you're absolutely right, Char. We've got to keep an eye on these knuckleheads."

While he and the rest of their gang waited, Michael could've sworn he saw Lizzie looking his way a couple of times. He brushed it off as her simply being nervous or worried about him and made sure to give her a reassuring thumbs up the next time he caught her glancing at him.

Moments later, the door flew open and Michael jumped back, both in fright and to keep himself from getting hit by the door, pulling Charlie with him. He glared at Mack, shaking his head slightly, "Your showmanship is exemplary, Mack, but next time make sure no one is standing directly on the other side of the door you're kicking." He chided her, letting go of Charlie and crossing his arms.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Michael replied, although he didn't sound very convincing. He gestured towards the doorway, his eyes glancing between Milly, Charlie and Lizzy, "Ladies first."​

Tags: BELIAL. Hell0NHighWater tamarapasek

Michael A. Gray

 

[Kirkodirk]

As the gang came up to the front door like startled animals, Cal could feel the cold looks of disapproval stabbing at the back of his head. He turned back, and there they were. It looks he'd gotten from the town since the day his family arrived. The same looks from every kid in that small town. As he turned back towards the door, his face turned blank and numb, not willing to share a glimpse. "Do you guys expect me to go back on my word? We said we'd explore the house, and that's what we're doing," he said with a sternness Cal didn't completely recognize, "And the longer you guys sulk, the slower you go, the longer it's gonna take to get this over with. But y'know, to each there own."

Milly went passed him, approaching the door, and when Mack channeled her inner Bruce Lee and kicked open the door, he could feel the smile spread across his face again. He might've even stifled a laugh when Milly screamed and cursed at her sister. Cal rolled his eyes at the thousandth time Mack had gotten on Mills nerves as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Okay, you got scared, Mills. I'm sure everyone's gonna have their turn shrieking like little school girls at cobwebs and spooky shadows once we get in." Cal might've tried harder to reassure her, but he was getting excited to explore, and all the 'affectionate' looks they were throwing weren't exactly meriting much love from him. He moved passed the twins to see the inside finally.

The first thing he noticed was the walls. The deep reddish-purple with ornate designs were now faded and peeled back to reveal crumbling egg white plaster. It was a stark contrast with the splintering dark hardwood floors. Cal moved towards the grand staircase as his shoes caught and peeled off slivers of timber. "Jesus, this place has seen better days. Liz, do you happen to know how old this place is?" he asked as his eyes and mind wandered across the room like a kid with a new toy. He strode towards the stairs to feel the cold, worn railing. Two more sets of stairs diverted from their leading to what Cal could only guess was an east and west wing.

"So should we split up, to cover more ground, gang, or are we feeling a little too... 'apprehensive' for that," he challenged, putting up air quotes with his hands. He didn't want to hold anyone's hand through an old house, consoling them every time the wind moves a curtain. Maybe Mack, Liz, or Lee were up to it, but you didn't need to be a mind reader to know there rest didn't want to be here.

"If you guys feel like stopping here, no one's gonna hold it against you. Besides, there's you probably won't be missing much other than Mack kicking down more doors and Liz fangirling over everything," he gave a quick smirk to try to lighten the dark abyss that was their mood. "Thoughts?"

 

[BasiliskVeranda]

LIAM "LEE" FORESTER

𝘮 𝘢 𝘺 𝘣 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘐' 𝘷 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘢 𝘭 𝘸 𝘢 𝘺 𝘴 ⠀ 𝘣 𝘦 𝘦 𝘯...​

​

WITH: yourlocal-eboyy Hell0NHighWater Kirkodirk Taco tamarapasek BELIAL.
WHERE: Spoopy Hause
MOOD MUSIC: Radiohead - Creep
OOC: ayyyyy tryina backtrack a little and git all up in it. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

"That's vandalism!" Lee rolled his eyes at this, but not before his shit-eating grin grew to a devilish Cheshire smile. Mack was on the attack. The house would stand no chance, as apparently, Dave had incited Mack to fling rocks at the offending old box of wood, stone and glass.

"No, shit, Melissa. Yo, Davy, would you mind knocking the rest of that glass away? I think Lee might be onto something!"

"You can't seriously--"

"If someone can give me a boost, I'll climb in and unlock the front door."

"Fuck yes, Big Mac strikes again," was Lee's contribution, crooned behind cupped hands, enabling even further enablements.

Dave did what Mack had asked...they'd broken glass without much thought to it. Oh, the three of them together, with idle hands, free time, and none of them risk-averse in the slightest. Risk seeking, joy riding, demonstratively bored tweens in a small town in the middle of nowhere...how had they all not gotten into far worse trouble by now?

Dave would, indeed, be Lee's enabler. He had made likesome, piss-and-vinegar filled proclamations, then placed the offering of sameness—and probably a precious object to Dave—in Lee's idle hands.

“Since you’re cool and all I ahh.. here, take it. Bust us some ‘exits’. Just in case any ‘ghosts’ come after us, yeah? But ah, try not to get glass everywhere out here, I hate glass in my shoes. Like, you don’t notice it, then BAM, sharp crunches.” Lee's smile was criminal, and though he often didn't try to make it so, this time, he was trying. There was a fire in his eyes; Dave had only just lit the match. Or, perhaps, he'd found the already smoldering kindling and dumped lighter fluid on it. Yeah, that was more accurate.

"T-thanks man," Dave had just given this nightmare-boy a weapon of destruction, and Lee was perhaps smittenly slapped out of his 'cool' and 'aloof' stupor by such a gesture, now testing the bat's swing idly, "But if we got 'ghosts' comin' after us, the last thing I'm gonna' do is run. They'll be double-dead, for sure."

"For sure," Lee said again, wheeling the bat around, "I'll be careful 'bout the glass, though. Scout's honor."

Lee sidled the bat up and against his shoulder, like a tween road-warrior on a mission, then found himself trying to hide his awkward, rose-tinted grin.

How Dave and he hadn't been thick as thieves before this, Lee couldn't say. Maybe he'd been so busy trying to be the dad-friend, while also launching himself off of railings, lighting off bottle rockets, and vehemently telling the others they could not, under any circumstance, mimic his attempts at skateboarding off the broken cement wasteland near the sand pits...that he'd set himself too far apart.

There's danger here; so stay back, unless you want to get in trouble. But please, yes, let's get in trouble. Don't leave me, but don't come close. That sort of thing, much like a cat.

In Mack, he'd also found a bit of dangerous fun, but with Milly around he couldn't wind her up all the time. Dave, however? He didn't have a twin sister who whined about all his crazy ideas.

The brown haired boy with the borrowed bat grinned. He had forgotten about his internal promise to Charlie. Charlie had sidestepped the promise and took to fretting at the door with Mikey over something Lee would find trivial. Doors were meant to be opened.

They were also meant to keep things locked inside.

"Yeah, Mack. I can give a boost. Just don't get lost on your way to the door. I want to see the inside, too." Cal was the pully, Mack was the lever, Dave was the lighter fluid, and Lee would if given the opportunity, be the explosion. But for now, he was just the kid with the bat, waiting for Mack to kick the door down or whatever, and leaning a bit too close to Dave, as he imagined just what opportunities for destruction he'd find within these walls.

Everything in here was bound to be old, and musty, and neglected. Interesting and different, old and forgotten. No one would really care if he ruined things, would they?

Calm your shit, he'd started up, trying to piece together the unspoken promise to be 'better', but Milly's scream as Mack secured their entrance fractured his thinking.

"Don't wet your pants, Melissa, it's just me!"
"YOU A-HOLE!"
"Goddamn Milhouse, coulda' broken the glass with just your screamin'..." Lee said distantly, wincing.

"That's a fact we've already established, Mills. Well? Are you guys coming or what?"
"Hell yes," Lee replied, flicking his gaze over Mack's features for a beat. His smirk raised, to her raised question, and if she raised a brow, that too. Mirrors, the pair of them, but Milly tempered her, or at least she tried. For Lee, his responsibility to the group, that had for whatever reason adopted him, was what tempered him. But it would always be a battle.

He wasn't very good at being responsible, but he did have a strong enough will to try and glue his promises back together. He did have a strong enough will not to shoot into the house and start bashing shit because destroying things was fun. And what will did the others have?

The tween-magazine nightmare twisted and looked for the rest. His eyes set on Mike, who was wound up tighter than a rubber band, then to Charlie and the expression she was possibly giving Mike. Had he said something to her?

Lee had missed something.

He'd missed something, sitting in his own skull, and trying not to explode and let his lesser demons run amok.

Lee gave the stragglers one look, of varying shades. Charlie would've read it as a knowing-thing, an assuring-thing; I'll cover you. He would, and she didn't have to really ask. As for Mike, he got something different. A bristling-thing, then cold. Perhaps a warning, or perhaps a reluctance to admit Mike's fretting had some tooth to it. Lizzie got a knowing-thing; she always seemed to worry about others, which the part of Lee that fought tooth and nail for 'better' respected a lot.

Whatever his various looks were, Lee was good at spelling things out in body language alone. He strut after Cal, free arm now wrapped around Dave's shoulder as the swinging bat in his other hand tilted like a yawning golf club.

"Okay, you got scared, Mills. I'm sure everyone's gonna have their turn shrieking like little school girls at cobwebs and spooky shadows once we get in." Lee snorted.
"Cal shriekin' at cobwebs? Heh. Yeah, let's do this."

Silence. The group wasn't silent, but...the house was. Or perhaps, it was holding its breath. It felt silent, that was for sure. The wallpaper was peeling, everything was splintered, and the dark staircase loomed.

"So should we split up, to cover more ground, gang, or are we feeling a little too... 'apprehensive' for that," Cal half-asked, taking a responsible position. Lee broke away from Dave and began to stare at all the old, muddy, warm damask prints and crackling eggshell plaster walls.

"If you guys feel like stopping here, no one's gonna hold it against you. Besides, there's you probably won't be missing much other than Mack kicking down more doors and Liz fangirling over everything."

"Thoughts?"

"Naw, I'm all in, Cal," Lee said, hefting the bat over his shoulder, "I've gotta' make the 'ghosts' double-dead if they show up, don't I? I say we split up, make sure to use a buddy system. We don't know if the floor's gonna' give out or whatever, so as long as somebody's got somebody, we should be gravy."

With this, Lee chose his path and wouldn't be waiting much for his 'buddy' or 'buddies' to catch up. He'd be going up the stairs, and he'd be checking to make sure the floorboards wouldn't give out on the way up. Which one obviously did, but he'd been smart enough to use Dave's baseball bat to over-enthusiastically bash a few suspicious steps.

"Watch your step kids, shit's all rotted out."

...𝘮 𝘰 𝘳 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘤 𝘰 𝘮 𝘧 𝘰 𝘳 𝘵 𝘢 𝘣 𝘭 𝘦 ⠀ 𝘪 𝘯 ⠀ 𝘤 𝘩 𝘢 𝘰 𝘴​