Realistic or Modern of sins and virtues

[eclipsa]

c o m i n g - s o o n


don't look behind you.
​

 

[eclipsa]

EPISODE ONE


PILOT

no slide

GOALS // EVENTS

GOALS

Introductory posts


Funeral posts


EVENTS


Mayor's funeral // 11:00 AM

​

 

[eclipsa]

Laken Reese Abenaki

tags: none // mood: lowkey scared // outfit: x
​

Thump. Tick. Tock. Thump. Tick. Tock. Thump. Tick. Tock. Thump.


The shadow that passed over the window didn't phase the girl. She was in her closet, trying to figure out what to wear today. Normally, she already had her outfits picked. Today was different. Her father's funeral was today and it was the second funeral she'd been to in the last two months. The second time she'd been to her own parent's funeral. Technically, she had two hours. She wanted to be there early. To make sure nothing went wrong.


Laken finally found a dress and brushed her hair up into a bun. She took her time getting ready before leaving her house. She drove to the funeral home, right beside the graveyard. Her pace was probably too fast for her own safety, but she didn't care. The whole town was quiet today. In mourning. The cults weren't even making much noise currently.


After arriving she sat in her car for a few minutes. Listening. Thinking. She hadn't slept the night before, the nightmares keeping her awake. The eery silence screamed at her as she made her way from her car into the funeral home.


"Even after we drained him the markings stayed so red I didn't think we'd be able to cover them," she heard the elderly woman in charge whispering.


"Good morning Mrs. Richards." Laken spoke pointedly.


The woman blushed upon realizing the Abenaki girl had heard her. She rushed around, not looking the young woman in the eyes. "Everything's set up and ready to go, Miss Laken." She smiled lightly before leaving the room entirely.


Laken sat down in the front and stared at her father's coffin. She felt her eyes watering, but fought it. She wouldn't let this town know she was upset.

 

[philocaly]

"Ow! Fuck!" In an attempt to get to the black drawers on the other side of the so called "second floor" of her apartment, Annabeth had yet again managed to score another bump to the head from the low ceiling. As she pulled out a random singlet that was peeping out of the drawers, her free hand massaged the slight bump on her head.


"So the mayor died huh..." She muttered, smirking to herself as she stretched her lengthy arms, unsurprisingly though, her knuckles hit the too low ceiling, now very hard, but hard enough for it to hurt. Annabeth sat on her bed for a few minutes longer before climbing downstairs and walking to the bathroom.


Morning showers were always so damn refreshing for the female. It's not like she cared that someone from the apartment was going to yell at her for using up all the hot water. Hey, early bird gets the worm. She squeezed the water out of her dark hair and slipped on the black singlet she'd pulled out earlier. It matched the mood of today's event anyway. Realizing she'd forgotten to take any pants, Annabeth groaned and climbed back up the stairs in search of some bottoms.


After retrieving her item of clothing, Annabeth slung her satchel over her pale shoulder, deciding to go out for a change. Maybe take a walk along downtown and see what she could find there. It wasn't dangerous in the mornings at least.


However, before Annabeth could even walk into the street, she'd walked by Jaiden's door. Presuming that the boy was still asleep, and realizing that he'd probably need someone to wake him up, she yelled his name and kneed the door. This was a morning ritual of sorts actually. Cause if she never bothered, Jaiden would probably sleep till 12 and miss half of his day.


She stepped out into the street, and just as she did, a car drove past her at full speed, whipping her dyed her to the side of her face. Annabeth spat out the strands in her mouth and collected herself before walking towards downtown.

"JAIDEN!" The male in context stirred as the sound of a knee to his front door registered in his drowsy brain. Jaiden grumbled into his pillow and buried his face into the soft and plushy texture of it. Waking up in the morning was always a great feat for him, so thank god for neighbors who gave enough shits to bang on his door to tell him to get his arse up.


His ever evolving hair was in a tangled mess this morning. His currently dyed reddish, yellowish mess of hair falling over his face and poking him right in the eyes. "Fuuuuuuccccckkkk..." Jaiden blinked rapidly and rubbed his hands over his dark orbs, muttering curses under his breath. As he calmed the pain, the messy haired male dragged himself down the stairs, before draping himself across the two-seater sofa he had.


Jaiden coughed and closed his eyes yet again, letting sleep consume him for a few more minutes. After his short nap was over, Jaiden shuffled towards the bathroom for a morning shower, maybe it'll perk him up. You never know.


And it did. Of course it did. After Annabeth used all the hot water all that was left was the cold remains that made him shiver as it hit his skin. But it was enjoyable enough for the time being, before the water became Antarctica and forced him out of the cold bliss.


Jaiden stood in front of the mirror, contemplating what he should do with his hair. Messy or neat. Curly or straight. Should I give myself a fauxhawk. These were all questions he had to ask himself. And after a few minutes he decided that he should probably stick to being casual, but not too casual, as the Mayor's funeral was today. So just a tad bit messy, but he'd comb it. Yeah. He'd do that.


Afterwards, Jaiden jogged back upstairs, feeling a welcomed sense of energy from the cold shower. But now it was time for another struggle- Fucking getting to the drawers that held his clothes. Squeezing himself into the narrow space between the low ceiling and "second floor" well.. Floor, Jaiden pulled out a set of clothes that fairly matched today's mood. Meaning it was pretty dark. Minus the t-shirt, which was white. He was supposed to put on a hoodie on top of this, but it was like 70 degrees out, so no.


Jaiden crawled out from the narrow space and left for Downtown. He wanted to buy a book today. For someone other than himself. The person looked like they would like it, so why the fuck not.

​

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Riley Kendrick

Location: Their apartment Mood: Melancholy Interacting with: No one

​

It was always the good that went first.


Or perhaps it was the bad that were targeted first.


In the case of the recently deceased mayor, Riley was willing to give him some hope and decided that he had simply been good past the point of life, or at least life in the town they now resided in. It was tainted, they knew, from the rumors flying around of corruption, of the devil walking on two feet, of the cults and the demons that walked the very earth in flesh that they saw as their own. Riley believed none of it but they did believe that the corrupted did reside in the town. Perhaps not as demons or the devil but as the cracked and broken and dirty.


Of course, that meant Riley fit right in.


They adjusted their hat that they wore, black and wide, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun and shrugged on their coat, a furry thing that they figured would help later in the chill. A black umbrella in one hand and their cellphone tucked safely into the pocket of their pants, they stepped out from their apartment. They had planned on driving over to the area, to at least greet the recently deceased daughter, perhaps shake her hand and tell her it was alright and that they were in support of her as she struggled through the tough times. But perhaps a grieving child should be left to grieve.


Instead, they decided that they might take a brief walk outside, to see any other mourners (or at least any other actors).

 

[Lacuna]

Andrea Villani


mood: neutral | mentions: none | outfit: xxx


The bleach blonde's eye flicked open to the disruptive shouts of her neighbors. The thin walls of her apartment always provided her with a front row screening of their doomed marriage. Shaking her head and giving a good pound on the wall she exclaimed, "For f***s sake get a divorce," before she headed off the bathroom for a quick shower. Morning showers were her thing, no mater where she was, she would always make time for a shower. It gave her time to think and collect her thoughts before starting her day.


Andrea's wet feet hit the floor with with two wet plops. The cool tile sent shivers up her spine before the cold air around her could. Brushing out her tangled blonde locks the female strides over to her dresser and pulled out her typical all black outfit, but it was a little bit more appropriate today with it being the Mayors funeral. Taking one last, but long, glance in the mirror she checked over all the details of her outfit, hair and makeup. The corner of her mouth curled up into a smirk the longer she looked in the mirror. She knew she looked damn amazing.


After what seemed like ages of her staring back at her own reflection she headed off out the door of her run down apartment. She never bothered to lock her door anymore, she had nothing worth stealing and all her neighbors were to busy stealing from the rich to bother with any abode in the strip. Striding down the hall she heard bits and pieces of the conversations that crept through the cracks of doors. A drug deal here, cult talk there, and of course the ever common fight. It was all the same old same old to Andrea.


The warm air hit her like a brick wall as she stepped outside. The 70 and sunny weather put a small pep in her step as she headed toward downtown. She had a couple hours to kill before the funeral. She figured getting a cup of coffee in her system before the gather would be a good idea so she wouldn't get to crabby half way though. It didn't take very long for her to arrive at Under the Willow, it was right on the cusp of downtown and the strip. Andrea caught glances of her self walking as she passed the large spacious windows the lined the front of the store before the door. This was something she almost always did when she walked passed windows or mirrors. It gave her a sense of what others saw as she walked by.


It didn't take long for her to work her way through the line. If there were anymore people in line she might have just left due to her impatience. Once she had her coffee in hand she took up a seat in the shop, close to the window. She figured she could kill some time with a little bit of people watching.

 

[LastRomeo]

Outfit: x | Mood: Tired, neutral


Jun would never be up at this hour, not normally at least. However, he had plans, mandatory plans, and getting ready took an abnormal amount of time when it came to formal events. Who knew how long it would take him to muster up the energy to get his suit on. Sure, the said article of clothing was pretty shabby, shoved into the depths of his closet to collect dust until it was dragged out at a time like this, but at least he had one. He had brought it at the insistence of his parents, but now he had to assume that they were right about it.


He'd actually been up for an hour, his alarm set for 8 o'clock that morning, and he had taken a shower already. He had already praised himself for his quick action, and he could admit that the scalding water had definitely woken him up. However, he would prove that actually fulfilling all of the actions required to say that you're ready was a much more tedious task. This process was still shown as he had been sitting on his bed for nearly 20 minutes, his clothes peeking out at him from his closet. He sighed, shoulders slumping. What would it cost him to sleep for another hour?


He fell back onto his bed, feeling a little defeated. He could probably wait. The funeral wasn't for another 3 hours, if he remembered correctly. There was really no use in sitting around in a suit in his room for more than 15 minutes, so he had plenty of time, really. The warm aura of his bed sure was tempting, but he sat up again. His blinds were pulled up, and sunlight poured into the room more than it usually did, turning what would usually be his dark little paradise into a bright reminder of his responsibilities that came with going outside.


He thought a little bit before deciding that he needed coffee. He had ran out of those little things of coffee that he could put into the machine in his kitchen, whatever they were called, so it seemed like he'd have to go outside and face the music that was a grieving town. The walk to his destination was short, as was the wait in line. After a short while, he was able to nearly sink into his chair and close his eyes while waiting for his drink to cool.

Outfit: x | Mood: Mildly pleasant


From the way she had been woken up, Laila could assume that she had slept through her alarm. Her mother hovered over her with a stern look in her eye. A glance over at her alarm clock, which had apparently not gone off, told her that it was nine in the morning. She was supposed to get up and prepare to head to the store quickly before the funeral a half an hour ago. She sat up, pushing her blankets off of herself halfway. At this motion, her mother turned to leave, seeing that her Laila had woken up properly. The two exchanged small morning greetings before the other's departure from the small room.


From there, it really just came down to normal morning routine. After she had showered and gotten dressed, she found herself sitting in front of the television, eating cereal. Her mother was still getting ready, so she assumed she would have the time to eat some breakfast before the older woman rushed the both of them to the store. The television was off, as Laila had no care to see what would be on the news, nor did she care for any of the other shows that would be on at the time. The lack of activity made her house eerily silent, at least, it was until her mother came downstairs.


"Come on! We were supposed to be there 15 minutes ago, we need to hurry." Her mother pressed her to rush the next few mouthfuls of Cheerios and quickly dump whatever was left over into the sink. Her, as patient as she usually was, hated being anything less than punctual for work. Besides, the day would be depressing enough as it was, so she preferred to not anger her mother today. Her mother snatched the keys from the hook they were hung from, and the two of them piled into their car. Her mother went at what she considered a dangerously fast speed in the direction of the flower shop. She checked the time, and soon realized that her mother had been exaggerating. It was barely after the time they usually arrived, but her mother loved to be early.


When they arrived, her mother took her usual place while she drifted over to the flowers. She figured that it would be respectful to bring some to the funeral, so she had decided to pick some out before they left for the event.

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Juliet Mizone

Location: Streets of Downtown Mood: Slightly unsettled Interacting with: Andrea Villani (briefly) (@Oasis)

​

The thing that woke Juliet up first was the sound of other people moving about, their feet hitting the side of the road and cars starting on the street. She shook herself awake, slowly unfurling herself from the position she had fallen asleep in on the backseat of her car, the one she had been damned enough to take and get stuck in the town of who-the-fuck-knew-where. Her feet swung down from their position and she rubbed her forehead, blinking the drowsiness and the incoming headache away as best as she could. She stretched her arms out, her knuckles brushing against the roof of the car and the sides, the living space far too small.


After another moment of gathering herself together, Juliet picked up the remnants of her supposed dinner from the ground and opened the door, putting a hand over her eyes as the sun glared straight down at her. She reached back into the vehicle, searching for the keys and finally managed to find them, stuffing them into her pocket and finally slamming the door shut as she found a nearby trashcan to throw her late-night garbage into, the glass bottles clinking together almost silently. Juliet pulled down her dark tanktop slightly more, wiping at a stain that had managed to form on it, and set off to find some sort of explanation as to why the city suddenly seemed so alive.


It appeared that everyone was wearing darker colors as well and glancing down at herself, Juliet almost fit in. Almost.


Her left knee was peeking out from the torn fabric of her jeans and there were various dark patches on both sets of clothing. She was sure she looked like a broke teenager but no one ever questioned it so she never brought it up. After all, a single question could lead to many more that Juliet was terribly unwilling to answer and so her mouth stayed shut.


The smell of food reminded her that it had been a while since there had been a proper meal in her stomach and for a second, she looked to her left and considered walking into the place, her hand finding a single wrinkly dollar in her pocket.


She glanced up further and noticed the sign and decided fuck no, her feet moving once more past the shop. Under the Willow was a place that was always overly crowded and the man that ran it always made Juliet feel like what she really was: a broke teenager that was too far from home and the future to really go anywhere.


As she passed by, however, she noticed a semi-familiar face. She'd see it around before, talked with it once or twice, waved at it more often than not. They'd shared a few eyerolls over the stupidity of the town and the strange inhabitants. While Juliet wouldn't call them friends or even companions, she would say that the other woman's presence was not wholly unwelcomed.


Lifting up a single hand just slightly, she gave Andrea Villani a sharp wave with it, pausing for just a beat outside the window she was watching from.

 

[boyguro]

Amen.


Once having finished her usual morning prayers (though in retrospect Neo was not quite sure what she was praying for, nor who she was praying to or if she even believed in the entirety of praying in the first place) the fragile and perhaps even almost doll-like girl wiped off the floor dust from her knees and drew open her translucent white curtains to reveal the sunny Suburbia streets. Oh how innocent and mundane they looked in the morning sunlight accompanied by birds chirping and a mild breeze twisting and turning between the trees, only to be stripped of any sort of purity once the sun set, the mere thought of it sent chills down her spine. However Suburbia was looking particularly harmless that day, a few neighbors were fetching their mail, watering their grass, some had even gone out for a walk with their pets.


Neo wondered how the world could look so happy on such a sad day, sad because of the mayor's funeral of course. Yes, perhaps Neo hadn't personally known him nor had much interest in doing so, but death was a sad thing regardless of whom it trapped, not to mention that he was Lakens father. Seeing her hurt, hurt Neo's heart. Oh how much Neo wished she could comfort her friend, she longed to be able to say or do something, anything to make her feel better, but she'd never been very good with words, nor comforting others, all she could do was sit and pout and cry. How pathetic. Her grandma had reassured her that his soul was with the angels now, and that he was in a "better place". Neo had always hated it when adults said that, why must the afterlife be the better place? Why couldn't both life and that what comes after be both just as satisfying? These things made Neo question her faith, or better put, the faith her grandmother had enforced upon her.


"Finish your prayers, darling?" a sweet, but cracked voice from her doorway startled Neo. Spinning on her heels, Neo smiled tightly and nodded, swiftly moving over to her closet to pull out the clothes her grandmother had arranged for the funeral. Black flats matched with a hair ribbon, knee length black dress reaching past the fingertips, half-sleeves with a high cut as not to show too much skin, as that of course was unacceptable of a young, modest lady as Isabella had said. You don't want to look like a slut, do you?


Somedays Neo didn't like her grandmother very much.


"Well, you better hurry up! We're leaving in two minutes."


"But you said I could go with Oscar and Hugo."


"Oh sweetie, please. You weren't being serious, were you? Those boys are nothing short of a nuisance. Now get dressed."


Today was one of those days.

Abiding by what her grandmother demanded, as she always did, Neo quickly changed into her clothes, brushed her hair and stepped out the front door in a matter of seconds without putting any thought into it. One couldn't say that she didn't care about how she looked, rather she didn't think her appearance held as much importance as the end of the life of another person. There was no point in dressing up anyway, Neo had never been considered a pretty girl and she had the feeling that wouldn't be changing anytime soon. Not once in 21 years had she been complimented on her looks, why start trying now?


Neo slipped into her grandmothers car as they pulled out of the driveway, after which Isabella popped in a classical music CD. "What do you say we stop at the Willow for breakfast?" Isabella asked, her eyes glued to the road, not even glancing at her granddaughter.


Fiddling with her thumbs, Neo leaned her head on her cheek and pressed her nose against the car window. "Yeah. That sounds nice."

i n f o

LOCATION: Home -> Under the Willow


MOOD: Melancholic


OUTFIT: x

t a g s

CAST: N/A


NPC's: Isabella Blagg

 

[Unrlstic]

@Eunoia

Anyone who knew Annalia, knew that she loved events. The makeup, the dressing up, the pictures. It was as If she was born to go to places that required a lot of communication, but this was different. That morning, her and her sister Veronica woke up early. Even her mother, who usually woke up around 1 or 2pm after a long night of drinking, woke up merely at 7:40am that morning.


Annalia hadn't even bothered on spending over two hours on getting ready like she always did. Instead, she took a quick shower, applied on a light touch of makeup, skipped breakfast and met Veronica in the car. The streets appeared calm and peaceful, but even passing by cars and people on the streets, there was a dreadful tension that sent odd vibes all around.


It seemed as if the whole town was mourning. Maybe it was the natural setting of Barcello, and how restful and quiet the place was by nature. At least, that was what the young singer had drilled into her head. Along with nearly everyone else, Annalia couldn't bring herself to believe the story of the Mayor's tragic death. She'd known him only for about two weeks or so, due to her and her sister Veronica, spending a lot of time with Laken to help them set up the Grace&Peace campaign for the poor and homeless.


What had stunned Annalia wasn't the fact that he died, but how he died. She remembered reading the gruesome details and hearing gossip around town about Mr. Abenaki's last shocking moments. It soon had her thinking a lot about Laken and her own father. Though, Annalia at times wished her own father was dead, she felt heavily sympathetic for the girl. Laken was an angel, and no one deserved to suffer through the outcomes of death. Well, at least not everyone.


Silence had been roaming the car since the moment her and sister got inside. The only noise hat was able to be heard was Veronica's constant tapping on the wheel. Considering how talkative both sisters were, it felt awkward that niether of them had said a word. Thankfully, catching her attention had been a mini flower shop that Veronica had passed by. Finally, turning to her sister, Annalia said lightly, "Hey, drop me off at that flower shop back there. I want to get something for Laken." With an irritated sigh, Veronica stared at Annalia with her icy blue eyes. The one thing her sister hated more than thick eyeliner was being late, but reluctantly she turned the car around and drove to Barbara's Big Bouquet.


----


Since the tragedy, Annalia hadn't niether texted nor called Laken. She wanted too, but for once in her life, was speechless. There would've been nothing to say to show her apathy for the incident. A mainstream apology sure hell wouldn't cut it. The least she could do would be to bring Laken something. Maybe a little gift to show her condolences without actually using words. Annalia sure hell felt better when people gave her gifts. But, even as she stood in a room between dozens of beautifully arranged tulips, none of them looked worthy enough to express how truly sorry she was for her Laken's loss.