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satan in the suburbs

boyguro

Заводной апельсин
#1

code by sadvalentine


are you ready for judgement day?

THE STORY
A cloud of warm spring mist rolls over the grassy hills of a small redneck town by the name of Graymoor in Mississippi, practically a ghost town occupied by only the most close-minded and superstitious Bible huggers of the South. This town doesn't grow on you, it grows inside you, in your soft warm belly filled with the lukewarm tapwaterfrom your kitchen sink and mediocre grilled burger patties from your local BBQ inn run by an old man with only six teeth and a rifle perched on his doorstep, like an old oak tree in the cemetery everyone claims to be haunted and even though you don't believe it, you avoid stepping on the graves, clutching your guts with its roots.

"HELL IS REAL". Down every dusty road, through every field, the dirty, beaten-down signs stand tall in the murkish sky, all praising to the same God. "Hell is real," repeats your mother at dinner after finishing her prayers, slicing down into the chicken on the table with same knife you saw her using to chop it's live head off that very morning. "Hell is real," repeats your geography teacher who only ever really talks about the Civil War and can't name a single democratic state without pursing their lips and blaming the Devil.

He's everywhere, him. The Devil. In your mailbox, on your bedside mirror, in the cornfields there seems to be no escape from, forever growing and ever since that Halloween you fell in and couldn't find your way out you promised to yourself never to go in them again, not because you got lost but because you could've sworn something grabbed your hand.

For a town so holy, an unusual wave of demonic occurrences have started to take over, and there are even more yet to come.

Not everybody in Graymoor is a saint. A common practice in humanity, the people are quick to blame and point their finger at the nearest troublemaker. An evil entity begins to manifest in the Church and people of Graymoor, persuading them unto a macabre passage, the characters must put aside their differences as an unknown source of paranormal force awakens inside them.

Hell is real. So who's side are you on?

WELCOME TO AMERICA'S HEARTLAND ; GRAYMOOR

THE SETTING
To anyone who passes by, Graymoor, with a population of less than 900, is deserted, which to the inhabitants, unwelcoming and sketpical of outsiders, is nothing but pleasant, yet those who do come, never stay. They hit an animal while driving home from their first night. They only see it for a split second, a flash of brown-gray-white that’s not recognizable as any animal they're familiar with. They pull over and find that the impact has ripped off the tire wells, roughed up the bottom of the car, and left the front bumper hanging halfway off.

There's a dollar store across from their trailer. Its lights are always on but there's nobody inside. There's something strange about the gas station passing the fields selling sodas for 92 cents. The lights are dim yet the sign glows on the outside, there is no music playing through the speakers though they're sure they heard some during the daytime. The entire place is empty. They're sure the cashier greeted them on the way in.

Dusty barns with half-rotted roofs and vines creeping up the side, JESUS SAVES in peeling paint. Flowers grow through the foundations and over rusted tools. Clumps of forest in the middle of seas of corn. The woods are dark. You never go anywhere without a flashlight. Crosses made out of toothpicks and matches. Your aunt leaves them under your pillow, and you keep finding them in the fields. Everybody knows someone who drowned. Everyone's got a weird cousin that disappeared and never came back, nobody knows what happened but they never speak of the lake. Nobody speaks. Everything is a secret. The local library has two computers both from before 2005. Nobody watches TV. Church is not an option. Growing up, odds are teachers know who your older siblings are, everyones parents own a local business in town, you get pulled over and it's either your parents friend, or neighbor from down the street, or your friends parents.

You either fit in, or you don't. You don't want to stick around to find out which one you are.


 
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boyguro

Заводной апельсин
#2

EPISODE ONE ;
WE BURY OUR FEELINGS AND OUR RELATIVES ALIVE




DATE: July 19th, 2018, 12:30 PM
LOCATION: Graymoor, Mississippi
WEATHER: Sunny & warm with a few clouds in the sky

PLOT
As the hot, yolk-yellow sun glowing in the baby blue summer sky scorches down on our holy little town of Graymoor, its faithful folk stumble to squeeze in to the overflowing church pews on a warm Wednesday afternoon. They eventually settle down, straighten their shirts and their skirts and tune in their ears to listen to the Pastor, his Bible laid out on the pedestal in front of him. He begins to speak, citing spiritual passages and preaching to his people before asking for a moment of silence and the quiet eases into the atmosphere. A sudden gust of wind bangs onto the walls of the church, the wooden floor boards shaking- suddenly, the front doors burst open.

Everybody's heads turn as a dead girl walks into church.

Two years ago, fourteen-year old Caroline Rodney was found dead in the outskirts of the woods, turned face-down and completely blue in a lake. It was a demon, they say. But could it have been a demon that brought her back?


OBJECTIVES & GUIDELINES:

† The RP will start the day after Caroline Rodney winds up alive, having been presumed dead for two years. Classes have been called off early (12:30 PM) in order to hold an obligatory town meeting inside the church concerning dark necromancy and witchcraft that is suspected to be what resurrected Caroline from the dead.
† Since we have so many characters, I have split them up in different groups that will be arriving at the church together. This is so that we can start character interaction early in the roleplay and get the action snowballing.
† Group 1: Cordelia, Hailey, Lili and Charmeine
† Group 2: Victor, Bowen and Benji
† Group 3: Sydney, Seamus, Summer, Jocelyn and Louis
† Group 4: Aselhomme, Tate, July, Juniper, Wesley, Laurel
† The groups will be arriving at the same time. Create some tension. Throw some hands. Make this RP interesting.
† Your opening post should start at Point A (in the fields on the way to the church) and end in Point B (inside the church). How you get here is irrelevant as long as you do this with your group members.

† Your first objective is to interact with two or more members of your group.
† Your second objective is to interact with one or more members of another group.
† Your last objective is to make it inside and sitting in the church. Further information will be updated once all objectives have been met. These can spawn over several posts and obviously don't have to be achieved all at once.

The opening will be less about the plot and more about getting to know the characters and their relations to one another and the general vibe, so make sure you set it correctly. What happens next is in your hands.

Good luck.

TAGS: @xxxtentacion @macrombie @witchery @celloize @crossofjesus @pink tourmaline @sinbin @soggychips @zeroinspo


code by pasta
 
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boyguro

Заводной апельсин
#3
base code by sadvalentine | Animent

♱ cordelia sawyer.

THE BASILISK.
LOCATION the fields MOOD apathetic
TAGS @witchery @xxxtentacion @macrombie @soggychips @sinbin
From a distance in the fields, a group of young, fair-skinned girls could be seen strolling through the path with their school bags hanging on their backs and Bibles tucked under their arms, heading towards the Church while a summer breeze sauntered through the warm air. If one were to look closer, one would see that though it seemed there were three girls, one with striking red hair in the middle and two blondes either side, there were in fact four, with another blonde treading slightly off-side from them. The sight almost gave off the impression that the fourth girl didn't belong, or was forcing herself to tag alongside them. However any Graymoor citizen would know that if you were accepted by the reputable folk, you had an implicit bubble of protection over you, and anyone would be foolish to decline it.

Some called it respected by association, others called it privilege. And the latter wasn't wrong.

Although the girl clique didn't have a name per say, there was an unspoken school hierarchy in Graymoor, and the thin, white, Christian girls were most certainly at the top of it. Perhaps it was thanks to the ginger Ren Sawyer's father and his influence on the town, or her curly haired friend Charmeine Dev's mother and her position at South Area Graymoor Education, or even their soft-spoken fairy Lili Godfrey's respectable family. Hailey Price was another story, and to be so beautifully honest, had no real reason for her to be in the group in the first place, aside from the fact that she had a pretty face and a mutual love for God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

Ironically enough, the group's religious aura did nothing to hinder them from trash-talking those who didn't share the same passion. Or who weren't their idea of perfect.

"Price, are you even listening to me?" Ren snapped at her friend who was zoning off and staring forwards as they walked the path. Hailey blinked rapidly and turned her gaze to face her.

"Yeah, of course, sorry," she replied half-heartedly, to which Ren scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and picking up the pace purposefully.

"As I was saying," she began speaking, "It's obviously Dark Magic. I promise you it was one of those dirty sinners that summoned a demon here, that Sydney and his weak-kneed brother. Or maybe that deaf kid, who knows what's going on in that malfunctioned head of his, hah. Their fates will eventually catch up with them. They'll see," she rambled on to which Lili and Charmeine both somewhat nodded in agreement before Lili chimed in with a shy voice.

"I hope Caroline is okay."

"She just came back from the grave. I'm sure she's doing real peachy," Charmeine responded.

Ren began shaking her head in disgust. "Whatever that thing is that showed up to our holy church yesterday, was not Caroline. It should be exorcised and burned at the stake immediately, and I would happily do it myself." Ren's strong and even crude remarks never failed to cast a bout of silence among her peers. One could never be sure when she was simply bluffing, and when she was being honest. Though sometimes, one would wonder if she ever bluffed at all. The eerie quietness was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of a rifle going off nearby, startling the girls and causing them to look off to their left, spotting two unusually tall figures with buzzcuts hurridely running away in the same direction to the Church.

The twins, Ren thought to herself. Disgrace.

"What did I tell you? Sinners. Always causing some kind of disturbance," she spat, loud enough for the entire farmstead to hear her. It was almost impressive the amount of hatred that could roll off her tongue. Perhaps even more impressive what she was willing to do with that hate, and to what extent she would take it.




From a distance in the fields, a group of young, fair-skinned girls could be seen strolling through the path with their school bags hanging on their backs and Bibles tucked under their arms, heading towards the Church while a summer breeze sauntered through the warm air. If one were to look closer, one would see that though it seemed there were three girls, one with striking red hair in the middle and two blondes either side, there were in fact four, with another blonde treading slightly off-side from them. The sight almost gave off the impression that the fourth girl didn't belong, or was forcing herself to tag alongside them. However any Graymoor citizen would know that if you were accepted by the reputable folk, you had an implicit bubble of protection over you, and anyone would be foolish to decline it.

Some called it respected by association, others called it privilege. And the latter wasn't wrong.

Although the girl clique didn't have a name per say, there was an unspoken school hierarchy in Graymoor, and the thin, white, Christian girls were most certainly at the top of it. Perhaps it was thanks to the ginger Ren Sawyer's father and his influence on the town, or her curly haired friend Charmeine Dev's mother and her position at South Area Graymoor Education, or even their soft-spoken fairy Lili Godfrey's respectable family. Hailey Price was another story, and to be so beautifully honest, had no real reason for her to be in the group in the first place, aside from the fact that she had a pretty face and a mutual love for God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

Ironically enough, the group's religious aura did nothing to hinder them from trash-talking those who didn't share the same passion. Or who weren't their idea of perfect.

"Price, are you even listening to me?" Ren snapped at her friend who was zoning off and staring forwards as they walked the path. Hailey blinked rapidly and turned her gaze to face her.

"Yeah, of course, sorry," she replied half-heartedly, to which Ren scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and picking up the pace purposefully.

"As I was saying," she began speaking, "It's obviously Dark Magic. I promise you it was one of those dirty sinners that summoned a demon here, that Sydney and his weak-kneed brother. Or maybe that deaf kid, who knows what's going on in that malfunctioned head of his, hah. Their fates will eventually catch up with them. They'll see," she rambled on to which Lili and Charmeine both somewhat nodded in agreement before Lili chimed in with a shy voice.

"I hope Caroline is okay."

"She just came back from the grave. I'm sure she's doing real peachy," Charmeine responded.

Ren began shaking her head in disgust. "Whatever that thing is that showed up to our holy church yesterday, was not Caroline. It should be exorcised and burned at the stake immediately, and I would happily do it myself." Ren's strong and even crude remarks never failed to cast a bout of silence among her peers. One could never be sure when she was simply bluffing, and when she was being honest. Though sometimes, one would wonder if she ever bluffed at all. The eerie quietness was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of a rifle going off nearby, startling the girls and causing them to look off to their left, spotting two unusually tall figures with buzzcuts hurridely running away in the same direction to the Church.

The twins, Ren thought to herself. Disgrace.

"What did I tell you? Sinners. Always causing some kind of disturbance," she spat, loud enough for the entire farmstead to hear her. It was almost impressive the amount of hatred that could roll off her tongue. Perhaps even more impressive what she was willing to do with that hate, and to what extent she would take it.
 
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witchery

— sincerity is scary.
#4
lili godfrey - archangel ramiel.
Since the beginning of kindergarten, when they first met in the sandbox at morning tea, Lili has never left Ren's side. The young blonde, with the the looks and strength of a toddler, wouldn't deny a friendship. Any friendship was a good friendship in her books, that only meant she could have more options with people to play with; at least, that's what she wanted to do. Before Lili could even blink, she had found herself in a group of privileged white girls who all shared the same passion for their Lord and Saviour.

With her pink schoolbag hanging off her shoulder, her sticker-covered Bible hugged closely to her chest and her golden locks tied neatly in a ponytail brushing behind her back, Lili strolled next to Ren's right side like she always had since kindergarten with a sympathetic look etched on her face. Her gaze was focused on the group's walking pattern, watching carefully as their feet walked in time while Ren's voice echoed in Lili's ears. The female's gaze flickered away from the shoes and towards Hailey, who clearly wasn't listening to Ren's gossip. Lili only give Hailey an uneasy smile as she watched Hailey reply before quickening her pace to catch up with the rest of the group.

"I hope Caroline is okay." Lili piped up, her voice soft and sickly sweet as she added a quick shrug.

Yet when Lili heard Charmaine's sharp reply, her sympathetic expression didn't falter. Lili's pace stop to a halt when she heard a gunshot echo through the air, frightening the blonde and causing her to breath to hitch. Lili was about as fragile as a porcelain doll, one wrong move and she could break into a million shards.

"What did I tell you? Sinners. Always causing some kind of disturbance,"

Lili turned turned her back towards the figures and sighed, "Agreed."

with - ren, charmaine + hailey / tags - @xxxtentacion @macrombie / outfit - angel
 

celloize

gay confusion
#5
louis shepherd
-
archangel michael


The sun was out, the day was clear, and the tall grass lining the acres across Graymoor flowed in the wind.

Yet this peaceful facade didn't cover up the chilling atmosphere caused by recent events.

Instead, it had Louis feeling uneasy. The usual calming waves of grass were always a favorite for the boy, yet today all he could think of was death and punishment and Satan is trying to corrupt the church-

Louis blinked his eyes open and stared ahead at the open field. A few hundred feet away, the church stood high above everything else with it's chipped white paint and rusty bell. It painted a stark contrast to the brown grass surrounding it for miles, and Louis gripped his new bible a bit tighter as he shook himself from his daze and began his short trek towards the building. He knew that this gathering was going to be tense. The English teacher was ranting about the devil all morning, and the moment they were released from school, Louis quickly stood up and left to head towards the church- it was best to get there early and help his father prepare for the meeting.

Louis could already see his father in there. Raging, quoting scripture from Revelations, arguing with the sheriff and telling everyone that there are people here who want to go against God's will. That they should be punished.

Even all righteous Louis couldn't help but shudder at the inevitable breakout that would happen. He just didn't expect it to be happening over a dead girl coming back to life.

The young man released a long sigh and shifted his brown bag, glancing over his shoulder in order to spot all the other students making their way towards the church. Everyone departed from the school and immediately fell into their cliques. The first group he noticed was Ren and her followers making their way across the grass. The ginger's voice drawled on loudly and at that moment Louis was glad that he wasn't strolling along with her and causing a scene.

However, at Ren's mention of the twins, Louis turned his head back around and watched as the aforementioned pair quickly made their way towards the church in his direction just as the sound of a rifle shot off in the distance. The gunshot caused him to slightly jump and shudder, but Louis shook it off and frowned as he slowed down his pace. He was hesitant to interact with them- the twins were already on the watchlist concerning these strange events, and Louis would downright refuse to be associated with the work of the devil. So, instead of confronting the two, he simply let it be and let the twins do what they so desired. If they did have something to do with Caroline, well, then that something the church and God would deal with.

Louis stuffed his Bible under his arm and shoved his hands in his pockets of his jacket. The fields were quiet once more when Ren eventually lowered her voice, and Louis was able to clear his thoughts and level his head until he heard a short laugh come from behind him. The Pastor's boy clenched his jaw and glance over his shoulder a second time.

Summer and Jocelyn. The two were side by side, taking their time towards the church with books in hand and relaxed expressions on their faces.

As Louis turned his head, Jocelyn looked up and shot him a slight glare. The young man furrowed his eyebrows and turned back to face the church. Some days Louis and Jocelyn would leave each other alone. Others, they would be at each others throats bantering and defending their own worldview. Jocelyn always got under Louis's skin, and he didn't think that would change any time soon. Summer, on the other hand, was at least tolerable. They never really spoke to each other, obviously Louis disagreed with her preference, but there would still be times where she defended Jocelyn during their heated arguments.

However, right now, it seemed that the current situation left none of them with a desire to fall into another argument. So, with a deep breath, Louis carefully slowed his steps again and turned so that he was walking backwards and facing the two girls.

"Do you think the person who stumbled into our church was actually Caroline?" Louis asked with a hint of heedlessness as he took his hands out of his pockets, "or is this like what happened in the book of Mark- you know, the whole demon possession thing. I'm just curious as to what you two think, since everyone seems to have their own theories, you know."
coding by cychotic
 
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#6
Name:: Charmeine Dev, Archdemon Mephiestopheles; Location:: Fields near church; Interacting:: Group 1; Outfit:: x
Charmeine walked behind Cordelia with a sort of moderated pace, her footsteps walking just behind, almost in sync. Her blue flats hit the grass and dirt with every step and she wanted to cringe at that fact, due to how the shoes were new and she didn't want to be scolded for ruining them so quickly. With trepidation the girl kept walking behind the quote unquote leader of the group, the mayor's daughter herself.

"As I was saying," Cordelia began speaking, (just as Charmeine actually began listening and not just picking nearly dead dandelions and grass) "It's obviously Dark Magic. I promise you it was one of those dirty sinners that summoned a demon here, that Sydney and his weak-kneed brother. Or maybe that deaf kid, who knows what's going on in that malfunctioned head of his, hah. Their fates will eventually catch up with them. They'll see,"

At that moment Charmeine tried to garner some bravery to say something, such a simple thing it was but as the tried to think of something to say, the arguably most beautiful member of their group (inside and out, of course) popped up and uttered a "I hope Caroline is okay.".

Lili Godfrey was a sweet child, Charmeine supposed in her head, but a part of her couldn't help but sigh at how simple the other girl's life seemed to be. It was much the same for the fourth member of the group, Hailey Price, who seemed to follow along no better than Charmeine herself.

"She just came back from the grave. I'm sure she's doing real peachy," The blue clad girl almost spat, nearly wincing after realizing how rude she sounded. She then grasped her bag very tight and let out a quiet sigh, which hopefully know one heard.

"Whatever that thing is that showed up to our holy church yesterday, was not Caroline. It should be exorcised and burned at the stake immediately, and I would happily do it myself." The leader of the group shook her head, and the look of disdain on her face was hard to miss even if you didn't see her face, because the sheer tone was more than annoyingly enough.

It was at that moment she heard a loud blast of somekind (which she couldn't really identify, but it sounded quite frightening). Her head snapped in the general direction of the sound and then her eyes saw a pair of twins running by. Of course she knew who both were, because who didn't? And that prompted her to want to say something again but this time the curly haired blonde refrained from even trying. What was even the point now?

"What did I tell you? Sinners. Always causing some kind of disturbance," Ren almost yelled across the fields (although it almost sounded more like a screech) and Lili, ever the quiet gray mouse continued after her, "Agreed.".

Meanwhile Charmeine couldn't help but add, " ...Say, what was that noise?". Her eyes kept wondering off into the place where it came from and she wondered if she would even be able to see anything from here. Perhaps if she just searched hard enough.

'... i will confess to release myself from consequence, and everyone can tell...'
 
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#7
juniper belle - cherubim

mentions:
@sinbin

Darren had been holding Juniper's hand tightly as they walked through the yellow fields of dead grass. Juniper was debating on whether he did this because he wanted to protect her, or if he wanted to intimidate her. Though she didn't understand why, as he knew that Juniper flinched every time he would move a muscle. She figured it was a romantic thing, which to that she smiled softly, running her thumb over his.

The event that had happened the day before felt like a blur to Juniper. So, she felt like that, when anyone would mention what happened, it was like telling a story to her. She felt as though she hadn't been in the church that sticky afternoon, where a dead girl had emerged - late to church. Though that part didn't matter much to anyone she'd spoken to, or at least it didn't matter to Darren. She hadn't spoken to anyone since the incident, in fact. Though she was hoping she could speak to Wes about it, which, judging by the cigarette packet, was bound to happen sooner or later.

As she walked, she couldn't help but be distracted by the townspeople walking in small groups or walking with their family. Some faces she'd recognised from her last period at school that day, some she recognised around school. All were walking to the direction of the white, stuffy church. "Was it truly Caroline?" Juniper asked her boyfriend, he simply sighs, shaking his head. "Shit if I know, but I thought when you raised from the dead you'd have some more guts on ya'."
/coded by allure/


mentions:
@sinbin

Darren had been holding Juniper's hand tightly as they walked through the yellow fields of dead grass. Juniper was debating on whether he did this because he wanted to protect her, or if he wanted to intimidate her. Though she didn't understand why, as he knew that Juniper flinched every time he would move a muscle. She figured it was a romantic thing, which to that she smiled softly, running her thumb over his.

The event that had happened the day before felt like a blur to Juniper. So, she felt like that, when anyone would mention what happened, it was like telling a story to her. She felt as though she hadn't been in the church that sticky afternoon, where a dead girl had emerged - late to church. Though that part didn't matter much to anyone she'd spoken to, or at least it didn't matter to Darren. She hadn't spoken to anyone since the incident, in fact. Though she was hoping she could speak to Wes about it, which, judging by the cigarette packet, was bound to happen sooner or later.

As she walked, she couldn't help but be distracted by the townspeople walking in small groups or walking with their family. Some faces she'd recognised from her last period at school that day, some she recognised around school. All were walking to the direction of the white, stuffy church. "Was it truly Caroline?" Juniper asked her boyfriend, he simply sighs, shaking his head. "Shit if I know, but I thought when you raised from the dead you'd have some more guts on ya'."
 

sinbin

gothboy clique™
#8
mood: wary
location: the fields




There are only three things in this world that could lure Wes into a church; a miracle, hard proof of divinity or total anarchy. Caroline Rodney's homecoming has been all three.

He hadn't been at church that day, or most, but the gossip has invaded his quiet corner of life. It breached the library first, flooding through as a wave of panicked suburban mothers who pried for volumes on witchcraft and spoke too hurriedly for him to read. Each had a different story to spin— the girl's eyes were 'pure whites', she hadn't aged a day. 'She was levitating' or 'my bible began to smolder!'. Discrepancies aside, all tales shared the same ending. 'It' was definitely Caroline Rodney and it was definitely witchcraft.

School was next. It shut down early today, but it never really started to begin with. Classes had cracked into cliques and anyone outside your circle could be a Satan-hailing-necromancer. The Populars huddled around a single desk, smiling-ever-so-politely with the very same lips they use to spill toxic rumors. The Outcasts slip notes under tables, Bullies shakedown anyone who dare meet their unwavering, synchronized leer. Even the teachers dealt in hearsay during lunch breaks while Wes, as always, remained outside of the drama.

Once he'd found comfort in that. Now it just made him a target.

↠ ↠ ↠

That considered, Wes dawdles behind on the walk to Church. One hand hides in his pocket while the other hugs a bible, tucking it protectively against his side. You wouldn't notice it's a copy of The Hobbit unless you got close━ he'd probably be reading up on witchcraft if there was anything left of it among the barren library shelves.

He stares but there's no vagueness in his eyes. He's looking for someone. He's looking for Juni, though a petite girl with shoulder length umber hair could be anyone in this crowd. With a squint, Wes can distinguish the forms of a few. Cordelia and her pack march in their practiced formation, the Winslow twins bound through the plains and the Pastor's son falls in stride with the underdog duo. It almost feels normal.

Tranquility is short lived. Everyone abruptly flinches, jumps or jolts in synchrony. Wes throws an instinctive glance past his shoulder, frowning to find exactly what he had expected; nothing. Perhaps it was the school siren? No, they're not looking in that direction. Nobody would have recoiled like that at a familiar sound. Wes knows only one noise that can illicit that reaction, he's seen deer behave the same when his brothers took him hunting.

He needs to find Juni, he decides.

Heads turn, curious gazes roving through the field. Wes finds sudden interest in the horizon and pretends to be oblivious. He's just a halfwit going about his business, don't mind him.

mentions: @crossofjesus

WESLEY SUTTER, transcendent angel
code // just-peachy


There are only three things in this world that could lure Wes into a church; a miracle, hard proof of divinity or total anarchy. Caroline Rodney's homecoming has been all three.

He hadn't been at church that day, or most, but the gossip has invaded his quiet corner of life. It breached the library first, flooding through as a wave of panicked suburban mothers who pried for volumes on witchcraft and spoke too hurriedly for him to read. Each had a different story to spin— the girl's eyes were 'pure whites', she hadn't aged a day. 'She was levitating' or 'my bible began to smolder!'. Discrepancies aside, all tales shared the same ending. 'It' was definitely Caroline Rodney and it was definitely witchcraft.

School was next. It shut down early today, but it never really started to begin with. Classes had cracked into cliques and anyone outside your circle could be a Satan-hailing-necromancer. The Populars huddled around a single desk, smiling-ever-so-politely with the very same lips they use to spill toxic rumors. The Outcasts slip notes under tables, Bullies shakedown anyone who dare meet their unwavering, synchronized leer. Even the teachers dealt in hearsay during lunch breaks while Wes, as always, remained outside of the drama.

Once he'd found comfort in that. Now it just made him a target.

↠ ↠ ↠

That considered, Wes dawdles behind on the walk to Church. One hand hides in his pocket while the other hugs a bible, tucking it protectively against his side. You wouldn't notice it's a copy of The Hobbit unless you got close━ he'd probably be reading up on witchcraft if there was anything left of it among the barren library shelves.

He stares but there's no vagueness in his eyes. He's looking for someone. He's looking for Juni, though a petite girl with shoulder length umber hair could be anyone in this crowd. With a squint, Wes can distinguish the forms of a few. Cordelia and her pack march in their practiced formation, the Winslow twins bound through the plains and the Pastor's son falls in stride with the underdog duo. It almost feels normal.

Tranquility is short lived. Everyone abruptly flinches, jumps or jolts in synchrony. Wes throws an instinctive glance past his shoulder, frowning to find exactly what he had expected; nothing. Perhaps it was the school siren? No, they're not looking in that direction. Nobody would have recoiled like that at a familiar sound. Wes knows only one noise that can illicit that reaction, he's seen deer behave the same when his brothers took him hunting.

He needs to find Juni, he decides.

Heads turn, curious gazes roving through the field. Wes finds sudden interest in the horizon and pretends to be oblivious. He's just a halfwit going about his business, don't mind him.
 
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boyguro

Заводной апельсин
#9
base code by sadvalentine | Animent

⛧ seamus winslow.

WITCH.
LOCATION the fields MOOD anxious
TAGS @pink tourmaline @soggychips @xxxtentacion @celloize

Graymoor had never felt so morbid. Despite the shining sun with few clouds dimening the blue sky, the soft swaying of the field grass and the distant, droned out chatter of common folk, today was a dark day. The birds chirped and the grasshoppers jumped as per usual, with no regards to the disturbing events that had unfolded the day prior, and the horrendous aftermath that it would cause. If the small town's religious fixation, or as some would even say, mania, hadn't done enough to segregate its citizens, Caroline Rodney's resurrection had certainly done the trick.

South Area Graymoor Education had been closed early per request of the Town Mayor Gideon Sawyer, and whilst the students of SAGE parted into their cliques and coteries, the rest of the folk closed their blinds tight and locked their doors before making their way out their front doors. It wasn't unusual, though of course foolish for certain people not to attend Church, however anyone who'd choose not to go that very day, would certainly not be granted a merciful fate. Anyone and everyone who didn't directly associate themselves with the word of the Lord was a suspect. A suspect of what, exactly? No one was sure. Witchcraft. Necromancy. Satanism. Perhaps the dead body had never really been Caroline in the first place. Or perhaps the girl that everyone had seen yesterday wasn't her.

Nevertheless, the macabre rumors that circulated the town did nothing to stop Sydney Winslow's inappropriate humor. "... and then she SLAMMED the Church doors open with her mind, whilst her eyes-"
"Syd."
"-lit up with the flames of the Devil, staring into the souls of-"
"Syd."
"EUREKA, she shrieks-"
"That's not even from the Bible."
The slightly shorter twin threw his arms down in frustration, interrupting his dramatic reenactment and shot his older brother a glare, shoving him to the side with a grunt. Seamus weakly cowered away from him and pulled his wrists to his chest in a defensive positon.

"Will you get that lump of coal out of your ass? You keep on being so uptight, in a week you'll shit out a diamond," he responded in annoyance, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Seamus huffed and scratched the little amount of hair he had on his head. "There's a place and a time to be comical, now is not that time," he mumbled, looking over his shoulder in case anyone had been listening to their conversation. Well, to Syd's monologue with Seamus's anxious commentary. You could never be too careful in a town like Graymoor.

"You're right," Syd replied abruptly before going silent, to Seamus's surprise. Barely a few seconds went by when he proceeded to continue with his loud banter. "Now seems like a good time. EUREKA! EUREKA, SHE SHRIEKS! I HAVE BEEN SENT BY THE DEVIL-"

BANG! The ear-piercing sound of a nearby rifle went off in the air, causing both the twins to suddenly stumble, Seamus tripping over his own feet and almost slamming face-first into the field ground. He scrambled to regain his balance whilst his brother turned to the direction of the blast, shoving his middle finger in the air and shouting something non-audible as another gunshot sounded. Seamus heartedly gripped Syd's arm and pushed it down, his head hanging low to attracting any more attention, though with his unusually tall frame that was of course inevitable, dragging his brother with him as the two began to sprint through the tall brown grass.

Panting for breath, Seamus slowed down to a halt as they neared the Pastor's son, who for an unknown reason seemed to be talking to the Sheriff's kid with very open Atheist beliefs and the notorious Summer Lee. "I. Hate. You," Seamus hissed, heaving for air with each word. Syd only laughed in response, looking over to the other three who were no doubt giving them the stink eye.

"Problem?" he inquired.

"The hell was that noise?" Jocelyn snapped back at him with a raised eyebrow to which Louis pulled a frown.

"I ripped a gnarly fart. My bad."

The Sheriff's daughter tightened her jaw at Syd's cocky smile, but before any fists could be thrown, Seamus stepped in between them. "It was probably some farmer, I'm sorry, he was just being really loud-"

"Loud? I was creating a performance-" Syd interrupted before Jocelyn cut him off.

"Must've been a pretty shit one." Syd pushed his brother out of the way, Seamus stumbling back and almost knocking Summer off her feet, storming right up to the brunette just as Louis attempted to calm the raging blonde and upon that, the scene broke out into a chaos of shouts and yelling.




Graymoor had never felt so morbid. Despite the shining sun with few clouds dimening the blue sky, the soft swaying of the field grass and the distant, droned out chatter of common folk, today was a dark day. The birds chirped and the grasshoppers jumped as per usual, with no regards to the disturbing events that had unfolded the day prior, and the horrendous aftermath that it would cause. If the small town's religious fixation, or as some would even say, mania, hadn't done enough to segregate its citizens, Caroline Rodney's resurrection had certainly done the trick.

South Area Graymoor Education had been closed early per request of the Town Mayor Gideon Sawyer, and whilst the students of SAGE parted into their cliques and coteries, the rest of the folk closed their blinds tight and locked their doors before making their way out their front doors. It wasn't unusual, though of course foolish for certain people not to attend Church, however anyone who'd choose not to go that very day, would certainly not be granted a merciful fate. Anyone and everyone who didn't directly associate themselves with the word of the Lord was a suspect. A suspect of what, exactly? No one was sure. Witchcraft. Necromancy. Satanism. Perhaps the dead body had never really been Caroline in the first place. Or perhaps the girl that everyone had seen yesterday wasn't her.

Nevertheless, the macabre rumors that circulated the town did nothing to stop Sydney Winslow's inappropriate humor. "... and then she SLAMMED the Church doors open with her mind, whilst her eyes-"
"Syd."
"-lit up with the flames of the Devil, staring into the souls of-"
"Syd."
"EUREKA, she shrieks-"
"That's not even from the Bible."
The slightly shorter twin threw his arms down in frustration, interrupting his dramatic reenactment and shot his older brother a glare, shoving him to the side with a grunt. Seamus weakly cowered away from him and pulled his wrists to his chest in a defensive positon.

"Will you get that lump of coal out of your ass? You keep on being so uptight, in a week you'll shit out a diamond," he responded in annoyance, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Seamus huffed and scratched the little amount of hair he had on his head. "There's a place and a time to be comical, now is not that time," he mumbled, looking over his shoulder in case anyone had been listening to their conversation. Well, to Syd's monologue with Seamus's anxious commentary. You could never be too careful in a town like Graymoor.

"You're right," Syd replied abruptly before going silent, to Seamus's surprise. Barely a few seconds went by when he proceeded to continue with his loud banter. "Now seems like a good time. EUREKA! EUREKA, SHE SHRIEKS! I HAVE BEEN SENT BY THE DEVIL-"

BANG! The ear-piercing sound of a nearby rifle went off in the air, causing both the twins to suddenly stumble, Seamus tripping over his own feet and almost slamming face-first into the field ground. He scrambled to regain his balance whilst his brother turned to the direction of the blast, shoving his middle finger in the air and shouting something non-audible as another gunshot sounded. Seamus heartedly gripped Syd's arm and pushed it down, his head hanging low to attracting any more attention, though with his unusually tall frame that was of course inevitable, dragging his brother with him as the two began to sprint through the tall brown grass.

Panting for breath, Seamus slowed down to a halt as they neared the Pastor's son, who for an unknown reason seemed to be talking to the Sheriff's kid with very open Atheist beliefs and the notorious Summer Lee. "I. Hate. You," Seamus hissed, heaving for air with each word. Syd only laughed in response, looking over to the other three who were no doubt giving them the stink eye.

"Problem?" he inquired.

"The hell was that noise?" Jocelyn snapped back at him with a raised eyebrow to which Louis pulled a frown.

"I ripped a gnarly fart. My bad."

The Sheriff's daughter tightened her jaw at Syd's cocky smile, but before any fists could be thrown, Seamus stepped in between them. "It was probably some farmer, I'm sorry, he was just being really loud-"

"Loud? I was creating a performance-" Syd interrupted before Jocelyn cut him off.

"Must've been a pretty shit one." Syd pushed his brother out of the way, Seamus stumbling back and almost knocking Summer off her feet, storming right up to the brunette just as Louis attempted to calm the raging blonde and upon that, the scene broke out into a chaos of shouts and yelling.
 
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vellichor.

winter storms
#10

JOCELYN X HALEY

Fat birds chirped a melody that Jocelyn didn't recognize as she trudged through the tall and maize-yellow field. She clutched her textbooks to her chest tightly, clenching her fist until her knuckles turned white. Anybody who noticed the ravenette's posture would call her tense; she called it alert.

Jocey glanced over at her friend beside here, who had an expression as if she had not a care in the world. "Are you not even a little unnerved?" Jocelyn inquired Summer, referencing yesterday's event in church. Of course, Jocey had not been there (a part of her regretted it, while the other part of her felt relieved), but she had heard enough rumors to be able to recite a blend of all the stories if you asked nicely enough. Jocelyn laughed as Summer simply shrugged. She continued talking, prattling on and on about the randomest things without even sparing a breath.

Jocelyn breathed in heavily, breaking eye contact with Summer and glancing in front of them at Louis. As if sensing her stare, he turned. Shooting the boy a glare that would give anybody chills, Jocey turned back to Summer as if Louis had not caught her staring.

"Do you think the person who stumbled into our church was actually Caroline? Or is this like what happened in the book of Mark- you know, the whole demon possession thing. I'm just curious as to what you two think, since everyone seems to have their own theories, you know."

Jocelyn glanced back at Louis, raising her eyebrow. "I think–that we are to soon find out in church because that's obviously the most logical way to discover the truth. After all, God's word is final. But what am I saying? The Pastor's baby boy already knows that," Jocelyn mocked. The recent incident with Caroline still echoed in Jocey's mind, and she felt a chill creeping up her spine as she thought about it, not knowing why. This, however, still did not justify the fact that Louis was simply asking politely, and although they both did hold grudges against each other, she had attacked him randomly. Although Jocelyn felt guilty, she refused to show weakness and kept her chin up defiantly.

"EUREKA, SHE SHRIEKS! I HAVE BEEN SENT BY THE–"

Jocelyn turned swiftly, coming face-to-face with the Winslow twins. They had been walking behind Summer and Jocelyn for a long time now, but they were now close enough for Jocelyn to hear what they– mainly Sydney– were saying. Just as she whirled around, a shrill and deafeningly loud noise was heard. It was, with no doubt, the sound of a gun being fired.

"The hell was that noise?" she demanded, setting her jaw.

"I ripped a gnarly fart. My bad."

Jocey glowered at Sydney, tempted to separate his head from his torso before Seamus stepped forward, attempting to come up with an explanation. Sydney quickly intervened, much to Jocelyn's displeasure. "Loud? I was creating a performance."

"Must've been a pretty shit one," Jocelyn retaliated, stepping forward threateningly.

Sydney shoved his brother away, sending Seamus tumbling towards Summer. Angered at fucking Sydney and his fucking arrogance and all in all, just the whole situation with Caroline, Jocelyn let out all her tension in a fist that connected to Sydney's jaw. "Don't fucking lay your hands on Summer, you heathen," Jocelyn spat at Sydney, ignoring the fact that it was Seamus and it was probably accidental. Jocelyn heard a sickening sound of flesh on flesh and felt a burning sensation on her cheek.

All hell broke loose.
[/color]

mood: ready to start a fight
outfit: hipster vibes
interaction: louis shepherd & seamus winslow & summer lee & sydney winslow
tags: @boyguro & @celloize & @soggychips & @xxxtentacion



coding by: diaphanous


Fat birds chirped a melody that Jocelyn didn't recognize as she trudged through the tall and maize-yellow field. She clutched her textbooks to her chest tightly, clenching her fist until her knuckles turned white. Anybody who noticed the ravenette's posture would call her tense; she called it alert.

Jocey glanced over at her friend beside here, who had an expression as if she had not a care in the world. "Are you not even a little unnerved?" Jocelyn inquired Summer, referencing yesterday's event in church. Of course, Jocey had not been there (a part of her regretted it, while the other part of her felt relieved), but she had heard enough rumors to be able to recite a blend of all the stories if you asked nicely enough. Jocelyn laughed as Summer simply shrugged. She continued talking, prattling on and on about the randomest things without even sparing a breath.

Jocelyn breathed in heavily, breaking eye contact with Summer and glancing in front of them at Louis. As if sensing her stare, he turned. Shooting the boy a glare that would give anybody chills, Jocey turned back to Summer as if Louis had not caught her staring.

"Do you think the person who stumbled into our church was actually Caroline? Or is this like what happened in the book of Mark- you know, the whole demon possession thing. I'm just curious as to what you two think, since everyone seems to have their own theories, you know."

Jocelyn glanced back at Louis, raising her eyebrow. "I think–that we are to soon find out in church because that's obviously the most logical way to discover the truth. After all, God's word is final. But what am I saying? The Pastor's baby boy already knows that," Jocelyn mocked. The recent incident with Caroline still echoed in Jocey's mind, and she felt a chill creeping up her spine as she thought about it, not knowing why. This, however, still did not justify the fact that Louis was simply asking politely, and although they both did hold grudges against each other, she had attacked him randomly. Although Jocelyn felt guilty, she refused to show weakness and kept her chin up defiantly.

"EUREKA, SHE SHRIEKS! I HAVE BEEN SENT BY THE–"

Jocelyn turned swiftly, coming face-to-face with the Winslow twins. They had been walking behind Summer and Jocelyn for a long time now, but they were now close enough for Jocelyn to hear what they– mainly Sydney– were saying. Just as she whirled around, a shrill and deafeningly loud noise was heard. It was, with no doubt, the sound of a gun being fired.

"The hell was that noise?" she demanded, setting her jaw.

"I ripped a gnarly fart. My bad."

Jocey glowered at Sydney, tempted to separate his head from his torso before Seamus stepped forward, attempting to come up with an explanation. Sydney quickly intervened, much to Jocelyn's displeasure. "Loud? I was creating a performance."

"Must've been a pretty shit one," Jocelyn retaliated, stepping forward threateningly.

Sydney shoved his brother away, sending Seamus tumbling towards Summer. Angered at fucking Sydney and his fucking arrogance and all in all, just the whole situation with Caroline, Jocelyn let out all her tension in a fist that connected to Sydney's jaw. "Don't fucking lay your hands on Summer, you heathen," Jocelyn spat at Sydney, ignoring the fact that it was Seamus and it was probably accidental. Jocelyn heard a sickening sound of flesh on flesh and felt a burning sensation on her cheek.

All hell broke loose.
 

boyguro

Заводной апельсин
#11
base code by sadvalentine | Animent

⚕ victor darlington.

THE COCKATRICE.
LOCATION the fields MOOD amused
TAGS @witchery @zeroinspo @soggychips
There was nothing that filthy rich, egoistic Victor Darlington loved more than an opportunity to stir pandemonium, and the town gathering of all religious freaks, non-believers and weirdos was the perfect opening. Over the years he'd lost a few of his inner circle partners in crime, due to them being banished from the town or arrested for acts he'd pushed them into commiting but never parttaking in them himself. He was never the brightest bulb in the box, but he knew to leave the dirty work to his followers, he wouldn't want to have any blood on his hands now would he?

This time around however, he'd decided to play it low. He was certain he would never be a suspect of the recent strange occurence, and God have mercy on anyone who dared point a finger at him, but as an esteemed citizen, it was his duty and responsibility to protect his closest accquaintes from those very same accusations that could land them in the hands of Graymoor's judgement.

And so, the slim dark-haired boy plucked his two dearest colleagues, Bowie Blackwood and Benji Hollister, from the swarm that surrounded him at school and left with them towards the Church. Not long after begining their stroll through the overgrown brown fields, the trio was approached by a short & stocky old man with a grey, almost completely balded hair and less teeth in his mouth than hair on his head, sat at a wooden chair on his front porch watching his sheep, a rifle perched next to him. "Well, if it ain't sweet lil Victor, c'mere boy!" the man known as Russel Myers, a well established farmer called out. The three boys stopped in their tracks, Benji snickering at the man's use of 'sweet' to which Victor responded with an elbow to his ribcage. Pulling an ear-to-ear grin, Victor trudged towards Russel and smiled.

"Russel! How are you doing on this fine, warm day?" he asked, his two friends pulling up beside him.

The farmer shook his head and sighed, pulling down the tip of his hat. "Fine? Boy, the weather might be swell, but there ain't no doubt about it no more, there's witches round these parts," he spoke. "You three on your way to the meeting? I woulda gone, but I got my animals to look after, and I ain't risking no demon taking 'em."

"Yes sir, we sure a-" Victor began to speak when a sudden, familiar voice interrupted him midsentence, shrieking something about the Devil. Moving to look over his shoulder, Victor tightened his jaw and tensed at the sight of his ex best friend, Syd Winslow and his pitiful excuse of a brother. Letting go of the tension in order to keep a calm composure, he turned once more to look at Russel and began tutting. "If I were you sir, I'd show those sinners what happens you speak of the Devil as if it were somethin' funny," he suggested.

Russel raised an eyebrow, hesitantly picking up his rifle. "That lad has always stirred up damn trouble..." he mumbled, unsureness tinting his voice. Before another word could be uttered, Syd screamed again and without a moments pause, the old man pushed past the boys, clocking his gun and- BAM!. He fired. BAM! Another shot. Victor stumbled backwards and put his hands over his ears, in shock yet laughing hysterically at the same time.

Bowie slammed his shoulder onto Victor, both him and Benji shooting glares at him. "Christ! Jesus fucking Christ, are you damn near crazy?" he spat, running his hand through his hair. Russel turned and gave Bowie a questioning look as if to say 'you dare use our Savior's name in vain?'. Bowie staggered back slightly, eyeing Russel's rifle that he still held tightly in firing position.

"They got what they deserved, c'mon, we're leaving," Victor scoffed. "Pleasure seeing you as always, sir." Russel tipped his hat once more, an odd smile curling up on the sides of his mouth, and with that, the clique continued down their original path.

"You're an idiot, Darlington," Bowie mumbled, shaking his head.

Victor reached into his pocket, taking out a half-full cigarette pack he'd snatched from his fathers office that morning, pulling out three and handing one to both his friends and a small, red lighter. "And you're a pain in my ass, here, have a smoke, it'll calm you down," he replied. Begrudingly, Bowie grabbed the cigarette from his hand and lit up, just as they began nearing the others who had arrived at the Church before them, the droned out sounds of yelling and arguing rising by the second.



There was nothing that filthy rich, egoistic Victor Darlington loved more than an opportunity to stir pandemonium, and the town gathering of all religious freaks, non-believers and weirdos was the perfect opening. Over the years he'd lost a few of his inner circle partners in crime, due to them being banished from the town or arrested for acts he'd pushed them into commiting but never parttaking in them himself. He was never the brightest bulb in the box, but he knew to leave the dirty work to his followers, he wouldn't want to have any blood on his hands now would he?

This time around however, he'd decided to play it low. He was certain he would never be a suspect of the recent strange occurence, and God have mercy on anyone who dared point a finger at him, but as an esteemed citizen, it was his duty and responsibility to protect his closest accquaintes from those very same accusations that could land them in the hands of Graymoor's judgement.

And so, the slim dark-haired boy plucked his two dearest colleagues, Bowie Blackwood and Benji Hollister, from the swarm that surrounded him at school and left with them towards the Church. Not long after begining their stroll through the overgrown brown fields, the trio was approached by a short & stocky old man with a grey, almost completely balded hair and less teeth in his mouth than hair on his head, sat at a wooden chair on his front porch watching his sheep, a rifle perched next to him. "Well, if it ain't sweet lil Victor, c'mere boy!" the man known as Russel Myers, a well established farmer called out. The three boys stopped in their tracks, Benji snickering at the man's use of 'sweet' to which Victor responded with an elbow to his ribcage. Pulling an ear-to-ear grin, Victor trudged towards Russel and smiled.

"Russel! How are you doing on this fine, warm day?" he asked, his two friends pulling up beside him.

The farmer shook his head and sighed, pulling down the tip of his hat. "Fine? Boy, the weather might be swell, but there ain't no doubt about it no more, there's witches round these parts," he spoke. "You three on your way to the meeting? I woulda gone, but I got my animals to look after, and I ain't risking no demon taking 'em."

"Yes sir, we sure a-" Victor began to speak when a sudden, familiar voice interrupted him midsentence, shrieking something about the Devil. Moving to look over his shoulder, Victor tightened his jaw and tensed at the sight of his ex best friend, Syd Winslow and his pitiful excuse of a brother. Letting go of the tension in order to keep a calm composure, he turned once more to look at Russel and began tutting. "If I were you sir, I'd show those sinners what happens you speak of the Devil as if it were somethin' funny," he suggested.

Russel raised an eyebrow, hesitantly picking up his rifle. "That lad has always stirred up damn trouble..." he mumbled, unsureness tinting his voice. Before another word could be uttered, Syd screamed again and without a moments pause, the old man pushed past the boys, clocking his gun and- BAM!. He fired. BAM! Another shot. Victor stumbled backwards and put his hands over his ears, in shock yet laughing hysterically at the same time.

Bowie slammed his shoulder onto Victor, both him and Benji shooting glares at him. "Christ! Jesus fucking Christ, are you damn near crazy?" he spat, running his hand through his hair. Russel turned and gave Bowie a questioning look as if to say 'you dare use our Savior's name in vain?'. Bowie staggered back slightly, eyeing Russel's rifle that he still held tightly in firing position.

"They got what they deserved, c'mon, we're leaving," Victor scoffed. "Pleasure seeing you as always, sir." Russel tipped his hat once more, an odd smile curling up on the sides of his mouth, and with that, the clique continued down their original path.

"You're an idiot, Darlington," Bowie mumbled, shaking his head.

Victor reached into his pocket, taking out a half-full cigarette pack he'd snatched from his fathers office that morning, pulling out three and handing one to both his friends and a small, red lighter. "And you're a pain in my ass, here, have a smoke, it'll calm you down," he replied. Begrudingly, Bowie grabbed the cigarette from his hand and lit up, just as they began nearing the others who had arrived at the Church before them, the droned out sounds of yelling and arguing rising by the second.
 
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witchery

— sincerity is scary.
#12
bowie blackwood - hellhound.
Bowie, to say the least, was probably the last person in Graymoor to give a fuck about Caroline's resurrection. His whole family was superstitious about spirits and the occult while Bowie didn't want to know anything. The male was planning to ditch the meeting and head home to enjoy his grandmother's cooking when his friends pulled him in the other direction. Whether it was because Bowie wasn't the most catholic guy in the town or the idea of messing with Caroline the demon, Bowie didn't want to go; yet Victor had other ideas. His ratty blue shoes scuffed across the dirt road with his hands in his pockets and Victor Darlington, the most egotistical teen in the tiny town and his best friend, lead them towards Russel Myers. With a groan and a irritated eyeroll, Bowie wandered behind Victor and stood next to him.

The young male's mind wandered off after a few moments of listening to Victor's and Russel's conversation about animals and Caroline, Bowie wasn't a hundred per cent sure on what they were talking about. His gaze wandered to a group of silhouettes screaming about the Devil. Bowie rose a curious eyebrow at the sight, not giving it a second thought about the dramatic yelling. It was just the Winslow twins, it wasn't unusual. Before Bowie could turn around, two loud bangs came out of nowhere and nearly put Bowie in cardiac arrest out of surprise. Bowie stumbled back in instinct, knocking into a laughing Victor.

"Christ! Jesus fucking Christ, are you damn near crazy?" Bowie screamed, the sinful words slipping out of his lips without noticing. The male ran his hand through his hair and blinked back, realising who he was with and what he just said. His fingers nervously tapped against his left leg as Bowie eyed the smoking rifle, moving away as Victor said goodbye to the crazy farmer.

"You're an idiot, Darlington," Bowie grumbled, keeping his head low as he trudged along. He looked up and happily took the tiny white roll and slipped the cigarette in between his lips. Swiftly, he pulled out a matchbox and swiped the match against the side, lighting the cigarette up with the match before shaking the flame out and throwing it away. The male took a long drag from the cigarette and allowed the smoke to flow out of his lips. Bowie's thoughts about whether to make a run for it or not was drowned out by the sound of yelling at the front of the church. He could make some faces; Joselyn, one of the Winslow twins on the ground and Summer watching while the rest look like a cartoonish blur. "Can this day get any worse?" Bowie huffed before making his way down the hill.

with - victor _ benji / tags - @boyguro + @zeroinspo / outfit - hellhound
 
#13













BENJI HOLLISTER !

the opening ↴​
mentioned: @boyguro & @witchery

The news about Caroline's resurrection was probably one of the best things since Benji moved to Graymoor. The panic of the people, the thrill and the fact that he had seen her entering the church that day gave him a major boost. Finally, something is happening in this shithole. Was it all set up? Did she really resurrect? Demons? So many questions, yet no answers so far. Just insane rumours that made absolutely no sense. In general Benji didn't even care, but if it was some kind of magic stuff he'd sure as hell wanted to learn it. For once he was excited to go to church. Hollister got picked up by Victor Darlington, the most arrogant, egotistical and most close-minded teen in Graymoor, but also dumb enough to not see how Benji just used him as a cover. Not the worst person though, the way he acted with his "fuck it" mentality always got them into interesting situations. To complete the holy trinity the two dragged Bowie Blackwood with them on their way.

"You're an idiot, Darlington," was what Bowie grumbled after the Russel miracle. The hands of Benji got folded behind his head as the light green / blueish eyes gazed across the fields. "Nothing new, right." was what he replied, a grin forming on his face as his eyes shifted back to Bowie. A rock got kicked away into the dust and Benji gladly took the cigarette that Victor handed them. "Can this day get any worse?" was what Bowie huffed once the three started to make their way down the hill. Benji covered the flame from the match and lit up the cigarette as he followed. "Worse? A girl just resurrected and it seems like there's some drama going on over there." was what he replied, holding the cigarette in between his lips as he spoke. The match got thrown onto the ground and extinguished by one of the best church shoes he owned. Special occasion meant an even more extreme catholic outfit. With a deep inhale Benji continued the sentence. "Seems like we hit the jackpot today if you ask me." The outlines in the distance became more detailed and now it was possible to match names to the features. Joselyn, who's fist got hit harshly against one of the Winslow twins. Probably Syd's. Where Syd was, was also Seamus somewhere near. And lastly on the ground sat Summer Lee.

Benji shove both of his hands in the pocket of his pants and squinted his eyes. Seemed like Syd didn't just let Joselyn punch him without doing something in return, but Benji missed what had happened due to the others that hanged around the duo. The church was coming closer and he hoped to pick up more of the conversation between Joselyn and Syd. "Jesus, never knew Joselyn had such a temper." he chuckled before he took another drag of his cigarette. "Excuse my language, I mean darnit of course."


[color=#grey]
code by pasta
 
#14
tate piers

Tate's hand was currently firmly gripping his younger sister, Louise's. Call him overprotective but it was a hell of a crowd they'd be walking to, and he was already annoyed that his father couldn't swing by to drive them to the church. Not that he didn't like walking, he just got annoyed when Louise would occasionally squeak at the sight of some stupid bug that was minding it's own business.

Chris Piers had insisted that day that he couldn’t pick up the two siblings, as he wanted to get to the church earlier incase he missed any important information. Tate however just reckons he’s being lazy and somehow wanted to punish Tate for maybe like, getting angry at him. Though it was most likely that wasn’t the case, Chris Piers wasn’t that petty, he told it how it is. That was arguably one of Tate’s favourite things about his dad.

“Y’know Tate, my friend saw Caroline like, right in front of her. Apparently her eyes were like all hollow— like they didn’t even have eyes in the sockets.” Louise explained to Tate, he could feel himself rolling his eyes. “I’ve come to never believe what your friends say, if I’m being honest.” He says, picking up his speed in walking slightly. “Well how do you know what she looked like, hm?” Louise tested, squinting up at her brother. “I don’t know what she looked like, but I do know that if she had no eyes in their sockets, a whole lotta elderly people would’ve been screaming more.” He nods, thinking he’d won this argument and that Louise wouldn’t tell anymore fake stories. “Maybe they were all in shock, I dunno.” She shrugged, letting go of Tate’s hand and wiping the sweat from her palms on her t-shirt.

“Whatever ‘she’ looked like, it was a hoax. Why in the hell would a witch go ahead and bring he dead to life here, I know that if I were a witch I’d go to some like, liberal state like California.” He states, all this nonsense about zombies and ghouls had all flown over his head when being discussed at school, talk of the supernatural bothered him, as he was sure almost every supernatural account that’s ever occurred had been coincidental.
/coded by allure/
 
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#15
Name:: July A. Fitch असुर; Location:: the fields; Interacting:: victor d + g. 2 ;
This was a rather abnormal day for July Fitch. Being woken up in the morning by his alarm, he turned it off before groggily noticing that a white dress shirt and a pair of pressed trousers were hanging off his chair and closer door handle. His aunt probably ironed them but he couldn't for the life of himself figure out why it was such a formal outfit, as he got dressed. When he went to get toast he also heard whispers from above (probably his aunt or uncle) about some kind of church thing.

School wasn't any better, as it turned out, whispers and whispers snaked around his ears and he often found himself trying to eavesdrop and glance around for more information about whatever the heck was happening. As it turns out, apparently a girl that died a few years ago was zombified or something and appeared in church. In all honesty July couldn't help but just shrug it off, then classes were out early and suddenly there was a town's meeting about witchcraft of all things.

Now that was something he wasn't thrilled about, it was basically yelling out someone punch this bastard over here!.

But with the mystery of why he had such a formal get up today solved, he supposed that just as the other people of the town, he'd have to go to church. He couldn't exactly refuse, and in all honesty he was quite curious as to what happened, so he walked along the fields with a sort of trudging walk, where he both looked bored and focused somehow. Passing the fields he heard a loud gunshot from close by and he saw the farmer who's name he didn't bother to know, and a certain Victor Darlington and his goons. "Christ! Jesus fucking Christ, are you damn near crazy?"

His gaze on them barely lasted for a milisecond before he turned and whiffed out the surprisingly familiar scent of cigarettes, walking as far and quickly as he could away from them in order to avoid trouble (tugging at his backpack straps). He heard garbled laughter from his tormentor, as the scent of disgusting smoke filled his nose more and more.

Avoiding glancing back. In front of him he saw figures of people, and it looked like a fight. It seemed like a girl just docked a Winslow twin in the face, and somewhere in in the distance a large, almost slightly ghoulish figure reminded July of one of the only tolarable people he knew, Wes.

He started his paced walk again, straightening out his pants and sweater slightly before hearing Victor Darlington call out for him, "Hey homo! Were you the one to summon it?" July turned his head back looking at one of the biggest annoyances of his life before deciding to just turn away and continue walking.

He didn't want to have a bloody nose before even attending church, that would be way too early for his prediction.

Little idiot didn't realize that's another way to provoke a person, after all ignorance stings mightier than lightning.
'..you might've done a little wrong, but you swear you didn't do it...'
 
#16
SYDNEY WINSLOW




Sydney listened to the sound of brittle yellow grass crunching under his boots as he wandered towards the church next to his twin brother. Like most others in the town, he had the image of Caroline Rodney etched into the back of his eyelids. The whole situation of her dying and then one day suddenly returning back to Graymoor fascinated him. Typically he wouldn't go to church any more than he was required to, but he had so many questions that needed so many answers. Syd figured that a room full of biblethumpers who hate science wouldn't really be able to draw any feasible conclusions about what really happened, but at least he could pick up on some more joke content. Because jokes about hicks being religious never get's old, right?

Syd decided he'd been too quiet and too dry for his liking, and it was time to bring some humor to the situation. He typically makes jokes of everything that truly bothers him, so why not try to lighten up the mood? Right? He paid no attention to any of his fellow churchgoers, and decided to proceed with his story.
"Hey, Seamus." Syd finally broke the silence.
"Yeah?"
"I got a story for you." He slightly grinned.
"... Okay." Seamus sounded quite hesitant, as anyone would be when approached by Sydney.
"So once upon a time, there were these two twin brothers. Everyone in town knew them, and I mean everyone. The slightly younger, slightly shorter one was well-known for his strikingly handsome looks and charming persona, and the other one was well-known because he's the hot one's brother and he's ridiculously tall and hard to miss..." The lore to Syd's story lasted an obnoxiously long time. "... and then she SLAMMED the Church doors open with her mind, whilst her eyes-"
"Syd."
"-lit up with the flames of the Devil, staring into the souls of-"
"Syd."
"EUREKA, she shrieks-"
"That's not even from the Bible."
Syd rolled his eyes and slightly shoved Seamus as he passed by him. He knew his story was the opposite of tasteful, but being interrupted is one of his biggest pet peeves. They walked in silence for a moment, until Syd decided he had something to say yet again.

"Will you get that lump of coal out of your ass? You keep on being so uptight, in a week you'll shit out a diamond," He internally snickered; he was a little too proud of himself for that one. "There's a place and time to be comical, now is not that time," Syd's stupid remark was soon met with a logical statement from Seamus, which went in one ear and directly out of the other.

Then he had a little idea.

"You're right." Syd sighed and shrugged, looking off into the distance as if he was truly contemplating his mistake. The conversation went silent for a moment. "Now seems like a good time. EUREKA! EUREKA, SHE SHRIEKS! I HAVE BEEN SENT BY THE DEVIL-" Suddenly, the loud distinct crack of a rifle echoed loudly through the premises; anyone within a mile radius could have heard. Syd stumbled, losing his footing for a moment before turning around and waving his middle finger in the air towards the direction of the sound, which warranted a second gunshot and sent the pair off running through the field.

Syd slowed down and reached a full stop near a group of teens who were clearly glaring at him, which he clearly couldn't care less about. "I. Hate. You." Seamus muttered in response to the recent events, in which Syd responded to with a drawn-out, airy burst of laughter. He glanced around at the teenagers standing near him. He recognized them all and knew their first names, which was quite common for a small town like this. Most people would feel embarrassed and uncomfortable being hatefully stared at, but Syd lived for it. He went through life acting like him and Seamus were the only real people in the world, and everyone else just existed for his amusement.

One particular person was giving him an especially nasty look. Jocelyn Haley; a professional stick-up-the-ass. He already used an ass joke on Seamus, though. He figured that may be redundant, so he kept it to himself. "Problem?" Syd tilted his head and looked in Jocelyn's direction, awaiting a response. "The hell was that noise?" She inquired, in which he quickly responded "I ripped a gnarly fart, my bad."

Seamus quickly interjected, apologizing for Syd and describing his actions as loud. "Loud? I was creating a performance." Syd glanced towards his brother and then back at Jocelyn; that infuriating grin plastered across his face. "Must've been a pretty shit one," She shot back Syd tried to push past Seamus, but accidentally pushed a bit too strong, causing his brother to stumble directly into another bystander, Summer Lee. At this point, Syd knew he had gone to far, but his pride and ego clouded his judgement. He felt bad for shoving his brother and knocking Summer, yet it was the last thing on his mind at the same time.

All of a sudden, a fist connected to the side of his jaw which was completely unexpected. With adrenaline rushing through his veins after receiving a hit, of course his first inclination was to hit back. Syd thought the whole social rule of not being allowed to hit someone who hit you first because of their gender was complete bullshit, but he figured fighting the sherrif's daughter was not a good move. His jaw stung slightly, but he'd taken far worse hits in his life. "Don't fucking lay your hands on Summer, you heathen," Jocelyn looked at him with complete disgust, spitting in his direction. Her saliva landed directly on the front of his shirt, which he used his jacket sleeve to wipe away. And even after being scolded, hit, and spit on, he still wasn't done.

At this point, he was a boiling pit of anger. If you thought he had no filter before, you haven't seen him when he's really mad. "At least take me out for dinner before you lube me up," He gestured towards the saliva spot that was now on his sleeve. "I mean I guess I can't blame you, I'd lash out at people too if everyone thought my mom was a slut." A statement Syd would definitely regret in the future, but hot-headedness and impulsiveness are not a good mix.


mood// aggravated
mentions // @boyguro @pink tourmaline @xxxtentacion

 

sinbin

gothboy clique™
#17
mood: alarmed
location: the fields




He keeps his gaze trained on the horizon and tries to lose his thoughts in it.

The sky is a lonely stretch of washout, powder blue that reminds Wes of faded denim. The clouds— wispy, scarce things that they are, are like tufts of scanty cotton that line the tears of the fabric. Clouds are like rifts to the heavens, he thinks. What pseudo-holy bullshit comes as an afterthought. The imagery is nice, but illusive. Wes knows clouds are just condensed aerosols comprised of minute droplets. The sky only stays interesting for so long and his stare floats back to the beaten track ahead.

More specifically, the sudden mob. Wes is unsure of what's happening, but if this combination of people are together it can never be anything good. He cannot hear the fight but he can see it brewing. Syd beams with his signature smile, an obnoxious and ingenuous thing, as he mouths at Jocey. It's bad. Wes had seen that same shit-eating grin years ago before Syd had launched himself at Victor and into a messy, raw punch-up.

He does now what he had done back then, and every other god damn day of his life; he watches, silent. The only thing he can do.

Wes almost flinches when Jocey throws the first hit. He doubts Syd will swing back, especially in front of his brother, but that relentless attack on Victor plays on loop in the back of his mind. Wes doesn't realise how hard he's gripping his novel until he shifts it, tucking it under his elbow. Colour flows back into his paled knuckles and he breaks into a brisk pace, powering towards the fight with long, hurried strides.

His throat constricts and he can only breathe (insufficient, shallow breaths) through his nostrils. His heart pounds and his body seems to act before his brain can even register what it's doing. Wes had forgotten what adrenaline feels like. The strange, confused glances pelted at him certainly don't help. He's not friends with anyone in this group aside from Jocey, but only she knew that. Their friendship never left the library or polaroids of afternoons they'd wagged class. Despite this, he doesn't awkwardly brisk past as he so desperately wants to.

Wes halts beside Jocey who is side-on to him. His shuttered eyes flit between both twins, but he fixes Syd with a particularly jagged look as a hand comes to rest on Jocey's shoulder. He doesn't grip her or pull her back— he's just there. His hold is gentle and reassuring. The glance he sends her doesn't share the same tenderness as his touch; it's stern, a warning.

Don't do it.

His lips press into a thin line and his brows furrow, only subtly. Something softens in his face.

Please.

mentions: @soggychips @pink tourmaline @boyguro

WESLEY SUTTER, transcendent angel
code // just-peachy


He keeps his gaze trained on the horizon and tries to lose his thoughts in it.

The sky is a lonely stretch of washout, powder blue that reminds Wes of faded denim. The clouds— wispy, scarce things that they are, are like tufts of scanty cotton that line the tears of the fabric. Clouds are like rifts to the heavens, he thinks. What pseudo-holy bullshit comes as an afterthought. The imagery is nice, but illusive. Wes knows clouds are just condensed aerosols comprised of minute droplets. The sky only stays interesting for so long and his stare floats back to the beaten track ahead.

More specifically, the sudden mob. Wes is unsure of what's happening, but if this combination of people are together it can never be anything good. He cannot hear the fight but he can see it brewing. Syd beams with his signature smile, an obnoxious and ingenuous thing, as he mouths at Jocey. It's bad. Wes had seen that same shit-eating grin years ago before Syd had launched himself at Victor and into a messy, raw punch-up.

He does now what he had done back then, and every other god damn day of his life; he watches, silent. The only thing he can do.

Wes almost flinches when Jocey throws the first hit. He doubts Syd will swing back, especially in front of his brother, but that relentless attack on Victor plays on loop in the back of his mind. Wes doesn't realise how hard he's gripping his novel until he shifts it, tucking it under his elbow. Colour flows back into his paled knuckles and he breaks into a brisk pace, powering towards the fight with long, hurried strides.

His throat constricts and he can only breathe (insufficient, shallow breaths) through his nostrils. His heart pounds and his body seems to act before his brain can even register what it's doing. Wes had forgotten what adrenaline feels like. The strange, confused glances pelted at him certainly don't help. He's not friends with anyone in this group aside from Jocey, but only she knew that. Their friendship never left the library or polaroids of afternoons they'd wagged class. Despite this, he doesn't awkwardly brisk past as he so desperately wants to.

Wes halts beside Jocey who is side-on to him. His shuttered eyes flit between both twins, but he fixes Syd with a particularly jagged look as a hand comes to rest on Jocey's shoulder. He doesn't grip her or pull her back— he's just there. His hold is gentle and reassuring. The glance he sends her doesn't share the same tenderness as his touch; it's stern, a warning.

Don't do it.

His lips press into a thin line and his brows furrow, only subtly. Something softens in his face.

Please.
 
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boyguro

Заводной апельсин
#18

♱ cordelia sawyer.


-
THE BASILISK.
LOCATION the fields MOOD surprised
TAGS @witchery @xxxtentacion @macrombie @soggychips @sinbin @pink tourmaline
Ren knew it would attract wrong attention from all the right people to slither in to the brawl that had begun to unfold in the the holiest place in town, but she also knew that she had to assess her authority.

Did the redhead really care for the mindless brutes who were throwing fists and shooting each other frivolous glares, contaminating a sacred place with sin? No. Did she however care that they dared think it was acceptable to go against what she and her sorority group preached, whether a bucket of bullshit or not? Oh yes, and there will be a price to pay.

Disregarding her assemblance of Christian schoolgirls, Ren whipped her hair over her shoulder, cutting off Hailey in a direct beeline towards the Winslow twins and the Sheriff's daughter, shoving her to the side with her elbow and nearly knocking her off balance. While some people unconsciously judged others according to their hair color, or their height, or their weight, Ren's brain had an almost automatic mechanism of identifying people with their disgraces. Atheist, freak, lesbian, cripple, coward, Jew, the words mulling over in her brain as she swiftly came to a halt with the fish-eyed, bald-headed pasty twins to her right and the despicable Jocelyn to her left, the cripple's hand resting on her shoulder.

Why hold her back? Ren thought, the side of her mouth curling up into an unusual grin. Let the dog loose.

"Would you look at that, freaks turning on freaks," she spoke boldly, looking at all standing in the circle before her. "Aren't misfits supposed to band together? I guess you are making the job on those of God's side easier, we don't even have to lay a finger on you, you'll eat each other up all by yourselves." A sickly sweet smile followed, just as Charmeine pulled up next to her, her Bible still hugged to her body, her expression strangley indifferent but unhesitant to look them in the eye.

A familiar male voice spoke up slightly farther behind from the group. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of-" Bowie began to speak, his cigarette bobbing up and down in his mouth, not able to finish his sentence.

"Quiet, Blackwood," Charmeine snapped. A small mocking 'ooo' sound erupted from Syd's mouth, who seemed all too pleased with himself, his wimpy brother cowering behind him, unsure of what to do. Charmeine turned to him, her eyebrows dangerously narrow whilst raising her voice, "Do you need to get socked in the face again, Sydney?" Had one been distracted by the unmistakeable tension, one might've thought that the vibrating tremor that suddenly began lightly shaking the ground were Charmeine's irritated remark. The blonde was unable to answer before a potent, unexpected gust of wind lashed through the grass of the fields, knocking against the aging wood of the Church. Ren looked up at the sky in shock, struggling to mantain her footing and noticing a large, fat mass of grey clouds beginning to loom over the sky.



Ren knew it would attract wrong attention from all the right people to slither in to the brawl that had begun to unfold in the the holiest place in town, but she also knew that she had to assess her authority.

Did the redhead really care for the mindless brutes who were throwing fists and shooting each other frivolous glares, contaminating a sacred place with sin? No. Did she however care that they dared think it was acceptable to go against what she and her sorority group preached, whether a bucket of bullshit or not? Oh yes, and there will be a price to pay.

Disregarding her assemblance of Christian schoolgirls, Ren whipped her hair over her shoulder, cutting off Hailey in a direct beeline towards the Winslow twins and the Sheriff's daughter, shoving her to the side with her elbow and nearly knocking her off balance. While some people unconsciously judged others according to their hair color, or their height, or their weight, Ren's brain had an almost automatic mechanism of identifying people with their disgraces. Atheist, freak, lesbian, cripple, coward, Jew, the words mulling over in her brain as she swiftly came to a halt with the fish-eyed, bald-headed pasty twins to her right and the despicable Jocelyn to her left, the cripple's hand resting on her shoulder.

Why hold her back? Ren thought, the side of her mouth curling up into an unusual grin. Let the dog loose.

"Would you look at that, freaks turning on freaks," she spoke boldly, looking at all standing in the circle before her. "Aren't misfits supposed to band together? I guess you are making the job on those of God's side easier, we don't even have to lay a finger on you, you'll eat each other up all by yourselves." A sickly sweet smile followed, just as Charmeine pulled up next to her, her Bible still hugged to her body, her expression strangley indifferent but unhesitant to look them in the eye.

A familiar male voice spoke up slightly farther behind from the group. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of-" Bowie began to speak, his cigarette bobbing up and down in his mouth, not able to finish his sentence.

"Quiet, Blackwood," Charmeine snapped. A small mocking 'ooo' sound erupted from Syd's mouth, who seemed all too pleased with himself, his wimpy brother cowering behind him, unsure of what to do. Charmeine turned to him, her eyebrows dangerously narrow whilst raising her voice, "Do you need to get socked in the face again, Sydney?" Had one been distracted by the unmistakeable tension, one might've thought that the vibrating tremor that suddenly began lightly shaking the ground were Charmeine's irritated remark. The blonde was unable to answer before a potent, unexpected gust of wind lashed through the grass of the fields, knocking against the aging wood of the Church. Ren looked up at the sky in shock, struggling to mantain her footing and noticing a large, fat mass of grey clouds beginning to loom over the sky.
 
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celloize

gay confusion
#19
louis shepherd
-
archangel michael


This certainly wasn't how Louis imagined his late morning to go.

He had simply wanted to make conversation with a couple people in order to ease off his nervousness, and it was going great at first- despite the insult from Jocelyn -but the next thing Louis knew voices began to grow and Sydney and Seamus joined the trio at the wrong time.

Sydney's obnoxious exclaims and actions were apparently enough to strike a nerve with Jocelyn, with poor Summer wanting nothing to do with this.

The moment things started heating up, Louis set down his books and took a slight step towards the blonde just as he was striding towards Jocelyn. It was better to end this before the adults came out and pulled everyone apart.

Louis leaned his head back just in time before he heard the dull thud of Jocelyn's fist slamming into Sydney's jaw. Just as quickly, the punch was returned with just as much hatred and force.

Great, now this situation just nosedived.

Louis groaned and stepped back before he got caught up in this, before his father walked out of the church and began scolding everyone for being indecent in front of the Church.

Luckily, before things resulted into a full-blown brawl, someone stepped in and placed a hand on Jocelyn's shoulder. Louis almost sighed in relief, already exhausted from all of the unnecessary drama this group has created.

The pastor's boy glanced up, recognizing the person who graciously paused the current problem from expanding into something worse.

Wesley Sutter- the one who always purchased the same cigarettes from Graymoor Groceries. Tall and intimidating, Louis is aware that they have never exchanged any form of conversation between each other. Louis just remembers all the times Cordelia would sneer as she talked about him and his strangeness.

It didn't matter, though- Louis was still about to thank him. He opened his mouth, but a new voice cut him off and shot through the group.

"Would you look at that, freaks turning on freaks,"

Cordelia. Of course, it was no shocker that the redhead wanted to partake in this. The girl came strolling in with her group, a smirk on her face that nearly made Louis turn away and head to the Church so he didn't have to listen to her ramble.

But instead, Louis clenched his jaw and crouched back down in order to pick up his bag and Bible. There was more bickering, Cordelia's hateful remarks irritating the group even more.

"Do you need to get socked in the face again, Sydney?"

"Charmeine, now is not the time," Louis said carefully, standing up as he straighten his back. He shot the majority of the people in the group a warning glare, shaking his head. "This fighting is pointless. We're supposed to be inside the Church right now, trying to solve the current problem involving a dead girl-"

The sudden sharp gust of wind causes everyone to become off guard, and Louis' expression falls into another frown as he stumbles back watches the sky darken up ahead. Louis furrowed his eyebrows, turning back to the group with a confused look.

"What in the world is that," he said slowly.

coding by cychotic


his certainly wasn't how Louis imagined his late morning to go.

He had simply wanted to make conversation with a couple people in order to ease off his nervousness, and it was going great at first- despite the insult from Jocelyn -but the next thing Louis knew voices began to grow and Sydney and Seamus joined the trio at the wrong time.

Sydney's obnoxious exclaims and actions were apparently enough to strike a nerve with Jocelyn, with poor Summer wanting nothing to do with this.

The moment things started heating up, Louis set down his books and took a slight step towards the blonde just as he was striding towards Jocelyn. It was better to end this before the adults came out and pulled everyone apart.

Louis leaned his head back just in time before he heard the dull thud of Jocelyn's fist slamming into Sydney's jaw. Just as quickly, the punch was returned with just as much hatred and force.

Great, now this situation just nosedived.

Louis groaned and stepped back before he got caught up in this, before his father walked out of the church and began scolding everyone for being indecent in front of the Church.

Luckily, before things resulted into a full-blown brawl, someone stepped in and placed a hand on Jocelyn's shoulder. Louis almost sighed in relief, already exhausted from all of the unnecessary drama this group has created.

The pastor's boy glanced up, recognizing the person who graciously paused the current problem from expanding into something worse.

Wesley Sutter- the one who always purchased the same cigarettes from Graymoor Groceries. Tall and intimidating, Louis is aware that they have never exchanged any form of conversation between each other. Louis just remembers all the times Cordelia would sneer as she talked about him and his strangeness.

It didn't matter, though- Louis was still about to thank him. He opened his mouth, but a new voice cut him off and shot through the group.

"Would you look at that, freaks turning on freaks,"

Cordelia. Of course, it was no shocker that the redhead wanted to partake in this. The girl came strolling in with her group, a smirk on her face that nearly made Louis turn away and head to the Church so he didn't have to listen to her ramble.

But instead, Louis clenched his jaw and crouched back down in order to pick up his bag and Bible. There was more bickering, Cordelia's hateful remarks irritating the group even more.

"Do you need to get socked in the face again, Sydney?"

"Charmeine, now is not the time," Louis said carefully, standing up as he straighten his back. He shot the majority of the people in the group a warning glare, shaking his head. "This fighting is pointless. We're supposed to be inside the Church right now, trying to solve the current problem involving a dead girl-"

The sudden sharp gust of wind causes everyone to become off guard, and Louis' expression falls into another frown as he stumbles back watches the sky darken up ahead. Louis furrowed his eyebrows, turning back to the group with a confused look.

"What in the world is that," he said slowly.
 
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vellichor.

winter storms
#20

JOCELYN X HALEY

"I mean I guess I can't blame you, I'd lash out at people too if everyone thought my mom was a slut."

Jocelyn clenched her fists against her side, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. "My mother," the words felt sour on Jocey's tongue, "is not plagued by delusions. My mother is not in a mental institution. My mother knows what she wants and gets it, while your mother doesn't even know if what she sees is real or not."

Jocelyn readied her fist once again that was still throbbing from the last punch, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She glanced beside her to meet Wesley's eyes.

"Don't tell me what to do," she muttered, shrugging out of his grip. Her anger wasn't directed at him, and regret instantly flooded her as the words escaped from her lips, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize.

"Would you look at that, freaks turning on freaks. Aren't misfits supposed to band together? I guess you are making the job on those of God's side easier, we don't even have to lay a finger on you, you'll eat each other up all by yourselves."

Jocelyn jerked towards the direction of the lilting voice. "You're a fucking menace, Sawyer," Jocelyn snapped, but she knew that Cordelia, that demon of a girl, would simply take it as a compliment. "You’re pitiful. You need the support of your little ring of brainwashed followers to seem all high and mighty of the freaks. Pathetic,” Jocelyn scoffed.

Before Cordelia could reply with some snappish retort, a sudden powerful breeze rushed across the field, sending Jocelyn stumbling and nearly losing her balance.

mood: being a bitch
outfit: hipster vibes
interaction: cordelia sawyer & louis shepherd & seamus winslow & summer lee & sydney winslow & wesley sutter
tags: @boyguro & @celloize & @sinbin & @soggychips & @xxxtentacion



coding by: diaphanous


"I mean I guess I can't blame you, I'd lash out at people too if everyone thought my mom was a slut."

Jocelyn clenched her fists against her side, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. "My mother," the words felt sour on Jocey's tongue, "is not plagued by delusions. My mother is not in a mental institution. My mother knows what she wants and gets it, while your mother doesn't even know if what she sees is real or not."

Jocelyn readied her fist once again that was still throbbing from the last punch, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She glanced beside her to meet Wesley's eyes.

"Don't tell me what to do," she muttered, shrugging out of his grip. Her anger wasn't directed at him, and regret instantly flooded her as the words escaped from her lips, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize.

"Would you look at that, freaks turning on freaks. Aren't misfits supposed to band together? I guess you are making the job on those of God's side easier, we don't even have to lay a finger on you, you'll eat each other up all by yourselves."

Jocelyn jerked towards the direction of the lilting voice. "You're a fucking menace, Sawyer," Jocelyn snapped, but she knew that Cordelia, that demon of a girl, would simply take it as a compliment. "You’re pitiful. You need the support of your little ring of brainwashed followers to seem all high and mighty of the freaks. Pathetic,” Jocelyn scoffed.

Before Cordelia could reply with some snappish retort, a sudden powerful breeze rushed across the field, sending Jocelyn stumbling and nearly losing her balance.
 
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