(  Harris Dickinson  .  Agender  .  they/them  )  .    ⸻  maksym "mak" Kisková  ,  A  twenty-six

" well, it was a fight that's what ... " damon shouldn't be a smartass right now, but they'll blame the adrenaline crash. hands, clammy and head rightfully throbbing from a bottle crack. yeah, they're not exactly their best self. a thumb lifts to swipe at their nose ring. at least it wasn't ripped out, that would be a real pain. " well. guy shoved me. had some real force into it— mix in some good ol' jack daniels ... and bada bing you got yourself a fight. "

there's a pause with their eyes glancing down at the med kit. " look, vanessa, already put another on shitshow on halloween ... really don't think i need that. " gestures to the first aide. " probably should just suck it up and go home. " they feel a slight drip of blood down their forehead. pauses. " on second thought ... yeah. yeah, maybe. " they move from the doorframe to leave against a wall, hunching down to make it a bit easier. " i'm sorry, really. swear i ain't ... you know, like that. haven't caused shit on your shift in a minute. we cool? "

❝ ⸻ WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ? ❞ vanessa's day off and out of all nights and situation , a fight breaks out . Everyone knew she had a no fighting policy in the bad .... AT LEAST WHEN SHE WAS WORKING . not only did a fight breaking out looked bad for business , killed the vibes of the bar , and such , but she simply wanted everyone to leave the bar on a feel good note . with the first aid kit in her hand , vanessa motioned for him to follow and sit , away from everyone .

❝ how did the fight even started ? ❞ one minute she heard chatter about the body found and small laughs here and there , and the next thing she heard was a glass breaking before she broke up the fight and threatened to kick both asses . Something everyone knows she could do . ❝ Let me help you ❞

# 𝗖𝟬𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗗𝗢𝗧𝗦

dependent blog for @ redcreekfm . the ink on the paper is running ...

𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗜𝗘 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗗 — thirty3. journalist @ the register. willa fitzgerald. 𝗗𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗗𝗘𝗟 𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗘 — thirty. tattoo artist @ devil's ink. samuel larsen. 𝗔𝗕𝗘𝗟 𝗗'𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗢 — fifty. co-owner of redstone bar. laz alonso. 𝗠𝗔𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗞𝗢𝗩𝗔 — twenty6. nurse @ red creek hospital. harris dickinson.

DAPHNE BLAKE, played by the journalist herself . . . effie floyd ! coming to a red creek halloween party near you! template cred.

maksym is far from a frequent flier at redstone ; embodies a distant fly on the wall. present, aware, but perched unmoving against the drywall out of sight. this the opposite of their other half. he, present on the stage with bloodied fingers from the strings, rhythm piercing the already buzzed atmosphere. mak is the oddity here, but who the fuck wasn't an oddity in this town anymore? still it lingers in the corner of their mind just how strange they feel in a bar. unwilling to make eye contact with other patrons as if it'd burn. disinterested in musical commodities such as the band ( or, maybe, just because it welcomed finch ). yet they linger. fly, shadow. anything except a person.

they sit with one whiskey neat and eyes glued to the yellow-tint of their phone screen. it's just something for them to do, bade their time as they drown a misplaced discomfort blooming beneath ribs. it doesn't have a name — mak isn't trying to find it either. they don't notice the this time real shadow looming over them. the figure cast by the low light against the counter ignored. just some other resident. someone looking to burn what lurks beneath murky waters with something stronger.

as the old story goes — it wasn't just some fucking resident.

taylan speaks into their space on purpose, he must. mixes in his volatile presence with their still water. it doesn't startle mak, not necessarily, but it births a new gnawing. their tongue clicks in wordless response, fingers tapping against the drained glass. bored? " bored. " it's a scoff, cousin of a mean laugh. mak doesn't grace taylan with the generosity of a full acknowledgement. tilts their head in a similar way, just barely, encroaching into his space like a quiet challenge. eyes obscured by the hike of their shoulder. the problem with being a nurse in red creek, and red creek in general, was being known. even if their brother wasn't a frequent body with taylan they're sure they'd be noticed still. small town. only hospital. they need out of this fucking place, but they haven't found the open window. " was me not fixing your dumbass up at the hospital enough? " caustic in its own way ; biting without the connection of teeth. fuck, they need another drink. two finger wave towards the bartender and they receive another liquid pacifier. it'd never be liquid courage, they aren't in need of that shit. " i'll bite, taylan. what kind of entertainment you offering? besides the threat of a headache. "

where : redstone bar status : closed for @c0nnectdots

redstone bar thrums with its usual chaos - laughter curling into the sharp notes of a jukebox tune , the slap of cards against table , the steady thud of boots against the floorboards . the air is thick with the tang of spilled whiskey , and a haze of distractions that fails to reach him . taylan stands just inside the doorway , the noise washing over him in waves , but doing nothing to sate the gnawing ache in his chest . it’s an insatiable hunger - the kind no drink or idle conversation can dull . his muscle plead for stillness , but his sinews stretch taut , coiled with restless energy that drives him forward . his chest burns hot - a bitterness festering , like old gear abandoned in the shadows of a rink , forgotten and rusting away . the ache lives too deep , a rot he can’t scrape out , a void that won't be satisfied by anything less than destruction . his eyes flick to the far end of the bar , landing on mak . wrong twin . finch would’ve been a guarantee of chaos , a devil perched on his shoulders , whispering bad ideas into his ear . mak , though , is all stiff-backed judgement , more locked door than partner in crime . taylan moves toward him anyway , his shadow dragging heavy across the floorboards . when he reaches the bar , he doesn’t sit . he looms , shadow pooling over mak's sharp shoulders . for a moment , he says nothing , doesn't even look at them , just signals for a drink . the sharp clink of glass against the counter cuts through the noise . then , with the barest tilt of his head , taylan leans in close enough to crowd their space . “ you look bored . ” he murmurs , low and sardonic , curling between them like smoke . “ let me fix that . ”

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

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

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

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

FOR : vicente ! @newwayin. LOCATION : sister's of the moon.

" trust me, vic, i'm good on all ... that. " abel quirks his head towards the side at the sign reminding customers about tarot cards and all things mystic. really, has never felt the draw to this side of the town, but friendships lead you to some strange fucking places. " sounded like you were gonna go on a mile long run when you called me. shit, need to take a jog? said you were off in a bit. " vicente, vicente, he was always the type to get wrapped up in his head. a sensitive soul left in the world. had a bit of a soft spot for him — his natural fucking opposite, or so abel thinks. " can't guarantee i can clear your head, but misery loves company or something like that. "

Okay maybe mama did raise a fool

( willa fitzgerald . cis woman . she / her ) ⸻  effie floyd , a thirty - three year old , has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for five years . the spitfire is known for being observant and outspoken and is often associated with string  connecting  on  the  corkboard  between  newspapers  new  and  old  and  people  around  hidden  in  the  recesses  of  the  mind  ,  speaking  first  and  asking  questions  later   /   words  are  a  fire  on  the  tongue  and  passion  a  flaw  and  a  reward  ,   strong  and  steady  hands  doesn't  mean   they  don't  shake  /  it's  just  hard  to  see  it  if  you're  not  looking . in a small town where they work as a journalist at the register word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that [ THIS PAGE CANNOT BE FOUND ].

full name: effie lianne floyd. nickname(s): ef. age: thirty - three. zodiac sun sign: virgo. birth date: september 15th. gender & orientation: cis woman, she + her & bisexual. place of birth: philadelphia, pennsylvania. occupation: journalist for the register. familial ties: estranged from her family back in philly. has one younger brother. height: 5'5".

CHARACTER INSPOS : gale weathers ( scream ), shinya kogami ( psycho - pass ), miranda priestly ( the devil wears prada ), madeline usher ( fall of the house of usher )

FAST FACTS ⸻

left philly due to an explosive fight with her mother and discovering that she had been cheating on her father for years. she'd always felt there was something off about her mother's relationship with her father and almost became obsessive with uncovering her suspicions. at twenty-six, she discovered the truth after following her mother on one of her "girls' night out". due to the rift this formed in the house, effie decided to take her journalism degree and relocate. she's been on the move since this rift and keeps no contact with her family members. instead, she throws herself into work.

before settling in red creek, effie took up plenty of brief stays throughout different towns. her interest in stories and tales guiding her heart from place to place. she holds a keen eye and knack for sleuthing, often landing her either in trouble or an acclaimed column within papers or online journaling sites. in a way, maybe she is more comparable to a private investigator. however, she tries not to throw herself that deep into her interests. key word: tries.

her interest in red creek soared at the mention of the killings and the growing tension of potential resurgence. before her move here, she had began taking an interest in true crime and specifically cold cases and urban legends. she has a journal of things of note surrounding motives and rumors. a part of her thinks her mind is infallible and can be useful in areas seperate from recording daily lives and new trends within journalism.

her personality can be a bit stifling towards new people. direct, haughty and hypervigilant it's hard to feel like you're not being studied. she separates her friends and private life as best as she can, but effie is nothing but obsessive.

potential for more tba . .. ..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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