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( sommers, nina. )

One could only avoid catching up with old high school “pals” for so long. Being bond by mere proximity, it was was easy for Nina to accept that they had fallen apart, as such relationships naturally did. With all due respect, “we had first period together” was not a good enough thread to cling to. Perhaps the nature of each of Nina’s excuses being more anomalous than the last wasn’t enough of a hint. For heaven’s sake, how many made up dogs had to be sacrificed in the name of sweet ol’ solitude?

“I think that’s where sir google comes in handy,” Nina interjected, her tone as seemingly apathetic as she could muster. The young lady was, indeed, not speaking to her directly, but that’s never a reason not to butt in. To put it frank, Nina was bored out of her skull and was finding every reason on the wretched planet to avoid the ‘mistake’ she had gotten herself into. “Let’s see…,” she pulled up the friendly google search engine app and waited patiently for the one bar data connection to buffer. “So what brings you to Crescent Lake Lanes? The signature aroma of must and pent up sexual frustration? Or the recycled pizza?” Was her attempt at small talk. 

nancy raised a brow before turning to face the woman thinking, at first, that she was being condescending. there was a fine line in recommending a google search during conversation between being helpful and being a total jerk, but as the woman unlocked her phone nancy was relieved to see that she was being sincere if not a little dry. with her battery already in jeopardy, phone at 20% since she’d arrived and had the inevitable text conversation of being blown off with connie, nancy would just as soon not have used it at all and was grateful for the other’s search.

“uh, well, there’s not a lot to do in town i guess.” and there was no way in hell she was going out in the woods. those woods were like the haunted house at the end of some kids’ blocks growing up. she’d cut her teeth on horror stories about it and, paired with her job and the job her mom and grandpa did, she wasn’t planning on going anywhere creepier than the crescent lake lanes parking lot anytime soon. “i was supposed to meet a friend, but she bailed to hang out with her boyfriend who, coincidentally--” nancy smirked, raising a hand in another futile attempt at capturing the attention of the bowling alley attendant. “--smells a lot like recycled pizza and sexual frustration.”

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You (2018—) Created by Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble

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( martinez, valeria. ) 

VALERIA WAS QUICKLY LEARNING that crescent lake was not a very large town at all, and, due to that, there were limited ways to spend the day. she had thought that just sitting on the shores of the lake with a flask would be the perfect way to spend all days, but boredom crept in. she had to find ways to amuse herself. and THEN starting drinking. bowling wasn’t the most glamorous of activities, but hey, val figured it wouldn’t be the worst way to pass the time. she stood at the shoe counter, face wearing a grimace as she noticed some of the shoes being handed out seemed just as old as her grandmother. the brunette was distracted from this thought when someone else spoke up. 

“OH, i just thought the sizes were the same?” it was obvious from her answer that she was now questioning that assumption. “but if that’s wrong, i guess we can just give them back and get a different size.” and then she remembered just how long she was waiting for one pair of shoes. “or…MAYBE just play a game of bowling in ill-fitting shoes.” 

“i thought i heard someone say they were in men’s sizes, but i’m not sure if that’s true.” it had been a long time since she’d had to make the conversion. “i guess the clerk will probably help us, but considering how busy it is and how slow she moves--i don’t know if we’ll ever get a pair of shoes.” nancy had a slight edge in her voice--annoyed by how poorly staffed the place seemed to be that night. practiced at making her tone calm, the edge rarely came out despite nancy’s penchant for occasional cynicism. it came with the territory unfortunately, growing up with a house legacy of law enforcement and fielding 911 calls for twelve hour shifts at a time. “i wish i could just wear my sneakers.” she tutted, distractedly, glancing over at the snack bar. “i think i’m going to say uncle before i lose my damn mind. do you want a pretzel or a beer or something?”

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Is that what you say to yourself? That you’re so sorry for yourself that you can’t just fault your own behavior?

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( lockhart, persephone ).

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 in an ice cream shop had to be the most boring job the girl had had thus far in her short nineteen years of living. and although there was much more excitement in her previous occupations, if you could even call them that, she welcomed the quiet. in fact, she was relieved to be in a town where absolutely nothing exciting was happening at all. but, persephone was always a girl of mischief and after spending all day behind a counter, she couldn’t help but grin when she saw someone walking by. “hey you!” she called out to them, hopping up so she was sitting on the counter, legs dangling over the edge as she reached into the topping jar, plucking out a bright, red cherry and dangling it in front of her face. “how much do you wanna bet that i can tie this cherry stem with my tongue in less than thirty seconds?”

“uh, how about–” nancy scanned the flavors on the board before making a reliable decision. “--a scoop of rocky road on a waffle cone?” a tentative smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “i spent the summer of eighth grade perfecting that move, but i could never unwrap a starburst; that’s some determination and lingual dexterity.” or was it glossal dexterity? nancy was still stuck on the bones part of her anatomy class, which she’d hardly dedicated herself too–taking an incomplete so she could have a term off after receiving some disturbing calls at work. “i’ll take a pint of cherry chip, too.” that was for her mom at the sheriff’s office. the woman could use a break herself. “but that’s not part of the bet, i promise.”

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stood up yet again, by connie pryzbylewski, nancy stood in front of the bowling shoe rental with one hand on her hip and an heir of palpable annoyance with a edge of desperate confusion. she hadn’t gone bowling since she was nine and her dad was still trying to buy her affection. she hadn’t even wanted to go out, but connie had insisted and bailed at the last minute when, nancy presumed, she’d received a better offer by richie jones who was always sticking his hands down the back of connie’s jeans and calling her sugar in some tacky retro attempt at romance. 

it didn’t matter anyway, because now that she was out and standing inside the crescent lake lanes, she was honorbound to either buy a can of hamms or pbr and watch the bowling league wannabes work on their perfect games, or figure out which shoe size she wore in bowling shoes and play a game by herself--both of which made her seem more desperate than she cared for. with how busy it was, neither looked particularly likely as the attendant seemed to overlook her raised hand every time ( either conspiratorially with conne pryzbylewski  to ruin her night or, more likely, on accident among the fray ). sidling up next to another solitary patron at the counter, nancy tried her luck and cleared her throat. “uh, hey, so do you know what the conversion on sizes is for bowling shoes? the last time i came here, i think i had light-up sneakers.”

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( lana condor + cis female + she/her ) / who’s that rustling through the trees? oh, it’s just you, NANCY TRAN. i happen to know that you’re a TWENTY ONE year old DISPATCHER at the CRESCENT LAKE SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT. while you’re from RENO, NEVADA, you’re currently living in the NORTH CRESCENT NEIGHBORHOOD. i think that you’re TENDER & AGOG but my mama says you’re PRATTLING & IRRESOLUTE. is that OBEDEAR by PURITY RING currently playing on your spotify? well, turn it down please, you’re disrupting the peace. ( lucia + 31 + she/her + pst )

hello again, ladies and germs. this is nancy tran and i’m still lucia !! as promised, here is a little intro about nancy.

nancy tran is the only child of daniel and karen tran, whose mother and maternal grandfather have been part of the sheriff’s department since, seemingly, time immemorial. after high school, nancy took a job as a receptionist at the sheriff’s department to supplement her income while attending college part-time online. the part-time position was dissolved during a series of budget cuts and nancy moved onto a full-time 911 dispatch position within the department.

nancy’s parents divorced when she was eight and her father moved to vietnam to care for his sick parents when she turned thirteen. she’s lived with her mother and maternal grandfather since. while they are close, she feels constant pressure to major in criminal justice and return to the department as a sheriff’s deputy. nancy isn’t sure whether she’s interested in doing that or if she just thinks she is because of her family. regardless, she has no idea what she wants out of life.

after the recent rash of eerie 911 calls and rumors of someone out there with an axe to grind ( i’m so adorable and hilarious ), nancy is a little more reserved than she used to be. the job has made her a little more jaded, suspicious, but she’s still a tender-hearted girl at heart ( and yearns to share some of that hot sheriff’s dept gos ). 

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#relatable

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what do u mean i don’t have a social life I just went grocery shopping with my mom

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☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  NANCY TRAN.

☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  VISAGE. ☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  CHARACTER STUDY. ☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  WORDS. ☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  CONNECTIONS. ☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  THREADS. ☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  WANTED CONNECTIONS. ☏  . ˚ ◝  ––––––  AESTHETIC.