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moved to @repentulant / quick nav to tags.

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♤ ⋰ in a moment that's become a rarity in recent years, piper allows herself to melt into her mother's embrace. her main question is answered in an instant ; she's okay, unharmed in the ways the matter now. ❝ i can come in for a few. ❞ she assures, stepping into the house. ❝ he'll be home later, right ? it seems wrong for you to be alone right now, with everything happening. ❞

Charlotte leaned against the kitchen island, her head buzzing with exhaustion and anxiety. The coffee mug in her hand had gone cold, but she didn’t notice, she just stared mindlessly out the window, watching the wind blow and the leaves flutter down. Bear heard the visitor before the doorbell rang, and Charlotte dragged herself to answer it, certain she’d see either the sheriff or a deranged, masked murderer. But it was neither of the two- and the strangling numbness she’d been grappling with lifted at the sight of her daughter. Wordlessly, Charlotte pulled Piper into a hug, holding her close, eyes pricking with tears as the horror she’d felt the night before returned in full force. When she pulled away, she could hardly look Piper in the eye, terrified she’d break into sobs, and unwilling to put her daughter in a situation where she needed to comfort her mother. “Do you wanna come inside, Pipes? There's a pot of coffee in the kitchen, and I was just gonna to make dinner. Your dad's at work, so it'll just be the two of us.” 

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♤ ⋰ it's a fair point. but piper tends to regard bronte with a surge of emotion rather than calculated thought – a fact that's seemed to double post relationship. ❝ you could at least not write yourself into red creek history. ❞ piper complains. in her hands, she shakes the paper out like an old scroll. other people are surely mad that bronte hid a confrontation with daniela, to which piper definitely has questions about. but the immature part of her wins out that emotion with irritation that she could look good doing it. ❝ there are other ways if you must. entering the realm of murder suspect seems a bit insane. ❞

      the  flurry  of  blonde,  the  familiar  scent,  the  halo  that  the  sun  seemed  to  paint  behind  a  surprising,  but  not  unwelcome,  sight  as  exes  come  face  to  face  for  the  first  time  in  years.  she  almost  missed  the  words  spewed  at  her  just  from  the  mere  action  of  soaking  her  in.  biting  down  on  her  lip  to  hide  the  smile  that  threatened  to  greet  piper.  others  passed  by  bronte  with  accusations  but  the  youngest  talbot  held  no  shame  at  storming  towards  her  with  pride.  “  what's  the  question  here?  because  it's  no  secret  that  i  never  got  to  leave.  "

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♤ ⋰ she frowns ; the answer isn't what she's looking for. the inquisitive part of her brain would like to push her father for more information, though it's once again defeated by her desire to be like him. the art of non - answers is something to be studied, piper things. ❝ it's hard to not worry. alaina murdered, daniela missing– there's a common denominator between those two, y'know. like being a girl isn't scary enough. ❞ she tries a different approach, like appealing to her own hypothetical fears could pull more of a story from him. ❝ if i wanna do what you do, don't i need to think about it ? i mean, dad– people have called it dead creek. ❞

he's  caught  off-guard  by  his  youngest's  abrupt  arrival,  taken  aback  even  more  by  her  immediate  string  of  brazen  questions.  though  he  believed  himself  astute,  nathan  failed  to  realize  that  his  children  would  eventually  inherit  his  curiosity  —  his  desire  to  know,  and  know,  and  know.  it  shouldn't  come  as  a  shock  to  him  that  the  history  he'd  spent  half  his  life  burying  would  be  unearthed  by  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  and  yet  here  he  was,  trying  not  to  stumble  over  his  words  to  avoid  giving  piper  something  to  latch  on  to.  “  i  try  not  to  dwell  on  it,  ”  is  what  nathan  settles  on  telling  her;  the  closest  to  the  truth  that  doesn't  offer  anything  more.  but  try  is  an  operative  word,  at  least  in  the  meantime.  ever  since  alaina's  death,  it  seems  that  he's  been  sucked  right  back  to  1999,  the  familiar  paranoia  striking  him  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  if  history  is  truly  doomed  to  repeat  itself,  then  how  much  longer  until  the  next  body  inevitably  hits  the  ground?  until  people  start  pointing  fingers  again?  (  never  mind  if  they're  wrong.  )  “  . . .  and  i  suggest  you  do  the  same.  especially on things you don't need to be thinking about in the first place.  ”

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♤ ⋰ ❝ based on where they died, is more like it. ❞ piper scoffs, ❝ as opposed to your logic, which says i should mourn every person that i don't know ? ❞ she folds her arms, squinting as she looks over yasmine. it wouldn't be entirely implausible. though she made frequent trips home during college, she also stuck to a strict routine of those days off. ❝ her name was alaina. she used to babysit me. that's why i care. just– piss off if you can't wrap your brain around that. ❞

"so that makes them unimportant? you're already judging people based on where they were born?" it was a stretch, and they knew that wasn't what the blonde was saying. but their blood pressure was rising, their ears warming up. they were just itching to start an argument. because that would make everything better. "i've been here for years. hmph so this what those people who say they feel invisible experience. first for everything." last words mumbled. lies for nothing more than to stoke the fire. "of course not. she was like middle-aged." body straightened, shoulders back, the old haughty air surrounding them once again.

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Zehra Naqvi, from The Knot of My Tongue: Poems and Prose; “Grocery Shopping”

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🔒 closed starter for bronte // @lifekisses

♤ ⋰ this morning's copy of the register lies hot in her hands, her hold on it so tight that her knuckles turn white. it's not even the scandal that has her reeling at the moment — it's bronte. picture front & center, never mind the fact that she's mid - argument with the missing daniela estrada. ❝ so much for leaving red creek. ❞ the way she approaches bronte is hasty, pointing a rolled up newspaper at her with nothing short of venom. everyone has surely had words with her already, but now it's piper's turn. ❝ front & center of the fucking register. like— what the hell, b ? ❞

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🔒 closed starter for nathan / / @enternights 📍 red creek town hall.

♤ ❝ do you think all history is doomed to repeat itself, or is that left up to only the bad stuff ? ❞ piper asks, just as she pushes her way into her father's office. better to head straight to a source that experience the last trials of red creek. ❝ i mean– do you remember what the town felt like last time around ? it started with a girl named heather, right ? ❞ there's no need for her to ask the question, might as well be one of red creek's personal historians.

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♤ she raises a brow— a silent question: what were you running from or to?— but it's almost a relief to hear that the department didn't pluck him from a pool of random suspects. that there's a tangible ( & explainable ) reason behind it. she doesn't prod on the interview — there's no part of piper that would question her brother's innocence in the matter. not a cell in her body that would consider him capable of taking someone's life. his investigative mind lay lead him down questionable road, may even place them in the killer's shoes, but only for a few steps.

❝ well, they should grasp at other straws. leave you out of it. ❞ it's uncomfortable to think anyone they know could be part of it. she huffs, an impossible protective thread running from the youngest talbot to the oldest. although with kieran's next words, she must tie the thread off— apparently, mom & dad aren't safe from all suspicion. in true sibling fashion, she taps at the phone screen— all seemingly innocent information gathered about their mother, however sparse. she averts her eyes back to his own. ❝ a little weird, i guess. i don't know if i've ever really asked. ❞

the answer minimizes the way her head swarms with questions– like it always does when she unites with her older brother. no stone left unturned, she supposes. ❝ maybe weirder that i never even thought to ask. i mean, don't people usually offer something about their childhood ? do you think she like– escaped from something ? ran from it ? ❞

ꜜ ﹙ ⚰️  ﹚ ﹕ it should come to no surprise that his youngest sister hounded him with questions, both of them harboring minds ripe with curiosity ⸻ often rabid in their search for answers, prowling the deepest recesses of their town, sinking their teeth into the foulest of leads. but at least she was redeemable ﹕ in the eyes of their father, in the eyes of the town their family was cursed to serve. and part of him envied her baby sister, how she could stomach all the idle porch talk and the agog stares of townsfolk whenever they saw a talbot, but he was ultimately just glad to absolve her of the same fate as him. he was the black sheep. the creep, the freak, the weirdo. and he'd happily serve himself up as their next jacob thorne if it meant saving anyone he cared about from the hungry eyes looking to gnaw on another's ruin to stave off their own guilt ﹕ let them carve him apart piece by piece, dress him up with blame, and sustain themselves with the meat of his sacrifice. how else would a town like this survive ? one of them might be a killer, but kieran knew that almost everyone here had other secrets that they'd like to keep buried than answer the hollow growls of their conscience. “ some deputy probably saw me running down the street in the middle of the night. they might have thought i was running from something. ” well, either that or they knew about him trespassing into thorne house yet again, or when he broke into the cemetery with finch, or maybe they saw him climbing into taylan's window past curfew. it was a certainly a long night. but while some details blurred and waned, kieran doubted that any of his crimes were as terrible as bloody murder. “ i think they're just grasping at straws. just like twenty-five years ago when they indulged that witch hunt against jacob thorne. ” kieran shrugged, doubting that the department possessed any kind of evidence to pin the crime on anyone yet. “ taylan might become a person of interest, but hopefully i took care of that before it could become a thing. ” hopefully being the operative word, unsure whether his statement would line up with all the others. still, words rolled off his tongue nonchalantly, didn't offer much more as he began checking out something on his phone. “ i've been running point on getting more information on the people who were actually alive during the 1999 murders, and while dad is more likely to be suspected ... ” a pause as he showed piper his phone, a nearly empty folder labeled [ charlotte talbot ] on screen. a low incredulous chuckle slipped past his lips, seemingly amused at himself for being entertaining the thought. he didn't think their mother could hurt a fly, but she could definitely be keeping a secret. “ obviously not the killer. but isn't it weird that we literally don't know anything about mom's life before she moved here ? ”

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♤ piper groans out loud, swatting a decorative pillow in avery's general direction. ❝ maybe you can talk about the murder if you swear to never put 'dad' and 'panty' in the same sentence ever again. ❞ the same pillow is held in an embrace against her now, providing a bit of comfort. ❝ like– a scary one ? or a little yapper ? a dog s ' probably a really good idea, all things considered. ❞

in normal circumstances avery would be appalled. this true crime stuff was like a drug to her but she adored piper, even if she was a little jealous of her naturally blonde hair. she sits on the arm of the couch and pats her sister's head. " hmm, where to begin. i was doing laundry earlier and finch told me he thinks dad is a panty thief. i was almost alarmed but he feeds five course meals to fish so he really can't be trusted. oh -- i'm getting a dog! "

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Elizabeth Spires, Snail Revisited

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🔒 closed starter for charlotte / / @clandestone 📍 charlotte's residence, november 1.

♤ confirmations of a halloween murder have filtered through red creek since the police tape went up. knowing it was true, that it was alaina price, that daniela estrada has been missing for weeks now— both women that she knew. it leaves an uncomfortable lump in piper's throat, something she can't quite uncover how to remove. apparently, it also leads her here: straight to her mother's doorstep. when she left her own apartment, she accepted a small mission – to check on all the woman near & dear to her own heart. she rings the doorbell, then takes a step back, hesistant. ( i just need to see, she thinks, that's all. )

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🔒 closed starter for avery / / @ichorstained 📍 piper's apartment on saber street.

♤ ❝ can you please talk to me like it's a totally normal week in a totally boring town ? ❞ piper pleads, falling onto her couch with a sigh. it's unsettling enough to live through the tragedy itself, much less listen to everyone's attempt at a diy interrogation. ❝ i feel like my brain is two more theories away from self imploding. ❞

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♤ ❝ afraid you may have a warped sense of feminism, foz. too many final girl tropes running around in that head of yours, maybe ? ❞ piper replies, partnered with a facetious roll of her eyes. an unsettling thought follows: two possible victims if daniela is included, creating a profile of women only. ❝ though i'll be sure to send the sheriff's office your way if the victim pool widens. ❞ partial regret as soon as the words leave her mouth, as if she's just doomed the town to another morbid discovery.

he manages to pull a laugh from her at the accusation, ❝ we'd be somethin' to fear— with all the bite of a toy poodle, right ? ❞ that feeling returns alongside her jest — joking about anyone harming alaina leaving an awful taste in her mouth. it's replaced with visible intrigue when foster mentions a goddamn documentary. something real to follow the story as it unfolds. ❝ if you're going to showcase the truth, right up there is a good place to start. ❞ she nods to alaina's home, just beyond the police tape. almost like a dare to step forward. ❝ bet they breezed through it and set their minds on someone with really even looking. ❞

🎥 NOT CLICKBAIT ﹕  FOSTER DASGUPTA IS NOT THE KILLER, 100% REAL ( EMOTIONAL ), but an obligatory sneer still tugged at his lips at piper's sardonic jest, his gaze falling upon the police tapes that still fluttered nearby, cheap plastic presented like some symbol of safety. he might not have been here for the original murders, but he knew well enough that things would just be as complicated in this sequel ⸻ only just moving on from the opening kill, the real bloodbath yet to commence. “ c'mon, you gotta give me some credit here. i'd sneak up on boys, too. i'm a modern day feminist, pipes. equal opportunity for all potential murder victims. ” a danger-hungry smile on his lips, half a mind to paint himself as a suspect just to feel the rush of adrenaline and finally having a valid reason to feel forsaken. there was a semblance of surprise across his features when the youngest talbot actually entertained the question, a small laugh slipping past his lips. “ if we're looking at the opposite end of the spectrum then the killer might as well be hana. ” a charming former reality tv star with an air of superficiality to her that no one would really suspect. but if alaina price couldn't fight off a woman that could barely pass a rollercoaster's height requirement, then she probably deserved to be dead. “ but if hana's a killer, then she's probably working with someone else : and my bet is you. two short ladies, stack them together in a trench coat and you make one whole killer. ” tongue clicked, mostly joking, didn't know enough about the daniela or alaina to throw any real accusation. even creature feature was just a thingamajig of anecdotes and parables, no real investigative feat there from his end, except for the parts touched by kennedy. “ if i make a thing out of this, it wouldn't be some nightmare-fuel podunk creepypasta anymore .... it'd be a goddamn documentary. ” but maybe that was what red creek needed, something that would give everyone a good look at themselves. and foster looked at her, a slow smile pulling the corners of his lips upwards as he considered the thought. “ but i guess there's nothing scarier than the truth sometimes. ”

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SABRINA CARPENTER. Emails I Can't Send Fwd.

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🔒 closed starter for kieran / / @gorebound ⏰ sometime after his questioning.

♤ ❝ did the cops really call you in for questioning ? ❞ no time for pleasantries or hellos, this has been grating at her since she heard the first murmur of it across town. gossip of the town has never fallen on deaf ears ; piper knows the way they whisper about anyone out of the norm — knows that her brother could find his way onto the town's suspect list just for the crime of being introverted & curious. as someone who has dug her way into the town's history ( even the unpleasant parts ) for the sake of looking after a place her future is tied up in, she dreadfully knows that her brother could find his way onto the town's suspect list just for the crime of being introverted & curious. it's enough to pull a frustrated reaction from her. ❝ i mean— did they have a reason ? where'd you stick your nose this time ? because if they're just– pointing fingers already– i swear to god. ❞