sinkinglxve

[sinkinglxve]

Red Creek is not a bustling metropolis, or a pinnacle of natural beauty that she's come to see in her rotation of hubs. But it's been a half-decent home in the last four years. And something about its aura; the seediness, the danger, even the off-the-cuff judgements of its people? It resonates with her. Sipping her vodka tonic, the deputy laughs at the sudden jump. "I hadn't noticed." Midori answers, straight-faced and seemingly commanding. But she's never fit the profile of her role well, and she's the first to roll her eyes at the kid's accusation. "For the department's sake, let's not put you in charge of questioning." Then again, maybe Carlos is brilliant in the simplicity of their question. Regardless, she slides into the seat beside them. "I wouldn't joke about it, though." At least, not in public. Whoever else could be listening?

𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘.　behind redstone bar, 11:30pm 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛.　anyone

𝗿𝗲𝗱  𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗸  𝗶𝘀  𝗮  𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗸  𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲.  no  matter  how  much  carlos  tells  himself  he  should  leave,  that  there  are  so  many  reasons  he  should  get  the  hell  out  and  return  to  life  as  he  knew  it  (  despite  the  potential  consequences  they  could  face  if  ever  ████████  )  they  stay.  carlos  stays,  trapped  between  its  tragic  grasp  and  forced  to  watch  its  horrific  history unfold.  under the impression of being alone, carlos  jumps  at  the  sudden  noise,  nearly  dropping  the  cigarette  held  between  their  fingers.   “  jesus,  f  —  dude!  you  can't  be  doing  that  anymore,  there's  like,  a  killer  out  and  shit!  ”  brief pause,  eyes  narrow  at  the  person  standing  before  him.  it  doesn't  help  that  his  response  to  all  this  is  misplaced  carelessness,  the  kind  that  could  make  you  the  first  kill  in  a  horror  flick  —  not  the  kid  who  trips on air,  but  the  one  who  stands  face  to  face  with  the  killer  and  laughs  in  disbelief.  “  unless  . . .  the  killer's  you.  is  it  you?  ”

[sinkinglxve]

(  sonoya mizuno  .  cisgender female  .  she/her  )  .    ⸻  midori yamoto  ,  a  thirty two  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  four years  .  the  great pretender is  known  for  being  resourceful  and  self-destructive  and  is  often  associated  with  the synchronicity of her heartbeat with the music as she hits her runner’s stride, a lifetime’s worth of sins hidden in plain sight inside a messy drawer, and the sleeves of a deputy’s uniform that never quite fit right  .  in  a  small  town  where  they  work  as deputy  word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that  redacted

tw: death, crime.

It starts, as it so often does, with a man's folly. A commercial pilot's affair with a hotel maid, in between flights, that sets an unknowing chain reaction. A piece of a baby's history that would be forgotten and made irrelevant, by the time she's picked up by a social worker at the local hospital. Proof, Midori would claim later in life, that life is a person's own - the pieces of history that makes it can be made irrelevant with the right measures.

Always a rambunctious and rebellious kid, she always challenged the status quo - at school, at the group home, even on the rough streets of Chicago's south side. She was barely eight when she learned her first, and maybe most relevant, life lesson; sting first. Her life might not look like everyone else's. But no one could ever say that shewasn't a fighter, or that she would allow the uncertainty of her circumstances to define her.

Yet in spite of the chip on her shoulder, or the many punches thrown in the school yard - the Yamoto family picks her. A teenager now, all of fourteen-years-old, with a bad attitude and a sorry excuse for a school record. The Yamoto's were unlike anything she'd ever experienced; understanding, generous, all without ever judging her. For six months, she knew what it felt like to have a home. So she ignored the oddness of the situation; how she and her foster sister looked like mirror images of the Yamoto's biological daughter, lost before her time. The specifics of the ghost, so spot on, one would have to blink to miss it.

If the Yamoto family's biggest sin is looking for their daughter in other wayward girls - could they really be judged?

It was on a family trip to a cabin up north when things turned awry. A slippery road, a dangerous path. She forgets the horrors of that night. Only remembers the sound of screaming, before silence.

What's a girl left to do but take what she can, and run?

The pieces left behind by the Yamoto family are enough to build her a new, better life outside of the system. Even going so far as to join Chicago's police force, constable Yamoto. Why not put her spitfire nature and propensity for going too far, into something productive? Inevitably, though, her past continues to haunt her. And so, she moves; the dry deserts of Arizona, the crisp air of Rhode Island, before finally landing a spot as a deputy in the small town of Red Creek, Michigan. A place to go, where her past can't follow.

Besides, it's fitting, is it not? A place that's a shell of itself, desperate to run towards but also away from its past? Midori spent the better part of four years cementing herself as a deputy in the sheriff's office. The loud mouth. The brass knuckles. The first to throw an accusation. Isn't it time Red Creek brought in a hot head to right some wrong's? And if Midori can run from hers in the process... Well, then isn't this home now, too?

[sinkinglxve]

@redcreekfm dependent.

midori yamoto (sonoya mizuno fc)