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Post by Avery on Mar 14, 2014 16:52:33 GMT -5
This post was initially several different threads: one per each round, plus a zero round and epilogue, for a total of ten threads. They have since, obviously, been merged. All bold posts are Narrator posts, to be differentiated from non-Narrator posts made by myself (Carrie), which are non-bold and are instead me RP'ing my own NPC character. Below, you'll find handy links to the start post for each round, excepting round zero, because um, this is the start post for round zero. >__> Here is the town map, drawn by the lovely Kristykimmy, plus key:  KEY
2Channel 24 News Studio & Associates
3Prints in the Sand
4Melanie's Menagerie
5Healing Hearts Vet Clinic
6Stop. Glamour Time!
7Stitch in Time Clothing & Shoe Boutique
8Starlight Teahouse
9Everington Cakes Unlimited
10Building Negative Zero
11The Burger Hut
13Dywight Antiques
14Aifam Morgue
15Seeds of Love
16The Aifam Moviehouse
17Sirensong Steakhouse
18Aifam Cove Post & Banking
19The Stallion Inn
20Doctor Stabstrike Family Medicine
21Aifam Accounting
24Tabloid County Municipal Library (Aifam Cove Branch)
25Aifam Grocers and General Store
26That Place With The Stuff
27And To Think I Saw It (on Stalberry Street) And here, in no particular order, is the town roster. I'll leave out the death order and roles so a first-time reader doesn't get spoiled. The character name comes first, followed by the player's name in parentheses. There were 25 total players, and two separate, competing mafias, with 4 members apiece. The mafias names were Abominable Aifam and Chill of the Night. The rest of the roles were: one Constable; one Bomb; one Chemist; one Mad Constable; and the rest Innocent Villagers. 1. Nathan Lukas (Nova)
2. Kylie Devon (GLQ)
3. Fella C. Rapture (Coaster)
4. Leland G. Bardsley (PFA)
5. Christopher Dylans (Maddy)
6. Dakota Taylor Allen (Lizzie)
7. Piper Boudreaux (Lizica)
8. Hermia Smith (Birdy)
9. Jack Ryan Smith (Draco)
10. Melanie Porter (Sporty)
11. Siddhi Khaoti (Chao)
12. Mr. Stal (Stal)
13. Lindsey Lukas (Ginz)
14. Alma Mathers-Fitzgibbon (Cassie)
15. Khiran Chander (Selm)
16. Anna Dywight (Kristy)
17. Travis Richem (Jay)
18. Cheryl Roxanne Lewis (Tiger)
19. Aaron Greenhand (Kozma)
20. Dr. Marie Robinson (Alyssa)
21. Leopold Endicott (Liou)
22. Sister Lucille Erata (Celestial)
23. Miko Shamen (Tjwagner)
24. Winston Teakes (Diana)
25. Liliana Parker (Pixie)
Before…
It was, by all accounts, an ordinary town. A nice one even, depending on who you asked—nestled on a high cliff overlooking the Netwah Sea; its beaches comprised of fine-grained sand and studded with small, stone caves that flooded at high tide; boasting a bustling Main Street filled with charming shops and businesses, and residential alcoves chock-full of storybook houses that sported wind-around porches and brightly coloured walls.
Its name was Aifam Cove.
In the summertime—tourist season—its population could swell to several thousand, as people flocked to Aifam for those aforementioned beaches, the fantastic fishing, and the nature trails that twisted like ivy tendrils to the north, south, and west (the Netwah Sea was to the east). Summer cottages rented at a premium, and the town’s inn, The Stallion, was at capacity more often than not.
But in winter, things grew grey. Snow accumulated at a seemingly unending pace, with drifts rising chest-high by the time New Year came. Sunlight was at a premium, and the winds could freeze your skin right off if you let them. That contingent of summer tourists darted back home, leaving Aifam Cove with a skeleton population of hardy year-rounders: the business proprietors, the hometown homebodies, the backbone of the Cove.
It was, by all accounts, an ordinary town.
**
They rose in the night—not in the blink of an eye, but slowly. So slowly you might have missed it, had you not been looking. And most people weren’t. Most people didn’t notice, at least not until it was too late.
It started with vandalism, near the end of the tourist season, when the days were still bright and reasonable. Bashed storefront windows and walls tagged with paint began to spring up like weeds—but these innocuous irritants were quickly replaced by more maleficent misdeeds. Burglaries. Assaults. At first, the permanent residents of the Cove thought it was bored summer visitors, teenagers probably; but then summer went away, and things just got worse. As the leaves on the trees changed, so too did the town.
And soon it became very clear that it was not one single offender—nor even a single group. There were two factions, competing with each other. Mafia.
Mafias.
This word spread through Aifam Cove like wildfire. They’d heard of mafias, of course. Of terrible acts in faraway towns named after nets and breakfast foods. Murders that transformed peaceful villages into bloodbaths.
But that would not happen, here. They were fighters up in Aifam. They would not let criminals defile their beloved city, nor kill the residents who lived in it. And if these mafias tried, well—the citizens of Aifam Cove would do everything they could to stop it. So what if the town Constable had recently retired, and no one had dared volunteer to replace him? Even if the rumors of two new Constables—acting independently of each other, under the cover of night, so as to minimize the risk to themselves—proved false, the citizens would act together to stop this terror. And they’d do it before their town devolved into a war zone, as had happened to those other places.
Aifam, after all, was not like other places.
**
It was the second of January, a few hours before dawn. Spent fireworks languished in the town square, half-buried in snowdrifts, and strings of Christmas lights still blinked from the buildings that lined Main Street. The digital announcement board in front of Town Hall, which had the temperature at the top, read a brisk 13F. Striding down the road on her way to open Everington Cakes Unlimited, where she worked, Enna Tweff noted the temperature and frowned.
She didn’t like that number—13. She’d never been much of a superstitious woman, but these days, most everyone in Aifam found bad omens everywhere. That was thanks to the mafias. Abominable Aifam and Chill of the Night, they were calling themselves, or so went the whispers. They’d both been unusually quiet over the past few weeks, probably on account of the holidays, but Enna and the other residents of Aifam Cove knew it was only a matter of time before they started up again. And though few would say it, there was a general consensus of fear that once they resumed their misdeeds, those misdeeds would… bloom, in a way.
Reach a new, violent plateau.
Enna didn’t like these rumors.
At the front door of the cake shop, she paused to dig her keys out of her coat pocket. She visually scanned the area before she did so, if only out of habit, and her stomach flipped when she realized that she was not alone on this street. Four others stood a few yards away from her, loitering under the overhang in front of Starlight Teahouse, which was next to Everington Cakes. This was unexpected, given the time of day. The rest of the other shops on Main Street were still shuttered, the Cove’s residents asleep.
Except for these four people, and her.
Enna was bundled up, but compared to these people, she might as well have been naked. They had scarves wrapped up to their noses and wore bulky, androgynous coats. She narrowed her eyes at them, and her stomach did another flip. Keys in the lock, she said to herself. But before she could fumble them into the keyhole, the strangers took a step towards her.
“Nice morning, isn’t it?” one said, voice obscured on account of the scarf. Enna couldn’t even tell if they were male or female, not that it mattered much.
“You have a funny definition of nice,” Enna replied, finally aligning the key correctly. She twisted it.
As she did, the four individuals closed the distance between them and Enna. By the time the woman nudged open the door leading into the shop, they were at her side. Her last thought was: I hope they aren’t who I think they are.
They were.
She wasn’t found until an hour or so later, by the owner of Starlight Teahouse when he came to open his own business. By then, Enna’s blood had tainted the snow red. Her finder didn’t need to take a pulse. One look at her, and it was obvious she was past saving.
As daylight broke, a cluster of people formed around Enna’s body. Shocked. The mafias! Had they really escalated to murder? Some called for vengeance—justice!—but others rebuffed this notion. Surely this had been a fluke. A one-time occurrence. Perhaps they’d tried to rob her, and Enna had fought back, and the murder had merely been… a side effect.
It wouldn’t happen again.
Would it? |
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Post by Nova on Mar 14, 2014 17:38:14 GMT -5
"You call this orange pekoe?!" the customer screamed. "It tastes like the freaking SWINE FLU!"
Nathan Lukas, the proud owner of Starlight Teahouse nodded understandingly. "I am very sorry! I try to brew only the best tea leaves one can buy. I would be more than happy to give you another tea of your choice on the house, as well as a free voucher on your next visit. Would that be okay?" It was ten at night on the first of January, and he was more than ready to close shop.
The middle-aged man grumbled, and simply grabbed his tea and walked out of the shop. There were very few tourists in the winter months, almost surprising that this rough man ventured all the way to Aifam's Cove in the deep snow. Nathan relied on trusting townsfolk to get by in the off season, and as the most popular go-to place for meetings, catching up with friends and relatives, or simply to warm up with a hot cup of tea, he never had to worry. Even during the deadest month of the year he still turned up a tidy profit.
But Nathan didn't like being yelled at, just like another other worker in the customer service field. He turned off the neon open sign, and grabbed a doll from the cupboard underneath the counter. Ah, Nathan was fond of dolls. Not barbie dolls, no. Something his great aunt taught him when he was little. A bit of straw, some magic wax, an article of clothing or something belonging to a particular person... and it was playtime.
Nathan had noticed a hair fall onto his counter when the man got upset at his most divine cup of tea. He placed it on his ready-made doll, picked up a needle and thread and started humming his favorite tune while stitching the doll's mouth shut. Oh, how Nathan hummed as he stitched! After all, a man who talked so rudely should never be allowed to talk again. No one knew of this, of course. Not even his twin sister. He had heard of the mafia uprising in the towns of Netwaffle and Wafflenet, and he knew he'd be the first feast for the crows if the residents of Aifam ever knew his secret. He rarely did this, of course. And it was for the town's own good, it was only ever directed to worst of the tourists. The horrible tourists who made life difficult for the residents of the Cove, they weren't wanted.
After disposing of the doll into the cozy fireplace on the far wall in the shop, he locked the doors, and went home for the night and had a sound sleep. The next morning when he was on his way to reopen was when he discovered the body of the Enna Tweff, he gasped in shock and horror.
"HELP!" he screamed down Main Street. "SOMEBODY HELP! ANYBODY!" He pounded on the door of the neighboring business, Everington Cakes Limited. "Sister? Are you in there?!"
He looked back at the body.
His large earl gray two sugar lay dead in the crimson snow.
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Post by Gelquie on Mar 14, 2014 17:39:51 GMT -5
Cla-clop, cla-clop, cla-clop, cla-clop.
The sound of hooves pounding pavement echoed in the ears of the town's residents on Fawlton street. A cursory glance at the source of the noise revealed a slightly freckled woman on top of a horse, emerging onto the road from one of the nearby trails. She wore a jacket with muted green and red colors, close to the skin and somewhat hardened, but nevertheless warm. She took one gloved hand off the reins and messed with the ponytail holding back her somewhat short, ginger, curly hair, while taking care not to shift around the pink earmuffs on her head too much. She was sure that the hair probably got somewhat messed up during her early morning ride, but she really didn't care that much. It was something to do as she guided her horse into the town she knew all too well.
She had grown up in the town. Her mother had moved here only a few months before Kylie Devon was born, and they had lived here ever since. And for as long as she could remember, she and her mother operated the Stallion Inn in town. It turned out that the Stallion Inn got a high amount of traffic in the summer, so she ended up helping out with jobs in the inn as soon as she was able, with her jobs getting increasingly more complex with age. Kylie never questioned it, especially when she was old enough to help handle the horses.
The Stallion Inn wasn't just an inn, as it turns out. It also had a small stable, which amounted to around 6 horses. It turned out that the horses helped supplement their income as they were often used for horse rides or tours. Kylie was always drawn to them, really. When she was really little, she would often sneak off to try to "help" out with the horses, until her mother brought her back and reprimanded her for wandering off. Kylie's interests in horses didn't die, though. She would watch the horses walk around in their fenced area and she would read books on them. Eventually, her chores became more focused on taking care of the horses, which her mother eventually accepted, given how busy the inn could be. Eventually, she knew so much about horses and horse care that she became the Stable Master of the Stallion Inn. Anyone who wanted any business with the horses were led to Kylie Devon first.
Each morning, before the crowds came in (if there were any), Kylie would wake up early so that she could take one of the horses for a ride through some of the trails. It was a habit that she highly enjoyed; business was good, but sometimes, she just wanted time by herself with the horses, and out in the nature away from civilization. Sometimes, it was nice to get away from the clamor and just spend time with the horses she adores.
Today, she was riding Prue, a brown horse with black spots and a black diamond-shaped mark on her forehead. Prue had been around for most of Kylie's life, and was one of the few that hadn't been replaced while Kylie worked in the stables. She loved all her horses and she gave them all a chance to ride with her in the mornings, but she particularly liked Prue. Whether it was time or just bonding, Kylie always felt connected to Prue.
Kylie turned the corner at Fawlton street and went onto Main Street. She knew she had to go back to the stables soon, but she didn't see any harm in stopping at some of the stores for breakfast. Sometimes she would just go back to the inn and have breakfast then, but she liked to switch it up every once in a while.
Her green eyes scanned the shops, but something about Everington Cakes caught her eye. It wasn't anything food related though... There was red snow, the door was slightly ajar, and some people were staring... Kylie gulped and had Prue slowly trot up to the entrance. She had a bad feeling about this, but she risked a glance inside.
"Woah, woah! P-prue, stop," Kylie sputtered as she stared at the fallen body of Enna in the doorway. The red snow, the way her body was posed... It couldn't have been an accident. She knew there was trouble going on in the town, but... But this? Was this really the direction the town was going.
"...Oh my god..." was all that Kylie could say, as she stared in stunned silence at the scene, wanting to look away, but finding herself unable to do so.
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Post by Rosalie Dylas (Maddy) on Mar 14, 2014 18:03:29 GMT -5
Christopher Dylans was not a happy person.
He was somewhat new to town. He'd moved in with his cousin Dakota, mostly because they were the only one who seemed willing to let him live with them. Christopher's mother had long since grown tired of him, and his father had never been a part of the "picture".
It was cold. It was cold in this town. He preferred it over the summer, when it was hot. Summer and heat and the smell of the ocean. Those things weren't for Christopher. They held too much...meaning. Memories that should be laid to rest, but it was hard. It was very hard.
It was morning and Christopher found himself on a walk, which was a little unwise seeing as he was... blind. He had tried to get use to the streets and structure of the town. He had gotten the knack of walking a little bit. He had a path he would follow, weaving along buildings. It'd make a circle and he'd end up back at Dakota's house. It was calming in the morning to take a walk. Well... not so much calming as something to do. He liked to be occupied. Most things were meaningless but at least it kept his thoughts busy.
He was in a jacket that was a bit too light for the weather and as such he was shivering. He assumed his breathe was visible, but as he couldn't see it was only guesswork. He didn't miss the hustle and bustle of the big city where he used to live in. Less chance of walking into traffic was nice. The quiet of a tourist town in winter was almost peaceful, but it also made him sad.
He heard someone scream. That was not a good sign at all. Someone was screaming for help. He could hear them running down Main Street. It was odd. Not very many things happened here. He felt his throat tighten. It was probably nothing big, right?
Something told him that wasn't the case.
He knew what blood smelled like and the street reeked of it.
He stopped and bit his lip. He had no idea where the blood was so he couldn't exactly look at it. He wasn't even sure if he was in the middle of the road at this point. He put his arms out and managed to get to the side of a building. His back against the wall, he slid down to the ground.
Not again.
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Post by Avery on Mar 14, 2014 18:20:02 GMT -5
On the morning of January second, Beatrix Devon awoke with a splitting headache—one of those thumping monstrosities that made it just about impossible to fall back asleep. She groaned and glanced at the clock on her bedside table, then groaned again when she realized the time. She’d overslept by an entire hour… and even if the inn she owned, The Stallion, presently had a grand total of seven guests, they were still paying for a fresh breakfast as part of their room rate. So as much as Bea wanted to stay in bed until her headache faded, she had work to do.
Bea and her daughter, Kylie, lived in a modest apartment at the back of the inn, on the ground level. After sleepily dressing herself, Bea shuffled into The Stallion’s public area—to the dining room, specifically. She was pleasantly surprised to find several urns of coffee already brewing and an assortment of pastries and bagels spread out for the guests. Kylie, she thought with a smile. Responsible little thing. Probably already out exercising one of the stable’s horses, despite the ungodly cold and the early hour.
Hoping a burst of caffeine would dull her headache, Beatrix poured herself a cup of coffee. As she drank, one of the guests—a middle-aged man in town for some business Bea absolutely could not remember—meandered into the dining room.
“Good morning,” he said, sounding far too chipper for the time of day.
“Morning,” she murmured back, sucking down the rest of her coffee in one scalding gulp. As the proprietor of The Stallion, she knew she ought to be friendly with the guests… but her head hurt far too much right now to make small talk. “Enjoy the breakfast,” she said to him. “I was just ah—going to step out to um… get some shopping done.”
“Have a nice time,” he said to her.
Bea nodded, then slipped into the kitchen that abutted the dining room and stuck her empty mug into the sink. In all honesty, she was not in the mood for shopping, but… her eyes fell to the cabinet on the far end of the kitchen. Her special cabinet. It was much emptier than she would have liked.
Maybe some shopping would be good, after all.
Bea had lived in Aifam Cove for close to nineteen years, but still she’d never gotten used to the frigid winter days. It wasn’t just the cold, but the wind that accompanied it—howling and insistent. She shivered under her parka as she stepped outside, initially intending to head northeast on Fork Street, towards Stalberry Road, to meet with a certain someone about refilling her special cabinet; but before she could head that way, she glanced down Main Street… and furrowed her brow she noticed a cluster of people gathered slightly to the west of the town square. What the devil?
For a moment, Bea considered ignoring the crowd and continuing with her initial plans, but then she spotted a horse standing at the fringe of the gathering. She couldn’t tell which one, not from this distance, nor make out its rider, but she and Kylie were the only ones in Aifam who owned horses. It had to be her daughter. Bea’s stomach twisted something fierce. She found herself hurrying towards the cluster.
“What’s happened?” she nearly bleated as she reached the crowd. And then her eyes fall on the swath of stained snow… and the dead woman. Bea couldn’t help it, then: she screamed.
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Post by Celestial on Mar 14, 2014 18:27:15 GMT -5
The Church of the Most Blessed Weewoo Feather was a lovely place, full of prayers and enjoying beautiful views of the sea. The deep snow, which was as pure white as the feathers of the Lord 'Woo, created a serene atmosphere perfect for spiritual reflection and devoting your life to the service of the divine. It was no wonder this small, isolated town right on the coast had attracted a small group of nuns, all of which were the sweetest, kindest women you could ever meet. During the tourist months, they always stood out from the loud, boorish crowds who flocked to the town. They prayed every day, observed strict fasts and dedicated their lives to the service of their God.
Except Sister Lucille Erata.
Oh, sure, she took care to not stand out amongst any of the nuns and most people in town did not really know about her side business but rumours sometimes flew around, rumours which were quickly quelled by savvy business owners which were not keen to let their trade secrets out. Nevertheless, Aifam was well-known for its fine selection of very cheap, imported alcohol which the tourists happily lapped up during the summer months and the locals used to cope with the cold, dreary winters. Few questioned how such a cornucopia of liquers would appear in such a small town such as this. Police had conducted investigations and even raids on businesses but they had not been able to find anything. Lucille was careful not to slip up and even if she did, just a little, nobody ever suspected a nun. And so the drink kept flowing, with Sister Lucille's operation smuggling it all in. Some went to the mainland where it sold for a premium but some stayed in Aifam, where Lucille sold it to local business owners for slightly reduced prices in exchange for not giving her away. So it had been for years.
The rumours of a mafia starting up, especially two, worried her at first. A mafia could easily cut into her business, even force her out of town if she was not careful. She had been prepared to fight for her territory but soon, it was clear that they were not interested in such things normal mafias would be like turning in a profit, but instead were keener on small crimes. Slowly, Lucille relaxed. Her business kept flowing and she prayed with the other sisters in hope that the mafia would stop and leave their small town alone, though in truth she couldn't care less.
New Years had brought in increased alcohol sales and the business in Aifam Cove needed to restock, as usual. Lucille got up that morning, said her prayers and conducted the service with the rest of the sisters before she got her coat and headed out. She was one of the few nuns who went outside the confines of the convent in winter, especially now that the others were so scared of the mafias who moved in. They got everything they needed delivered but Lucille had to get up close and personal with her customers. It built trust and the sisters, instead of suspecting something was up, usually asked her favours to get things from town if they ever needed anything.
Sister Cecilia had asked her to get her some cakes to indulge in her sweet tooth before the Twelve Days of Woomas were up so Lucille's first stop was Everington Cakes. She could also visit her other customers around there before going to The Stallion Inn in the evening. That was the biggest order and she would have liked to take care of it last.
However, something was up. Lucille did not get to where she was without having good instincts and her gut told her something was different on that day. She quickened her pace until she arrived in front of the Cake shop. And there it was: the body of Enna, dead, with her blood staining the snow like fine wine.
"Oh, [bleep]!" Lucille exclaimed before she realised there were other people around. Didn't matter, there were more noteworthy things than her filthy mouth around. She carefully approached the body. She had been to requiems for the dead so a corpse was not an unusual sight to her. Carefully, she kneeled over Enna, clasping her hands in prayer.
"Poor soul. May you rest in peace and may the Weewoo trinity welcome you into their fluffy bosoms," she said, clutching the three feather pendant that hung around her chest as she did before getting up and looking around. "Well don't gawk, it's not polite to gawk at the dead! Move along with your own business, I'm sure you all have it! Let the police deal with this! Speaking of which, call them," she shouted at the gathering crowd.
It was rash to assume it was mafia but who else could it be? Before them, Aifam's worst crime was loud drunks (something which Lucille would never apologise for) and the occassional petty thief. Never anything bad until them. So this had to be their work.
Aifam had been a far little cash cow for her for years. The minute they started murdering her customers, it was war. Which Lucille was surprisingly alright with. The town had been rather boring lately.
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Post by Ginz ❤ on Mar 14, 2014 18:27:18 GMT -5
Lindsey Lukas had overslept that day. Had her former boss, Thomas Everington, still been in town, he would have fired her on the spot, and then told her to get to work right away. But as it turned out, he had left one day to go on a cruise and never came back. Lindsey wondered about him often, but she certainly didn’t miss him. Things were nicer without him around to fire and re-hire her 8 times a day.
Getting to work late wasn’t really a big deal, especially since she could trust Enna to be on time. Hard-working reliable Enna Tweff worked at the counter of Everington Cakes Limited, and she was also the one in charge to open the shop. Lindsey was just the delivery girl, but even though she could afford to go in late, she didn’t like to. Lindsey was passionate about her job, and above all, about cake.
So that morning, after glancing at her bedside alarm clock and realizing it hadn’t woken her up in time, she jumped out of the bed and rushed to get ready, trying to save time by simultaneously brushing her teeth and getting dressed.
Lindsey always stopped by her twin brother’s teashop every morning, to say hi and catch up with Nathan, and to get a cup of her favorite tea to go. But she would have to skip that today, she figured, as she was running late. The Starlight Teahouse was next door, so she could sneak in later if there wasn’t much to do, or better yet, tell Enna she had a delivery for her brother!
She thought about that cheerfully on her way to work, but her smile quickly vanished when she got there. Something seemed definitely wrong. There was a small crowd forming outside Everington Cakes Limited, and it certainly didn’t look like a happy crowd clamoring for cake.
She weaved her way to the front just in time to see her brother pounding on the door and calling for her "Sister? Are you in there?!"
“Nathan! Nathan, what is happeni—“ Lindsey stopped mid-sentence as she saw Enna’s body lying on the ground, limp and lifeless.
“En…Enn…a” Lindsey’s whole body was shaking. It couldn’t be true. Any moment now, her alarm clock would go off, and she would get to work early as usual, with a cup of tea in hand, to find Enna, alive and smiling at her behind the cash register. Any moment now. It had to.
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Post by Kozma on Mar 14, 2014 18:43:45 GMT -5
Aaron Greenhand was a very popular magician. In the summer he would put on many wonderful magic shows in the peaceful town of Aifam Cove and he was quite popular with the residents and tourists. At least, he believed he was popular with the residents and tourists. Despite his success, Aaron had his doubts about himself. He was a successful illusionist and an all-round nice guy but he couldn’t help but feel that his beautiful assistant, Trixie was the reason why he was so popular.
Trixie was rather quiet and shy but she was the most amazing thing to appear in Mr. Greenhand’s magic shows. He wasn’t a very well-known magician before but when he added Trixie onto his show, his fame skyrocketed. Trixie played an important role in Aaron’s magic shows and she did her job well because he had become a very successful magician with her help.
In the winter, Aaron and Trixie would not perform any magic shows because there was hardly any audience to perform for – given that there were virtually no tourists in Aifam Cove during the winter. Instead, the duo would spend their time practicing their current magic tricks and preparing elaborate new illusions to perform. They would also go around town talking to the other residents:
Well, Aaron would talk to the other residents. As I said, Trixie was rather quiet and shy and didn’t really talk at all.
(It was rather odd how Trixie was the real popular one while Aaron was the one who did all the socializing.)
Anyway, it was on this particular day when Aaron decided to stop by the Tea House with Trixie. As they neared their destination, they could see a group of people gathered by the neighboring shop; the one called Everington Cakes Unlimited. Aaron thought it quite odd that they were all gathered outside there…
Until he saw that someone was lying in the snow…
The red snow…
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Post by Draco on Mar 14, 2014 18:54:33 GMT -5
Jack Ryan Smith woke up, fell out of bed, dragged a comb across his head. Slowly and precisely he put on his shirt and tie, both ironed the night before. He found his way downstairs where he found his coat waiting for him. Putting that on his work outfit was complete. A very generic black suit, white dress shirt, and today a blue tie. He adjusted his glasses and made his way outside, not a second to early or late.
He ignored the paper at his doorstep, never did read the thing. By the afternoon someone would have taken it away for him. He briskly walks across the street to the pond. He stops to stare at it for a moment, noting down in a small pad of paper that everything was normal. Right down to the local homeless man who lived in a bush. He in fact, had a hope, but preferred to live in the bush. He makes his way around the pond into town square, checking off things as he goes. Everything was indeed going as planned. That is, until he reached the Starlight Teahouse...
He stared at the door, noticing no one inside. He taps his foot and checks his watch. He was now fifteen seconds off his routine. This wouldn't do. Every morning he walked in, asked for his regular, received a cup of coffee, paid, stepped out the door, took a sip, then threw away the cup because it actually contained some sort of tea. It was horrid, but it was part of his routine, and he would not stand for it being ruined for unknown reasons.
Curling his lip a little out of annoyance he plucked a child running past him by the back of his collar and holds him up to his face.
"Why is the tea shop not open?"
The little boy, Lil' Gavin, just shrugged, "Probably something to do with the commotion over there Mista Snape!"
Jack groaned, "Smith. Not Snape. And what is this of a commotion?"
He turned his head to see a crowd forming next door. He oddly did not notice this before. He walks over to investigate, Lil' Gavin still held up. He drops the child when closer.
"Excuse me, Assistant Mayor here. Why is the teashop closed?"
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 14, 2014 18:55:33 GMT -5
With an annoying tone, a phone began to ring. I HOPPED OFF THE PLANE AT L.A.X. WITH A DREAM AND MY CARDIGAN blared loudly, annoyingly, in the otherwise silent room. With a start, Dakota Allen woke up, their sleep tousled pink hair falling in front of their blue-green eyes.
Picking up their phone and checking the messages, Dakota noticed that the text was from their friend, Susie Q, a command to ‘come to the cake place immediately!!!!’ or something. Dakota’s eyes were too blurry to see properly without their glasses. A groan immediately escaped their lips.
“Well, there goes my morning,” they moaned, and yelled “Christopher? You awake?”
No answer. Well, they figured, he was probably still out for his morning walk. They wished he would at least stay to let them make him pancakes. They loved pancakes.
Throwing on an oversized sweater and some yoga pants, Dakota ran down the stairs of their house and slid their way into the kitchen. Grinning, they got themself a glass of water, slipped on some “rehomed” (Goodwill) boots, slid their phone into their pocket, and ran out the door, pulling it closed behind them.
Tripping over themself, Dakota ran toward Everington Cakes Unlimited, their hair unbrushed and water spilling cooly onto their freezing hands. They always forgot gloves, darnit! Finally, skidding to a stop near the cake emporium, they pushed their way through the crowd only to see…
“Enna?” Dakota sputtered, before groaning softly and looking away. Conveniently, despite their horror and disgust, they were one of the workers at the morgue. Yup, there goes their morning.
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Post by Kristykimmy on Mar 14, 2014 19:46:56 GMT -5
Anna Dywight braided her lazily combed brunette locks and then tossed the long braid back over her shoulder. She checked the weather as she walked into the kitchen, below freezing again. Part of her wondered why she had chosen to live somewhere where it froze half the year. Yes, surfing was only a hobby now, but it would be nice to have a few more months of it.
She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot and pulled a cup of fruit and yogurt out of the fridge. She ate slowly, reading another chapter in a the mystery novel she had picked up from the library on her last visit. Nothing spectacular, she had it figured out already, but the characters had enough witty banter to keep her reading.
Suddenly, screaming broke the silence of the frigid January day. For a moment she sat still, wondering if she should go see what was wrong. In summer, it would have been some tourist who had done something stupid inciting the screams, but in winter?
She got up and walked to the front facing windows. Anna Dywight lived at Dywight Antiques, or rather over it. The rooms above served as a kitchen, a sitting room, and a bedroom, along with a storage room for her goods.
Below her, she saw the towns people clustered outside Everton Cakes Unlimited. She didn't know the people who worked there well, despite five years living in Aifam Cove, but she was sure she would know them enough to chat if she met them outside the shop.
The crowd was thick, and so she doubted she would be needed in any way. After all, she was only a one time surfer turned antique store owner. Yes, she could set bones and apply pressure to a wound and do CPR as well as anyone else who had ever competed in a sport that could turn dangerous. She grabbed her coat from the hook and slipped into it as she walked down the stairs to the shop. She might as well go find out what was going on, it would hardly do to be behind on something important. In a small town, that kind of thing usually came back to bite you, as Anna had learned.
She walked out the front door, locking it securely behind herself. The crowd was thick, and she was reluctant to push through. She tapped someone on the edge of the crowd on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, has something happened?”
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Post by Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) on Mar 14, 2014 20:00:02 GMT -5
Alma Mathers-Fitzgibbon--as the name read on her bills, or simply Alma Mathers to her parents, or Mrs. Fitzgibbon, as she insisted on calling herself—hunched over the toilet. One hour prior it had been completely spotless thanks to the efforts of the shaking hands that now gripped its sides. Thin strands of auburn hair glued themselves to her forehead as if hanging on for dear life in anticipation of the next hurl. Mrs. Fitzgibbon slumped onto the bathtub next to her. It was over, yes, but as sure as there was vandalism and unrest in her beachside home, another bout of nausea was soon to follow.
Well, she thought, At least there isn’t much more to clean up. Alma was right, to some extent. The one story house, just barely toeing the line between urbanity and suburbia, would be passed by and regarded as “nothing special” by those who only walked pass its plain exterior. Its interior, however, would be mediocre and drab were it not for each of the rooms containing at least one fish tank. Alma looked at the Oranda gazing at her from the wide counter of the sink. She closed her eyes, cradling her stomach. For the thousandth time that morning, Mrs. Fitzgibbon wished her husband would come home from hs business trip overseas. Maybe even for her little girl to reappear, or for all of the trouble in Aifam Cove to finally go away so that the three of them... the three of them..
Mrs. Mathers-Fitzgibbon heaved into the porcelain bowl once more, expelling nothing but tears acrid as bile. "Now, now," the Oranda in the fish tank seemed to say. "Missing only means there's a chance they'll find her again. That's all. You never know." The fish seemed to glub consolingly.
Chance. Alma hated that word. Her husband was taking a chance overseas, she was taking a chance by keeping so many fish in the house when already she dreaded the bills addressed to her, Alma Mathers-Fitzgibbon, the Gar in the kitchen was always taking chances to prove itself to the other fish and as a result often got stuck in the filter. Chance was really just another word for "a situation that will, most likely, not turn out as hoped."
And Alma hoped, as much as a woman could/ hope. She hoped she wouldn't have to do her duty as an aquatic hero in the dead of night, that those idiots wouldn't go swimming at that time, she hoped somebody would find her daughter, if not her, she hoped her job of being a janitor and her husband's career she still couldn't quite follow would pay their debts, and she hoped to high heaven that her nearly constant vomiting didn't mean what she thought it meant...
Several running feet stormed past her home, their sounds pouring through the paper thin barriers like a waterfall. A piercing scream followed. Enna....dead...?
The noises squeezed Alma like a moray eel. No! She opened her bleary red eyes with a start, and, without warning, turned to the bathtub.
After finishing her business, Alma struggled to the door. No sense in being late for work, she supposed. Ms. Parker would be cross. A cross Ms. Parker was not a tolerable one.
Alma, trembling, reached for the doorknob, fearing that if she opened it, the dam would burst...
She turned the doorknob and opened the door. No water. So far so good. Alma pulled the door open just a hair more, just enough for a passerby to see her.
Alma cursed her weakness and slumped to the floor, as paralyzed as a fish slowly dying at the bottom of a tank...
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Post by Pixie on Mar 14, 2014 20:26:02 GMT -5
For Liliana Parker, her morning visits to Starlight Teahouse were just part of her happily orderly routine. She would wake up early to ensure she had time to make herself up proper, leave her little house on Boulder Point to head out for tea, and then go to her job at Aifam Accounting. Even though Lili was finding that, statistically, it was somewhat hazardous to one's health to live in Aifam Cove, she wasn't concerned. Those statistics were beyond her altering, and it was a calculated risk to remain with her business in Aifam.
She didn't even think of the state of the town as she drew her light blue curls into two tails and pinned a buoyant hairbow between them, or brushed blush on her freckled face. Her pigtails flounced when she walked, just the way her froth of petticoats did. The dress was a frilly and lacy outfit, ice blue with a skirt resembling a upturned cupcake and printed with happy teddy bears playing with balloons. Layers of tights, and a warm winter coat were necessary in the chilling weather of Aifam winter.
Lili's accounting job wasn't her only occupation. During the summer months, she was a psychic for the tourists. She didn't mind the tourists too much, but dealing with too many grew tiresome. She didn't have any legitimate powers, but she made people happy. She found if she told people they would have success with enough effort,and faked knowledge with the rarity of absoluteness kept in her mind, then they would leave happy. Happy people were easier to deal with. For the same reason, her accounting clients would get little teddy bears. Lili knew that cuteness, logic, and happiness were the forces that held people together.
Incidentally, Lili's longtime friend was also her assistant, Alma Mathers-Fitzgibbon. Alma could be a little disorderly at times, but she could generally trust her to carry out what needed to be done with people and the state of the building. She was good-natured, which made her good company. Lili could only hope it would be a good day for the both of them.
She had been expecting a lovely cup of tea, not to see a frantic crowd gathered outside of the tea house, or to hear the screams. She couldn't see what was the cause of it a first, as her child-like stature impended her. She scurried around and was finely able to catch a glimpse.
Red. Lili saw red. It was red, a color as if rose petals had been trodden into the snow, but she knew it was blood. It was Enna Tweff's blood, as she lay stiff and dead outside of Everton Cakes Unlimited. Her hands fluttered over her eyes at the macabre sight that marked the harshness of reality she liked to detach from.
"No!" Lili exclaimed, clasping her hands together as she turned to the people gathered nearby. "We must find out who would do such a bad thing! This shouldn't happen here... There's a 85% chance that whoever did this is still in this town. "
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Post by Tiger on Mar 14, 2014 20:33:05 GMT -5
Cheryl Roxanne Lewis, host of Aifam Cove's Channel 24 News - "News 24/7", the slogan was - would always be equal parts grateful and regretful that she was out on the dark morning streets of Aifam Cove long before anyone had left their houses.
When one of Cheryl's many news-scouts - mostly bored kids who just wandered by the station when they saw vaguely interesting things around town in exchange for a few dollars - scampered onto the neighborhood street, she found Cheryl Roxanne Lewis in the middle of a report. The woman, tall and of excellent posture, dark hair elaborately put up, and dark skin flawless in the light shinning from the top of the camera, gestured to what looked like the perfectly ordinary side of a perfectly ordinary house.
"As you can see, loyal viewers, the last of this street's graffiti has been washed away, painted over, leaving this part of town, at least, with a fresher start to the new year. It seems these vandals have found the holiday spirit after all, and - "
Throwing himself at the fence so the chainlink rattled where the snow drifts didn't imprison it, the scout leaned his head into the yard and shouted, "Miss Lewis! There's a - by the cake shop, there's - "
"Just a moment, loyal viewers!" Cheryl Roxanne Lewis said to the camera. "Young Mister Jared Paul, son of Martha Paul the librarian, has an update for us!"
Albert, her loyal camera man, expertly turned the camera so Cheryl and Jared would share the screen. Cheryl pointed the microphone at the librarian's son - in a fit of frustration, Jared pushed the microphone away and leaned close to Cheryl. "There's a dead person in front of Everington Cakes!"
Cheryl's eyebrows raised minutely, but she turned back to the camera, surreptitiously slipping a five dollar bill to Jared when she knew Albert would have that hand out of frame. "Viewers, I've just received a report that there's some sort of commotion outside Everington Cakes! The owner of Everington Cakes, Mister Thomas Everington - of Everington Cakes Limited - disappeared after leaving for a cruise, as we all know, leaving a store we have barely had reason to cover since their absolutely delicious batch of Halloween-themed recipes! I'll leave you to voiceover while we make the journey and see what's what!"
Cheryl Roxanne Lewis could practically hear the musical transition between her live feed and the prerecorded voiceover of the history of Everington Cakes, which Pratchett would have triggered back at the station. Being the only reporter who worked at 24/7 news between the hours of five AM and eleven PM, Cheryl needed quite a few transitions during the busy summer months to bustle around town. She usually didn't need to pull them out during the winter. In fact, sometimes she had Albert keep the camera rolling, and filmed the journey - because why not? So few locals watched Aifam Cove's Channel 24 News that it wasn't as if she was alienating anyone when the tourists left.
But this...a body...she would need to scout the location, and see if Jared had been telling the truth, and then make sure everything was tastefully arranged and she was absolutely one-hundred percent sure she knew exactly what she would say to the camera when it turned on.
Cheryl Roxanne Lewis tramped back to the fence and hauled herself over it; as she helped Albert hoist the camera over the locked gate, she said, "Albert - someone dead outside the cake shop. This is serious. Extremely serious. Do you know what I've just realized? This is the first time we're going to the scene of a sudden death. What if it was murder? We need to report on it - and interview witnesses! Someone ought to do that, interview people who may have witnessed a crime. But listen, Albert - I need your finest camera skills here. Your finest. Aifam Cove's Channel 24 News will not fall into gaudy sensationalism!"
That made clear, Cheryl Roxanne Lewis and her loyal cameraman piled into the Aifam Cove's Channel 24 News van - though by 'van' anyone referring to the vehicle meant the cramped sedan with the mismatched rear tire and the station name awkwardly painted across the doors and part of the trunk. Cheryl drove while Albert tended to the camera.
They reached Everington Cakes swiftly but safely. Cheryl Roxanne Lewis had no desire to become a mere story in the news. Even on days when there was so little real news that it was tempting to fabricate something. A hefty crowd had already gathered at the scene. At least they'd be good for concealing the body...though the bloody snow had spread far and thick and surprisingly, disturbingly, red. She looked back at Albert; he had positioned the camera so it didn't show the ground.
There were probably about ten seconds before Cheryl needed to give Pratchett something fresh. Finding a bloodless spot on the snow, she planted her feet and quickly addressed the camera. "Aifam Cove, we're on the scene at Everington Cakes. In the interest of good taste, we will not show you the physical evidence of the tragedy that has happened here - I can tell you, loyal viewers, that this death is either a tragic accident that left blood smeared across the snow, or - I may need to retract my earlier statement regarding the vandals having found holiday spirit."
She paused a moment - dramatic effect, appropriate transitions, respect for the dead - before continuing. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much at this precise moment, as I've only just arrived, but rest assured, loyal viewers, we will get to the bottom of this. Perhaps..." she turned toward the crowd, "these onlookers can tell us what happened here."
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Post by TJ Wagner on Mar 14, 2014 20:47:06 GMT -5
It was warm inside her shop, inside her own little world as Miko Shamen stood silently behind a simple wood counter and stared as best she could through her window. It was difficult to see outside. The warmth in her little flower shop had caused the windows to steam up, but she didn't take the time to wipe away the accumulated moisture. She thought as that steam as protection from the outside world. She didn't need the outside. She had everything she needed right here. Her little flower shop, steamy as she imagined the jungles of the tropics year round, was downstairs while her modest apartment was nestled upstairs. A boy from the local store brought her groceries around every couple of weeks and she could always call down if she needed something sooner. She rarely did.
Moving slowly, she walked about her store as she watered all of her precious flowers and spoke encouraging words to them. They were like her children - perhaps even better than children since they would stay by her side for the rest of her life if they weren't sold, and she sold very few flowers. People did come in every now and again. She could always tell when a husband and wife weren't getting along by the type of flowers that was being bought, but that didn't really happen all that often. Her shop was as overlooked as she had been all of her life, but that was fine with her. Being invisible had its advantages.
She only wished that she had a better memory. There were times that she forget to take care of her flowers or her clumsy hands broke another pot and she wouldn't even remember doing so until she noticed the mess until later. She hated that part of herself, although she tried to keep it hidden. She was sure that everyone knew anyway, but she wanted to have this one little secret. It was like the money really. Although she barely sold a single flower she never run short on money but she had no real idea of where the money originated. She never complained about it, but it still bothered her from time to time.
Outside, she heard a scream cut through the air and she hurried over to the window. With trembling hands, she wiped away just a bit of steam so that she could see the crowd gathering over by the tea house and even from this distance she could see the red staining the snow. She gasped and covered her mouth and watched in disbelief watched a woman and a man with a camera appear on the scene.
Slowly, she turned towards the small television that sat on the counter. As always, the volume was muted, but she could see as the program that was on was being interrupted for a special news bulletin. There was the same woman, but Miko's eyes were glued to the words at the bottom of the screen. Murder was such an awful word.
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