friendzied | open post

[ Sometimes, you’re trying to text a friend. Sometimes that friend’s name is “Susie”, with an S. And sometimes you accidentally text a not-friend who is under your phone contacts by “Shape”. Which also stars with an S.

And you never get a text back, but sometimes you do get a response of a sort. Like this one.

He shows up a short while after the misfire, out in the middle of the snow on Mount Ormond, by the visitors’ information board. Anyone can tell he’s there because the mountain is eerily quiet. The usual low howling of the icy winds, the cracking and breaking and falling of icicles, the distant cawing of crows… it’s all missing. All signs of life and the passing of time just goes completely dead silent. Even here, the presence of the purest evil is acknowledged by everything.

And he watches. Stares. Does nothing and says nothing, but he’s there, as though waiting for an answer. ]

[ x ]

See you then.

[ a little relieved he doesn't ask why not ormond, even if she did give a good excuse for trekking to autohaven. julie appreciates that about talking to eddie, he doesn't really pry. some of the other survivors ask so many questions like they should get to look at her life story or whatever just because she's not some twisted up monstrosity on the outside. pisses her off. ]

[ anyway. ]

[ getting through the fog is easy enough at this point, at least it is when it comes to travelling between the realms (and to the campfire.) there's other stuff out there, she knows, but julie's never tried venturing out that far. the thought gets choked away every time it starts to form. but getting to autohaven is quick and easy, takes maybe ten minutes even at a normal pace, so she stops first to grab her walkman and a couple things before setting off. a bottle of water because sometimes she gets the worst cottonmouth and a couple bags of chips they raided from the rpd vending machines. mask on and knife in hand, that's when she feels comfortable enough to leave. ]

[ it's no surprise she gets there first. it's chilly, but it doesn't compare to the cold of ormond, and julie's careful and quiet about making her way through to the office. she brought a sleeping bag too, just for something soft to sit on, and plops it down by a wall and herself soon after. knees pulled up, one foot tapping along to her music while she waits. ]

[ x ]

[ she can hear the entity in the back of her head, it's... angry, but also disappointed. she hasn't been doing her best in trials lately. she and frank are usually the reliable ones, even if the survivors get out it's usually still a good showing. enough to keep it sated until the next trial. this is probably gonna be a bad meeting. they're all bad meetings. ]

[ julie, when quentin arrives, is sitting on the floor just outside the stall, just in a tank top and her mask. her hoodie and jacket are on the ground next to her, hood and shoulder of said hoodie soaked in blood, as is julie's hair turned red from blonde mostly on the top left part. she's tried to clean up, but there's not really much she can do until she's sent back to ormond. ]

You know, that's something I've never wanted to think about. Thanks.

[ x ]

I wouldn't flatter yourself. I'll hold a conversation with most of the survivors even when I text them by accident.

[ x ]

You got any better ideas?

[ please have a better idea ]

[ when it happened to chrissy, late at night in the middle of his living room - it was awful. it was more than awful, but there aren't many words that properly explain or encompass the sheer horrific terror eddie felt when he watched a teenage girl get pinned to his ceiling by some unknown force, her bones twisting and snapping in unnatural directions, eyes pulled into her skull.

when it happened to patrick, out in the middle of lover's lake - when he watched some kid he barely knew rise up out of the water like some kind of god, eyes wide and frightened by something no one could see - eddie was more prepared. but it didn't feel any different, watching someone's limbs crack and their body contort. the familiarity, or lack thereof in his and patrick's case, changed nothing. it did not lessen the trauma, the terror. the guilt.

eventually, they were able to give it a name - vecna's curse. a childish label, stolen from a fantasy game, but not a name that was unfitting for the ailment or the person responsible for it. eventually, they came up with a plan to fight it, to end it. end him, and when eddie lay bleeding out in the middle of some phantom copy of his own street, he thought maybe they'd done it. maybe they'd beat him. maybe he was dying, but maybe no one else would have to, and that seemed worth it.

the fog seemed like an unfair trade for sacrificing his life. finding some of his friends here felt like a blessing and a curse at the same time, comforting and nauseating, depending on the hour, but if there's anything that helped him keep his shit at least somewhat together, it was the lack of anything vecna. no vine hivemind, no clocks, no fucking demon bats. crows and a whole bunch of twisted psychopaths, sure - but no vecna.

and then it happened to leon. in the middle of a trial, pursued by what appeared to be a tiny girl, the air crackling with static - it happened again, almost exactly the same way. no warning, none of the same signs, but the lifting, the snapping bones, the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground - it was all too close, too familiar.

eddie survived that trial, somehow. but that's how it goes, doesn't it - chrissy, patrick. they both died in front of him, like he was meant to witness them. like he was meant to be punished for - something. fred died in the middle of the street right behind eddie's house, for christ's sake. and max - eddie doesn't want to think about max. he doesn't want to know.

the anxiety is still festering when he makes it back to the campfire. it builds in his chest, starts to make him feel like he's suffocating. starts to make him feel a little crazy, honestly, to have to sit here and listen and watch while everyone else acts like nothing happened. like people getting folded up like paper cranes is just an every day occurrence - and maybe it is, maybe eddie shouldn't be as messed up about it as he is, but - it turns out trauma doesn't work that way. most of them weren't even there in the trial, so he can't fault them for being able to relax, but it feels isolating.

he goes for a walk. gets up and murmurs something about being right back to no one in particular, and wanders off into the woods to get some space, some air, some distance. eddie's gotten better at navigating through the fog, but this time, he doesn't really think about anything. no place in mind, but eventually the air starts to feel a little crisper, colder, and the ground underneath his sneakers starts to crunch a little differently.

when he comes back to himself, he's surrounded by white. snow, a disabled ski lift creaking quietly above his head as a biting breeze blows through. eddie blinks. he's been to ormond before, but never outside of a trial. never uninvited, and there's a reason for it - he might be cool with julie, but there's at least one of threegion that has made it clear they're not really a fan of him, and no telling how the others feel, but eddie could probably guess that they're not as nice ("nice") as julie.

but it seems quiet, and that's enough to tempt eddie forward. he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and heads toward the lodge, jaw clenched loosely. inside, he's cautious. he takes his hands out of his pockets, takes quiet, wary steps and swivels his head as he looks around. he's never really taken the time before to take anything in inside, rushed by adrenaline and the need to survive, but he takes a second now. notes the mural on the wall that he's somehow never noticed before, the ski rack. the silence should be unsettling, but for eddie - something tight begins to unwind his chest very slowly.

satisfied that he's not about to be ambushed, eddie practically collapses onto the couch near the fireplace. he hunches forward a little, rests his elbows on his knees, and drops his face into his hands, fingers pushing up into his fringe just slightly. he exhales, long and heavy, breathing out the words more than speaking them clearly. ]

Oh, Jesus Christ...

[ x ]

Well if we were back in Ormond I'd invite you over to "study."
By which I mean "make out without our parents knowing."
So I'm thinking something along those lines?

( from here. )

[ eddie's mouth opens in semi-mock offense when julie steals the cigarette's from him, looking at her with mild disbelief. he's the one who came out here - by himself! - to snoop around for shit to bring back to camp (sure, mostly for himself, but if he'd found anything he thought could be useful for someone else, he wouldn't have hesitated to bring whatever back for them), and she's claiming a finder's fee? for what? finding him, when he specifically said she could and should wait by the gates if she was insisting on coming to get him?

eddie scoffs, reaching for the cigarettes. ]

Finder's fee my ass, Jules, you didn't—

[ but julie freezes instead of jerking her hand away the way eddie was expecting her too, and that's enough to make him pause too, eyebrows furrowing when julie practically ignores him and spins around. it has not slipped eddie's mind that they're not exactly safe from the nightmare monstrosity that apparently lives here, but it's been pretty quiet, and from the handful of times eddie's had to face that thing, he's learned that it doesn't really come quietly.

also in his few encounters, eddie has been fortunate in that he hasn't seen it in its... festive form, so when he catches a very very brief glimpse of white in the distance, shifting behind some trees and brush, he mistakes it for something far less harmful. ]

It's - that's a snowman. Someone's - probably just fucking around.

[ but julie's got her knife out, and if he knows anything about julie - which is admittedly, not very much and not as much as he would like to know - it's that she doesn't spook easily, and she's not stupid. the way she backs up toward him, broadening herself to act like a shield between eddie and whatever it is she thinks she saw, it's enough to convince eddie that maybe she knows better.

eddie shoves the disposable camera in his back pocket and curls his hand in the bend of julie's elbow, pulling her along with him as he starts to move, backing away from the scattering of cars toward some fences close by. ]

C'mon. Not without you.

[A girl date. Corey can’t believe this. It’s never happened before. Sure he’s tried asking girls out, but the attempts never really went anywhere. They’d either say yes and then ghost, actually make the plans with him but not show up, straight up laugh in his face, ignore him entirely… Corey Cunningham, always the butt of the joke no matter what tactics he tried.

Then there were the times he couldn’t even get the words out to bother asking in the first place. Just fumbled and said forget about it. After being rejected so much the spirit gets beaten down. There’s no point in trying anymore. So he stopped.

But now he has a date. An actual one. He made sure it was clarified. Just in case. She asked him out and he’s still reeling from that. The week was so odd after that. Imagine - having something to look forward to for once. Sure he saw her at the garage every day but he’ll get to see her outside of work too. Friday. 8pm. How crazy.

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. But then again - he’s always nervous. Or at the very least a bit on the anxious side. It’s his default setting nowadays. Can’t be helped. The closer Friday gets the more his anxiety spikes. But it’s not all crippling fear for once? It’s… excitement? That’s different. Not used to that feeling at all.

He said he’d pick her up. No problem. It’s a chilly evening out there, so he pulls his leather jacket on over his sweater before leaving the house. Was Joan upset? Absolutely. Joan’s always upset. But Ronald had his back. He’s a good guy like that. Just let the kid go out for once. He’ll be alright. Have fun, Corey. Corey just mouths his thanks, looking sheepish about it, and runs his hand through his hair. Messy is best he’s found. Oh, and he pockets his glasses. For some reason he doesn’t seem to need them much as of late, but bringing them along isn’t a bad idea. Always prep for the worst case scenario.

He shoots Julie a text letting her know he’s on his way, putting his phone away before any response comes back. And he takes a moment to breathe before revving up his bike and heading out.

For a Friday night, Haddonfield sure seems quiet. The roads anyway. This place just keeps getting stranger and stranger the longer he stays. One day he’ll leave. He keeps telling himself that. His mind wanders - but not too much, being safe is important - on the ride over. And that makes the time go by faster.

Before he knows it he’s standing outside her place and knocking. 8pm on the dot. Super prompt. That’s him.

God he better not fuck this up.]

[ I could go with an elaborate set up but you know I'm doing this 100% because it's funny, so really, it's Valentine's Day, that's all you need to know. And that's why Julie gets this text at like 5am. ]

Hey, babe, got a little something for you.

Morbidly, I'd kind of love to see that.
Sounds like if Sam Raimi directed a Steve Martin movie.

a texting thread but also not

@dnds

@micronap

@photocard

@deepwound

sry not sry this is long for no reason