03.2023 | WELCOME BACK! Hello friends old and new! I'm so excited to welcome you all back to SITW! I've made some changes to the plot and added the ability to play supernatural charcaters! So come and check it out! I can't wait to jump back into this little town with all of you!
A strange history surrounds the town, it is a place where mysterious and supernatural things have been known to happen. The reputation of the town reguarly draws in visitors and newcomers alike. While some residents avidly believe in the supernatural, others are far more skeptical. What do you believe?
King hated his job. He hated the atmosphere of the high school, the administration, the necessary preparation, and the kids. It wasn't a personal kind of hate--not for all of them--but just a generalized dislike that drove him to want to tantrum like a child and stab a pencil into something. That was hate, surely. A form of hate.
Granted, there were some good days. Movie days were good days. His favorite part of starting a new novel for his English classes was finishing it, because then you had a very good excuse to show a movie (or movies) by writing it off as media exploration and throwing in a comparative worksheet to make the students look super productive. Clearly King was teeming with passion for his profession...
Needless to say, Fridays were his favorite day of the week (weren't they everybody's?). On Friday King got to ride his bike off of school property, flipping the bird to the building as his motorcycle roared away, and not look back...for two whole days. Coming back was like death, but he didn't think about that right now. Right now it was just him and Friday.
He didn't have plans. He didn't need plans. He always let himself bask in the freedom before being organized.
Right now, for instance, he was jogging up the apartment stairs, motorcycle keys jingling in hand, his black backpack on one shoulder. His blue eyes were fixed on his feet, and his mind was drifting in a happy little land where all the humanoids were fuzzy, dancing, and singing about the fact that it was Friday. He had one of those 'better left in your head' imaginations.
At this pace, the top of the stairs came quickly, as did a force that nearly sent him literally head-over-heels back down the way he'd come. Almost.
King reached out a hand to grab the metal railing as a string of expletives leaped from his mouth.
Nova left her apartment, locking the door securely behind her before unlocking her phone and burying her nose in the string of texts she'd yet to respond to. Her parents had sent her a message, asking how she was settling in and letting her know they missed and loved her. This time of year, they became more adamant about reaching out since this was around the same time Spencer had disappeared. Nova couldn't blame them, but she'd much rather sink into her head space and not talk to anyone. But, she sent a cheerful text back before going through the other messages, just to make the notification disappear from her phone screen. When she noticed the man who'd be renting out a space to her for her office had responded to her first text, her attention was quickly taken away from where she was walking.
She was tapping fervently at the screen as she replied when the sound of keys and footsteps echoing off the walls caught her attention. She made a mental note to not run into the person during her descent, but was not aware of how quickly they were ascending the stairs towards her direction. However, she was quickly made aware, her mental note to not run right into them going out the door when her downward momentum was quickly halted as something hard knocked her back, her phone flying from her hand and hitting the ground with an unpleasant thud. "Shit." She groaned under her breath before reaching down to pick up the device, hoping the uncased phone had suffered no damage. As she stood back up straight, she looked up with an expression of disbelief as the man before her let out a mouth full of curse words. She eyed him, the snippy part of her wanting to make a smart remark along the lines of 'are you quite finished yet?' Instead, she swallowed the nasty remark and composed herself.
"I'm so sorry!" The words sounded forced, but it was her fault for not paying attention. "Are you hurt at all?" She asked, the attitude she'd once wanted to have dissipating as she collected herself. The last thing she needed was a bad reputation in a new town, especially given her profession, of which she had no backup in case it didn't work out. 'New town psychiatrist cusses out local' didn't really have a welcoming ring to it.
He survived, don't worry. His reflexes were just fast enough, and his grip just tight enough; he kept himself from falling backwards, and instead leaned his torso forward, catching the last two steps up to the landing where the culprit was picking up her phone.
Unlike Novalynn, King had attitude and didn't give a flying fart if he had a bad reputation with this new girl in town. Yes, he knew she was the new girl. He had at least one roommate who had mentioned it to him, chuckling suggestively as they commented on her red hair. Something about red-headed cousins being kinky, as King remembered it.
"I'm fine." He cut into her question where she feigned care for his safety. Yeah right. They both saw what she had reached for immediately after bumping him, and it wasn't his hand. He secretly hoped her phone's screen was shattered beyond repair and that she'd have to get a new one altogether--but that the phone store wouldn't have the same model and instead she'd have to settle for an archaic flip phone. Would serve her right.
Whatever else might have left King's mouth flew away as soon as he realized that his keys were no longer in his hand. His eyes widened and at once began to pat himself down, not bothering to hide the sudden frantic state he was thrown into at even the suggestion that the keys to his love might be missing. He hadn't heard them fall, but they definitely weren't on him or on the ground.
King's head snapped up to her.
"Where are my keys?" It was clear from his tone that he expected her to help him.
It'd be a lie to say she wasn't taken aback as he snapped the words at her. Rolling her green eyes, she checked over her phone screen, a sigh of relief and irritation escaping her as she noted there was only a small crack at the top. Oh well, it would still work. At least she hoped. She shoved the device into her shoulder bag haphazardly as the man before her began to go from downright mean to suddenly concerned. He patted at his pockets, looking all around him. Nova wasn't sure what he was searching for and she'd began to move right past him since he didn't seem to be in a very pleasant mood anyway.
As she took her first step to walk around him, his head snapped up to her and she froze into place, her expression turning from disgust to almost complete horror, her left hand gripping the railing tightly to steady herself as her knuckles turned white from the force of her hold. The last time she'd seen an expression like that was when Aaron had stood over her, cursing and attacking her. Not a single muscle so much as twitched, though her heart began to pound in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. The stillness in how she stood was reminiscent of a deer in headlights. She instantaneously felt the tension melt away when he only inquired about the whereabouts of his keys. His tone sounded almost firm, though she couldn't be sure if that was just his normal tone of voice or not. Without really thinking about it her head began to swivel around in search of the missing keys before her eyes landed on the faintest hint of silver on the ground floor. They must have flown over the railing - and with King cursing up a storm, it was possible neither party had heard them hit the ground. Without a word, she made her way down the stairs in an almost awkward half-jog. She scooped the keys up into her petite hand and jingled them at King, looking at him from the bottom floor. "These?" She asked, her tone feigning interest in their exchange.
She made her way back up the stairs, extending her hand with her palm facing upwards as she offered the keys back to him, though a part of her really wanted to toss them back over the railing just as he would start to grasp for them. Instead, she remained motionless, though her hand shook slightly as the adrenaline that had earlier coursed through her body settled, giving her the shakes that often came after the fact. It was only then that she recognized him as one of the other tenants living in the apartment complex. As a matter of fact, this was about the usual time they'd crossed paths with one another, though she nor him had ever made any effort to say hello in their passing by. To be more exact, he was that particular tenant. The one with the obnoxiously loud roommate that she'd noticed catcalling women on more than one occasion. Jerks.. She thought to herself, almost ashamed that her mind wouldn't allow a more vulgar description for him and his unruly roommate.
A frown flashed through King's panic for a fraction of a second as the red-head's own features took a drastic turn. He didn't know why she had any reason to act like that--unless, of course, she was mocking him--but he also didn't have time to focus on her. His keys were missing. It was no big deal, really, as all he needed to do if he couldn't find them was call the manufacturer...but the bike meant more to him than that. He didn't own a car. It wouldn't kill him to walk for a while, but...the memories. Those keys. He imagined (stupidly and inaccurately) that this must be what it felt like for a mother in a busy mall to realize that one of her kids was nowhere to be seen...
The woman stepped around him and continued on her way, and King only barely bit back a snarky remark. Oh yeah, he thought, nearly bump me to my death and now continue on your way. He hated women like her. Stuck up, self-absorbed pretty girls who always had something better to do. In fact, she probably took one look at his skin color and decided he wasn't worth her time. Racist mother--
These?
King popped his head over the railing to look down at what she'd found. His keys! A light opened up again, and he eagerly headed down the stairs, meeting her halfway. He'd take the keys from her hand without hesitation, inspecting them in a similar fashion to how she'd inspected her phone.
"Yes, these are mine." He affirmed, looking up at her with far more mercy than he had only seconds earlier. Maybe she wasn't so bad. She'd come back up the stairs to give them to him, after all. Feeling much more grateful and far less irritable, he decided to ask,
When he suddenly seemed kinder, Nova resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. So much fuss over a set of keys? She questioned to herself. At least she was smart enough to have a spare for her vehicles. The expression she wore was firm. It conveyed no emotion since at this point she wasn't really sure how to react to him. One moment he was being a total ass. Now all of a sudden he wanted to be friendly? What sort of bi-polar individual had she just - literally - run into?
He met her halfway on the stairs and took the keys from her hand, checking that they were in fact his. Seemingly satisfied, he asked her name and for a brief moment, she didn't respond. Instead, she eyed him almost suspiciously before giving her eyes a half-roll, her gaze landing back on him. "Novalynn." She said, the response short and firm on her tongue. "Nova is preferred, though." She added, extending her hand to him in a formal handshake greeting. "And your name?" She asked, though the words sounded hesitant.
Truthfully, they were off on the wrong foot. Perhaps he was just having an off day, or maybe this was just how he was. Either way, she decided it would be best to mend this rickety bridge before it crumbled entirely. There was no need in making enemies so soon after her arrival to Sweetwater, especially with someone living in the same building as her. Besides, had she been paying attention, the entire altercation may have been avoided and she would have been well on her way - not that she had anywhere pressing to be. She let out a soft sigh. "Listen, I'm genuinely sorry for barreling into you," she admitted, though it was clear she didn't want to. "Is there any way I can make it up to you for nearly knocking you down a flight of stairs? Lunch, maybe? Or at the very least, a cup of coffee?" She offered, crossing her arms over her chest in a sub-conscious motion.
King arched a brow at the woman as she rolled her eyes at him. Really? Were they going to be that petty? He rolled his eyes at his students but that was because they were pubescent morons who did things stupid on purpose. She was--what?--a twenty-five or so year-old-woman standing here rolling her eyes. A grown ass woman rolling her eyes.
"That's unfortunate." He said after she mentioned her name. Dammit, he spoke to soon. Now he couldn't very well tell her his name. It wasn't like either of them had been given inconspicuous identities.
"You can call me neighbor." He let her know as he took her hand, his hold firm and almost a little too hard, though it rode the line so it wasn't directly or aggressively rude.
This was all her fault. They never had to meet if she stopped walking and texting. It should be illegal. It might have been a convenient occurrence if she was pleasant, but King had already assessed that despite her good looks she was a bad egg. No doubt she did something important that made her think it was okay to be a jerk.
Her ability to admit she was wrong made it a little better, but her offer to make it up to him was a little over the top. He'd only dropped his keys, not broken his legs.
"Yeah, sure, lunch--have it delivered to my door tomorrow around noon." He said, making it clear he didn't intend to spend time sitting with her. "I'll take a cup of coffee with it, too. I'm third floor, door B." He waited, looking at her with a flat expression, judging to see how she would respond to him.
A short sound escaped Nova at his remark, something between a chuckle and an amused huff. Her sharp green eyes fixated on him as if he were her prey, and right now, he was damn well about to be. While typically level-headed, he'd definitely gotten under her skin, which was something that didn't happen often and she sure wasn't about to let him see it.
"Let me guess, life hasn't played out like you wanted so you think that gives you the right to be nasty to others." It was clear that her assessment wasn't a question. "Either that or you're just inwardly angry with yourself because you're not as successful as you wanted to be, so now you take out that frustration on others as a distraction from the real issue because anything is better than blaming yourself." She just couldn't stop herself now. Her words were coming out faster than even she could process. All those years spent studying psychology seemed to have led up to this very moment, and it felt oddly satisfying to take out her frustrations on someone other than herself for a change. "Am I in the ballpark?" She asked half-condescendingly.
She'd apologized, even though he'd been half paying attention also, but that wasn't really the point. She didn't necessarily want to play the mind game with him, but right now, she felt like he deserved it. She also felt like he still deserved that lunch. "Tell ya what," she stood straighter, leaving little space between them as she smirked, clearly having a bit of fun with their exchange now. "I did offer to buy you lunch, so I'll do you a favor and even request they take it easy on the salt. Seems like you have too much as is." She hoped he was smart enough to catch the reference.
King fake smiled at the redhead, the expression turning into something more like a grimace, as if he was making it clear how much of a pain in the ass she was to him already. What was with this chick? She'd tried to ask him out and he said no, and now she was butthurt and psychoanalyzing him? Well he could do the same but he liked to think he wasn't as petty.
"No, I just only grab lunch with pretty girls. It's that simple." He said shortly, intentionally drawing a contrast to her long-mindedness by being brief. He was also being mean and hoping to hurt her feelings--looks were usually the way to go--because if he was being honest then he wouldn't have said that. She was actually pretty hot. Even the hot ones often didn't know it, though.
He wanted that to be all, to walk away and be done, but something about her attempt to break him down infuriated King. Granted, he'd intentionally responded the dismissive way he had to see how she'd take it...but clearly he hadn't really wanted the fight, because now he just felt tired. It was Friday, dammit. Why couldn't she leave him alone and they do that passing in the stairwell like planets destined never to collide thing like normal?
King let his head lull to one side and sighed, rolling his eyes away from her then back to her.
"Oh, wow, aren't you clever." His tone was as unenthusiastic as it could be. "She called me salty." He turned to say that to the imaginary person next to him. He then lifted his hand and covered his mouth. After a moment of holding that pose, he dropped the theatrics and turned to look directly at her. After a beat he let her know:
"You're a bitch." Surprisingly, it wasn't said as if it was completely a bad thing. "You should stop by my place sometime. I bet your cocky mouth could do some real work to an apartment full of guys." He hoped she was smart enough to catch the reference.
Even in the heat of their discussion, the laughter that erupted from Nova was a charming sound. Truth be told, she'd wanted to think he was a little more clever than some prepubescent teen boy. Well, she'd been wrong before and at least she was mature enough to admit it. "Really? We're going to resort to personal attacks based on outward appearances? And here I was beginning to think even you weren't really that dense." A cocky smile spread across her lips. People all too often resorted to personal attacks when they felt like they were losing their leg in an argument. It was a common occurrence that Nova had seen time and time again. It was a manipulation tactic, a way of drawing the argument away from the real matter at hand. Seems she'd really struck a nerve, and that pleased her greatly.
He continued with his child-like display, Nova's amusement growing. She'd let him have his little show. It was clearly all he really had. The poor thing. Typically, she didn't use her knowledge to tear people apart. The career she'd chose actually meant she was dedicated to the exact opposite. Her job was literally to lift people up from their dark places, but this man seemed perfectly content with his dark place. Perhaps he'd made friends with his demons. If he had, Nova couldn't help but feel sorry for him. It meant he walked a dangerously tight rope and one push in the wrong direction would send him hurling into a pit of despair unlike anything he'd ever known. At this point, though, it would be his own fault. It was even more sad that he didn't seem to care.
"You're a bitch."
The words sounded more complimentary than insulting. She laughed again, and shook her head, her red hair falling over her shoulders delicately. "Maybe so, but at least I'm not like you." She shrugged and winked at him, clearly still mocking him. What he said next almost made her lose her composure. Almost. "Thanks for the offer." She said in a chipper tone. "Unfortunately for you, I'm only interested in mentally stable men." She shrugged again, this time more dismissively. If he thought anything of that nature was going to bother her, he was going to have to try a little harder. Unless, of course, that was the best he had to offer for a rebuttal. "Get that mind of yours right, then maybe you'll stand a chance with a woman of my caliber." A borderline sultry look took over her face and the statement sounded more flirtatious than she'd intended. There were two things Novalynn was not ashamed of when it came to herself; her confidence in herself and her sexuality.
"So you took it personally." King concluded for her. She was trying to put up an untouchable front, but she was not immune. Who could be? He would be interested in finding out what she did for a living. Right now he was thinking either a nurse or a stripper. She had a sharp tongue, which was probably helpful with the clients. Lots of men got turned on by snarky girls. King wasn't so sure.
When she made her comment about the men she was interested in he chuckled, sincerely humored by that one. It was very obviously just an attempt to dissuade what she perceived to be his personal interest in her.
"That's odd." He said, as if he were truly perplexed by the statement, "Because from the looks of it I'd say they aren't interested in you. From our brief interactions you've showed a prioritization in electronics over humans, I got a little glimpse of what could only be described as trauma-induced fear, and now you're standing in the stairwell carrying on with someone you deem dense and unstable. Looks like you're a lonely girl with a past. What is your poison--daddy issues? Or the typical boyfriend issues?" From his tone it was clear he didn't really want to know.
"Scurry along like a good little fox and I'll give your interest in me the benefit of the doubt."
Nova scoffed at him, unsure of how that idea had ever entered his shallow mind in the first place. "I don't take the opinions of strangers personally." She said matter-of-factly. He droned on, now attempting to pull her same little tricks. Something then clicked inside Nova's brain, almost like a light switch being turned on. Ah, so he can actually be clever. She thought to herself, actually managing to give him at least a little praise. Too bad he only had one part of that entire speech right.
Nova sighed, becoming bored with this little back and forth. He didn't present any considerable argument that was new to her. Oh yes, she'd heard these lines before. How often had she turned a man down only to be insulted and for them to claim she had "issues?" One too many times, to be truthful. The first few times had really gotten her riled up, but once butthurt men used the same means to try to break her down, it became as stale as a running joke on the same tv show. Overused, overdone, and no longer inducing humor like it once had. "Well, well. Looks like pretty boy has me all figured out." She said sarcastically. "Let's be honest here, you don't care what my "issues" are," She lifted both hands to air quote the word. "But I'd be interested in hearing yours. My office in the shopping center. Since you think you're so clever, I'm sure you'll figure out which building it is." The smile she wore was obviously faked.
He was just full of surprises. Now his cocky attitude had him believing she was interested in him? She couldn't fathom how someone like him could be so beneath every other living being on the planet but still so full of himself. "Ugh, and I never thought this would end." Again, the sarcasm was heavy in her tone. "All I've wanted to do this whole time is get to my sportbike. Thank you for finally ending this little.. whatever this was. It's been nice." It was clear by her body language - well, everything really - that she had not enjoyed the interaction with him.
King maintained a smirk as she showed her dramatic colors. At the mention of her office he scoffed. He surely hoped she was joking. She was too insecure to be a psychiatrist, as her reactions to him had displayed an immaturity and inability to overlook insult. People like that didn't have any right trying to fix the wrongs in other people's lives; they were too damaged to do good. They were toxic (and not the good, Britney Spears kind).
"Thank you for calling me pretty." King said with a smile that almost passed as sincere. She mentioned a sportbike, and he'd noticed one outside for the past few weeks, but he rejected the thought that is belonged to her. She didn't fit it. She had a stick too far up her ass to be able to ride correctly.
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." He said to her, his intonation matching a casual goodbye, before stepping to the side and starting up the stairs again. She'd certainly gotten her panties in a wad after being rejected, but he couldn't blame her. After all, he was pretty.