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?
Once upon a time, Hunter had dreamed of making something of himself. The fantasy usually involved something along the lines of engineering, with lots of money and beautiful women. Sometimes the dream would pop up, catching him off guard, sending him into a spiral of self-loathing and angst. It wasn’t that he lacked the skills to do it, he just couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. Everyone had an opinion of him, made assumptions about his life, and what kind of person would he be if he disappointed them by doing something with his life? His sister had tried and failed countless times to get him to finish school, but Hunter refused. It was probably out of spite more than anything. Or maybe it was the fact that he enjoyed pissing her off.
It wasn’t hard to see that Hunter liked to play the victim. He had played the “My mommy is dead, and my dad is in prison” card so often, that there wasn’t a sole in the town that hadn’t heard it come out of his mouth. In the young man's mind, it was a good enough excuse to be a walking disaster.
Truth of the matter was Hunter believed he was worthless, and every bad thing that happened to him was deserved: his numerous arrests, his drug problem, lack of people that cared. All of it happened because he never stopped his father from killing his mom. The guilt was a consuming, suffocating, demon that whispered in his ear, reminding him that he wasn’t capable of being loved, or becoming anything other than trailer trash.
It pissed him off.
He had gone on a bender, nose clogged from last night's high, breath rank with the smell of vomit, eye blackened from the fight he had provoked. He had come out looking better than the other guy, and taken off long before the cops showed up, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would have to answer for his actions. Screw them all, he thought angrily as leaned against the wall outside of the boutique, head throbbing, knuckles swelling and beginning to bruise, stomach rolling.
Hunter wished for nothing more than to drop dead right there, save everyone the trouble of trying to save him. He slid down onto the concrete, leaning his head against the wall, and pulled his knees to his chest. What the hell is wrong with me?
It had easily been another night of shenanigans for the 17 year old. In the wee hours of the early morning, the town of Sweetwater was still sleeping soundly under a blanket of stars. It couldn't be any later than 2 or 3 a.m. as the young blonde stumbled through the quiet streets, trying her best to make it back home before her parents realized she wasn't in bed. Receiving another lecture would definitely be the cure for her buzz, but she didn't want the cure. She was happy feeling tipsy as she moved along, one hand gliding along the sides of the buildings to keep herself stable. She hadn't wanted to leave the party, but when her friends decided it was time to leave, she knew that it was getting too close to the time her father would be up and about to get ready for work. She'd stupidly turned down the ride home - or maybe it was the smart choice. Her friends weren't any better off than she was at the moment. If she weren't in such an intoxicated state, she may have hoped they made it home safely. But, they were all but forgotten as she focused every ounce of brain power she had left just putting one foot in front of the other.
She wasn't blackout drunk, by any means, but that didn't change the fact that she was just drunk enough to not be able to fully function properly. Home isn't far now. She thought, just as something in her path made her tumble to the ground. "Shit." She slurred the word and it all but echoed through the dead silent shopping center as she carefully got back to her feet, looking over her shoulder quickly enough to make her head spin and nearly cause her to lose her balance. Seems she wasn't the only one who'd opted to walk home that night, as the culprit had been a lone shoe on the sidewalk. She sighed and brushed herself off, continuing to trudge forward, focused again on her objective until the faintest figure in the distance entered her vision.
A man, who didn't appear to be much older than she was leaned against the wall of one of the surrounding businesses, his knees pulled to his chest. He looked defeated and Morgan quickly recognized him as the town fuck up. Morgan had grown up here, so it wasn't hard for her to identify the residents of Sweetwater, especially those who had lived here during her upbringing. If she wasn't careful, she'd be painted a villain just like Hunter. Luckily, her secret life was under wraps for now. The only people who really knew what questionable activities she engaged in were her peers; or people who also chose the party life. Truthfully, even the few adults that did know wouldn't whisper a word, because many of them had gotten involved with Morgan in some way or another, whether or not they knew about her minor status before or after the fact. It would be much too easy for her to throw them under the bus if they didn't keep their escapades strictly between them.
Morgan made her was closer, stopping just a few feet from him. She wondered what he was doing out this late, though she already had a pretty good idea. Hunter had a reputation, that was for sure, and everyone knew of him and about him. "Long night?" She asked simply, confident she already knew the answer. With her home being only another 15 minute walk away - 30 in her current state, she didn't see why she couldn't stop and chat. She didn't really want to go home anyway. Her home life wasn't bad like some of the other peoples' here in town, but that didn't make it any more desirable. Her parents coddled her, spoiling her to no end in the hopes that she'd never rebel against them or want to be away from them. She was an only child and it was clear her parents wished she would be their little girl forever. It was suffocating, and Morgan had no quips with taking her loving home for granted.
Head still against the wall, he let it roll towards the woman approaching him, her staggered gait a clear sign that she wasn’t any better off than him. All he could manage was to cock an eyebrow for a second, but even that was painful. Unable to focus enough to distinguish which one of the blonde bitches it was, he groaned and motioned towards with one of his hands, before she even spoke. The last thing he wanted right now was some stuck-up, shitfaced slut bugging him. He just needed to sit here until the spinning in his head and burning in his nostrils went away - hopefully before the boutique opened for the day. Hunter could only imagine the smug look on Sanders face if he got the call to pick him up again. Then again, it had been awhile since he got a lecture from someone other than his sister.
“Piss off.” He grunted, cupping his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut, the movement making his stomach churn. Hunter wished he knew why he felt such a desperate need to drown himself in a bottle of rye, and an 8 ball of coke every other night. It always made him feel miserable the next day, though it wasn’t from any hangover. It was a crushing realization that his life was amounting to nothing. All he had to show for his twenty years of life was a rap sheet as long as his arm, and an alienated town. Sure, he had ‘friends’, generally younger ones asking him to boot for them, even though he wasn’t even of legal age yet, but the one liquor store in the town didn’t seem to care. Maybe that’s what drove his self-destruction - no one gave a shit what happened to him.
“Is there something I can help you with?” He snarled at her, bloodshot eyes locking onto her unfocused hazel ones. Recognition dawned on him, and he smirked. @morgan. Of course. How he didn’t recognize the long legs, and delicious tits was beyond him, but he had ogled at her more than once. He had never stooped so low as to cat call - the one thing he avoided at all costs. Left leg falling to the pavement, he patted the spot beside him and raised his eyebrows, right hand reaching into his mop of greasy red hair.
“Sorry, Morgan. Didn’t realize it was you. Thought maybe it was one of those stuck up bitches that shields their innocent children from me. He attempted to laugh, but it only brought about a coughing fit, snot running down his face, coating his lips in the bitter taste of residual drugs. Wiping his nose and mouth with his sleeve, he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.” Sighing, he rested his head against the wall again, all the while looking at her. “What the hell are you doing out this late?”
Morgan crossed her arms at him, rolling her hazel eyes when he snapped at her. It was apparently his typical behavior, as she'd spotted him making an ass out of himself on several occasions. But recognition soon came over his features and he patted the spot next to him. Morgan took up the silent offer to sit, her back sliding down the concrete wall and landing with a small huff as she crossed her legs indian style. She leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes briefly. It felt like her entire body was spinning. Hunter apologized and Morgan couldn't help but to laugh. She patted his shoulder absentmindedly when he was grasped by a coughing fit, knowing that it didn't really help him. "Nah. Those people are no fun. Besides, no one is innocent in Sweetwater." She said. "Look where being a sheltered child got me." She added with chuckle. It wasn't that she was in a bad place, but more, being sheltered and coddled had only meant that once Morgan got a taste for life and all of it's ugliness, she'd wanted more. It was thrilling to do the things she knew she wasn't suppose to; things that would appall her parents.
She opened her eyes to look at him when he inquired about her late night adventures and a sly smile spread across Morgan's face as she raised an eyebrow. "There was a huge party at one of those fancy houses in the Woodlands." She stated. "And you know me. If there's a party, I'm bound to be there." She added. Morgan was known by her peers as the party-animal. She was certainly the life of any party she stepped in to. She wasn't afraid to be in the spotlight and take on a few dares or bets in the heat of the moment. She was outgoing and friendly, which made it easy for her to mingle with everyone.
"Seems like you've had quite the night yourself." She shrugged, turning her gaze away to look out over the dead shopping center. "You know, if you ever want to do something besides coke, you could always join me at the next party. We only drink and smoke weed, but I'm sure that beats the hell out of the shit you're doing." She said, moving her index finger up and down as she pointed at him, almost as if to say, 'isn't this a miserable way to feel?'
Apparently it didn’t matter how attentive ones parents were. Morgan was a pretty good example of that, and well, everyone knew just how much attention his parents gave him. It wasn’t much but it made him feel a little better about his situation. He offered her a smile back, enjoying the sound of her laugh, despite the storm raging in his body. Though he’d never admit it outright, it was refreshing talking to someone that wasn’t trying to lecture him or mock him - even if that person reeked of booze almost as much as he did.
“Oh yeah, I was there for a bit. Then some dickhead pissed me off,” he gestured sloppily to his eye, “so I bailed, and hit up a friends place.” More like he staggered around town trying to avoid the trailer park at all costs, but tomato tomotto. Glancing towards the horizon, Hunter sighed heavily. Monica would either be getting home from a graveyard shift, or getting ready to start one. He was glad his phone was dead. Sure as shit he’d have a million calls and texts from her demanding to know where he was. As the younger girl spoke once more, he let his eyes wander back to her face, catching the shrug of her dainty shoulders out of his peripherals. Why were all the hot girls so young?
A scowl formed on his face and he subconsciously took back his earlier thoughts. Of course there would be judgment. There was always judgment, even from train wrecks like Morgan. He looked down at his hands, absently picking at one of his finger nails and took awhile to answer. What did she expect him to say? There wasn’t exactly a right answer. Drugs were drugs, regardless of how anyone wanted to paint them. Why everyone thought weed was a better alternative to blow was beyond him. At least on blow he was able to get shit done. Weed? He was about as useful as his incarcerated life giver.
“So, if I am high on coke, I’m not allowed to join you at your party? Seems a little hypocritical.” he offered, not really wanting the conversation to end. It was doing wonders to distract him from the vomit that kept threatening to paint the sidewalk. “What if,” he began, elbow on knee cap, arm extended and finger pointed at nothing in particular, “I just show up high, but don’t actually bring it with me. That way if we get busted, daddy doesn’t have to find out about their little girls extracurriculars?”
Mentioning that he was also at the party, Morgan was a bit surprised. She was sure she would have noticed him; there weren't many redheads in town, after all. Then again, she had heard about the squabble that had taken place, but she never thought it would be Hunter. She'd assumed it was some cocky jock that got showed up and was pissed about it, and with that assumption, she'd carried on with her night. "Well, from the looks of it, the other guy must be in pretty bad shape." She nudged him with her elbow playfully, yet impossibly gently. The look of 'I'm going to puke' was written all over his face, so she definitely didn't want to do anything to push his body to that point, especially since it seemed he was trying his best to hold it down.
He scowled at her notion to join them, and for a moment, Morgan thought that maybe he didn't like the idea of joining her and her wild friends at a party, but that assumption was quickly tossed out the window when he spoke up after a few moments of sitting in silence. She groaned at his words, turning her attention back to him. "It's not like that." She said with a sigh. "I was only suggesting a little more fun with a little less backlash." She offered him a smile, not wanting the liquor and misunderstanding to turn her relatively good mood to frustration. "You can do it at the party, bring it with you, whatever you want." She said, her words still heavily slurred. "Any situation in which my parents find out how I like to spend my time won't be a good one anyway." She mumbled, mostly to herself. "Go big or go home." She shrugged again with a quiet laugh that sounded more like a scoff.
She leaned forward, pulling one knee to her chest to prop her elbow on, resting her cheek in her palm as she looked over Hunter. Even when not in a drunken state, she had to admit that she was moderately attracted to the young man. Maybe it was the red hair and pretty blue eyes, or maybe it was that combined with the 'daddy-wouldn't-approve, bad boy type that Morgan was attracted to. Either way, he fit the bill of the exact type of guy Morgan would go for. Bonus points; he liked to have a good time in much the same ways as she did. They would be a match made in heaven, if heaven was strange and twisted.