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?
Kesha's song Blow crackled at full volume in a pair of cheap headphones as Jude left Motel 51 with a pep in his step, combing a hand through his black hair. It was a futile attempt at fixing it as strands fell messily back into his eyes. He hadn't started the day thinking of a night out, but towards the end of his shift and checking in the twentieth seediest looking character into the motel had him itching to get out and do something. There was more to life than sitting behind a desk at a motel after all, or so he desperately hoped and needed a reminder of. Feeling a buzz in his pocket, Jude fished his phone out. Staring at the severely cracked screen, disinterested eyes scanned the lit screen as the phone flashed texts and missed phone calls in rapid succession. His mother, his sister, his grandmother, all flooding the entirety of the screen. Pausing in the middle of the sidewalk, he dug an old coin from his pocket, running a thumb over the impressions. With a flip of the coin, his fate for the night was decided. A crooked smile broke out across his face.
Hours later and eight shots of whiskey in, a quick glance at that cracked screen informed him it was one 1AM. The night was only beginning. Drifting through the sea of people, Jude danced with strangers, secured a handsome guy's phone number in the bathroom, ran into a coworker and gossiped about the oddballs that rolled through that night, and eventually in the blink of an eye, he found himself before a random high top table with a throng of people surrounding him. Six other players hung around the small table, shoulders tucked in as they all hunkered together to fit in the tight space around the table. Cash and random trinkets of varying value were piled haphazardly in the center. Empty shots littered what little free real estate the surface had.
Jude was on a roll and while the initial rush of wins was exhilarating, he quickly grew bored of the predictable game. Slapping another forty dollars into the pot, Jude took a step back, surveying the ever changing crowd blurring around him. Eyes narrowing, a glimmer of excitement flashed in them as his gaze settled on one particular person making their way toward the table.
"Jude, man, come on.. What's the call? What are you doing?" whined one of the players at the table, all eyes on Jude as his attention was anywhere but the card game in front of him.
Jude threw an arm out, ensnaring the passerby he had plucked out of the crowd, reeling them in to his side. Leaning in close so they could hear him over the beat of the music, he gave them a friendly smile, "I'm getting a lucky feeling from you," his breath was thick with whiskey as he gave a solid, friendly pat on their shoulder, "I have a sense for this sort of thing, y'know?" he threw in a wink.
"Tell me, call or fold?" Jude made no move to show the hand he'd been dealt. He just wanted to see what would happen.
Human
Server at Rosie’s, Barista at The Nook & ‘Camgirl’
Post by Iris Whitlock on Sept 11, 2024 3:10:40 GMT
With another week before she would be allowed to return to work, Iris decided to treat herself to a night on the town. She started with dinner at Munchies Burgers, stayed for a double feature at the drive in, and finally found herself making her way on over to Purgatory. Of course, this would have been easier if she’d just cave a bit a new car, but Iris was enjoying the time spent walking those very familiar town streets and back roads. Occasionally a friend might stop and offer her a lift, but for the lost part; the blonde found herself cutting through fields and just enjoying how peaceful those walks could a be.
It was 1AM when Iris walked into the local bar, her jeans hugging her a bit tightly after her trek through town. Blonde hair loosely held back by a claw clip, a white crop top just barely meet the top of her jeans. Her blue eyes scanned the bar for familiar faces and she smiled as she got a few nods in her way to the counter to order her drink at the bar. “Red Stag, neat.” She threw back the glass with a slight wince before shaking her head with a smile, pulling the clip from her hair before paying for the drink.
She didn’t know anyone on more than a first name basis at the table playing cards, but she was curious to see what all the excitement was about, especially since the jukebox was just past the table and she could pay for a few songs. But when she began to move pad the table, she was caught by someone’s arm and pulled toward the table.
Her expression one of slight confusion at being brought in to make a decision, but she could smell the whiskey on the guy’s breath and couldn’t help but find his words amusing. “Just don’t hold it against me if I make the wrong choice.” She said with a shrug, glancing between the dark haired guy and the table before tapping her chin. “Call.” She offered finally, gently crossing her arms and waiting to see how things unfolded from here. She’d seen him before, he wasn’t a local but had been around for a least the last several months. But she couldn’t quite place him.
A smile splayed across Jude's face at his willing participant he snatched out of nowhere. He liked to think the grin came off charming but considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed and the slight sway he had going on even with his feet planted firmly in one spot, he couldn't be completely sure.
"Where's the confidence? You're lucky, I just know it," he winked again, swaying on his feet a little as he turned his focus back to the table in front of him. "You heard the lady, I'm calling it gents!" Blind confidence oozed out of him. He had been on a lucky streak all night, what could possibly go wrong? His demeanor earned him a couple of chuckles and eyerolls from the people at the table. The game continued on. He stole a glance at the woman by his side. She looked to be about his age. He made no move to hide his blatantly roaming eyes, she was pretty. There was an air of familiarity there, but one he couldn't quite place. He was sure he'd spotted her before, but then again, people were blending together at his level of inebriation. In case his assessing gaze was caught by her, he offered a cheeky grin before turning his attention once more to the unfolding card game.
The game quickly passed before them and his lucky streak fizzled out in front of his eyes. He lost, big time. The weakest hand of the bunch, actually. One of the men next to him nudged him with his shoulder, gnawing on a toothpick as he boisterously cackled, "Shoulda got out while you were ahead hotshot. What is this? Your fourth loss this week?" Jude envisioned him choking on that toothpick while he hollered. He snickered, a conspiratorial look crossing his face. The other man didn't seem to notice.
Dark brown eyes rolled in response, he hoped it came across good-natured and his soreness at the loss didn't peek through, "You win some, you lose some. I'm just trying to save your egos boys!" He clapped the other man on the back. He really should know their names by now. Frankly, he just couldn't bring himself to care. He knew their faces and they all knew if they were looking for a game to come to this area of Purgatory. There was always some of the group loitering around.
The group was about to start again, looking at him expectantly, but Jude waved a hand dismissively through the air, shaking his head softly. "If I go 'nother round, y'all will be in trouble," A chorus of jibs and pestering resounded from the table, but Jude was already turning his attention to the blonde haired woman next to him. He was done with that. Tomorrow Jude would have a panic, realizing he'd be short money for utilities. Tonight Jude only felt the echo of a pang of guilt before he was over it.
"Shoot," he sighed, rubbing the nape of his neck, his Minnesotan accent elongating his vowels making it sound more like shooooooooot. Jude's hand came up, a whisper of a touch on the woman's back, gently steering her away from the table and towards the bar. His hand hovered at the middle of her back. Being raised in a house of women, the last thing he wanted was to come across a pure creep. He prided himself on being a gentleman. Sort of.
"So, maybe you're not lucky," he looked back over his shoulder longingly at the table, "Y'know, one of them put such a nice watch in the pot, I'm really out of a nice Rolex cause of you," he smiled, hoping to convey he's joking around as his free hand wiggled a finger at her as if to say tut-tut now.
"Least you could do is offer a man a drink after losing him his hard earned cash..?" his tone made it clear while he wanted her to, it was a mere suggestion that she could take or leave. He may have plucked her out of the crowd unsuspectingly, but he wasn't trying to hold her hostage either. Even if she did cause him to lose $200 and a shiny new watch.
Post by Iris Whitlock on Sept 13, 2024 4:22:30 GMT
Iris arched a brow, biting back a smirk as she watched him wobble on his feet, his confidence clearly buoyed by a few too many drinks. She’d seen men like him often enough—charming in their own sloppy way, running on a blend of bravado and alcohol, too caught up in the moment to realize they were already losing. She did catch his gaze on her, and that did bring the slightest rosy glow to her cheeks.
Just because she got a good amount of attention and looks, it didn’t make her immune to feeling flattered by it. Especially in person. Iris found herself quite curious to see how this all played out for him.
She couldn’t help but find herself rooting for the outcome to be in his favor. Even when it wasn’t, she did admire his rather easygoing response to losing. He seemed more amused than truly annoyed, which Iris found rather entertaining. She didn’t gamble much herself, mostly because she didn’t believe life favored her luck. She had quite the history of being dealt the worst of hands. But she’d managed and you wouldn’t find her complaining.
His touch on her lower back was just the right amount of encouraging her to move without coming off as cringy or creepy, so she found herself easily following his lead. She had to give him credit for that. At least he wasn’t too far gone to remember his manners.
Iris couldn’t help but laugh softly when he mentioned the watch, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh, now it's my fault?” She teased, nudging him lightly as they neared the moved.
Stopping at the bar, she leaned against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as she regarded him. “Alright, I’ll take pity on you for that terrible hand,” She said, shaking her head with amusement. “But let’s be real—luck had nothing to do with it.” She tossed a glance back at the card table, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “By the way, I’m Iris.”
Iris caught the bartender’s attention, ready to order two drinks. She turned back to Jude, her eyebrow raised. “And what drink will it be?” Her gaze flicking over him again, this time slower, more appraising. “I smelt whiskey, but I’m not good enough to know the type just from the scent.”
Post by Jude Hackett on Sept 16, 2024 23:59:15 GMT
"Iris, huh? That's pretty," Jude liked to think it came out as a coherent sentence but, and not for the first time tonight, he couldn't entirely tell. Not that he really cared, he decided. "Jude," he offered with a quirk of his lips, subconsciously taking a step toward her. It was a respectable distance yet, but he gravitated towards people without realizing, even more so when alcohol made one's good sense go out the door. Hell, his was probably halfway across the state by now. The tally marks on his arm crudely drawn with sharpie have since become a warbled mess of smeared black.
He watched on curiously as he stood under her assessing gaze, or in this case, was it over her appraising stare? He had a bit of height on her. "On the nose, Iris," he tapped the tip of his nose a few times, giving her an approving nod. "I'll take whatever you got buddy, think I'm a lil too fucked up to taste anyways," he directed to the bartender. Glass barely touched counter before his hand swooped in and brought it to his lips, downing it all in one go. He wasn't much for savoring. The goal any time there was alcohol and Jude was to get annihilated beyond coherent thought. Slamming his glass down with more force than he meant, a giggle burst from him, "Yo, my bad."
Jude turned his attention fully back to Iris.
"Another non-believer.." he sighed dramatically, sullenly shaking his head as if she just broke the worst news. Leaning in close enough for their shoulders to rub, Jude rested an elbow on the bar and planted his chin in his hand, eyes scanning around the bar and those going about their lives. Gesturing with his head for her to look, he had a twinkle in his eye, "You're telling me it's not luck that guy is about to get laid?" Across the way near the bathrooms there was an average man, greasy hair slick on his head with a good-lucking woman on his hip. They looked cozy as she leaned in, laughing at something he was whispering in her ear as she twirled her wavy black hair around a manicured finger. Maybe his vanity was showing, but he didn't see the appeal.
"You're telling me it's not luck that you and I met? You just happened to be walking by in this bar full of so many people and here we are," A toothy grin broke out. "Y'know, it's like that burnt toast theory." He sat up from where he rested against the bar, drumming his fingers across the surface.
"You lost me my watch, true," he paused, giving her a feigned sad look, "A tragedy I won't soon forget mind you.. But think of it, if I had won, maybe I would have kept going and you would have gone your way and you wouldn't be having the most exciting time right now." The words came out strong and confident, like Iris could not possibly want to be anywhere else. As if his word had been gospel.
"Boom. Butterfly effect," His body turned to her, an elbow going back to rest on the bar as he faced her fully, his face a look of triumph like there was no way he couldn't have convinced her that life wasn't just lady luck stringing them all along for a wild ride.
Jude had no idea he just mixed up his theories. Butterfly effect, burnt toast theory. Basically same thing, right?
Post by Iris Whitlock on Sept 17, 2024 1:28:27 GMT
Iris raised an eyebrow, amused as she watched Jude down his drink in one swift motion, the glass clinking against the bar a little too loudly. The giggle that followed only widened her smile, and she shook her head, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. This guy was something else, and though he was clearly several drinks in, she had to admit he was entertaining.
“Jude, huh?” she repeated, her voice smooth, playing along. “Well, I’ll give you this—your optimism is impressive. Blind, but impressive.”
She turned her attention to where he was pointing, her blue eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the couple by the bathrooms. The guy did look a bit rough, but who was she to judge? Maybe the woman was into that whole greasy, mysterious vibe. Either way, Iris knew enough about people to realize appearances didn’t mean much in places like this.
“Maybe it’s not luck at all,” She mused, leaning into the bar as she swirled her drink around in its glass. “Maybe that guy over there is charming, or at least, he’s saying exactly what she wants to hear. Sometimes it’s not about luck—it’s about knowing the game.” Her gaze shifted back to Jude, the faintest hint of a challenge dancing in her eyes.
When he turned fully toward her, triumph written all over his face, Iris tilted her head, crossing her arms loosely under her chest as she leaned back against the bar. She let the silence stretch for a beat, watching him, letting his confidence fill the space between them. He was kind of cute when he wasn’t losing himself in his own nonsense.
“Burnt toast theory, huh?” She couldn’t resist a laugh then, shaking her head again as her fingers idly drummed on the arms. “I hate to break it to you, Jude, but mixing up your theories doesn’t exactly make your argument stronger. But…” She uncrossed her arms, leaning in just a little closer, her eyes locking on his. “I’ll give you this: maybe there’s a little luck in us meeting tonight.”
She flashed him a grin, one that was equal parts playful and challenging, before finishing off her drink in one smooth motion. “But let’s be clear—you lost that watch all on your own.” Her tone softened, becoming teasing again. “And as for whether this is the most exciting time I could be having…” She let her words hang in the air for a moment, her eyes twinkling as she pushed off the bar, standing a little closer now.
"Ah!" Jude exclaimed with a snap of his fingers, "but you said impressive. I will take impressive," he replied in sing song voice, a soft lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He took a moment to study her while she turned to look at the couple he'd pointed out. She carried herself with an air of grace, unlike his bumbling drunk self. For a fraction of a second, his expression muted. Insecurity digging in low in his stomach. By the time she had turned her attention to her drink, he wiped the traces of it off of his face, easing back into his devil may care facade.
"Knowing the game, huh?" he turned the words over in his head as her gaze found him once more. He could have sworn he saw something there, in those pretty blue eyes, but being fucked up made it pretty difficult to discern what was underneath. Probably a trick of the light. The tilt of her head as she casually leaned back against the bar drew him in, finding himself none too bothered by the silence that hung in the air. Normally, he was always trying to fill it.
Iris' laugh garnered a wide smile out of Jude, "I don't know, Iris," he paused, her name slurring out more into something like 'Irish,' but he hardly took note of his blunder before he continued on, "I'd say I still make a pretty compelling argument, minor details aside." A look of subtle victory once more washed over his face as she conceded, just a little. He felt her lean in closer, and made no move to pull away. In fact, he bridged the gap a little more himself, lightly touching her arm with his hand, taking a small step closer, unaware himself of the gesture.
"Agree to disagree on the watch, but you did buy me a drink so I 'spose we're square," he teased in kind, "I'll let you off the hook." By the time Iris pushed herself away from the bar, having finished off her own drink, there wasn't much space left between them. He found himself hoping his sweat from a night of dancing and drinking wasn't too offensive on the nose. He'd sprayed some cheap cologne on when he went to work this morning but that was, well, hours ago.
"Oh, well, I do love a challenge." Brown eyes met blue, he held her gaze for a minute before saying anything further. "Y'know, I could use some fresh air," he stepped back, but only a fraction. He removed his hand from where it had rested on her arm, instead now raking it through messy black hair. He fished through his pockets, lifting out and dangling a set of motel keys he forgot to leave at work, "Fancy a swim? Luxury facilities I'm tellin' you," lightly, he rolled his eyes as he continued, "finest in all of Sweetwater," he paused then, wondering if he had been too forward. He backpedaled, a sheepish look on his face, "Or y'know, whatever you want, I am at your disposal." Jude leaned up against the bar, setting the motel keys on the bar space between them, "I am a pretty good dancer, if I say so myself."
Jude briefly wondered then if she came with anyone, but seeing as she was still here, he didn't worry too much on his blatant attempt to take up more of her time.
Post by Iris Whitlock on Sept 17, 2024 3:07:06 GMT
Iris tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes locking onto Jude’s as she caught his little slip-up with her name. Irish, huh? The smirk tugging at the corner of her lips deepened, but she let it slide for now. She watched as he fumbled through his words, clearly trying to maintain his cool despite the alcohol weighing down his every move. His charm was clumsy, but there was an unspoken confidence beneath it that intrigued her just enough to keep her around.
The brush of his hand on her arm was warm, and she allowed it for a moment before he pulled back, dangling his keys like a carrot. A swim? She wasn’t sure if he was serious or just drunk enough to think it was a good idea. Either way, she couldn’t deny it was amusing.
Iris leaned on the bar, propping herself up with her elbow, and let her eyes drop to the keys in his hand. "A swim?" She echoed, her tone teasing, like she was humoring him. Her gaze flicked back up to his face, a slow smile spreading. "You're really selling the idea of motel luxury to me, huh? Bold move."
Her fingers traced the rim of her empty glass as she let the silence settle between them for a beat. She could tell he was waiting for her to make the next move, the slight shift in his expression betraying his curiosity, or maybe even nervousness. She liked having the upper hand here—watching him wonder if he'd been too forward, backpedaling just enough to give her room to walk away if she wanted.
But she didn’t.
With a smooth motion, she slid off the barstool and stepped closer to him, catching the scent of cheap cologne that had faded with the night’s sweat. She didn’t mind—it was the energy that mattered, and he had plenty of that.
"Alright, Jude," She said, her voice low but clear, the hint of a challenge in her tone. "A swim sounds fun, but I’ve got one condition." She let her eyes linger on his for a moment, her smirk growing. "You show me those dancing skills you’re so confident about first."
Without waiting for his response, she slipped the keys from the bar, twirling them between her fingers as she started toward the door. "Come on," She called over her shoulder, glancing back at him with a playful gleam in her eye. "You said you’re a good dancer, right? Prove it."
She wasn’t entirely sure where the night was going, but she was interested enough to find out. Besides, it wasn’t every night she found someone as entertaining as Jude—whether it was the alcohol or something else, he was pulling her in. And if he could actually dance, well, maybe she'd be impressed after all.