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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Nov 11, 2010 2:01:38 GMT -8
Time: Afternoon
Weather: Sunny
Warnings: None.
Characters: Charlotte Jacobs, Tamika Weir, Wes Uccello, Atlas
Charlotte picked her way carefully through the row of gravestones, camera in hand. Graveyards had always fascinated her, ever since she was a child. The sort of eerie atmosphere appealed to her. As soon as she was old enough to be allowed to go places on her own, she'd set out to explore the local cemeteries. They were a constant. The places changed, the people changed... but there would always be graveyards. No matter where she and her mother had moved.
That had been one of the first things Charlotte had done upon arriving in Greenvale. Aside from getting a room at the Deer Yard Hotel. And exploring the town, of course. It helped her figure out where everything was in relation to each other.
Kneeling down, Charlotte took several photos of a vine-covered gravestone. She hadn't seen the gravekeeper since arriving, but he was undoubtedly somewhere about the graveyard. Brushing off her knees, she continued winding her way through the rows of gravestones.
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Post by Wes Uccello on Nov 14, 2010 2:01:27 GMT -8
Wes did not know all that much about Greenvale; he'd pretty much closed his eyes and pointed at a map until he found a town that sounded decent. All he really cared about was that it was a quiet place with a small population. In light of recent events, however, he was wanting to know more about the town just outside his door.
After his last foray out into town (a horrible failure by most any standards) he wasn't feeling like heading downtown, so he thought he'd investigate the outskirts and see what turned up.
He wasn't alone this time, though. This time, he headed out with a hawk perched on his fist. In his head, this was a good idea for a few reasons; it meant that she could get out and see part of the town he hadn't flown her in before, he had some degree of moral support, and most people who wouldn't want to deal with him would be scared off from the get-go.
Wes and his hooded friend eventually came across the town's graveyard, which struck him as a pretty good place to get an idea about the townspeople without having to talk to them. Seeing no indicator that he couldn't enter with a bird (indeed, there were dogs roaming around...) he made his way over to the graves, taking his time to look around.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Nov 14, 2010 17:23:14 GMT -8
Charlotte knelt down beside one of the older looking gravestones in the graveyard. It was small, a little cockeyed, and the name on it was completely hidden under layers of dirt, grime and moss. If a gravestone could be sad, this gravestone was sad. She... kind of felt sorry for it, actually. Framing the shot carefully, she took several photos. Then Charlotte pulled a kerchief out of her jeans pocket and gently brushed the dirt, grime and moss off it. That's better. Re-pocketing the now-dirty kerchief she took several more photos before rising to her feet.
Charlotte blinked in surprise. There was someone else in the graveyard. That did not look like a gravekeeper. And... is that a bird? Yes, it was definitely a bird. A bird in a hood. Well... that's different.
The man with the bird didn't look familiar to her. Though, while Greenvale was a small town it wasn't like she'd gone out of her way to meet every single one of the town's inhabitants. MOST of the inhabitants, really.
Looked like she might end up meeting someone new today. Camera still in hand, Charlotte went ahead and continued on the way she'd been heading. Which would take her across the strange man's path.
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Post by Tamika Weir on Nov 14, 2010 20:43:17 GMT -8
Tamika stared up at the sign stating that the location she was at was the Greenvale Graveyard. "How did I end up here?" She knew the answer perfectly well however. She had pulled out of the Milk Barn parking lot, randomly decided to take a right, and had driven down Tree St., which for some reason turned into October St.. Tamika at first thought that she had taken a wrong turn since all that seemed to be down that road was trees and more trees. When she finally found a parking lot, she didn't really care what it was a parking lot for. She just wanted to get out of the car. Now she was regretting that decision. "I shouldn't have come here. This was a bad idea. This will only remind me of...back then." Almost on cue, Tamika began remembering again.
A girl in a black dress was sitting in the grass in a graveyard. She had her head buried in her hands. "She's dead. She's dead and it's all my fault," she muttered to herself. Her father stood next to her, staring at a gravestone that she wanted so hard to wish away. He didn't say anything, just continued to stare at the grave of a woman they would both give up everything to bring back to life.
"No. That is the past. That was 1994. This is 2006. You are in the Greenvale Graveyard. You are not there. You are not that little girl." Tamika took a deep breath and faced the graveyard in front of her. Many gravestones were scattered around, some new, some old, a few even open. She also saw two figures amongst the graves as well. One look like a woman, who was taking pictures of one of the older graves. "Maybe she's related to the deceased." The other was a man walking around a little ways a way from the woman. He had something on his arm. "Is that a bird? Oookaaay...I guess if you can walk a dog, you can walk a bird. Maybe."
"Well, time to begin meeting random new people round two: creepy graveyard edition." Tamika began to make her way amongst the graves, occasionally stopping to observe a few. "Maybe spending some time here will help me lay some of my own ghosts to rest," she thought as she picked along a path that would take her by the man and the woman.
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Post by Wes Uccello on Nov 14, 2010 23:49:53 GMT -8
Much to his frustration, Wes noticed the two women wandering the graveyard as well. What was this? Was someone following him, or having him followed? There had to be some good reason for three people to turn up in a tiny town's graveyard at the same time. Perhaps the murder just had them thinking about lost loved ones? That made as much sense as anything, he guessed.
He turned his attention first to the one with the camera; that one bothered him more. He went on fairly casually, though not as carelessly as if he had been alone, and waited till he came across her.
He looked to her, to her camera, then at the hawk on his fist, which he pet gently with his free hand before looking back at the photographer... but not directly. He didn't like to look people in the eyes when he confronted them.
"If you take a picture, she'll steal your camera," he warned preemptively.
The other one - the one with the bright hair - stayed in his peripheral vision and in the back of his mind. She was staring - he was pretty sure of that - but it was most likely at the bird. Not because of him.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Nov 15, 2010 0:08:02 GMT -8
Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the strange man's opening line. She hadn't intended on taking any photos of the man OR his bird, but to assuage his... concern, she slipped the camera into her pocket. Then she raised her empty hand slightly, as though to prove to him that she no longer held it.
Interestingly, he didn't look her directly in the eyes when he spoke to her. Maybe he just doesn't dig eye contact. Not everyone is that comfortable with other people Charlotte mused silently.
"I didn't expect anyone else to be here," she replied, offering him a lopsided half-smile. "Normally people don't come here without some sort of specific purpose." On the edge of her vision she caught a glimpse of another person, a young woman with brightly coloured hair. It appeared that she was going to be meeting all sorts of people today.
Apparently I'm not the only one that had the idea to come to the graveyard. The thought unnerved her a little. Was she regularly going to run into people every time she came out here? Part of the reason she returned to the graveyard was the lack of other people.
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Post by Tamika Weir on Nov 15, 2010 5:30:26 GMT -8
"Hmm...Maybe they know each other," Tamika thought after seeing the two figures talking to each other. She continued moving amongst the graves, occasionally stopping in front of one. Tamika's path was a slightly meandering one, yet still moving closer toward the two figures.
Once she was finally within speaking range of them, she was sure on a few things. "Yes, that is a bird he's holding. His hair is also died green on the sides. Wieeeerd." The woman had put her camera away. She didn't look in mourning and the grave looked to old for it to be anyone the woman would have known. "So why was she taking pictures of it?" Tamika decided that she had wandered long enough and that it was time to jump in on their conversation in the politest way possible. "Hello there," she said, directed towards both of them. Then, after turning towards the weird man, she added with a kind smile, "Take your bird for a walk around here often?"
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Post by Atlas on Nov 15, 2010 16:26:00 GMT -8
Atlas shifted his pickup truck intro stop in front of the gates of the cemetary. Ever since he moved to Greenvale, he visited the graveyard often for several reasons. The main reason was the red trees in the heart of the graveyard, which were unfortunately fenced off. The other was reading the epitaths on the gravestones, several of which he found amusing. Today, he would eat a quick sandwich while once again reading epitaths and trying to come up with back stories for the people that lay there.
He opened the gate to the graveyard and walked in. Greenvale's graveyard wasn't the biggest one he had ever been in, especially compared to the one in the city he used to live, but it was decent enough. Quiet too, when he wanted to concentrate on cases. Many of the usual gravestones were scattered around. "Hello, my friends. It's good to see that you're still here. I missed you too." Atlas said casually towards them. They responded with silence.
As he walked along the dirt path, he saw some other people talking. One of them was a scarred man with a leather jacket and a hawk perched on the fist of his hand. With him were two women with different shades of red hair. "I didn't know the graveyard suddenly was a popular picnic spot." he thought, taking a piece of bacon out of his sandwich and nibbling on it. "Or is the guy trying to pick up those two girls. Bit of a weird spot to look for women, but I can somewhat see the logic..." his mind wandered. "I didn't come here to add new people to my social network, but somehow, I feel like I'm going to do so anyways. At the very least, I'll learn how to get a pet hawk."
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Post by Wes Uccello on Nov 15, 2010 21:40:27 GMT -8
'Not that comfortable with other people' summed Wes up pretty well, actually.
"Good. I'm just sick of people gawking at her like she's a tourist attraction and thinking it's okay to take a picture..." His tone was a little annoyed but not too harsh.
"Kind of like when people take pictures of random strangers' resting places, hm?" he sneered. There was the harshness. He was thinking the same about the people here, though. There was another one now. Were people seriously going to follow him everywhere in this town?
"To answer your thinly-veiled question... I was just going for a walk along the roads and ended up here. I don't know the town all that well..." A little sarcastic now, but not as caustic as before.
He then turned his attention to the bright-haired one, who he noticed was being quite friendly.
"Hello, sunshine," he said, responding to her greeting with a quip that may or may not have been good-natured. "Not here specifically."
Again, he took note of the man wandering around, but at the moment he was concerned with the red-heads.
The hawk, meanwhile, was also concerned with the red-head who just approached, watching her bright hair intently.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Nov 15, 2010 22:09:05 GMT -8
She knew the young woman with bright hair was standing nearby, and she fully intended on saying hello soon enough. But first things first.
Charlotte smirked up at the man with the hawk, one hand resting on her hip. She’d been trying SO hard to keep her sarcasm in check, and here was someone who brought it out in her full force. Oh well. To hell with it. Her smirk grew.
“It’s not at all the same, actually. And other than noticing that you HAD a hawk, I wasn’t paying her much attention at all.”
The harshness in his tone hadn’t bothered her much at all. There had been a fair amount of bite in hers. Didn’t seem like there was much sense in being otherwise with this man.
“They do have these things, you might have heard of them? They’re called maps. One might help,” Charlotte replied. “And there was no veiled question. Simply a statement.”
Then she turned her gaze on the young woman.
“Hi.”
Beyond her shoulder Charlotte caught sight of yet another person wandering the graveyard. Oh for crying out loud...
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Post by Brian the Insomniac on Nov 15, 2010 23:49:58 GMT -8
The grave keeper was there. Oh, he was there. Always. It was just a matter of whether the people could see him or not....
But with this many people suddenly out and about, he was actively hiding at present, watching from his little covered shack from beneath the brim of his hat. "P-people. So many. People. Don't know - any - of them. Don't know." He pressed a pale hand momentarily to the window of the shack, pulling it promptly back out of view where he wouldn't be seen. He didn't want to be out in the fray with all those people...not yet.
They weren't ready to see him yet.
"Visitors. So many. Too many. Visitors."
He sat down away from the window in the shack, staring ahead at the wall for the time being. He had seen enough. He would wait for a time before he tended to the graves.
((This is just a little announcement of sorts that Brian IS HERE. He's not out in the yard with this many people, but there is a reason for his presence...for now, none of you can see him.))
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Post by Atlas on Nov 16, 2010 7:17:23 GMT -8
Atlas looked over at the gravekeeper's house. For a while, he wondered if anyone lived there, but one day, had noted a tired-eyed man go in and out of the house. "I wonder if he is here today. Probably best to leave him alone if he is. He seems like one of those types." he thought to himself.
He circled the graveyard some more and looked at the epitaths. Here lies "Average" Joe Phillips. He died as he lived: sitting on his ass with a Heineken. He looked at the empty beer bottles surrounding the graved and smirked. "It's always good to see honesty when remembering the death. Usually, it's always the same "Here lies Psychopath McMurderfolk, like a lamb in the arms of God." Good for them."
His walk led him to the same group of people again. He could hear their voices, but not make out what they were saying. The man with the hawk didn't sound the most pleasant person in the world and he let it be known, though the lighter tinted redhead had plenty of bite as well. He was curious, so he approached the group casually. "I see the graveyard is a popular picnic destination."
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Post by Tamika Weir on Nov 16, 2010 15:27:54 GMT -8
"Jeez, who crapped in his coffee? Tamika did not care for the bird guy one bit, but she wouldn't show it. She would just keep smiling and being perky. "So, raincloud, do you have a name?" Tamika asked perkily. She also did not like how raincloud's bird was looking at her hair. "Oh God, if it craps on me, I swear, I will kill that bird."
Tamika was not in the best position to see the graveyard entrance, but she did catch a glimpse of the newcomer as he approached. "What is this? National Go to the Graveyard Day?" The newcomer's greeting seemed a tad odd to Tamika. "Does this look like a picnic to him? Who eats in a graveyard anyway?" Then noticing his sandwich, Tamika's perpetual perky expression almost went dumbstruck. "This isn't a graveyard. It's an insane asylum!" Recovering, she replied, "Apparently so. I sadly did not bring anything to eat. Graveyards aren't normally hot picnic spots where I come from."
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Post by Wes Uccello on Nov 16, 2010 19:02:23 GMT -8
On the outside, Wes rolled his eyes and bared his teeth, looking rather annoyed. On the inside, though, he was excited; a challenge! This girl wasn't being a punching bag, and he was happy to actually get a rise out of someone. It helped him to feel more justified in his behavior; he would rather act caustic than look weak.
"Good for you, then! And it is at least kind of the same. You are taking a picture of something of great personal value to someone without their permission, even though it isn't completely theirs in the eyes of the law," he ranted. Wes did not like people taking photos without permission, clearly. He licked the front of his teeth.
"When did I ever say I got lost? I was looking around because I wanted to and having a perfectly fine time until a party apparently decided to start. Don't take me for an idiot." However acidic his tone was, he seemed to be keeping fairly collected as he looked over to the bright-haired one.
"I do, but I'm not sure-" He was cut off by a loud, sharp call from the hawk aimed the woman, or more accurately her hair. The falconer shushed the bird then added, somewhat reassuringly, "Don't worry, she'll yell but she won't try to take out your eyes or anything." He moved his arm to try to get her out of the bird's narrowed field of sight, but in doing that called her attention instead to the sandwich.
He didn't have any words for the man who'd approached. Wes figured that he'd been listening.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Nov 16, 2010 19:53:46 GMT -8
All the stranger with the bird’s rolling his eyes and baring his teeth just made her smirk more. She was enjoying this more than she probably ought to be. It was a rarity that she got to trade barbs with someone.
“Isn’t it though? And your hearty disapproval just hurts me so,” Charlotte retorted, pressing a hand to her heart as though his chastisement hurt her very soul. “Whatever will I do?”
She laughed then, dropping her hand from her chest.
“I never said you got lost, either. YOU said you didn’t know the town that well. I said a map would help. And the graveyard is a public place. Believe me, I’d much rather spent my time here alone, but you and everyone else showed up, so I’m dealing.” She shrugged, as if to say ”Such is the way of things.”
“I don’t have to take you for an idiot.” She didn’t bother adding that he was quite possibly acting like one, but her tone more than implied it.
She didn’t pay much heed to the other man that had decided to join them at the moment. She was bound to find out who he was eventually. And maybe why he’s eating a sandwich in the graveyard. Instead she glanced at the other woman, who had asked the stranger with the bird his name.
“Somehow I doubt you’re going to get a name out of him. I’m Charlotte. And I didn’t know graveyards were the perfect places for picnics either.”
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