a town called lethe. open

[WitchHazel]

🗡 Liliana Swann 🗡
tourist; PI | 28 | location: train → train station | tags: rike| mentions: matty

Liliana sat next to a window, back firmly pressed against the chair. Though her eyes were trained on the contents of a manila folder, her ears remained open for any sign of danger. One couldn't be too careful in her line of work. Savage animal attacks... could be a black dog. Or even just a human with a pair of wolverine-style gloves. The latter seemed a bit far-fetched. What if it's a -
Her thoughts derailed as the train came to a screeching halt.
Abrupt as it was, only one thing ran through her mind. Not my stop.
She continued pouring over her case files until it became apparent that the train wasn't about to start moving anytime soon. What the hell is going on? A glance up from her papers revealed frightened passengers; some chatting amongst themselves and some frantically searching their maps for answers.
Wait a minute. This isn't on the schedule. There was a voice. Someone saying they should wait. Then another; one of dissent. "My kind of person." More of a mutter to herself than anything, but loud enough to be heard by passers-by. With that said, the scarred woman shoved her case files back into their folder and that into a black duffel bag. The small notebook she carried fit nicely into the pocket of her red-brown leather jacket; an article with pockets sized for men. Women's clothing never had deep enough pockets, in Liliana's opinion.
Not one to leave her meager belongings, she slung the bag over her shoulder and stalked after the young rebel who had departed the train. They have the right idea. Nothing is going to get done if everyone's just sitting around on their asses.
The defiant individual was yelling into an empty town. I take that back. Not my kind of person. Wait... was the town really empty? Liliana swore she could see a figure approaching. She blinked, and it was gone. Huh. That's... weird. Just a trick of the light, or something more? She had learned early on that nothing could be discounted.
The other passenger seemed convinced that the driver was dead. Liliana hadn't the heart nor the motivation to convince them otherwise. Instead, she regarded the signpost with a brow that furrowed further the more she read. Rules? What kind of a town has rules? Some of the rules scrawled across the signpost made little sense. Maybe this town isn't all there. Lethe... she had never heard of it before. A town, that was. The river Lethe of the Greek Underworld was a different story. A river of forgetting... Speaking of that, I should jot down these 'rules' before I forget. Not necessarily to follow, but for future study. If they were going to be stuck in this 'Lethe'; she might as well do what research she could about the place. And if not... well, she was a PI. It was her job to investigate. Even if she was technically on vacation.


☙ Amelia Porter ❧
resident; librarian | location: Lethe Public Library | tags: open

"You're not supposed to be here."
The old, dirt-covered book stood out amongst the pristine hardbacks that had caught Miss Amelia Porter's discerning eye. That bloody book. The one that could never get clean no matter how much she scrubbed at it's muddy surface. DIG. One word, scratched into the leather cover as if by a fingernail. DIG.
She knew she shouldn't. It wouldn't be wise to. But the book was in control now, and her fingers were fluttering across the dusty pages before she could stop herself. DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG. Page after page of the same blasted word.
Her fingernails itched to have soil beneath them. Her body longed to be encased in earth. She saw herself scrabbling at the wooden floorboards of the library; desperate to get to the rich dirt below. And then -
She snapped the book closed.
"Oh dearie me! It seems I've missed another one."
The many-voiced whispers of DIG echoed in her mind even still. "Into the restricted section you go. Can't have any travellers stumbling upon you now, can we?"
Travellers. That was right. They were coming today. She didn't know how she knew it was today. She just knew. It was one of those things.
The dreams had only grown more intense as of late. The girl stained with shadow. The great beast. The mass of shifting fog in the shape of a person. They were coming. They were here.
It wouldn't pay to have books like DIG out in the open. No no, it wouldn't pay at all.
She shuffled her petite frame into the back of the library, unlocking the small wooden door with the skeleton key that lived in her pocket.
DIG, said the book.
No, she told it sternly.
DIG was placed carefully beside others like it. Others containing things that should not be. The only remainder of its presence; the dust clouding Amelia's pristine white gloves. "Oh, blast it all. Look what you've done! Now I'll have to get them laundered."
The key clicked in the look once more, sealing the damned book in with it. Retracing her steps to the front of the building, she stripped off the filthy gloves and deposited them into a small ziploc. The ziploc was subsequently placed inside a neatly organised drawer. Another pair was quickly acquired; their white lace curled in beautiful floral patterns. "Always grand to have a back-up. Right. Where was I?"

[tawneypelt0504]

Cordelia Remington|180 years old|she/her|Resident|Empath|Bisexual|Loc:Street|Tags/Mentions: Veronica,open
Cordelia walked down the street, her black stilettos clicked against the concrete as she walked. Cora was currently taking both Alastor and Abigail for their walk before she opened the art gallery. Cora always enjoyed these morning walks despite the many times she had done them, she always found it rather peaceful to walk around the small town. Cora was about to turn around towards the gallery when she noticed both of her dogs had stopped their ears pricked forward. Cora stopped slightly confused but didn't need to wonder for long before she too heard the noise of the train pulling into the station. A grin appeared on her face as she heard the noise "My my it's been a while since we've had visitors, we shall have to go and welcome them, darlings" Cordelia murmured to her dogs before starting her walk over to the train station stopping to check her reflection in a nearby shop window 'first impressions are the most important part to one's reputation' Cordelia could hear her mother's words even now despite the fact it had been decades since she had so much as seen her mother. Satisfied that not a hair was out of place and she was also rather happy with the outfit she chose that day. Black high-waisted pants with a yellow, black, and red floral blouse, to top it all off a black Panama hat. Cora clearly looked well put together and fashionable, at least in her opinion.
Cora only hoped that her stilettos didn't make her height intimidating. Scaring off potential customers and perhaps new clients was bad for business. Realizing she was dallying too long Cordelia turned and headed towards the station "come along then my pretties" Cora crooned to her dogs as they followed obediently beside her. Cordelia caught a glimpse of something fluttering in the sky ahead of her. Realizing it was Veronica, Cora smiled up at the butterfly lady glad to be able to take the trip with a friend. "Greetings Dear Veronica, are you heading out to greet our visitors as well" Cora called out to the fellow resident with a smile, her blue eyes shining with delight. Although she didn't have the ability to see into the future Cora could certainly tell today was going to be quite interesting.

[rookfern]

───
─𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶: perturbed
─𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: sheriff's station; train station─𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂: clive (ment.); open

♠ 𝚂𝙰𝙼 𝙻𝚄𝚉𝙸𝙾, male; (looks 27) 316 years; dep. sheriff
───────────────────────────────────────────────
──────────────"i woke up from the same dream, falling backwards"


As with most mornings, Sam was up as dawn was just beginning to show itself along the horizon, and the air was starting to stir. His waking ritual was no different: get dressed; lace up his boots; grab a small something from his small kitchen (this morning: a bagel), along with a coffee ─ heavy cream; and throw on his ever-present jacket. Then he was out the door, doing his best to ignore his misty surroundings as he trekked to the sheriff's station. It was a brisk walk, as always, and it helped to clear the remaining fogginess of sleep from his mind. He spent little time actually in the station, only lingering long enough to sign in, grab his gear for the day, and make a short round through the building. Nothing was amiss, so he showed himself back out the door.

Only when his foot touched the bottom step of the station's stairs did he let out a breath. A feeling tingled at the nape of his neck. Sam swiped at it irritably and swallowed a scowl. Movement caught his attention in his periphery, and he tracked a lone magpie as it winged its way past him. Instinct had him nodding his head to it in a silent greeting. He glanced the way it had come and spied one of Lethe's residents loitering outside of the community center. If Clive caught his half-hearted greeting from the distance, he couldn't tell, because the squealing of the train's brakes had already grabbed his attention away. New tourists?

"Of course..." Sam muttered under his breath. He didn't mind the tourists occasionally dropping in, on whatever strange whims ran Lethe, but they always certainly brought trouble with them. He stirred his feet into action and shook the collar of his jacket in the hopes of dispelling the strange sensation tickling his nerves. No luck. Grumbling, Sam made his way to the train station to greet the new arrivals. If he took his time in getting there, he could hardly be faulted; it was still morning yet, after all.

[MoonAero]

Lorenzo - resident - tags: open

The only light that ventured into the small, dark bedroom where Lorenzo lounged on the loveseat was that of a few rare ribbons of sunbeams that leaked through the thick curtains hanging over the solitary window behind the head of the bed. Sleep had never been a problem for him, not until the past two weeks anyway. Last night Lorenzo had clocked in a solid 2.5 hours of snoozing before his mind shook him awake and peeled his eyes open for the remainder of the night. His hair was disheveled, not from tossing and turning of a restless night but rather from his own hands which clawed at his head and face all night. Something odd was happening to Lorenzo; it was like he was plagued with nightmares that came more often when he wasn’t sleeping. An uneasiness had seeped into him.

His legs, almost without waiting for the brain’s permission, demanded to move and took Lorenzo to the window. The curtains ripped open. Squinting into the daylight, he watched blankly as the town’s residents began their day. With a dull exhale, he moved to the bathroom where he put his only ounces of energy into making himself not look exhausted. After his face was washed and hair tamed, he pushed himself out the door and onto the cobblestone path.


Ryon - tourist - tags: open

Pain radiated deep into her body and her muscles convulsed. Ryon groaned as she tried to see through her blurring vision. She tasted metal in her mouth and spat blood into the air during her attempts of taking a deep breath. She was dripping with blood, wet with liquid life. How had it comes to this? Ryon couldn’t form a cohesive thought. As she tried looking around at her surrounding, a high pitched shriek caught her attention. She whipped her head around to the left, but only saw darkness. Throwing her head to the right, she saw darkness at first. Then the light began to come through. The shrieking got louder, almost unbearable. The sound, at first distant, was suddenly right there in front of her. Her body jolted and her eyes became wide with fear. Her eyes, finally open, absorbed the scene around her. No darkness, no blood. It was actually rather bright in the cabin of the train. She instantly grabbed her own arms, wrists, then neck. Her body was dry, thank God, and without a trace of blood. PTSD at its finest.

Ryon cleared her throat and quietly looked around as the train came to a slow halt. She had no idea how long she had been asleep or if this was even her stop. She saw a few other passengers toward the front of the train car, but remained silent in her seat. After a moment of studying the passengers, who seemed to be concerned about this upcoming station, she stood and made her way over to the window. Lethe, she mouthed to herself.

[strawbs.]

───── 𝑫𝑹. 𝑨𝑻𝑳𝑨𝑺 𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹 !
[ doctor ,, 774 years ,, he/him ,, location hospital ,, tags open ]


atlas sat within the darkness of his office, allowing the silence to settle into the depths of his mind. these were the moments where he felt the most at peace: in the dark and alone. his emotions were numb at this point, settling in the depths where no worries remained. of course, he was never one to worry. no, it wasn't in his genes. because, what would be the point in that? it just made everything more worse. still, there was something there, in his head, where the darkness roams, itching at him for his attention. he wasn't sure what, how, or why... but things were different. the darkness enhanced everything around ─ made him tick, almost. atlas was most at peace in the dark, yet the dark could still be so terrifying. he doesn't know fear because his mind has desensitized him to it.

the town of lethe is an unnatural place with unnatural people. when atlas had arrived, he was skittish and jumpy, then he shifted into the world of abnormality, now he is who he feared before. he can't say he misses how it used to be, or how he used to be, because he doesn't remember it. it's long forgotten; the magpie carried it away where the wind wanted it, into the forest where he doesn't dare to go. as one of the longest, living residents, atlas has seen the town grow from the bottom up, watched all the new people come through, lost souls who don't even remember where they came from or where they were going. there are many different, many that are much the same. he's observed them all, and wonders too, what makes them tick. what will bring out the worst in another? whenever he meets someone new, that's what he thinks. sometimes he pushes the urge back. other times, he submits.

there was a shift, a feeling. the air vibrated, tickled at his hairs, made them stand on end. atlas merely tilted his head at it all in wonder. the last time he grew curious, he found himself here in lethe. he'd wait until it was his concern. the darkness is peaceful, until it isn't.

[Takara]

✵ | dante aenoure
| 20 | male (he/him) | tourist
| tags; train crew, matty--> train station crew, rosemary

Dante glared out the window at the passing countryside. What had been ticketed as 'the experience of a lifetime!' had so far only disappointed. He watched the forests roll by with pointed disinterest, face pressed into the cold glass as if that would put down his headache. It must be the blasted train movement, He mused to himself. Every little bump on the tracks translated into a joustling of the car, which in turn rocked his head into the window. I'll bet no one has serviced this death trap in the last fifty years!

As if to prove his pessimistic hypothesis, the train ground to a halt, steady at last! Just like that, Dante was on his feet, snatching his duffle from the overhead compartment like a man on the run. But of course, it wasn't that easy. It was never that easy. He sighed as some man voiced their cruel luck.

"Yeah right, you do that then, I'm off." He grumbled at the man, hiking his bag over one shoulder and moving to follow the other brave souls. Dante followed a women with blonde hair, who was anxiously spewing off what ifs that were blind to the truth: they were stranded. They had besn fortunate enough to have landed in a train station, but they were stranded just the same. He shook his head at her sunny veneer, but made no comment. They wouldn't be here long enough for it to matter.

A sign post stood to met them but Dante didn't bother reading past the first line. Okay grandma, I'll respect others and follow the golden rule. Any other bright tips? He scoffed, shuffling to the side to let other passengers out.

[Guest]

𐇵 𓄹 𓄼 claire aster
resident ・tagged: rike hinode ・ location: her cabin, outskirts of the field, train station

"oh, edward, they must be so tried. they must not have gotten any good rest on the train" claire said, worriedly as edward squeaked at her."what should i wear? i should make a good impression on them... this should be fine..." she stood still for some time, standing in tall grass and wildflowers, inhaling the sweet scent of wildflowers, letting the cool breeze calm her. edward scurried back into her satchel."i suppose everyone is making their way to the train station now... better not be late, hm?" she said to herself before finally running toward the train station.
as she paused to take a breath, she caught a glimpse of the white puffs of smoke in the sky, sighing in relief. she thought she would be running forever. as she got closer, she heard someone screaming. she could make out a faint "i think the driver's died!" and an even fainter "hello?" she hoped everyone onboard was ok. something might have gone wrong with the brakes. maybe they crashed into something."hello! are you alright?" she said loudly, hoping they would hear her, and that someone who knew first aid would show up. she hated the sight of blood and injuries, and it certainly wouldn't make a good impression. she shuddered at the thought of the driver being... less than alright. but she knew the magpie wouldn't let that happen. the magpie would certainly take care of that. she murmered a thank you to the magpie before brushing off the bits of grass and dried flowers that had caught in her dress and stepping onto the platform.

[Kveykva]

──────── 𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞
[✦] | Psychopomp | Resident - Doctor | ➡ Lethe Public Library | Tags: Amelia
❝ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙❞

Today was a big day. Granted, every day in Lethe boasted something special, but today cried louder than the others. Today was ~visitor~ day, and Tavie wanted to be first in line to welcome them to their little slice of paradise. She wasn't sure how the others knew; the residents, the ones who followed the laws of the land and often forgot Tavie even lived there with them. Something about Lethe, they supposed. Still, Tavie didn't want to go alone on their first day. The tourists were likely to forget Tavie just as quickly as they'd met her. The thought crossed her mind that a companion would remedy that. "Amelia!" Tavie purred from among the shelves. "Just the lovely lady I wanted to see~" She spoke as though she hadn't been seeking the librarian out specifically. "You know what today is, don't you? We're due for guests, and I know you want to meet them just as much as I do. Care to go with me to do the deed?" Today, it seemed Tavie's eyes were blue, with a hint of brown in the center. Her hair fell in tight brown curls around her face, and always, she was wearing her hospital badge over a very casual outfit. Sometimes it was hard to remember she was a doctor.

──────── 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲-𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧
[✦] | "Guppy" | Human | Tourist | Train ➡ Train Station | Tags: Open
❝ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦❞

This was the trip of a lifetime. Maybe not to most, but considering it was free of anything out of his pocket, this was probably the one and only time he'd ever visit Europe. He couldn't imagine doing something like this on a college budget. The backpack to his left was chock full of books, notes, and pamphlets regarding all kinds of folklore-heavy places he'd visited up to this point. The Tatzelwurm was next on his list; Guppy'd heard through a few different sources that a little city near the coast caught one tangled in their fishing nets several years ago, and the fisherman had it stuffed. A brilliant first-hand source. He could hardly contain his excitement, apparent from the chicken scratch his notes had devolved into during the journey there, but his hopes were dashed when the train came screeching to a halt. "We're not there yet," Guppy knew there were other stops between his boarding and his destination, but there's no way they'd reached the first one already. "What's going on?" He poked his head out from the seat, immediately regretting the decision.

"The driver's dead?!" He made a noise like a muted wail. "Did he like... have a heart attack?" He fumbled for his backpack, tugging it onto his shoulders as he made a break for the door. "Don't get your panties in a wad, no one's died." One of the other passengers stated, putting Guppy's nerves to rest. "Yeah, no one's died." It wasn't very convincing, but it was enough. "M-Maybe we're just broken down?" He said with a forced smile. They wouldn't be stuck more than a few hours, he could grab lunch, chat up the locals a bit. Maybe even get a souvenir before he made it the rest of the way. A town called Lethe; made for a nice bumper sticker.

──────── 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦
[✦] | Horseman of the Apocalypse | Tourist | ➡ Train | Tags: Matty
❝ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ❞

Of all the plans he'd had for the weekend, a cross-continent trip through Europe hadn't been on the agenda. It hadn't even been considered, in fact. Yet here he was, sat on a train for some destination yet unknown, surrounded by seats unoccupied to passersby, but skipped nonetheless. Nicholas supposed their instincts are what prevented them from sharing a booth with a ghost, but it was all the same to him. He'd admit, the inquiry came as a surprise. It wasn't necessarily his job to keep tabs on reapers assigned to other steads, but he respected the one who'd asked well enough. "Lethe." Nicholas tasted the word on his tongue. "I feel like someone's being a little heavy-handed with the symbolism here, but I'll check it out this weekend." It put a wrinkle in his off time, if nothing else. He'd live.

Nicholas passed the train ride scrolling through his feed, idly conversing with an elderly woman seated next to him. She sounded like a lovely young woman in life, and it was nice to hear she'd lived such a fulfilling life. He almost felt bad for disturbing her peaceful rest, but she didn't seem to mind. In the end, it didn't matter, as the jarring halt of the train caused her to vanish, alongside all the other invisible spirits, like dewdrops in the morning sun. "Bloody hell, what is it now?" Nicholas glanced out the window, noting the still landscape. It didn't look like they'd be moving any time soon. It was right around that time when the panic started, shouting erupting from all corners of the train car. He couldn't determine any specific statements from the cacophony, but the general consensus sounded like "the driver's dead" and "we're stranded!" or variations of the two. "Jesus Christ," Nicholas stood, brushing his shirt smooth. "Don't get your panties in a wad, no one's died." a pause of confirmation. "Yeah, no one's died."

He retrieved his ticket stub from an inside pocket, swapping it for his phone. The town name certainly didn't match the one printed on the stub, but it had an air of familiarity to it. "Looks like my stop, actually." He murmured, returning the slip to his pocket. He addressed the younger man to his left, who looked shaken to his core. "I'm going to go check tabs on the driver, you're free to come with me. Unless you'd rather stand here and hyperventilate, because that's fine by me." Nicholas grasped the door to the next car, pulling it open to see whether the other would follow.

[Fawnie]

✵ 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
xxxxxxxx▶ age: ?? || gender: female || powers: plant control || location: street || tags: Veronica, Cordelia
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

With a yawn loud enough to surely startle any passing stranger, Olive's outstretched hands met the newest leaf to one of her many plants that surrounded her bed. "Birdie!" She squealed as she pulled her knees in and around to caress the pot of the bird of paradise plant fondly called Birdie. "You've got a new leaf! I'm so proud of you!" What a happy morning this was, indeed. "I heard from everyone outside that a train was on the way, I wonder if it'll stop here?" Olive was gifted, by the magpie, the ability to understand and control plants. With plants being living beings, after all, she hardly exercised the 'control' aspect of her gift- unless a plant in her care was being stubborn about about its own care. Plants have a streak of rebellion in them, wouldn't you know.

A kettle screeched from her kitchen as she fumbled to flip her socks from inside out. Olive's mornings weren't usually so rushed. On an ordinary morning, the girl spent the first hour chatting with everyone (by everyone, it is important to note that Olive means her plants) about their nights, what they needed that morning, if they heard any good gossip. She would prepare a fresh pot of coffee, enough for herself and enough to bring to Victoria if Olive planned on stopping by to help out that morning. However, this morning was special; a pleasant surprise.

Hair tied loosely back, socks on inside out despite her best efforts, and two coffees in hand, Olive was heading out the door of her cabin-cottage styled home. As she neared Victoria's shop, she noticed the pretty butterfly-lady was already headed to the train station. It was then that she watched as Cordelia greeted Victoria, and shortly after, Olive came up to stand beside them.
"Good morning!" She greeted, offering a wide smile. "I brought an extra cup for you, Victoria. Cora, would you like this one?" She extended the steaming, mismatched mugs to both of the women. "I've had more than enough today. My plants told me there was going to be a train coming through, so I wanted to make sure I was wide awake." She laughed, but the smile that followed after lightly twitched. Not a lot of questions were asked around Lethe, and for some reason, her brain felt stormy when she tried to question even that. She could hardly wait to see how the rest of the day was going to unfold.

[stranger danger]

─── ✯✯✯ 𝙅𝙀𝘿𝙀𝘿𝙄𝘼𝙃 " 𝙅𝙀𝘿 " 𝙎𝙈𝙄𝙏𝙃 ✯✯✯ ───
WHERE? home, train station ✯WITH? no one ✯ WHAT? open ✯

the day had been long started when jedediah finally blinked awake. it was quiet - as always, as he grumbled when the sunlight hit his face through the curtains. today seemed a good day to disturb a tourist. he finally sits up, huffing, then moves to get ready.

jed's out of the house in about 5 minutes, since he never bothers to lace up his shirt all the way or properly brush his hair. he's nearly prowling down the street as he approaches the train station, ready to mimick and mock anyone he comes across. it's fun - that's all it is really. and jed has nothing better to do, as usual. he supposes one of these days he should get a job, but, where's the fun in that? not everyone lives to contribute. besides, him being there was a contribution in it's own.

finally he arrives, leaning on a wall right were the starry-eyed tourists would be disembarking. it was so entertaining to see their faces twist in confusion and slight terror when he copied their voice right back to them. yawning, jed leans his head back against the wall and lays in wait for his prey.