Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
it's crazy that people can consume the same media yet come away with vastly different & wrong opinions. not me though because i'm always right
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 pull mary from her thoughts . her gaze remains fixed on some distant point inside dolly's , a small detail she's pretending to care about rather than acknowledging him fully . his words don't do much to sway her , but there's something in his tone ; a quiet tension , a need to be taken seriously . that tells mary everything she needs to know . " maybe there isn't a demographic . " she says , her voice even . " maybe there' just doing it because they can . and they're smarter than the dunces in the sheriff's department . "
finally , mary looks at him . young . she can tell just by the set of his jaw and the way he carries himself . he didn't live through the first string of disappearances , through the whispers , the theories , and the absolute lack of answers . there was no demographic back then , either . no concrete lead . it was almost as if those charge were just waiting ; letting time wash over the horror until people stopped asking questions . mary had a feeling that was exactly what would happen again . " i'm not some monster , " she says after a pause , her voice carrying something tired beneath the edge . " i wouldn't capitalize on people's pain with cheap headlines . " she rolls her eyes , leaning back slightly . " it's not like i work at the register . "
1999 WAS QUITE THE YEAR, but what could bash possibly know? he was merely cooking in the womb by the time the legendary handful of disappearances and murders took place. he was no detective, but still, his link to the register made it quite impossible to try not to draw the connections. sure seemed like the sheriff's department wasn't getting any closer, but perhaps his own biases took over that opinion.
there wasn't much thought when walking passed the doors he was so used to breezing through. growing up in a shit town like red creek sure presented the opportunity for running on autopilot. coffee. sit. work. rinse. repeat. pushing the metal bar open with ease, a sigh drew out as hues landed on the local that seemingly matched his bitterness. the regret of approaching mary slowly seeped in at the accusation for his interruption in the first place.
❝ and what exactly is similar to '99 ? the demographics certainly don't line up . copy cat theory might as well be laced with a tin-foil hat , ❞ sebastian stated plainly, tone and expression stoic. as much as he enjoyed getting a read on others, he didn't desire for the favor to be returned. ❝ hope you're not planning to flip from romance to mystery . if you do , don't seek inspiration from this shit hole . it would inevitably lead to a dead end . ❞
❛ ⅋ 𝐢. 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 ━ setting description : dolly's diner !
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 . mary had spent most of her life waiting for the town to settle , for things to even out , and for the past to stay buried . but after kirby , it was clear — this town never let anything stay dead . mary sat at the counter of dolly's , stirring the spoon in her coffee long after the sugar had dissolved . the place was busy for a weekday , whispers of kirby's demise bleeding into every conversation around her . it was all the same — speculation , paranoia , bad theories . mary had heard it all before .
the door opened and a gust of winter air rushed in . mary barely glanced up , her fingers tightening around her mug as she listened to the footsteps approaching . " let me guess , " she started dryly , setting the spoon down with a soft clink . " you're about to tell me how it's just like '99 all over again . " finally , she lifted her gaze , arching her brow at the person beside her . " go on then , might as well get it over with . "
❛ ⅋ 𝐢. 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲 ( @enternights ) ━ setting description : 02 / 15 @ 7:35 pm !
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗮𝘅 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆'𝘀 nails from the vigil , and she wasn't sure why that unsettled her so much . maybe it was because it reminded her how easy it was to leave a mark — how easy it was for something to melt away completely . mary sighed , crossing her arms as she eyed the fundraiser crowd . " you ever get the feeling that no one here actually gives a damn ? " she muttered , half to herself , half to whoever was standing close enough to hear . " like . . . they show up , pretend to care , and then tomorrow , it's back to normal ? "
𝒲𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌 ⠀ ࣪ 🦢 ﹚
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