#hidehillevent005

[adrianamartinez-archive]

open : @hidehillstart memorial event : club envy

Stuck on the reflection of herself in the large mirror on the wall near the back of the club, Adriana couldn't bring herself to take her eyes off the ring on her finger as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Wearing it was a mistake. Her own thoughts too loud inside her head that she didn't notice someone talking to her until they appeared behind her in the mirror. "Sorry, what?" She finally brought her eyes to them but didn't turn around. "I didn't catch what you said."

[zehraxaksoy]

Location: Envy (memorial)

Open

"You want a bottle of champagne? It's on me.. don't say no to be nice! This is a celebration of life or something like that.. it's my treat!" Milena raised her eyebrow with a smile on her face as she eagerly waiting on their answer.

[emmelinehq]

location: envy / memorial

stumbling out of the toilets intoxicated, she couldn't help but continue to think of miyeon. emmeline had loved her and in the same way as max had, she knew how to comfort her in crisis - then she was just gone. what she wouldn't have given just to have her back and just be friends with her. "have you seen, um-" her brow furrowed as she struggled to actually come up with a name that would be bothered about her. then self-loathing would take a hold of her as she thought about her last conversation with marcus. noticing her breathing felt shallow, she rested her hands on the bar top.

@hidehillstart

[josiahsterling]

when my time comes / forget the wrong that i've done / help me leave behind some reasons to be missed

TW: DEATH, BLOOD, KNIFE, INJURY, MENTIONS OF DRUG ADDICTION, PAST OVERDOSE

Josiah had gone back inside, feeling a little more level headed. In all, he'd say tonight was a success. The anxiety felt more like it came from the throng of people, not that small part of him that he knew would never quite rewire the same way again. That was something they'd talked about a lot back in rehab. This wasn't a choice he made, it was how his brain worked now. Recovery meant working every day to be the person he wanted to be. The son whose parents didn't worry about leaving alone, the brother that could be there, the uncle that could love that little girl like she was his own. Maybe...maybe the partner someone would want. Someday. That thought was more complicated. Him and Jamie were complicated. Always had been. Jamie was all in, from day one. Threw himself wholeheartedly at a boy who wasn't in the shape to treat anyone gently. And he'd come back to a man still trying to atone. He knew what Jamie wanted. He just...wasn't sure it was what the two of them needed.

That's the thought he's mulling over, absently stirring a Diet Coke, when the lights cut out. The reaction is instant. Total panic. He has to admit, he's spooked too. It's essentially pitch black in here, and with everyone running around, he can't just stay here unless he wants to get trampled. Can't stay. He needs to find...Jamie, Nell, Jesse, Danny, someone. He had to make sure they're okay. The foreboding sense he'd had all night, which up til now he'd chalked up to an unease at the way Jamie was acting, had reared up, and the longer he couldn't find anyone, the worse it got. "Jamie? Jamie!" He's trying to push past people, trying to see if he can make out the taller man in the crowd. "Jesse? Danny? Nell?" He's looking around, trying to find someone. He doesn't know what's happening, and he can't just worry about himself. It's not how he is.

Someone grabs him, and for a second, he thinks it might be one of them, and he doesn't even really care which one it is. Before he can fully turn to try to see them, there's a searing pain in his side. He screams, in surprise, in pain, in shock. He feels like he's moving in slow motion, but whoever's on him now decidedly isn't, and more pain shoots through him as they keep stabbing. He doesn't know how many. Could have been four, could have been forty. He doesn't know. Adrenaline's the only thing keeping him upright, and he tries to run once his head stops swimming, finding his limbs almost too heavy to move. The fabric of his shirt feels hot, sticky, and a feeling of revulsion washes over him when he tastes copper. He doesn't need the lights on to know it's blood. He can feel it seeping through his shirt, running down to his jeans, dripping onto the floor.

He's not actually aware of how far he's managed to get, the pain and the blood loss making him collapse. He just...lays there. He needs to get up. He needs to keep going. He can't lay here and die. He can't.

The house party had been his wake up call. It was some out of town thing, with people he barely knew. But their stuff was always good, so when they'd asked of course he'd said yes. He lost track of how much he was taking, downing a drink when it was handed to him and definitely not turning down the guy who'd been eye fucking him all night when he handed him a couple pills. He's not a lightweight. He'd be fine.

He woke up connected to machines, his mom and dad not even looking at him. When he tried to talk, his throat felt dry, pained. They had looked at him in something between alarm and relief, their eyes red. He didn't know what had happened. The last he remembered, a guy in bright blue eyeliner had flopped onto the couch he was on, putting his head in Josiah's lap. How--

He'd overdosed. On what they couldn't tell him until he remembered what he took or toxicology came back. His heart had stopped. He'd been dead. He felt like a cliche, coming home and realizing only now that this had gone too far, gotten too bad for him to just fix it himself. He had to...He didn't know yet, but he had to do something.

He has a similar thought now, even as his vision goes spotty. He has to do something. He's so close to one year. Three weeks. Twenty-four days, really, but close enough. Twenty-four days, and he's hit his goal. He's so close. Three hundred forty-one days down. Twenty-four to go. Twenty-four. He's so tired. He's cold. Someone's in front of him, and he flinches. Tries to tell them to leave him alone, don't hurt him. Help him. He needs help. He needs his mom.

They're trying to talk to him, trying to press against the wounds. He's vaguely aware of being lifted. His vision is swimming, fading in and out. He doesn't remember dying the first time. If this is what it is, it's...it's warm.

[briellepercz]

Tired little laughs, gold-lie promises

We'll always win at this, I don't ever think about death It's alright if you do, it's fine

trigger warning: violence, stabbing, blood, drug use & addiction

The night didn't have to end on such a sour note, a reminder that quickly solidified itself in her mind the second Brody had shown her the small little plastic bag of colorful pills. Like an electric shock, it set off a spark within her that didn't see the heaviness of the memorial setting to stone within her. Instead, something within her shifted completely, and before long she was leaving the cold chill of the air outside behind for the crowded, foggy club with a small escape of her own.

Was it the palpable taste of death that kept her from enjoying the so-called celebration of life? Or feeling some sense of grief? Did any of it even matter much beyond the reproach of whatever the fuck this town was still going through? Returning to Chicago was looking better and better by the day, but perhaps it was only a matter of waiting it out. It was over, right? A question she asked herself as she locked the door to the woman's restroom and downed the drink she'd only just bought. The cold chill of the ice unsettling against her teeth as she set the glass down and pressed the palms of her hands down against the vanity. A reflection that she didn't quite recognize looked back at her. She looked thinner, her skin stretched a little too tightly over her features, and Brielle knew that the slight darkness that lingered beneath her eyes rested upon the dangerously unhealthy lack of sleep the last several weeks had dragged her into. Quiet as she was, there was no shortage of terror that she felt watching people within the town drop, one by one. Uncertain of every shadow that moved a little too close or a little too quickly. Another reason that the pills Brody had given her would get her through the night. Just a few more hours - that's all she needed, a few more hours without curling in on herself in rampant fear.

The faucet squeaks slightly as she turns it, water splashing against the inside of the sink and up onto her dress as her hands curl up beneath the stream of water. The chill as she splashes her face is nothing compared to the one that carves it's way down her back as the room falls to absolute darkness. The sound of thumping music dies out beyond the four walls and the cacophony of voices goes with it. Water splashes to the floor and before she can reach aimlessly for the tap, someone slams against the locked door with such force it draws her heart into the bottom of her stomach. Screams ricochet throughout the club, slipping like serpents through the menial gap between the door and it's frame. The door rattles again in its frame again beneath what she can only assume is someone trying to get in. "Who's there?" She feels the splash of water as it continues to hit the ground beside her but it doesn't register as she strains to listen, as if above any semblance of the chaos beyond, someone might answer. Hands tremble and she instinctively curls them tightly into the fabric of her dress, tentatively stepping closer until she can press her ear to the door. It's nothing, and everything. Screaming and crying and a lot of movement but Brielle can't place a single thing on the outside of the small, tightly cramped room. Within seconds, the only thing she can truly hear is the hammering of her heart in her chest and the heavy sound of her breath. Fingertips find the lock and door handle - a fleeting thought to open it - to open it and run catches her brave a split second before the door shudders against her small frame and she becomes terrifyingly aware that someone else is trying to get in.

She turned, tried to focus on the details of the room and finds that no matter how long she'd lingered in the dark now, it was still near impossible to make anything out except... -- the window. - painted black and barely noticeable in the dark bar the slight glow that seems through paint molecules. It's a split-second decision and one she makes at the right moment. The door collapses in on its hinges, years of wear have left the wood already buckled and easy to break and the screaming from beyond drowns everything else out and spikes her heart rate even further as hands curl around the lock on the window. "Izzy!!" She'd never noticed them before - never noticed them before. Why the fuck wouldn't it open? Paint, sealing the window shut. The heel of her palm slams into the glass, feeling it crack. "Brody!!" Someone has to hear her - they have to.

Her knuckles turn white and she feels something slam against her and she's dragged to the floor, glass shattering over the top of them. The water beneath made it near impossible to break the fall, her hands slipping over and over again as she sought something to grip long enough to drag her back to her feet. "Help! Someone... -- Charlie!!"

Pain, splices through her shoulder as if something exploded. White hot, it reverberates through her and takes the form of a curdling scream as she lashes out. Kicking with intent in the hopes something would land as her hand reached for the knife embedded in her shoulder. Lithe digits met another and something about coming this close and knowing what was likely coming set her into hyperdrive. Struggling over the knife, Brielle draws the stranger's hand into hers, enough to leverage their pull and force the hilt of the weapon back into their skull - hidden beneath the mask, as it tears its way through flesh and muscle; drawing every ounce of breath from her lungs in another scream.

It's not enough though - not enough to keep her from moving. Crawling with specific purpose to just make it to the slight gap she could now see in the glow of flickering phone lights beneath the shattered wood of the door. A hand curls around her ankle and draws her back, the edge of the knife slicing through the skin of her calf muscle at the same moment she slams the heel of her boot into the masked face and seizes the moment to crawl through glass, blood, and water to the hallway beyond.

She's met with a sea of legs, and people running for the nearest exit. Brielle doesn't even know who - has no idea who any of these people are and she's too busy with eyes fixed on the black abyss of the bathroom, the stream of moonlight sifting through the window barely enough to make anything out beyond the race of her own heart.

Hands find her. Pull her to her feet. Steadying hands that don't seek to burn her into the ground but all she wants is out - all she wants is to be free of everyone's touch, to be alone and safe. Anywhere but here. Wherever those three little pills could have taken her.

[nellxsoto]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞.

I'll stay in the pool and drown So I don't have to watch you leave

For @josiahsterling

TRIGGER WARNING: death, injury, blood, gore, grief, alcoholism, addiction, rehab

Vik had promised her the stars. Thats all Nell could think about as she sat in the corner of the room, nursing the glass of ice water in her hands. She had been keeping her focus on the solid that dissipated into liquid as time went by. They would make their rounds, they would leave, she wound get to see the stars. The pattern allows her to drown out the voices around her, drown out the reminder of what this place used to be for her. An escape from the problems that festered beneath her skin. An escape that had soon consumed her before it was too late. Sooner or later, she found herself actually having some amount of fun. When Vik wasn't at her side she had engaged in a lovely conversation with Kit -- no wonder Ajay loved him. After the frequent visits to Gage in the hospital, the two of them needed to remember what it felt like to be alive again.

The thought felt selfish to Nell, the moment it crossed her mind. For there were so many people who should be here, with the people that loved them the most. It is this thought too that keeps the woman grounded, that is, until the world around her flickers and she is surrounded by blackness.

Run. It's the one thing she thinks to do. Thank god Vik is not far away, her hand wrapping around Vik's wrist as she makes a dash for the nearest exit. "We need to go!" She calls out to him. "We need to go now." It seems that he wordlessly agrees, eyes tracing over the faces in the club as she tries to find the ones she loves. She spots Max next to Adriana about to pass the threshold that separates the club from the safety of the outside, at least she hopes so. Eyes fall on Kit, Ajay.. the other girls from Mel's and the club. But there remains one person unaccounted for. Josiah.

"Jo?!" She calls out, her voice managing to echo in the throng of desperate faces. She needs him to be okay. Nell doesn't know what she'll do if he isn't.

Nell's childhood had been nothing like a normal childhood should be. It was filled with packing lunches, walking her siblings to the bus stop, paying the bills, rarely thinking of herself. Falling into a pattern like that is normal for a little girl -- believing in her heart of hearts that no one else would understand. Being alone would be her constant state of being. That is, until she met Josiah Sterling. He reminded her of bare feet connecting with the grass as they ran through the sunshine, faint whispers of encouragement to talk to her crush when they were nearby... it wasn't hard for her to face that Josiah Sterling taught her how to be a kid, when everyone else had expected her to grow up just a little too fast.

Coming back from rehab, the light that had once surrounded her had extinguished. She felt like a failure, having lost her grip on her control before she could stop it. Her first AA meeting had begun with her hood up, hoping to be unrecognizable even if she had never seen any of these faces before. Maybe she had on the street, sitting at a table in the diner. That is, until she locked eyes with a face she couldn't possibly forget. While initially silent, it seemed that their eyes spoke the same words that they had never thought they would say.

You too?

Vik and Nell manage to make it outside -- but still with no sign of Josiah. She had to go back in there. The woman didn't care what damage it did to her, not if it meant seeing his face again. "Vik -- I can't leave him in there..." Her voice cracks as she tries to pull away from the man she loves with no avail. It's then she realizes he doesn't know who she's referencing, who she'd be willing to put herself on the line for. "I can't leave Josiah in there!" She can't. She can't.

It is in that moment that police cars and ambulances descend on the scene, the air from Nell's lungs releasing into the broken evening without even thinking. She thought she had forgotten how to breathe. It appeared that everyone else was accounted for, some familiar faces being wheeled away on stretchers. Mateo was being checked out by a paramedic, something in Nell easing when she realizes he is still breathing. There are some other faces she acknowledges -- still no Josiah.

That is, until she sees a body bag being wheeled out of the club. This causes her blood to run cold. It can't be who she thinks it is, but the seconds that pass by -- it becomes more and more real.

"No.." She says at first, her voice cracking. She wants to look away, but she can't. When the doors of the coroner's van finally shut, that's when her screaming becomes more and more frenzied. "Josiah?!" She calls out, finally breaking free from Vik's grasp as her call becomes more and more like a whimper with every word. "Josiah?!"

She can hear Vik calling out from behind her. To come back.

The sight of Danny covered in blood causes her worst fear to come true. He's gone. He's really gone. Someone took her family away from her. How cruel could the universe really be, or the people that had decided to dawn the mask of The Shadow and play god? It's as if she looses all bodily control as she feels her knees make contact with the gravel of the road, inches away from where the sea of help begins. She doesn't acknowledge what's happening between her sobs as her vision becomes blurry. When she feels a pair of strong arms wrap around her, she can only assume it's Viktor. Regardless, her head is in her hands as her cries become harder to ignore.

I'll do it for you, Jo. I'll stay on the right path, I'll keep my shit together. Everything I do, it will be for you.

My brother.

[charliexabbott]

CHARLIE ABBOTT: Memorial Service

date: n/a

[gaelxsantiago]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

Are you going to age with grace? Are you going to age without mistakes?

TRIGGER WARNING: gore, murder, violence, blood, knives, injury.

Gael had never even wanted to attend this thing in the first place. He didn’t know who he was to police someone’s grief, tell someone how they were meant to mourn those that they had lost. The room felt like a haze, faces blurring into a fog as he sat at the bar, eyes fixated on a specific tile on the wall. He shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t what Miyeon wanted. There was a threat still out there, a threat that had managed to escape the custody of the police. Something in him knew that the threat was still alive and well and yet, he put on his suit – made sure that not a single wrinkle could be seen. With that, he knowingly took Julian’s hand and entered the club, hoping to make minimal conversation and splurge on a couple glasses of liquor. Waiting for the night to be over. 

Julian seemed to be the night’s saving grace. He had always been his saving grace. Julian appeared to be well aware that Gael would rather be at home in his arms than here, making sure that he felt comfortable. Now, as Gael watched him socialize he could only come to terms with one thing and one thing only. God, I’m so in love with him. He had not been able to open himself up to such a feeling since Miyeon, despite their amicable ending, not for a lack of trying. For so long he had wondered if he truly deserved it. He had closed the door on the man he was in the past a long time ago, but the fear of it's reemergence came to the surface with every new day that dawned – every moment where his eyes caught Julian's peaceful slumber. Ella saw something good in him, so did he. Perhaps that meant something. Perhaps there was a future for him yet.

I love you. The words threaten to breach his lips as Julian is in his range of eyesight, deep in conversation with Mateo. I'm falling at the speed of sound, and I don't ever want to stop.

The rest of the night seemed to go as he expected: average. Except for the short conversation he had with Jordan, something that stuck out in his mind. He wasn't the man who spoke with his fists anymore. Even if what he said to Heather was never okay, there was a reason why people conversed with words. Considering what Hidehill had endured over the past couple months, violence was never the answer. Walking away from the bar, he did so with a smile. Very rarely did the man feel a sense of peace, but it seemed that their shaking hands had closed one chapter in favor of opening another.

He had been looking for Julian when the power went out. The chorus of screams is all too familiar, his heart rate becoming quicker as the seconds pass by. Seconds feel like hours. It feels like he can never run fast enough, doing exactly the opposite of what those he love might tell him to do. He runs towards the fray. He's not going to make the same mistake that he did at the fair. If he can get those he loves out of here without injury – his life would be worth the sacrifice.

That's when his eyes lock with Julian's his gaze widening when he realizes the figure lurking behind him. In the darkness that his eyes have now adjusted to, the figure truly does look like a shadow. "Julian!" He calls out, his scream fighting to break through the ones around him. Gael doesn't even have to think about what he does next, the sound of his dress shoes making quick contact before he shoves Julian out of the way. Out of the shadows reach. However, it is a second later when he realizes that his reaction time was not quick enough. There is a knife in his stomach. He feels his body become more and more used to the feeling as each impact comes.

"Go!" He calls out, not aware that the best Julian can do is read his lips. "Run!"

Then come the words he's been fighting all night. I love you.

He feels like he's drowning as his body sinks to the floor, the shadow disappearing into the darkness, seemingly satisfied with the work they have done. The pain they have caused.

As his world fades to black, he fights to stay awake. Fights to see if the man he loves made it out alive. Mateo. Scarlet. Jordan. The names take residence in his mind as his hands press to the cool tile of the floor, fighting to get himself upright. His bones feel like liquid. All he can see is the blood leaving his body, eyes frantically scanning the room in a desperate haze before he finally loses his battle.

Gael sustained five separate injuries and is now currently recovering after surgery at Hidehill General. Some of the staff say he is lucky to be alive.

[dakotaxatwood]

DAKOTA ATWOOD - MEMORIAL SERVICE

[nicoxkarvelas]

NICO KARVELAS: Memorial Service

date: n/a

[dodgedhalo]

closed: @dakotaxatwood location: envy

"I know letters are a little difficult for you, so I wanted you to know that I appreciate you looking out for Remy while we were in the hospital." It seemed weird to talk about this in the middle of the memorial, but he needed some sense of normalcy to survive the night.

[adrianamartinez-archive]

adriana preview : memorial event

[zehraxaksoy]

MILENA RAMOS: Memorial Service

date: n/a

[emmelinehq]

Emmeline Astor-Roberts /Memorial Service

[sulkingtemptation]

juliana ✶      ┈      event      :      hidehill memorial service.

[misguidedsilhouettes]

aylin ✶      ┈      event      :      hidehill memorial service.