For two months Cassandra Montgomery lived with the "Clearwater Killer," unaware that it was her fiance who was murdering the young women of the small town. He had lived a double life, keeping his sadistic thoughts and actions hidden under a kind smile and a seemingly loving heart.
It wasn't until the night that he tried to murder her that he told her the truth, revealing all of the horrible details that the police hadn't even released to the public. Had it not been for the cutting board in her hand, which she'd hit him in the face with, she would have ended up as another lifeless victim.
Once he was caught, and her name was on the news with him, people blamed her. After all, who could live with such an evil man and not know? But she truly hadn't known, and no amount of apologies could make up for the horrible things he had done.
Three years later, she's moved away from Clearwater to the city of Ashhaven, with a new name, a new job as a nurse, and a new life. She's done everything she can to keep the past from haunting her.
Until notes start showing up at her apartment, vaguely threatening. At first, she thinks that someone's figured out who she is. And then the first body appears, and her worst fears come to life as she realizes that her ex might be on the loose.
Enter ______, a detective running from their own broken past. One that threatens to drown them just as much as Cassandra's.
Desperate and scared, she goes to the police, unable to get much help from any of them except for _______. The two strike a deal not long after she tells her story: she'll help them catch the man in exchange for protection.
The question remains, though: is it really her ex, come back to finish what he started? Or is it a copycat who wants to see her punished for the lives she could've saved?
And what about the past that haunts _____? What does one do when it reers its ugly head?
What I'm looking for:
I'm looking for a semi-literate to literate writer to fill in the role of the detective. I've left them genderless for a reason. They are YOUR character. You are free to do with them as you please. Just please take this seriously.
18+ please. I am in my twenties and don't feel comfortable writing with a minor.
This is a mature roleplay. Mentions of violence, possible drugs, and intimacy will most likely be mentioned. If you're not ok with any mature subjects then this thread is not for you.
ES rules still apply. While romance is not the forefront of this rp, it's ok if it happens. However, any scenes that go against site rules will be timeskipped or taken offsite.
No controlling each others characters unless asking first. That includes killing.
Real pictures are preferred. Doubling may also be a possibility, so I need you to be okay with that. We can always add new characters.
Communication. I'm not the best at this. I've ended up leaving unexpectedly due to being ill or losing my account info. However, I'm trying to be better about talking to my writing partner, so I would hope to get the same thing in return. If you're not feeling it, just tell me! I promise I'm understanding.
Good grammar. I'm not great with this all the time. I constantly make mistakes, but I really don't want to try and decipher a reply.
Most importantly, have fun! This is a story I want to write together and we can have a blast doing it!
If you're interested, please PM me with the subject as "Damaged," along with the skelly below inside, that way I know you read the rules. If you don't, I will not consider you for this thread. I know that sounds harsh, but I don't want to explain things that are already in the description.
If you have any questions that can't be answered here then feel free to ask! I promise I will answer, especially if I didn't specify here.
Cassandra is very much closed off, despite being outgoing with her coworkers and patients. She doesn't trust easily, can be a bit standoffish, and snaps when she gets overwhelmed.
Cassandra grew up as the only child in a single parent household. Her father did everything he could to raise her, never veered away from a conversation about her mother, who left them when she was two, and constantly encouraged her to chase her dreams.
When she brought home Alex, her father was very supportive, claiming he liked the man. When it came out what happened, though, he was the one to suggest she move away, hating the suffering she dealt with from the other townspeople.
They still keep in close contact to this day, with a phone call almost every night.
She's using a fake name and her fiance was, well, the Clearwater Killer.
Cassandra always wears a thick choker around her neck to hide the scars from where her fiance tried to kill her.
Costello, Kay (To co-workers and friends), Birdy (Potential pet name for partners)
Classic books, animals (bees are a favorite), good wine, the smell of the beach, he swims on his off days, sketching (mostly what he sees)
Loud noises, entitled or rude people, loud noises/ too much noise at one time, distractions while working on a case
Clarence is kind and quiet, keeping mostly to himself. When it comes to his job, he is determined and can even be ruthless. He does his best to play by the rules but will bend them if necessary. He is blunt and doesn't read social cues very well but mostly means well.
He is analytical and can notice the small things which makes him good at his job as a detective.
He is extremely protective over those he cares for and is prone to doing reckless and self-destructive things in order to keep them safe. He is very selfless and pulls all-nighters when he is particularly engrossed in a case. He does not think about himself often.
Clarence Costello was born on April 2nd. His father Jason Costello was a detective, their mother, Annabelle, worked in a retail store.
Jason was a strict father, he loved his kids and asked that Clarence would watch over his sister, Josie, and protect her. He would walk her home from school, take her to theater rehearsals, anywhere she needs to go.
Clarence’s father wanted him to go to the police academy and train to become a detective like his father. He didn't mind this. He looked up to his father and wanted to be just like him when he was younger. A strong man able to provide for and protect his family.
When Clarence got into high school, his father got harder on him. His father expected great grades, but that was normal since he could remember. He had a strict curfew for Clarence and his sister. Home by 8:30 at night. If they couldn’t manage this, it was usually Clarence who got a stern talking to and a swat with his fathers belt.
“You’re the oldest, it's your job to set an example and keep your sister safe.” His mother would gently remind him whenever he asked why father was harder on him. One day, when his sister was a senior in high school, she wanted to sneak out and meet her boyfriend for a date. She asked Clarence to cover for her and he agreed.
Whenever their father would go to check on Josie, Clarence would tell him she was studying and didn’t want to be bothered, in the shower, or sleeping.
Josie never came home that night… She wasn’t at school that morning or theater rehearsals. She never did make it home and they could never find her.
Clarence blames himself for letting her go out in the first place. He got the feeling their father blamed him too for covering for her.
He pushed himself harder in school and in the academy so he could become a detective as fast as possible. He worked under his father until his father had to retire due to a knee injury he received on a foot chase.
Clarence works to be half the man his father was and to be sure no one has to lose a child the way he lost his sister. He works hard to find criminals, and bring them to justice.
All the “what ifs?” he has gathered through the years. “What if” he stopped his sister from leaving that night? “What if” he went after the thief instead of his father? “What if” he got to a crime scene sooner?
[center [b [i "Hey, Barlow, I need you to run these tests to the lab for me. Can you do that?"]]]
[center Cassasndra looked up from her computer screen, her fingers freezing over the keys as she looked at the doctor. [b "Yes, ma'am,"] she said, reaching out to grab the manilla folder. [b "Blood?"]]
[center [b [i "Yes. Page me as soon as they get the results back."]] With a nod, Dr. Wilson was gone, heading down the hall for another patient. Cassandra didn't waste time standing, putting her own work on pause for the time being, before she moved out from behind the desk, making her way for the elevator.]
[center She almost hadn't reacted when her name had been called. She was still getting used to the name "Natalie Barlow." She liked the name, she really did, but it felt weird using a different name. Like she was wearing someone else's skin. Leaning against the elevator wall, she sighed. [i Because that practically [i is] what you're doing.] Had it not been for her father helping her out, she would've been stuck with the name Cassandra and all of the awful things that came with it.]
[center It was a good thing that her picture had never been shared with the media. Not much, anyway, otherwise, she would've never gotten this job.]
[center It didn't take her long to take care of the task at hand, delivering the folder and making her way back up to the surgical floor. Checking the watch on her left wrist, she let out a sigh. One more hour and she would be home, safe in the comfort of her own bed.]
[center [pic https://imgur.com/6Opfdjb.jpg]]
[center An hour after she'd gotten off and she was sitting at the police station, bouncing a leg up and down as she sat in a waiting chair. She watched all of the uniformed officers move past her, some seeming in a hurry, and some just leisurely making their way by. She was beginning to grow impatient. Whoever it was she was supposed to speak to was taking their dear sweet time.]
[center Damn it, she needed a cigarette. Her nerves were shot to hell and back now and her stomach was turning. Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes, thinking back to the moment she had turned on the tv.]
[center When winding down, Cassandra liked to watch the news. Not only did she like to keep up with current events, but she wanted to keep an eye out to make sure that Christopher hadn't somehow gotten out of prison. She'd thought it not likely, that he would stay behind bars for the rest of his life.]
[center Then the news anchor started talking about a body being found. Whatever Cas had been doing at that moment was forgotten as she moved closer to the television, feeling her blood run cold. She'd thought the notes had been a sick joke. That maybe someone she knew had found out where she'd moved to and had decided to taunt her. The townspeople of Clearwater had done that enough before she'd left. It wouldn't have surprised her in the least if someone had decided to continue the little game.]
[center At first, she tried to tell herself that he hadn't escaped. That it didn't matter that the victim had matched his preference. He was locked away and she was safe.]
[center Her anxiety, however, wouldn't let her push it out of her mind. It was too much of a coincidence.]
[center Now here she sat, jumping at every unexpected sound, each ring of the telephone, afraid that she would see that same tanned face. See those bright blue eyes that had held so much anger and hate in them. What if he was back? She'd protected herself before, but could she do it again? Would she have to move again?]
[center She really didn't want to. She actually liked it here in Ashhaven. It wouldn't be fair if she had to uproot everything again because of him.]
[center [b [i "Miss Barlow? Detective Costello will see you now."]]]
[center [i Finally,] she thought to herself. Grabbing the folder containing the notes, she stood, stretching her arms over her head, before she followed the older woman down a hall.]
The detective was going over files for potential suspects. He stood over his desk and paced around his office trying to find any connection that could be there. So far no leads as to who the killer was but he didn’t really expect any so soon. He squared away papers he didn’t need anymore when he heard a knock on his office door. “Come in.” He called to whoever was out there. An older woman poked her head in. “Detective, Miss Barlow is here to see you.” “Bring her in.” He replied. He knew someone was coming by the station to see him. It was like lay about the current case. He settled back in his chair, ran a hand through his messy black hair and waited for the woman to come back with Miss Barlow. He had not heard of this girl before. He can’t recall seeing her around town either. He certainly was curious to see what she wanted to talk about. ‘Perhaps she can give me a lead.’ He mused to himself. That could be wishful thinking but there was always potential. These things are never predictable. Years of experience with his father had taught him this. His father was the head detective in this department before his injury forced him into retirement. It was up to Clarence to fill his place. It was large shoes to fill but he could do it. He had to.
[center Cassandra seemed a little hesitant as she stepped into the office, looking the man up and down for a quick once over. For some reason, he intimidated her, and it made her wonder if she should just turn around and leave. The other officers hadn't really listened to her. Why would this man?]
[center Shaking her head, she moved over to an empty chair in front of the desk, holding a hand out to him as she sat down. [b "Cassandra Montgomery,"] she said softly. No point in lying to this man if she was gonna tell him how she knew what she knew. [b "A pleasure to meet you. Sorry it has to be under these circumstances though."]]
[center Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. She needed that cigarette, and soon...]
[center [b "I believe I have some information that help with the woman that was found murdered."] She took a deep, shaky breath, her mind already swimming as memories swirled around. Images that made her want to run away and hide. She tugged the collar of her shirt higher up on her neck. [b "I'm positive I know who your killer is."] A bold statement, but she couldn't shake this feeling of dread.]
Clarence’s eyebrows raised at this. He had been looking tirelessly and no leads. Now, this mystery woman comes in with the killer’s identity? This he had to look into. It was his first lead in the case, after all. “You do? Who?” He asked deciding he would bite. Why not ask? Maybe she had proof to show him to back this statement up as well. He hoped she did. Who just waltzes into a police station saying she knows who murdered a recently found victim. Someone who was likely involved with the crime… This meant a few things. Either she saw the crime take place, she knows the killer on a personal level, she’s an accomplice or she is the killer herself. He doubted the later. What kind of killer does that? However, he was determined to find the truth without scaring her off.
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