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chapel;

@chapelrhodes / chapelrhodes.tumblr.com

dependent rp for thecovehqs
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「 dove cameron / 28 / she/her / ciswoman 」did you see the sold sign in the front yard of ( 401 Coral Loop )? rumor in the cove is that ( chapel rhodes ) just moved in! from what i’ve heard they’re a/an ( mortician ) that’s moving to the cove because ( she wants to start her own funeral home ). when i think of the ( arcane ) i think of ( empty perfume bottles, the intimacy of being outside alone at dawn, dead roses, bare feet in the woods). * / penned by arson / 28 / est / she/her

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(TW: child abandonment, trauma, death mention)

Chapel Rhodes doesn’t know what her biological name is, who her parents are, or how she got abandoned in the woods at 6 years old. In fact, she doesn’t remember much of anything before then. Her memory of those years alone are foggy, but she knows she survived them. That’s all that matters, right?

On April 21, 2006 a 12 year old girl was found at the edge of the woods in Bainbridge Island, WA. She was starving, dehydrated, and desperate for help. The young couple that found her dropped her off at a nunnery, as they had no idea and no money to get her the help she needed. She didn’t speak, she was terrified, and she needed years of therapy.

Chapel was given her name because it was the first word she spoke out loud, and she took the last name of the nun she had taken a liking too the most. Completely made up identity but it was the one thing that was entirely hers. Once she had a name, she felt human again.

Chapel got over a decade of various types of therapy. Speech, physical, psychological, all of it. She deserved the best chance at a normal life. However, despite the years of therapy and the work she’s put in, Chapel is far from normal. She isolates herself, and can almost always be found in the woods. She is fascinated by death and the process the body goes through during it. She collects specimens and bones and does taxidermy as a hobby. She likes being alone, but she doesn’t like the loneliness that comes with it. She’s never been able to connect with people past surface level.

Other things that are weird about Chapel: her “idle animation” looks like gollum’s crouch. If she’s not actively doing something, she will drop into that natural stance and stay that way until she has something to do or someone points it out to her. She will spend *days* in the woods. No contact with anyone, no food except for whatever she forages, and sleeps in trees. She’s incredibly good at climbing. When you spend almost 6 formative years alone in the woods, you don’t ever truly come back from that.

She tries though. My god, does she try. She’s still in therapy in attempts to process the deep trauma she suffered, she has a career that she loves and is incredibly smart. Her people skills leave a lot to be desired but she’s constantly working on it. She’s just afraid of being abandoned again.

Personality:

Mysterious, isolated, will key your car with her name if you cross her.

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“Okay see that  is a great trick, unfortunately for all my clothes I wear them too often.” She nodded laughing. “I don’t know who designed it but ugh so perfect and to make inside an empty slate for us to create what we wanted, so perfect. I am Amara by the way.”
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“I can really only do it for swimsuits. Everything else I own definitely gets it’s wear,” she said, laughing softly. “Right? I’m so excited to fill my house with things I enjoy. I’m a maximalist through and through so it’ll take me a while to really properly decorate. That is a beautiful name! I’m Chapel, it’s really nice to meet you.”
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Copper was so embarrassed, and he worried that he had hurt Chapel with his proclamation.  Being “Bainbridge Girl” was probably something she had tried to leave behind, and here Copper was bringing it up in front of an entire room of strangers.  But everything had come together when Chapel had told her story, and Copper understood why he’d been compelled to tell everyone his attack had been in Seattle and why she had looked so familiar.  It had been a long time since then, but the story had always stuck in Copper’s memory.  So he’d been so struck by this realization that “Bainbridge Girl” had come out of his mouth before he had even really thought of it.  Ugh, why do you have to be so fucking stupid sometimes, Copernicus, he thought bitterly.
As he fled, trying not to run (but mostly failing), Copper heard someone calling after him, and he kept going because at first he hadn’t realized it was Chapel.  But then he did, and Copper was so shocked that he stopped and turned to face her as she chased after him.  Standing in some random hallway in the hospital (Copper had been totally unaware of where he was going), he listened to what Chapel had to say and was surprised.  “Wait, really?” Copper asked.  “You’re not…you’re not mad?”  That was a shock; he thought if the roles were reversed that he might not be too happy.  But then again, it was hard to know how he’d feel in Chapel’s situation.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized again.  “I just couldn’t believe that it was you or that I had recognized you.  It’s been like 16 years since they found you, but I guess it stuck with me.”  Sighing, Copper ran his fingers through his hair, and he shook his head, still mad at himself.  “I’m really shocked to find you here so far from Seattle,” he admitted.
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“Look, seriously. Don’t worry about it. I hated it when I was trying to figure out who I was and relearning how to speak and everything but...I’ve since come to embrace the Bainbridge Girl: the feral child image. I genuinely laugh about it now,” she assured him, shaking her head. “Hey, I’m sure if I saw a girl I had seen on the news from when I was a kid I’d have freaked out too. But yeah, I wanted to get away from Seattle. Figured it was time for a fresh start. I can see why you’re far away though. Are you...are you okay?”

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The moment that he had said the location of his attack, Copper could feel it happening.  His chest started to feel tight, his breathing increased, extremities tingling, vision blurry.  A panic attack was hitting him all at once, and he closed his eyes for a second, willing himself to calm down.  While he was managing to keep it at bay, Copper wasn’t sure how long he could do that, and he looked around frantically for a clock to see how much longer this session would last.  Where the FUCK is the clock in this room?! Copper thought, but there didn’t seem to be one; what kind of room in a public place didn’t have a clock on the wall?  And why couldn’t he be one of those people who wore a watch?  They make your wrist look weird, Copper reminded himself, not that that brought him any comfort.  Honestly Copper still couldn’t figure out why he had even revealed the location of the attack.  His whole goal in coming here was to remain anonymous, and even talking about his attack was more than he had expected to do when he moved to Lighthouse Cove.  But he had definitely not intended to tell anyone that the attack had taken place in Seattle.  All it would take was a simple Google search to find him, and what if someone in this group knew someone in Seattle and told them about him?  What if that person somehow made it easier for Dean to find him?  At least the people here didn’t know his real name, but how much would that really help?  
Focus on something else, he thought, eyes still closed and breathing deeply.  Opening them, he looked at the blonde who had caught his eye earlier, listening to her story, and then everything made sense; he knew now why he had felt compelled to mention Seattle when he’d seen her.  “Bainbridge Girl!” he exclaimed suddenly, and then he was instantly mortified, holding his hand over his mouth.  That was how the media had referred to her when she’d been found since no one knew her name, and Copper remembered that time vividly.  He’d been 11, and it had been the biggest story for a long time back home.  Bainbridge Island wasn’t that far from where Copper had lived.  “Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately.  “I…I should go.”  Standing up, he looked around at the others in the room, saying again, “Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” and then he ran out even as Dr. Reed compelled him to stay.
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The other’s proclamation of ‘Bainbridge Girl’, the name local news stations dubbed her all those years ago before she had one of her own, had her holding back laughter. Lips pressed tightly together while her shoulders shook slightly. To others, it may have looked like she was crying, but really, she trying not to look like a complete asshole. When he fled the room, she felt compelled to follow him.

“Hey!” she called out, also ignoring Dr. Reed’s pleas for the two to return. “Hey! Dude, I’m short as fuck can you slow down a little bit and at least give me a chance?!” she asked, nearly having to sprint to catch up with him. She may have long legs but they didn’t do much when she stood at 5′2. “That was...genuinely the funniest thing that could have happened tonight. Bainbridge girl? God, I haven’t heard that one in years!”

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“You’ve had that suit for years? Girl please tell me your secret!” She laughed. “Oh well that makes me feel a little better. I am liking it so far, the houses here are amazing. How about you?”
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Chapel laughed. “The trick is to very rarely let it see the light of day,” she joked. However, that may be why it’s lasted her as long as it has: she rarely wore it. Maybe a very small handful of times since she’s had it. “Oh god, tell me about it! I fell in love with my house the second I saw it! I like it here though. It’s nice to be able to start over.”
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Amara smiled. “Thank you! Got it on a tour in Italy.” She said sitting up as she threw her hair into a messy bun. “I am Amara, I’m new here,” She said extending her hand to the blonde. 
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Chapel returned her smile. “I couldn’t tell you where I got mine, honestly. I think I thrifted it a few years ago,” she admitted with a laugh. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m relatively new here as well. How are you liking it so far?”
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  • Location: Somewhere in the neighborhood
  • Open to: Anyone
  • @covestarters
“Nah, man… I told you… I’m done…” Dominic spoke as he walked along the sidewalk, enjoying the fresh spring air that warmed the streets of Lighthouse Cove to a comfortable degree, one hand on his phone and the other holding onto a leash. With his Golden Retriever at home, recovering from a neuter, Dominic was out with his Rottweiler that was heavily pregnant - it obvious to anyone that would chance a glance at her - when his agent called him to try to talk him into joining the 2022 NBA season. 
As he argued with his agent, though, Honey couldn’t help but wag her tail as she saw someone on the streets, the retractable leash pulling as she slowly approached them with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. It wasn’t until the retractable leash clicked and tugged at the plastic holder in his hands that he realized Honey had wandered off and had approached someone. “Ah shit, I gotta go man.”
Hanging up the phone, he quickly approached Honey and the new friend she had made, an apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry ‘bout Honey. She’s a gentle giant, I swear. Hope she didn’t scare you.” He knew that some bad people had given Rottweilers a bad name, and he knew that some people may have been intimidated when a dog - especially a big dog - approached them. “She just likes to make friends with everyone, I swear. But considering we’re both new here, maybe it ain’t such a bad thing.” A chuckle left his lips then as he moved to offer his hand. “Name’s Dominic, though. And you already met Honey here.”
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Chapel was enjoying a solo picnic in the park when a very large, very pregnant dog approached her and was soon followed by who Chapel assumed to her the dog’s father. “Oh, no worries at all. I hope it’s okay that I gave her a cracker. It was a plain one, nothing on it,” she said, standing up and brushing herself off. “Well, I feel honored that she chose me as a friend, she’s gorgeous. I’m Chapel. It’s nice to meet you.”
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Location: The Cove Club
When: Mid-Afternoon
Closed Starter for @chapelrhodes
Amara had taken the morning off so she could check out things around town, when she came upon the Cove Club. She liked the place, it was relaxing for sure, and it had a lot to offer. Deciding to go to the pool, she set herself up and laid back on the lounge noticing someone was next to her. “Hi, I am Amara.” She said looking over to her. “I love your swim suit! Its gorgeous.”
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Chapel wasn’t really one to get out and about, but today she decided too. Someone else was handling the current affairs at the funeral home she dedicated so much of her life to and she was enjoying the rare day off. Lounging at the poolside of the Cove Club. A place she had yet to really come to until now. She had gotten up to grab a drink and when she came back, someone sitting in the chair next to hers. No problem. “Oh, hi,” she said, settling back in her seat. “Chapel, and thank you! I like yours as well.”
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Location:  Beaumont Place:  St. Mary’s General Hospital Who:  Copper and Chapel @chapelrhodes
Copper hated being here.  Despite the fact that he knew damn well that he needed therapy, Copper had always sort of resisted it.  It was difficult for him to talk about his feelings, especially the most harrowing, terrifying moment of his life, the moment where he legitimately thought he was going to die.  The last thing Copper wanted to do was relive that.  But his dads, Hypatia, and especially Dion had been after him to finally try to work on himself, and rationally Copper knew they were right, which meant he didn’t really have much of an argument.  So he finally decided to go to a group session at St. Mary’s in Beaumont, thinking he could just listen if he didn’t feel like talking.  It was for people dealing with PTSD, so Copper definitely belonged there, even if he hated that he fell into that category.  The thing that had finally convinced Copper to take the plunge had happened this morning in his kitchen, and he looked down at his hand now, at the bandaid on his finger, and even the mere memory of cutting himself with the knife by accident nearly caused him to spiral into a panic attack, and he realized that that was the first time he’d used a knife since the incident.  So yeah, this was a place Copper needed to be.
Now he was sitting in a circle in a warm, bright room at St. Mary’s, the psychiatrist in charge of the session, Dr. Reed, sitting directly across from him.  A few others had already spoken, but Copper could tell that Dr. Reed kept eyeing him, leading Copper to wonder if he was the only new person here.  He’s going to make me talk, Copper thought, slouching down, trying to make himself small (and cursing his long, gangly limbs).  And then the worst happened:  Dr. Reed asked if Copper wanted to say anything.  Here it goes, he thought, figuring he should just get this over with.
Sitting up in his chair, Copper looked around at the group, knowing that if the guy whose kids had died in a house fire or the woman who’d been held hostage by her boyfriend for a week or the man whose entire army unit had died except for him could tell their stories, then he could too.  “My name is Copper,” he told everyone, “I’m 27, and…and I was stabbed by my ex-boyfriend.”  And then Copper proceeded to tell everyone in the group about what he’d been through, though he left out some important details, not wanting people to put together where this happened and who he really was.  Or at least that was the plan, but then he saw a girl sitting in the circle, and why did she look so familiar?  Copper wasn’t sure, but something about the sight of her compelled Copper to reveal, “This…what happened to me…it happened in Seattle.”  As soon as he said where he was from, Copper looked around the circle frantically, pleading, “Please…don’t tell anyone.”  He wasn’t sure if this support group functioned at all like Alcoholics Anonymous, but he wanted to make sure that revealing this to the group didn’t in any way make it easier for him to find.
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God. Group therapy. Talking about her problems and her trauma with a group of people seemed....odd. They shouldn’t get to hear her problems. She glanced around the room, trying to mentally guess what each person was in the group. Generally, PTSD, yes. But what caused it? People were chatting around her, but no one had acknowledged her existence yet. Finally, the meeting started and someone named Copper started speaking. Oh. That wasn’t what she expected. And he was from Seattle. So close to where she was found. She looked over at him, listening to him speak. They made eye contact for a split second when he pleaded for the group not to say anything and she gave him a reassuring nod. Suddenly, the group leader was addressing her. Fuck. She sat up and cleared her throat. 

“Hi, I’m Chapel,” she started, shifting in her chair a bit. “My parents abandoned me in the woods on Bainbridge Island,” she paused, glancing over at Copper to see if he’d react. “I was 6 years old and somehow survived until I was 12. I was found by a young couple on the side of the road. My memories of those years are...foggy to say the least but they shaped me into who I am today,” she explained, sinking back into her chair.

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@chapelrhodes || Zach & Chapel || Lighthouse Bagel
It was no secret, Zach was hungover. He had been out late drinking with one of his favourite customers and he was feeling the full affect of it today. He dragged himself into the closest coffee shop to his house and ordered a blueberry muffin and an iced coffee and waited patiently. 
The barista called out his name, handing him two off each thing he ordered and Zach, being far too tired to bother questioning, and never one to turn down free stuff took both muffins and both coffees and headed out, thanking the barber. 
As he stepped outside, he realised there as no way he was going to finish both sets of items, and mostly he really didn’t need them. Spotting a friendly looking face walk by he called out to the young girl “-Hey” he waved “-The coffee shop fucked up my order and have me two of each thing- any chance you want a free muffin and iced oat milk shaken extra shot, sugar free vanilla latte with cream?” It was a picky order, he knew that, but hopefully the girl didn’t mind. 
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Chapel had been standing in the abnormally long line for her morning coffee. She really should start using her coffee maker at home.... either way, she was thrilled with the male offered her the doubles from his order.

God yes. Thank you, holy shit. I was about to be so late for work,” she admitted, stepping out of line so the person behind her could be that much closer to the start of the line. “I realize I shouldn’t accept food and drink from strangers but I really don’t care at this point.”

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reblogged
@covestarters​ 
‘‘i’m just trying to order my coffee and this guy keeps staring at me from the corner. can you help?’‘ Alison whispered to the other, not even wanting to say anything at first.
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“Want me to go beat him up? Instill the fear of me into him?” she asked, ready to fight a strange man for this complete stranger. Girls protect girls and all that and she was clearly uncomfortable. “Let’s sit together, though, okay? I got you.”
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trey & chapel

Trey had never been the brightest bulb in the box so naturally his idea to key the car of someone he lived with wasn’t the most genius revelation. He watched with a dumb grin on his face as his new friend carved obscenities into his ex’s car, “A fucker” Trey commented with a laugh before adding, “My ex” he added. Then he turned to her, “Thanks for doing this by the way” he almost couldn’t stop grinning at what she had done to the car, “You have a lot of experience with keying cars?” Trey questioned.
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“Ah. I take it the title is fitting?” she asked, tucking her key back into her pocket. She looked up at him, shrugging. “Maybe a little bit. Some people just... deserve it. Or someone asks me nicely enough,” she said, flashing him a smile. “I’m Chapel, by the way.”
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closed starter for @seastheday

She pulled her key out of the car she had just carved the word ‘fucker’ into. “Looks good to me! Whose car was this?” she asked, turning to look at the male who had asked her to key the car.

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“Chill out?” She’s the farthest thing from it; though frosty her tone is. Her brother could be dying somewhere and this woman wants to play games? “Are you insane?” Aspen scoffs and shakes her head. “Just stop wasting my time. Have you seen Harry or not?”
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“No seriously, chill out. You’re not going to get anywhere as frantic as you are. Show me a picture of him. The way you described him is what half the guys in this town look like,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But no. I’m not insane. There isn’t a word for what I am.”

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he   thought   it’d   be   funny…to   take   the   phone   of   the   person   who   was   sneakily   taking   a   photo   of   him   and   then   put   that   phone   in   his   mouth.   but   now   that   he   was   actually   doing   it,   it   only   seemed   to   encourage   their   fanatics   more.   shouldn’t   they   be   grossed   out?   that   he   was   getting   his   slober   all   over   their   iphone?   but   apparently   not.   they   looked   ecstatic.   and   even   encouraged   to   ask   if   he’d   get   a   drink   with   them,   “ah…you   see…i   would   but,   i’ve   got   a   date   tonight.   and   speaking   of…my   date   is ….  right   there.   sorry!”   teddy   rushed   over   to   your   muse   and   interlaced   his   fingers   with   theirs,   “just   go   with   it   please.   i   need   you   to   save   me   from   that   fan.”
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@covestarters

chapel was so ready to get home from work that she was almost running. then, suddenly, she was stopped abruptly by a strange man lacing his fingers with hers and saying she was his date. “fine, but you are actually buying me dinner now,” she insisted, flashing a grin at the other person he was speaking. the fan had followed him over, for reasons unknown to her. “hi, sorry to steal this handsome guy away but we’re actually running late for our reservation!”

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“Oh yeah you couldn’t speak!? Holy shit. How long did it take you to learn English? I heard English is the hardest language to learn if you don’t speak it already. So I am a ghost writer, if you ever wanted to write your memoir I would be happy to offer you my services.” he said amazed at how the other had really gone from nothing to who was standing before her now. “I think that is pretty marketable. I mean who doesn’t want to disconnect and get to it in the wild animal inside of them. I want my inner animal to be a raccoon. I like their little people hands.” Wally wrinkled his nose at the idea of never cutting his hair again. “No no I would look like a greaseball. We might have to negotiate on that one.” 
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“I could speak before, you know like a typical six-year-old, but then I didn’t speak for six years. So it was more relearning how to do it rather than completely learning. It was hard though, and English is hard to learn. I mostly learned just by listening to others. ‘Chapel’ was actually the first word I said out loud after I was found because I heard someone else say it. That’s why it’s my name. I don’t know my birth name. It was probably something lame like Abby anyway. Not that there’s anything wrong with that name. It just wouldn’t suit me.” She was rambling again. She smiled warmly, nodding. “I’ll keep that in mind. Honestly you could write a whole novel based on what I’ve told you tonight and fill in whatever you want and honestly? It’d probably be mostly true.” She looked him over, nodding. “I think a raccoon suits you. I think my inner animal would be... something that climbs trees really well. I’m at a loss there. A greaseball, maybe, but a very cute greaseball. You’re allowed to wash it you know.”

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