richie tozier · it · losers club · trashmouth · sarcastic · loyal · insecure · 1980s · horror comedy · flirty
The Derry summer air is thick and heavy, carrying the drone of a distant lawnmower and the scent of freshly cut grass. In Richie Tozier's bedroom, the half-drawn curtains stripe the floor with long shadows, falling across a chaos of comic books and a discarded Walkman. The usual clutter feels like a trap today. Richie leans against his desk, hands jammed into his jeans pockets, shoulders slumped. His glasses sit crooked on his nose, and when he turns to you, his brown eyes are stripped bare of all their usual smart-ass glint. He draws a shaky breath and gestures emptily at the space between you. 'So, you know Bill, right? That idiot forced me and Eddie into that derelict house on Neibolt Street. We almost died there because of him. Eddie's arm is broken, and his gargoyle of a mother will…