"I choose to believe, why can't you?" [Aliens/Conspiracy Roleplay] [One-on-One]

Since I've been exclusively watching the x-files and stranger things, I am in the mood for some ~spooky~ stuff. Basically two teenagers start to notice that the new family in town aren't acting normal, and every time someone goes to visit them, they return acting strange as well. The two roles are the practical teenager and the conspiracy theorist.
Rules

• Romance is fine! Straight, LGBTQ, i don't care.I don't write smut though, so things can be implied but nothing will be described beyond making out.
• Swearing is fine
• Please try to have decent grammar and write a decent amount (more than one sentence). Please use dialogue tags and don't just write a line of dialogue as a reply. (That gets annoying, fast)

I'll post the template if anyone's interested! x-files theme plays

Hello! May I?

Yes!! Do you want to be the skeptic or the theorist?

May I be the theorist?

Sure! Here's the template.
Template
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Appearance:
Personality:
Backstory:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Quirks:
Skills:
Fun Fact:
Anything else? (zodiac, hogwarts house, MBTI, etc):

Thanks!

Name: Frances "Frankie" Jones
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Appearance: Long, messy brown hair, green eyes, fair skin. Generally wears ripped jeans and beat up converse with worn out band tees and flannels. Sometimes wears a purple lipstick if she's bored while she's getting ready in the morning.
Personality: Quiet, confident, witty, smart, curious, rebellious, kind, loyal, prefers listening to/playing music or reading than talking to people.
Backstory: Still in development (I'm using this to sorta flesh her out)
Likes: Food, music, sleep, coffee, books, drawing, going online, hiding away in the library or under the bleachers, stars
Dislikes: Socializing, being sleep deprived (even though she is always sleep deprived), jerks, silence
Quirks: Rambles when she's excited/passionate, mimes out cord progressions against her leg when bored, never sits normally
Skills: Playing guitar, sneaking around, sleeping in weird places, debating, research
Fun Fact: Once was given detention for getting in a physical fight with a kid in class over the "Kurt Cobain Was Murdered" theory (She strongly believes Courtney Love killed him)
Anything else? (zodiac, hogwarts house, MBTI, etc): Ravenclaw, plays guitar, has a bunch of songs she's written that she too scared to show anyone, has a notebook of conspiracy theories with her almost all the time.

(I LOVE HER!)
Name: August Middleton
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight
Appearance: Nearly six and a half feet tall, with narrow frame and narrow shoulders. Very soft with bits of fat concentrated in his stomach. No muscle tone to speak of. Long legs and short torso. He has tanned brown skin with cool undertones and hazel eyes that are more brown around the edges and green in the center. He has tussled black curly hair that's equal parts floppy and floofy. Falls into his face constantly, much to his annoyance. He doesn't have much facial hair besides a scruffy 5 o'clock shadow. His nose is slightly crooked but it doesn't detract much from the fairly attractive quality of his face.
Personality: INTP-T. At first glance, August seems pretty emotionally withdrawn. However, he is genuinely that calm, and prefers to have conversations uninhibited by sensitivity or emotion. Very logical. He doesn't show his affection by traditional means. He'll often blandly/bluntly ask questions that sound a bit rude at first, but its really him worrying about his friends. If he's asking about someone, at all, he's genuinely invested in them. Very witty and clever. He's VERY excitable about things he's interested in. However, his words usually become a tumble of confusion when he tries to explain his ideas to anyone else. He has enough trouble keeping track of his thought process without trying to explain it to someone else. He's quite sarcastic and funny, although he doesn't really realize he's doing it and can be quite confused when people laugh at something he's said.
Backstory: Born to two fairly average parents who weren't really sure how to communicate with him. After he was diagnosed with Asperger's, they spent even less time with him, feeling "justified" in not understanding him. Already a quiet kid, he withdrew into himself even more as time went on. Always loved puzzles, science, reading, and inventing things. All but dropped out of high school to homeschool himself since he said the high school wasn't teaching him anything. Became socially inept but extremely clever.
Likes: Science, anything geeky/nerdy, candy, watching horror movies, black-and-white movies, and rom coms, piano, staying indoors
Dislikes: Big crowds, small talk, having to be serious for too long, emotional people
Quirks: Slouches a lot because of his height/introverted tendencies. Touches people absentmindedly. Always snacking on candy.
Skills: Being logical, learning, understanding things, planning, thinking several steps ahead
Fun Fact: Has a serious sweet tooth.
Anything else? (zodiac, hogwarts house, MBTI, etc): Ravenclaw, INTP-T, Virgo

((I LOVE HIM TOO))

(do you want me to go ahead and write a starter?)

((Yes, please!!))

Lounging on the floor in his bedroom, August pinched his book between finger and thumb before tossing it aside with a sigh. He felt listless. He had no new ideas –half of his makeshift lab equipment was thrown asunder at his feet, too many long forgotten ideas and half-baked plans. He needed inspiration, but how?

He heard a gentle knock at his bedroom door. Lifting his eyebrows, he decided not to say anything. Maybe whoever it was would think he was dead and would leave him alone. "Gus, hon, me and your dad and heading to the new family's welcome party. Are you coming?"

"Over my dead body," he called back.

"Come on, August, now!" she repeated as though she hadn't heard him loud and clear.

August reached around for his carelessly tossed aside cell phone, quickly drafting a text. TO FRANKIE: Mom is trying to make me socialize. URGENT HELP NEEDED.

Frankie looked up from her guitar and notebook, glancing at her phone and seeing the text.

TO AUGUST: I'll call you, put me on speaker

She send the text, and then called him, coughing roughly to make her voice sound horse and shoving a tissue up her nose to sound stuffy.

August battled the urge to not call her. Phone calls always gave him anxiety. Whatever, it would be on speaker, she could handle the speaking. Pressing call, he listened to it ring just as his mom shoved the door open. "Your room is disgusting! Come on, get ready!"

Frankie grinned as the call was picked up. "Hey, August?" She said, trying to sound as pathetic as she could manage. "I'm kinda sick and mom won't let me step foot out of my room, but it's not that bad and I'm really lonely, could you come over?" She finished the last sentence with a slight whimper, trying to win his mother's sympathy. She was also trying to not laugh.

"Oh, my God, my friend is sick," August said in a flat voice, sounding both unimpressed and sarcastic completely by accident.

His mom squinted at him. "She does sound pretty terrible," she admitted. "Frances, do you have a fever?"

"A bit? It's really low, but my mom get's kinda crazy, ya know how it is." She said, pretending to blow her nose. "I have a surgical mask I can wear too, though."

His mom's mouth twisted. "Well…alright. Bye August. Feel better soon, Frances." She dropped the subject as quickly as it had come up, too preoccupied with her excitement to care much about whether or not her awkward son joined her to socialize. The moment she was out of the room, August sighed, "Thanks."

"No problem." She said, back in her normal voice. "How'd I do?"

August shrugged, then realized he couldn't see her and replied, "I don't know. It would have fooled me, probably. I don't think she was paying much attention though."

She grinned. "Actually wanna come over, or do you wanna wait for her to leave and then stay home?"

"I guess I'll come over," he said after a long moment of consideration. "Are your parents going to the new family's party too?"

"Well, dad's out of town… again. And mom just doesn't have anything to do, sooooo… yeah, I think she's going." She said, putting her guitar next to her bed. "See you soon?"

He smiled lightly, standing up and searching for a clean pair of socks. "On my way."

"Thanks!" She said cheerily, hanging up.

August searched around for some clean socks before sliping into some shoes and heading out. On the street, he noticed that it was oddly quiet. Few cars passed and almost no one was walking on the sidewalk. How many people had gone to this party? Well, it was a good thing for him. It was less likely he was going to run into anyone he knew. In a few minutes he made it to Frankie's house. He texted her, I'm out here.

She looked down at the phone. Door's open, you know where my room is. She texted back, shuffling through some papers on her disaster of a desk. "Where did I put the damn thing…"

August walked inside, heading to her kitchen first and rummaging around for snacks. He found some gummy worms and a mostly-eaten container of ice cream and settled on that. Snacks in hand, he headed into her room.

She looked up when he walked in, looking through her conspiracy book. "Heya!"

"Are you reading that trash again?" August said without a greeting, cramming a handful of gummy worms into his mouth. "Also, you're out of gummy worms."

She laughed. "It isn't trash, dick bag." She said. Beside, most makes more sense than the official explanation. You really think Kurt Cobain shot himself with three times the lethal amount of heroin in his system? Or even shoot up without any water on the scene?"