Milk For The Lagoon Main Character Casting
Project Overview
Milk for the Lagoon is a narrative-driven, third-person Southern Gothic horror game rooted in Black Southern folklore, generational trauma, and eerie psychological dread.
Set in 1998 in the fictional town of Marais Noirs, Louisiana, the story follows Naima Baptiste as she returns home to inform her grandmother of her mother’s passing — only to uncover a decades-old curse tied to milk, mirrors, and the lagoon behind the house.
This project is being developed under the HorrorHer label and is deeply inspired by Black Southern storytelling traditions. Authenticity in voice and cultural nuance is extremely important to this production. We are specifically seeking African American voice actors for principal and supporting roles.
These characters are Black and rooted in Southern Louisiana culture. Authentic dialect, tone, and lived-in cadence are essential for grounding the horror in realism.
We strongly encourage:
Actors with Southern (especially Louisiana/Deep South) dialect experience
Actors comfortable with emotionally intense scenes
Performers who can convey warmth shifting into menace
Talent who can deliver subtle, layered performances (whisper work is important)
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Naima Baptise is a sharp, emotionally guarded young woman returning to the forgotten Southern town of Marais Noirs after years away. Raised by her enigmatic grandmother, she now finds herself unraveling a web of secrets, generational trauma, and a lurking supernatural presence tied to the mysterious lagoon at the town’s edge.
- english
- female adult
- female young adult
- female teen
- american (southern)
- animation/character
(wry, defensive) “I didn’t come back for her gumbo. I came back to bury a memory that keeps scratching at the door.”
soft, disbelieving) “You’re telling me... you knew? All this time?”
(terrified, whispering, on the verge of panic) “Something’s in the water. I heard it call my name—like it knew me.”
Mère Celestine is Naima’s grandmother and a long-respected figure in the small Southern town of Marais Noirs. She’s the kind of woman whose silence says more than her words—commanding without raising her voice, loving but always holding something back.
She speaks with purpose. Everything she says feels like a riddle, a warning, or a prayer. While she is nurturing and spiritual, there is a strangeness to her—an otherworldly stillness, like she knows something you don’t. Her voice should be calm, steady, and timeless, with a rhythm that suggests both wisdom and ritual.
- female adult
- american (southern)
- animation/character
- female senior
(warm, with quiet intensity) “There’s power in the things we forget, baby. And more in the things we choose not to remember.”
(measured, protective) “The house is old, yes—but it listens. Be mindful what you say in it.”
(gently commanding) “Go on and rest now. I’ll be here when the morning comes.”
The Telokun is not human. She is old—older than the town, older than the trees that lean toward the water. She speaks in riddles, fragments, and voices that sound half-remembered. When she speaks, it should feel like a dream curdling into a nightmare. Her presence is seductive and terrifying, like a lullaby soaked in dread.
She is the voice that haunts Naima in moments of silence. She can whisper like wind through reeds, or sing in a tone that feels like it’s underneath the water. Her voice should blur the line between beauty and fear.
- english
- female adult
- female senior
- female young adult
- american (southern)
- animation/character
(whisper-soft, smiling through the words) “You came back. I never stopped waiting.”
(sing-song, like an old lullaby) “They pour and pour until they drown… and call it devotion.”
(gentle, motherly, terrifying) “Come now, little mouth. Drink deep.”
Zora is a respected church matron in Marais Noirs who knows how to wield both the Good Book and town gossip like a weapon. She’s the kind of woman who smiles while twisting the knife—if she says “bless your heart,” she means anything but. She’s uncomfortable around Naima’s return, but masks it in forced sweetness and veiled warnings.
- english
- female senior
- female adult
- american (southern)
- animation/character
(sweetly patronizing) “Well I’ll be. You done come back with those city shoes on, thinking the mud won’t stick.”
(smiling, but with cold undertone) “Some things are better left buried, baby. You don’t want to go stirring the water.”
(snapping back, sharply) “You watch that tone now. Ain’t no girl too grown for consequences.”
The cashier at the general store greets Naima like a stranger—even though she grew up here. They either genuinely don’t remember her… or pretend not to. Either way, something’s wrong in the way they speak—like they’re trying to keep things normal, even when they’re not.
- english
- female senior
- female adult
- american (southern)
- animation/character
(casual, distant) “Need a bag for that, miss? Y’ain’t from around here, huh?”
(a beat too long of silence, then forced cheer) “Marais Noirs don’t get many new faces. Welcome.”
(eerily polite) “Enjoy your milk. On the house.”
The Old Man on the Bench sits in the same spot every day. He speaks in riddles and warnings, like someone with one foot in the past and the other somewhere much darker. He’s either half-senile or fully aware of what’s coming. His words sound like memories trying not to slip away.
- male adult
- male senior
- american (southern)
- animation/character
(slow, reflective) “Water ain’t never still here. It listens when you sleep.”
(barely audible, almost to himself) “She been hungry since the blood moon. Never stopped drinkin’.”
(smiles faintly, eyes far away) “You look just like her. But you ain't her, are you?”
The Whispering Girl hums the Lagoon Song when no one is watching. Her presence feels like a memory that shouldn’t be there. She’s not threatening—until she speaks. She only has one or two lines, but they should chill the player to the bone.
- female child
- female teen
- female young adult
- american (southern)
- animation/character
(singing gently, almost under breath) “She come when the milk go sour… she come when the moon turn red…”
(deadpan, but childlike) “I seen you float.”
(soft, looking right at Naima) “You left. But she didn’t.”
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