Mandatory ( Take With A Grain Of Salt, She's Prone To Dramatics. It Was An
mandatory ( take with a grain of salt, she's prone to dramatics. it was an invite from an irritatingly perky girl she's already forgotten the name of ) trips to the rabbithole may be part of pandora's personal hell. she's only ever here for slam poetry nights, which are considerably more quiet than … whatever is going on. now she's stuck with two losers and a shitty vodka cran. she's got a stupid note on her head, again presented to her by that annoyingly kind girl ( marjorie? miley? maggie? ), and her eyes fly to the similar one on patti's. a little tug at the corner of her lips as she inspects them, “ … no. but it's up for debate, often. ” a pause before she points to her own, “ do i look like a tory? ”
After a day submerged in the bloody hue of the dark room developing films, Patti had decided to switch things up for the evening; the neon red of The Rabbithole, instead, little pinprick strobes that scuttled the tops of her knuckles like ladybugs. For reasons unknown, they were also wearing red contacts as if mid demonic possession. They'd slot into a booth with Pandora and two random transfers that they'd never met. Upon each of their foreheads was a hastily licked rolling paper, all bearing a different name. When the strangers they'd collected to play with for the evening had gotten up to buy Patti and Pandora another round, Patti leaned across the table and perched their chin on their fist, squinted in concentration. She'd written 'Jason Statham' on Bambi's paper. Her own was still a mystery. "Do I have a limp wrist?" @mindfulls
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ALEXA BARAJAS as MARI IBARRA Yellowjackets 3.04: 12 Angry Girls and 1 Drunk Travis
✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.
₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.
[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?
alondra is many things – a painter, a ballerina, an ethereal being that shines brighter than the largest stars, destined for greatness – she could go on. but while all those may be true, what she is above all is a performer. and as a performer, it was her duty to commit to the goddamn bit, even if she thought it was kind of tacky to steal drinks off of tables. quickly she nods, smoothing her previously surprised features, “ yeah, it's our anniversary, we were at dinner earlier! “ eyes turn to the figure in front of them, ” he's telling the truth. you must have had the wrong guy. " distantly alondra wonders if lying so easily could be considered reprehensible, but she doesn't pay too much mind to it – she's super good at improv!
for: open to everyone! @langstonstarters where: the lamb and flag
"No, sir - you got the wrong guy!" The manager absolutely had the right guy. Usually, Soren was stealthy when it came to plucking up drinks left behind on tables. Left behind - halfway through being finished, but the owner had moseyed their way over the bathrooms, it was all the same, as long as you didn't get caught. Which wasn't in the plan, for obvious reasons - Soren always hated the part where he had to talk others down with the world's stupidest excuse. "Tell them, babe. We only just got here." Dragging someone into his mess wasn't ideal - there weren't many people as good at thinking on their toes as he was. But more people involved made his pleas all the more valid. Mouthing a rushed 'Sorry' to the closest person to him, Soren held his breath while waiting to see if they would corroborate with his story.
📲 TO: bestiana 👩❤️👨
alondra: what group are you in
alondra: nobody in mine is talking to me and i feel as if im wilting
alondra: we must make haste
briar's hands come up to his chest in defense, a slight scoff slipping past his lips, " the fuck? you don't see me for eighty years and this is how you treat me?" twelve hours, give or take, from the flight to the castle and then to here. then again, briar did see arin this morning for breakfast, but they wouldn't count that — it was a "hi"-"bye", of course he wouldn't count that. not when he spends practically all their time around the other anyway. a pause, leaning back to raise his brow, " you're bored as shit, too, huh?" so observant.
LOCATION : outside the amphitheatre ( group three OR other wanderers maybe perhaps - ) ( @langstonstarters )
initially arin had found … whatever it is that man in there is talking about, halfway interesting. if for no other reason than the pure entertainment value of the theatrics and the british looking absolutely miserable about it. even so, there's only so long he can sit still for. the people seated nearby were starting to look annoyed by his incessant leg bouncing, and as much as he usually loves a good courtyard fight, he doesn't really want to be dodging punches on day one. so excusing himself, allegedly to find a bathroom, it is. he's pacing back and forth near the door, earbuds in, and running a tech deck along the wall and making godawful racket about it. with no idea he's no longer alone under he happens to catch sight of them mid-turn. makes him jump — as if encountering other people is abnormal in public ?? — miniature skateboard clattering to the ground in the process. “jesus fuckin'- would it kill you to make a little noise next time?” maybe they did, arin. you can't hear anything but fall out boy on full volume.
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