Author Topic: angels on my side | journal/dump  (Read 482 times)

Offline SANTOS

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #15 on: April 08, 2019, 04:20:14 PM »
testing

lorem ipsum shit
♰  leave it to the land, this is what it knows  ♰

Offline SANTOS

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #16 on: April 08, 2019, 05:00:33 PM »
There was a terrifying, beautiful power in the sea. It was a harmony of death and destruction // life and creation. Giver and taker of life, it bent to no man's will. Provider of joy, provider of terror. In this, Santos had found a home as a youth. The man stood alone on the coast, eyes closed as he tilted his crown to bask in the sun's golden spillage. The wind brushed his dark curls from his brows, as if greeting the familiar face. He felt like a young boy again. His shoulders sunk in ease, lashes parting to gaze upon the sunlight-brushed ocean. He had missed this- his solace.

The striking blue waves made him forget his red-stained memories. The warmth of the sun made him forget cold, stiff skin. The crashing of tides drowned out the sobbing, the gunshots, the shouting. In this scene, Santos had returned to the sanctity of his home. In this fantasy, the protagonist got his happy ending. But this was no cinematic, feel-good film. This was the story of a marked boy, doomed from creation, death and undoing imprinted upon him instead.

Golden irises flickered to the rocky side, sensing an all too familiar presence. His dearly loved ghost. The blonde phantom stood rigid // stood silent. Red stained eyes peered at Santos blankly, providing him only that presence. The two mirrored one another; posture stilled, gazes empty. No words were exchanged between the two, neither mental nor verbal. There was nothing to be said.

The sound of movement swayed the man's attention, head snapping towards the source. A figure approached in the distance, climbing the incline that had previously kept them both from sight of one another. Santos stood silent a moment, grip tightening upon the wire-clad bat hanging from his backpack. He was not naive to the reputation of the Badlands. Perhaps it was not wise of Santos to delve into a life of aggression and violence again, and perhaps that was why his beloved phantom had grown so cold towards him. But Santos could not shed the ways of himself so easily.

”I’m looking to join.” He spoke, looking back to the rocks // his dearly loved ghost had vanished.
« Last Edit: April 08, 2019, 06:31:27 PM by SANTOS »
♰  leave it to the land, this is what it knows  ♰

Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #17 on: April 09, 2019, 09:46:27 AM »
character note:

santos isn’t inherently a bad/good alligned character. his background is very much essential to who he has become, and the environment in which he developed played a large part in his own personal development. it is not that he enjoys violence/anger, but it is that it was a outlet for him as a child. as a boy, he would lash out, and often get into quarrels with others, expressing his anger of the situation in which he was placed. there was little he could do about his situation then, so if he must endure it, he would do so with strong rebellion and clear disdain. as he grew into his teenage years and found his family in a street gang, santos discovered not only was violence/aggression an outlet for him, but he was simply good at it. wielding anger as a weapon was a second nature, and it was one he began to develop enough to turn into a skill. nowadays, he allows himself to be on the defense rather than offense, and although the dog no longer bares his teeth nor attacks on que, one should not pet him nor lure him with cause. santos is not a tamed animal, but a tired one.
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #18 on: April 09, 2019, 05:01:04 PM »
should santos b a medic? at least have medical skills?
i think there’s a bit of a need for one accustomed to the blackout setting/resources. maybe it would make sense if he kinda devoted himself to that after he ended up on his own, considering he feels as if perhaps he had known enough medically, he could’ve saved ryder, his now ghost.
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #19 on: April 09, 2019, 05:52:15 PM »
   

{ let me be who i'm meant to be }

santos castellano a man who does not know when or how to stop. confined to ferity and ruination since adolescence, he knows nothing but. tenderness was wholly found in fleeting moments, such meagerness leaving him yearning before bitterness befell him. he stopped chasing what he was taught to be foolish charity, instead conforming to the brutish experiences he hailed from. inhumanity achieved progress, and so his means were edified. a being stripped of benignity and naivety, hardened and thrown forth.

{   ✧   ✧   ✧   }

age twenty nine, though his maturity far exceeds.
zodiac he was born october 29, making him a scorpio.
birthplace {liquid space} on the coast, in a small, poor city
origin his parents were born and raised in spain, though moved to america shortly before santos was born.
height / weight 6'4 ft. / 220 lbs.
build tall and muscular
appearance warm complexion, dark wavy hair, full beard, dark eyes, long lashes, angular features, heavily scarred, very rugged. has faded, low quality stick and poke tattoos covering him face-feet, clearly done by himself or others as a teenager; face tattoos are small and consist of crosses, dots, tiny angel wings, and tally marks. his chest is filled of scars, small tally marks representing each life he took.

{   ✧   ✧   ✧   }

A Guide to Santos' Twisted Worship of Saints santos does not identify as a catholic or as a member of any specific religion, though he does believe in small ways of worshipping saints. he believes in these individuals’ powers and their spirituality, and honors them according to what they stand for. for example, santos may often pray to certain saints or speak their names to guide him.

La Santa Muerte "Saint Death," a condemned saint by the Church, she is a patron saint for all criminals. Santos was/is a criminal, and while indulging in such activities past and present, Santos believes she brings good luck and protection.

Saint Julian The patron saint of murderers. Santos believes he protects them from danger and death and provides luck in manhunts. Though limited, Santos does kill those he deems 'bad,' and thus prays to Saint Julian to guide him and provide him protection.

Saint Joaquina Vedruna de Mas Patron saint of exiles and against the death of children. Santos, being an exile of many places/groups, believes she provides guide when he is lost. Because of his devotion to her, he strongly advocates the protection and pardoning of all children.

Saint Teresa of Ávila Patron saint of sickness and of those in need of grace. He prays to her when one of his own is ill, or when he finds himself in need of grace for whatever personal reason.

St. Jude Thaddeus Patron saint of lost causes, also known in Mexico as the patron of criminals and prisoners. She represents a hope for Santos and offers him a forgiveness and he believes she is his pardoner for his sins and will guide him in the afterlife.

{   ✧   ✧   ✧   }

strength ( 9/10 ) , willpower ( 9/10 ) , dexterity ( 9/10 ) , intelligence ( 8/10 ) , wisdom ( 7/10 ) , charisma ( 4/10 ) , agility ( 6/10 ) , stamina ( 8/10 ) , endurance ( 9/10 ) , teamwork ( 2/10 ) , stealth ( 6/10 ) , reaction time ( 8/10 ) , humor ( 4/10 ) , fortitude ( 9/10 ) , faith ( 2/10 ) , melee combat ( 8/10 ) , armed combat ( 9/10 ) , leadership ( 4/10 )

cowardly
energetic
forgiving
charitable
authentic
chaste
humble
naive
cautious
restrained
trusting
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brave
lethargic
vengeful
selfish
deceitful
lustful
boastful
experienced
daring
bold
suspicious

{   ✧   ✧   ✧   }

history loss struck santos at the mere age of two, taking from him the life of his mother. without his father in the picture, and no immediate family able to take him in, santos was placed in foster care. his young age allowed him a high likelihood to be adopted by a family, but for reasons undisclosed to him, time and time again, any attempts to adopt him were unfulfilled. as he aged, this percentage diminished. time and time again, santos was sat down and told the couple he had spent so much time with could not give him a home as they had told him. due to this, the young boy began to grow frustrated and confused, and feeling powerless, santos lashed out. he began to receive punishment for bad behavior in school, for getting into quarrels with the other children, and overall performing below average in terms of education and behavior. his chances continued to shrink. as he grew older, it all worsened, both his performance in school and his proneness to fights and arguments. santos would often come home with black eyes or busted lips, carrying within him a fire. the boy would never create a lasting/true bond with any foster parents or siblings he stayed with, seeing them all as temporary stops. any attempts to build a relationship with santos would result in him pushing away and becoming even more distant. due to this lack of any form of parental relationships, santos idolized his biological mom, which in turn led to santos' fascination with her religion and her language. this is where he read about spanish roman catholic saints and began to look up to them, as well as where he began to study spanish religiously.
as santos entered his teenage years, he began to build true friendships with a group of boys in his area that he would walk home from alternative school with. like him, they were prone to the same violence and all had stories similar to his own. at this same time, santos had begun attempts to run away from his foster homes, being placed in worse and worse ones in terms of neglect and disarray. he was caught time and time again, but by the age of 15, santos was pronounced a missing child. he found refuge in the friends he had made, who he discovered to be apart of a larger street gang. he stayed with them, and despite their violent and aggressive lifestyle, santos found true loyalty and brotherhood among them. they became his family. santos began to live in a life of drugs, sex, gang warfare, and pure aggression. he became accustomed to it quickly, and soon learned he had a certain skill for violence. it was not simply that he enjoyed it, but santos was inherently good at it.
when santos was 18, the blackout hit. the gang was able to easily adapt, having already grown accustomed to a life of crime and survival. soon, though, the issue of desperation seeped into their plans. droughts of resources became a threat, and one night they planned to raid a convenience store within a rival gang's territory. despite it being thoroughly planned, the night quickly turned sour. warfare broke out, and in the end, the rival gang raided the store instead after shooting 5 members of santos' group down. of them all, santos was the lone survivor of the group that attacked. of these losses, ryder was one of them, santos' closest friend/love interest. the two were extremely close, and santos loved ryder, though he had not explored his sexuality yet, so the duo's love for one another was cloaked and unspoken. santos sat in the destroyed convenience store with ryder as he bled out, surrounded by his dead and dying friends. after this, santos became reckless and dangerously violent, so much so that one night, the remnants of the gang abandoned him, seeing him as a threat to their safety. ever since, santos has been fending for himself in the apocalypse of the world, before joining the badlands.
character traits distant, detached, introverted, often quiet, defensive, protective, territorial when close w something/someone, proactive, cautious, observant, fairly close minded, capable of apathy, easily stirred/angered, likes to think he’s driven by logic but when vulnerable very much driven by strong emotion

{   ✧   ✧   ✧   }

misc. character notes - Haunted by the spirit of his now deceased best friend/love interest, Ryder. Santos stayed with Ryder as he slowly bled out to death after a desperate planned raid by the gang that failed, resulting in the loss of all those Santos was close with. He is haunted by his spirit due to the guilt and unfullfillment he attaches to Ryder's death.
- has a pet california kingsnake, a white snake with large black spots along her head. santos found her three years ago when rummaging through an abandoned home. he wandered into what looked like a young boy's room, finding a habitat on the dresser. he expected to find a dead animal of some sort, but instead found kyros. she was thin and visibly tired, but as soon as santos approached and opened the enclosure, she perked up. after finding her some fresh food and water, kyros was quick to show affection. ever since, they've been together.
   - kyros is oftentimes actually nestled in the pocket of santos' backpack, though she often slithers out from time to time to nestle herself around his neck/shoulders.

{   ✧   ✧   ✧   }

links tba
« Last Edit: April 10, 2019, 12:00:51 PM by Cubs »
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #20 on: April 10, 2019, 03:45:34 PM »
note: add more history in the ten year gap u have girl. santos had to have experienced more than finding a snake and meeting a weird man named badger. throw in some more angst, y not
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #21 on: April 11, 2019, 09:30:40 AM »
note: write abt santos’ ability to build relationships. what kind of people does he get along w? who tend to be his friends? what draws the line at cutting off people? is he confrontational when a friend does something he does not agree w? what rubs him the wrong way? what does he look for in a partner? is he even capable of romantic feelings when he’s seeing ryder’s ghost everywhere? past relationships? should he be promiscuous or open to one night stands? is he affectionate? etc.
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline Devilad

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #22 on: April 15, 2019, 03:02:01 PM »
Just gonna drop by with a track and say that this storage have such wonderful creations so far, as always! <3
HEAVEN’S TEARS ON STAINED MARBLE,
ever drowning in starlight tragedies . . .


Also known as Caelum / James / CJ(P) - Agender ( Any pronouns ) - Eighteen - BearBones' Star Child - Gemini - INFJ - Chaotic Neutral / Chaotic Dumbass - Passionate writer, coder, and graphic editor - Avatar and coding and graphic on signature are created by me; writing on signature is inspired by Chamber’s aesthetics; please do not use them —————————————————————————

Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #23 on: April 15, 2019, 09:35:29 PM »
:')) tysm ilu wow
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #24 on: April 16, 2019, 04:56:28 PM »
loss struck santos at the mere age of two, taking from him the life of his mother. without his father in the picture, and no immediate family able to take him in, santos was placed in foster care. his young age allowed him a high likelihood to be adopted by a family, but for reasons undisclosed to him, time and time again, any attempts to adopt him were unfulfilled. as he aged, this percentage diminished. time and time again, santos was sat down and told the couple he had spent so much time with could not give him a home as they had told him. due to this, the young boy began to grow frustrated and confused, and feeling powerless, santos lashed out. he began to receive punishment for bad behavior in school, for getting into quarrels with the other children, and overall performing below average in terms of education and behavior. his chances continued to shrink. as he grew older, it all worsened, both his performance in school and his proneness to fights and arguments. santos would often come home with black eyes or busted lips, carrying within him a fire. the boy would never create a lasting/true bond with any foster parents or siblings he stayed with, seeing them all as temporary stops. any attempts to build a relationship with santos would result in him pushing away and becoming even more distant. due to this lack of any form of parental relationships, santos idolized his biological mom, which in turn led to santos' fascination with her religion and her language. this is where he read about spanish roman catholic saints and began to look up to them, as well as where he began to study spanish religiously.
as santos entered his teenage years, he began to build true friendships with a group of boys in his area that he would walk home from alternative school with. like him, they were prone to the same violence and all had stories similar to his own. at this same time, santos had begun attempts to run away from his foster homes, being placed in worse and worse ones in terms of neglect and disarray. he was caught time and time again, but by the age of 15, santos was pronounced a missing child. he found refuge in the friends he had made, who he discovered to be apart of a larger street gang. he stayed with them, and despite their violent and aggressive lifestyle, santos found true loyalty and brotherhood among them. they became his family. santos began to live in a life of drugs, sex, gang warfare, and pure aggression. he became accustomed to it quickly, and soon learned he had a certain skill for violence. it was not simply that he enjoyed it, but santos was inherently good at it.
santos grew especially close to two boys: ryder and deacon. ryder and he met in school, and he was one of the prominent reasons santos decided to join the gang. ryder was a fiery boy, with messy blonde hair and dark blue eyes like the ocean, he held santos' heard in his palm. the two were inseparable, and though their romantic relationship was very lowkey, their love for one another was anything but. deacon, on the other hand, joined the gang later on. he was a boy of about 12, with long messy hair and bright eyes. despite the boys' irritation with a kid around, deacon's stubbornness proved to even beat theirs, and his defiance was so great they couldn't held but admire. soon enough, the gang was teaching deacon all about the streets, and he came to know them just as well as the boys. he often ran errands for the boys, earning his nickname, "conejito," given by santos, which translates to "little rabbit," due to his small size and agility. deacon was a major help to them in reality, and he found a family in the gang. santos grew especially close with deacon, having dealt with younger kids his whole time spend in the system. he was more often than not, the one to grab deacon from any trouble and lecture his ear off, though not without deacon's adamant counterarguments. they were legendary at keeping an argument going, but they were extremely close. santos grew to teach deacon many life lessons and did his best to guide the boy. all three boys were tight-knit and became one another's family.
when santos was 18, the blackout hit. the gang was able to easily adapt, having already grown accustomed to a life of crime and survival. soon, though, the issue of desperation seeped into their plans. droughts of resources became a threat, and one night they planned to raid a convenience store within a rival gang's territory. despite it being thoroughly planned, the night quickly turned sour. warfare broke out, and in the end, the rival gang raided the store instead after shooting 5 members of santos' group down. of them all, santos was the lone survivor of the group that attacked. of these losses, ryder was one of them, santos' closest friend/love interest. the two were extremely close, and santos loved ryder, though he had not explored his sexuality yet, so the duo's love for one another was cloaked and unspoken. santos sat in the destroyed convenience store with ryder as he bled out, surrounded by his dead and dying friends. after this, santos became reckless and dangerously violent, so much so that one night, the remnants of the gang abandoned him, seeing him as a threat to their safety. ever since, santos has been fending for himself in the apocalypse of the world, before joining the badlands.
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline Cubs

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #25 on: April 28, 2019, 10:58:22 PM »
jackie notes
- perfectly manicured and polished nails holding a pistol
- eternally stuck in this sort of rage due to injustices done to her. seeking a vengeance she will never achieve
- feels in extremes. rage, grief, hostility, etc.
- Hates being touched unless you have a previously established relationship w/ her
- beautiful, violent, vulgar
- "i am the sea i drown in"
- "times are tough, but i am tougher. i'll be fine."
- owns a black cat named church (pet semetary)
- will probably bully u once weekly
- capable of extremely twisted and unspeakable acts
- merciless once you have become her marked man
- became the reaper she always longed to be / needed when she was younger
- guardian angel to some // demon to others
- probably smoking 24/7. joint or cigarette, doesnt matter
- extremely skilled in shooting. sharpshooter
- created, not born
- enjoys drawing/painting as well as gardening
- black wavy hair, warm skin, slender frame, dark eyes, around 5'7?

> pinterest board
down by home, i've seen this road before. i don't know if your soul can pay the toll. no crushing, no houses send flowers. syre cried a floral river into the valley where the sun set for hours. ⋆


Offline JVCKIE

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #26 on: April 28, 2019, 11:37:15 PM »
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the room is empty
and the window is open

Offline JVCKIE

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #27 on: May 02, 2019, 12:55:13 AM »
there had not been a sudden turning point in which jackie snapped. there was no major, life-changing event that broke her, nor sudden day that she felt the universe unchained her. rather, this change had come slowly, as any change in nature does. perhaps this seed had long lived inside her, buried just under her skin. as time passed, it grew, slow and gradual, building a pressure within her. it would eventually grow to fill her being, to swell and pull her skin taunt, rising and rising until it burst, pouring from her pores and cascading down her skin, forever staining the once unmarked girl.

every mark, every blow, every push had fueled this change. gone was the quiet, basket case of a girl who swallowed her pride and did as she was asked. gone was the girl who went out of her way to appease her peers, always careful to not trod on anyone’s toes, always apologetic when faced with dilemma. the warmth in her smile had been replaced with a chilled imitation. her presence was known and announced not with words, but with her aura alone. she walked like a god and accordingly bowed her head to no one. she stepped unflinchingly onto the toes of others, clad in stilettos. her words were venom and her touch poisonous. electricity flowed in her bloodstream.

those who knew this was not the girl she had once been regarded her with glassy eyes. she was known as a tragedy to them. but jackie was no tragedy. she had blossomed into the reaper she had always called on in her youth. she had become the person she had needed when she was a child. jackie did not regard herself with the idea of a lost girl tainted by some non-good, but rather as a refined being who had been granted freedom from the restraints of her bringing up. her unwavering ferocity was a sport, but she was not playing a game.
the room is empty
and the window is open

Offline JVCKIE

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Re: angels on my side | journal/dump
« Reply #28 on: May 02, 2019, 01:40:04 AM »
tw: heavy gore

the gun discharged with an ear shattering pulse, kicking back in her palms. blood splattered like rain upon her face, dusting her skin with crimson. just as her finger left the trigger, she twirled the digit back, flipping the pistol and grasping the muzzle, bringing the heavy base down in a swift movement to strike her attacker's crown with a grunt, eliciting a disturbing thud of flesh. the bullet had embedded itself into the man's hand- tearing a hole straight through what he had foolishly thought a barrier between himself and death.
no worry, jackie thought to herself, i like a fighter. she thrust her trigger finger into the man's wound as he screamed out.

the man's face was stained with tears and his own blood, his eyes bloodshot and sweat brimming his forehead. the woman reached for her carving knife from her belt, holding the weapon tightly in her hand. the man reared up from the ground- which jackie chalked up to his adrenaline finally switching from flight to fight. fucking coward. his weight shoved her back, knocking her onto her ass momentarily as he heaved himself to his feet. "crazy bitch!" he shouted, grasping his injured hand, blood pouring down his forearm. big mistake. in the moment he took to speak, jackie lurched forward, one hand grasping his calf as the other sliced the blade through his achilles tendon. a man's pride was always his downfall- always having to have the last word. idiots.

the man screamed again, and jackie smirked, pulling him down into the dirt with her. god bless she wore her cargo pants today- fighting in those high-waist skinny jeans was always a nightmare, she thought to herself as she swung herself over her victim. her arms raised high, both hands clutching her knife, and with the same determined swiftness, she delivered the blow with a squelch of flesh and blood. the blade sunk deep into the man's sternum, and she twisted the knife, eyes glued on her victim's, watching his face distort in pain. flipping the knife back through the torn flesh, she let out a grunt as she forced the knife down his abdomen towards her, jaw clenching as she utilized her muscle. his cries continued as she finally stopped at his belly button, her breath ragged, sweat running down her temples. her eyes had never left his face.

jackie sheathed the knife back into it's rightful place, and she took a moment to catch her breath as the man below her continued his weakening sobs of pain. she swung her legs from atop him, worried his blood would stain her pants. inspecting her stained hands, she wiped them on the man's upper chest before she ran her hands through her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail. people should at least let her tie her hair back before attacking her- it was inconsiderate in the least. she took her time, pulling out her baby hairs to frame her face as the man beside her lie crying, blood soaking into the earth. she eventually rose to her feet, calmly locating her gun and holstering it, and scanning the area for any other belongings.

jackie picked up the man's backpack, shouldering it onto her back and clipping the straps around her waist. adjusting her belt to the new pressure, jackie turned to look back at the dying man, her face blank. after a silent pause, she slowly took a few steps towards him before placing the bottom of her boot upon his face. she tilted her foot backwards, angling the heel of her boot atop one of his eyes, and with a bend of her knees, she forced the heel down into the eye, ruining it with minimal effort. his cries intensified, though jackie paid little attention to him. she shook her boot absentmindedly, ridding some of the remains from her heel with a frown.

with that, jackie determined her work finished. she adjusted her newly acquired backpack upon her shoulders, and continued her stroll through the woods, headed back towards her camp, wondering if her cat churchhill had tore into the new bag of kibble while she was away.

// sO rushed and sloppy, but i wanted to write jackie's darker capabilities and highlight her complete disregard and lack of empathy when killing
« Last Edit: May 02, 2019, 02:29:28 AM by JVCKIE »
the room is empty
and the window is open