Take me out of the oven

cause I'm so DONe... I'm the problem that you're never gonna solve

[-kokoro]

[dontknowchev]

What a waste of space.

[adrian-mendoza]

[adrian-mendoza]

[adrian-mendoza]

caragoetz :

cara grabbed a third bottle of vodka to put in her shopping basket, sighing as she started to look around for mixers. she had had a rough week and all she wanted to do was drink until she couldn’t remember it anymore. “excuse me, you’re in my way.” she said, pointing to the two-liter bottle of mountain dew in front of the person she was speaking to.

Hopefully unbeknownst to her, Mathias was inconspicuously watching the lady make her way through the isles of the liqueur store ((or the grocery store’s liqueur section - you know, depending on which store they’re at)) as she gathered in her basket a generous supply of one of the hardest liqueurs a person could buy.  His own basket simply held a 6 pack of ginger beer to settle his tummy and some watermelon wine coolers.  In high school, holding drinks like the ones he now bought electively would’ve been embarrassing, but they tasted like liquid candy and his tolerance for this particular vice was almost non-existent.  That kind of stupid shit didn’t embarrass Mathias anymore; might as well enjoy the process of getting tipsy, especially since his plan was to do this alone in his motel room while watching some rando shit on Netflix.

By the time he was noticed, Mathias was, indeed, in her way, and this was very much intentional.  Leaning cockily against the isles shelving, further blocking her way, Mathias matched the cockiness in his body language with his equally cocky, but cheerful smirk and flirty tone. 

“Interesting; you could’ve easily walked right the fuck around me, but you apparently wanna chat me up!”’

“You got some kinda party going on in your near future?”  Mathias gestured towards the contents of her basket as he added his prodding remark.

[adrian-mendoza]

[adrian-mendoza]

OOC:  Kindly disregard anything under this post please, thanks!

She’s obviously a different character... maybe she’ll show up later but not now

[adrian-mendoza]

lawfulove :

“ come inside. ”      the lucky yellow cab pulls away once adrian has exited;   delisa has an automatic payment system worked out with the company,   she uses their services so often for those underprivileged guests she likes to keep arriving right on time.      “ i have a present for you,   adrian. ”      generosity doesn’t come from a place of kindliness per se,   more so a sense of primacy of taste and possessions,   this gift is likely one of fashion.   adrian is beautiful but has little means to accentuate this.   leads the way up cobbled drive to meticulously decorated and imposing redwood home;   patient and only leaving the door open for adrian,   not holding it for her.   likes to encourage visitors to find their own bearings within her space   —–   so she can take that away a little later on.

private starter for  @adrian-barrocap.

Even as she’s stepping out of her cab, Adrian has no idea what she’d obtain by showing up.  The best guesses she has are along the lines of social services.  It would be easy to tell herself that she has nothing to lose, but having seen her share of dangerous women, Adrian knows that she should stay partly on edge.  Regardless, she didn’t have much to lose, and Adrian figures that she’s on the harder side of ‘dangerous’ herself. How dangerous could some other lady really be? 

Eager for this ‘present’, or at least for her curiosity as to what the fuck it is to be quelled, Adrian follows closely behind the other.

“Was I supposed to’ve dressed up?”

Despite her question, Adrian’s tone is pretty unapologetic.  She’d gotten what she is wearing by walking into a high school with her backpack like she belonged there, and having a student point her towards the girls’ gym locker room, where she could raid the lost-and-found.

[adrian-mendoza]

Fuck-Marry-Kill: jake, terrence, and david?

Well, I can’t answer accurately, I don’t know these guys.

So whichever dude would boss me around the least?  I’ll marry that one.  Dude who’s most controlling of the 3?  I’ll toss him off a cliff.  Then I’ll fuck the one who’s left.  Sound fair enough?

[adrian-mendoza]

jaxmitchell :

He tipped back the bottle and took a few shots in one go. His features contorted as the vodka burned all the way down until he let out a breath and looked up at his company. “Well don’t be a fucking disappointment, you gonna drink with me or not?” He asked as he passed the bottle over.

“Okay.. but not because you told me to.”  The rings on Adrian’s fingers plinked the glass bottle as she yanked it away from the guy.  Trying to match what he’d done, she only managed choked down three gulps before her body threatened to heave - though, she was able to hide the thorough unpleasantness provided by the bottle’s contents from her features.  “Classy, man... but can I make a suggestion?”

[adrian-mendoza]

The Blackest Day ||  Adrian & David

[adrian-mendoza]

huntingchase:

          there are few DOWNSIDES to living in a town like fictumterra palms, but the slow traffic in and out of the area can tend to be one of them. some people like the QUIET and some people don’t—it’s more likely for david to fall in line with the latter. he’s more social by nature, despite his DEVILISH streak, and the lack of easy access to PEOPLE can create a nasty dry spell. nobody likes to go too long without indulging, but when it comes to his so-called HOBBIES he’s on something of a TIME budget. especially when his INSOMNIA starts to creep back in.

          but without anyone NEW back home, he has to leave his safer hunting grounds and start edging out into the rest of the desert. it’s not unusual, but as with all CRIME outside of their upside-down town, there’s RISK involved. not that someone like him cares much about that. as far as he’s concerned, he’ll be doing this the rest of his life, relatively worry-free. even so, it’s always better when he’s in a place he knows well—the old ROADS outside of town aren’t as COMFORTABLE as the sprawled suburbs within it.

          it’s a good thing he’s been PREPARED for these times for a good few years. there’s a few spots out away from fictumterra that can suffice when the MOOD sets in, one of which is just as seedy and surveillance-free as he likes: a truck stop not too far from him. maybe he can corner some poor SUCKER in the bathrooms and take the edge off. if he’s really lucky, he’ll be able to drag them back into town instead of leaving them ALIVE to deal with his atrocity.

          anticipation settles over him like a thick BLANKET, an all too familiar feeling on the nights he’s motivated to act. it’s all he can do to keep himself focused on the road, the idea of satisfying that PRIMAL itch almost causing him to miss the fact that there’s a hitchhiker on the side of the road. luckily ( for him ) he’s able to SNAP back to attention in time to compose himself for routine—he can’t let her see him LEERING at her. instead, he casually checks the TIME. mulls it over for a few seconds. does he really want to? his body language seems to say. sure, why not? and pull over he does, rolling down the WINDOW with a smile.

          ❝ where are you HEADING?” ❞

Taking a thick breath to help swallow her pride, Adrian answered the way she would’ve when something was asked of her by a prison guard, or one of the ‘counselors’ at Antioch; back there, she had to resonate a certain submissive vibe when she spoke to her authority figures, withholding confidence from tone without sacrificing the volume and enunciation it took for what she said to be heard clearly - Jesus, God help her if she had to be asked to repeat herself.  

There was certainly shame in what she had to tell the guy who pulled over; the only reasonable guess as to what the hell she’d be doing at the truck stop was the probably the accurate one.  This didn’t make Adrian too thrilled about having to tell him ‘where she was heading’, but he would obviously need to know if that’s where he’d be dropping her off.

“I need to get to the weigh station... you know, the one up the road a few miles - that truck stop?”  

Impressing herself in the casually informative nonchalance that managed to come through in her tone - withholding any fake confidence, as well as the real shame she felt - Adrian briefly cracked a smile.  The guy was doing her a favor, after all, so a hint of friendliness was the least she could do for him.  

Many hitchhikers put in the effort of making a cardboard sign informing drivers of their destination.  But as far as Adrian was aware, there weren’t any farms or townships between where they were and where she needed to get to, so anyone driving the direction all the cars on her side of the road were headed would be passing that truck stop, anyway and she hadn’t bothered with a sign.  The guy in the car that pulled over asked her where she was headed, but didn’t open the door for her, so Adrian took a few steps towards him, slowly reaching for the handle on the passenger's side of his car, waiting for him to either lean over and open it for her, or coax her into going ahead and opening it herself so she could climb in.

[adrian-mendoza]

[adrian-mendoza]

scoutbailey :

Scout wasn’t one to trust people, so asking for help in the first place was a risk. The only reason that she did was because she lived in a van. If he were to follow her he would recognize the creepy white van as Vance’s and it would give him something to look for around town if he ever intended to get back at her for the blood she spilled. Even though Adrian didn’t appear to be much of a threat, Scout was paranoid. What if that was the whole point? To look unassuming and lure her back somewhere? What if she had a gun? A plan? No, Scout wasn’t going back to any motel room with her. 

“Right. . . .” She said when the long haired brunette mentioned how she might be dangerous but not to her. What an odd, suspicious thing to say. “Just walk with me to the pastry shop maybe?” She requested. “You probably don’t want him to know where you stay if he does decide to keep following, and that shop is just a few blocks from here. Public enough that I doubt he’d try anything but this park is looking like a ghost town so I don’t trust it.” She said, not wanting the girl to pick up on the paranoia she harbored toward her. Scout knew there was a fair chance the girl wasn’t a threat but she didn’t take such risks, not after what she had already gone through. “I’ll buy you something from there if you want?”

“Yeah, that’ll work... I’ll take a pastry.”  This was extra helpful, being that Adrian, having sacrificed buying any food for being able to cover the motel’s weekly fee, hadn’t eaten yet today.  Come to think of it, she didn’t eat anything yesterday, either; she drank most of a half gallon of whole milk, which she now wish she’d saved more of.  Coffee and water were free at the motel, so she had filled her stomach with that, and was in no position to pass up on some actual food.  

As Adrian pivoted, the other girl clued her in on knowing at least a little something about whoever it was that had her so freaked out.  While Adrian didn’t protest going to a coffee shop, which was at least an extra block of walking with the presence of whatever danger looming over them, she did test her suspicion out on the other as they walked together just briskly enough not to appear conspicuous, 

“You know, I’ve been followed by creeps before... only reason you’d need to really worry about letting them know that you’re home is if they’ve got a more vested interest in you.  So!  Are weeee dodging some rando stranger, or a guy you’ve got a real problem with?”  

[adrian-mendoza]

The Blackest Day ||  Adrian & David

@huntingchase

“You got a dollar to spare?”  Saying the phrase even after just the second time felt pretty degrading, and Adrian thought she understood ‘degrading’.  Tied up naked in a concrete cylinder capped with a metal grate that her peers and ‘mentors’ would stand on while they sprayed her with water?  She’d done that!  Cavity search upon being checked into prison?  She’d done that too!  Did she not survive all that shit?  Why did panhandling, of all things, feel so painfully pathetic?  

It might’ve been more lucrative in some other place, where busy intersections actually existed... along with, maybe, some wealth and prosperity enriching the lives of the car’s occupants, but here, outside a shitty-looking convenience store, Adrian was just getting pocket change here and there.  And every time she had to engage someone, widening her eyes to appear as innocent and pitiful as possible, she felt a stab in her soul that she hadn’t anticipated.

Counting what she had after what felt like all day, but what ended up being 45 minutes, Adrian’s thoughts crept back into the truck that had brought her here.  The way standing on the corner of a busy city street would put her on display, even if it made her $40 an hour, was, bafflingly, what nauseated Adrian.  Discretely gratifying an even more pathetic person in the privacy of his truck?  Panhandling for less than an hour had lured her mindset to a place where she figured she could do it again.  She’d been abused before; did her body really matter that much?  It’d be a different demographic engaging her over there - the ‘truck stop culture’ wasn’t exactly judgmental about a whole lot.   But she’d have to get there first.

Knowing that some super elaborate, slutty costume wasn’t necessary, Adrian went back to her motel room to shower and reapply some eyeliner.  After using what she had to layer up for the weather, while still presenting a sufficient mix of youth and tart, Adrian downed some more coffee to take the edge off how starving she was and then walked back to the main highway that would head out of town.  Not bothering to bring herself to look any drivers in the eye with body language that wasn’t exactly screaming ‘don’t fuck with me’, she stuck out her thumb.

[adrian-mendoza]

itsalex-morris :

As Alex felt the girl before him grab onto him, he held onto her arm to help steady her - just in case she felt she was going to fall. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched her head whip around, scanning the surroundings. “Ahh.. are you okay?” he asked hesitantly as he noticed her balling his shirt in her hand. He was extremely confused as to what the hell was going on. He glanced around himself in case there was anyone threatening lingering nearby. “What are you doing?” 

“Shhh..”  Still pretending to be focused on whatever it was that could be following her, and posed whatever threat.  After using another half second to frantically look around, her body language said that while she’d lost them, she was still on edge.  Adrian let go of the guy, put her hood up, finally latched eyes with him and shook her head with a firm ‘no, I’m not’, then ducked into a nearby corner that shrouded her in the relative safety of shade, and being out of visual range of the street.  Hoping she’d run into some sort of ‘good Samaritan’, she fell against the brick of the building, appearing to be catching her breath.

[adrian-mendoza]

Tell us about your time in prison.

Prison?  Not actually that bad.  Boring.  Boring as fuck.  Monotonous - and that’s gotta be the whole point, right?  ‘Cause for every minute and a half of sheer terror anyone of us experienced, there was, like, a week and a half, at least, of nothing.  

I read a lot.  I wrote, too - the pencils they gave us were tiny, like, 2 inches long, but that didn’t matter.  You earned privileges, which gave you access to things like rec rooms (I found a music room).   I learned that you had to sign out tampons one by one... and how many tens of dozens of times someone can get stabbed before they can’t walk away from it on their own.

I’ll give them one thing, though; as dangerous as this probably was, I got to keep my hair.  Thank god.  I know it would’ve grown back, but it was mine... and I got to keep it.

[adrian-mendoza]

“i always wished i could paint like that,” august laments, voice quiet as he stares up at a picture of the virgin mary. the church is silent besides him, the only sound coming from where it drifts in through the open doors. “but i doubt you’re here to listen to me complain about my lack of talents. is there anything i can do for you?”

“Oh yeah?”  Her gaze scans the same painting the other is lamenting over; Adrian briefly reflects over her own inability to paint, but the way she so thoroughly lacks that skill, to an almost hilarious degree, never bugged her.  

“I wish I could play that... “ Adrian cocks her head towards the part of the sanctuary that had been holding her attention - the pipe organ.  

She can hold her own on an acoustic piano, being self-taught after earning privileges that enabled her to use what was at the well enough behaved inmate’s disposal in the music room at Utah’s women’s penitentiary.  Once she got the privilege, she took full advantage; a prison sentence, above all else, meant waiting... and what feels like an unimaginable amount of waiting means a desperate search for anything and everything could help occupy this seemingly infinite supply of time one has during their wait.  

The nifty little talent she now has is the result of hours upon hours of having nothing better to do for months upon months.  It probably hasn’t quite been ten thousand hours worth of practice, so it’s not as if she considers herself an expert, but the Adrian who started on the piano a year and a half ago would’ve been impressed by what she could do six short weeks later, which obviously didn’t hold a candle to what she could do six months after that.  At this point?!  Hell, maybe she’s amazing at it!  It’s not as of she’s had the chance to show it off.  In prison, she always used the piano’s incredibly effective sound absorber while she was learning,

This pipe organ is far more beautiful than the old, donated piano on which she’d picked up her skill, and it has several extra rows of keys, including the foot petals, which blows Adrian’s mind; as an organ player, she’d effectively need to learn to play piano with her feet.  Jesus, the size and elaborate elegance of the thing is straight up intimidating.

“I’m not here for anything specific, so you can feel free to bitch about whatever.”  Is there anything he can do for her?  There likely is, but Adrian has no idea which angle to play, other than one that assumes his good intention. 

“Why, are you the pastor?  Are you offering to absolve me of all my sin?  ‘Cause if not, I’m hoping you’re the church organist, or, like, the cantor, or whatever.  Church choir director?  Can you, perchance, play that thing?!”

[adrian-mendoza]