left hand libertine @antniacmpana - Tumblr Blog

mafiosii‌:

she had been dreading this. truly. before boulder county, there was cheyenne — and she had seen this before. it took the last of her remaining group, the people who took her and zia eva in with some hesitation. the people, the crowds, the yelling : it’s disorganized, and she clenches her teeth as she brings one foot in front of the other to bring bad news.

“half the people you set up to watch the perimeter outside have no idea what they’re doing.” it isn’t like rory to go against the boss : she has had 18 years of practice for that but the panic clings to everyone and it can’t be helped. "do we have any more people? two or three snipers isn’t enough to watch over the guards. we’ll be overwhelmed —" ah, of course. rory damiani never forgets to think about the worst of what could happen. “— i think we’re making too much noise. or at least everyone else around us is.”

Nia doesn’t bother trying not to show how this riles her. She bristles despite herself, despite knowing that Rory is still a child and is prone to whining like she doesn’t have the initiative to handle any of these problems herself. People would listen to her, Nia had no doubt, if she would just raise her voice confidently instead of angrily.

At the same time, she knows this is an unusual situation. She’s not comfortable herself either. “The horde comes whether we make noise or not. It will die down once everyone is settled in the job they’ve been given, give it an hour more.” She paused to think about the rest of their camp, their raiders, the few rogues they’d let in due to the mass of zombies headed their way. “As for snipers... There are a few good shots who aren’t already armed. How many do you need?”

#( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#no i love it #rory #mafiosii

hattieadler‌:

the brewery, as she knew it would, was starting to fill up. people left and right were appearing seeking out shelter and help and food and goddamn band aids. but hattie was growing ever more anxious as more fresh faces appeared. she was terrified she wouldn’t have ENOUGH medical supplies to tide them over through this mess of the dead. when the radio had crackled to life, she KNEW things would be bad. but she hadn’t expected them to be this crazy in such a short amount of time.

“ i … i think i should go out for a bit. find more supplies. with all the people, nia, i … i can’t keep up. we’ll have nothing LEFT by the time this is over. and … we need to be prepared for anything. i can … i can run out and be back in two hours. at the most. whether or not i find what we need. ”

Hattie was a capable young woman and Nia knew that, but in her haste to make sure they could withstand this chaos, she was being short and concise ( and very, very careful ) with everyone. This talk of leaving made her jaw tight with concern. “We need you here, Hattie,” she said warily. She was considering it, though. “And you may not even have two hours. I don’t want to lose anyone before the fucking biters even reach us.”

#this is so bad srry #( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#hattie #hattieadler

Never let it be said that Antonia Campana couldn’t plan for a crisis. The Left Hand Brewery was teeming with busy people, busy raiders and busy rogues seeking shelter from the coming storm. La tormenta perfecta. Nia had given everyone a job, whether they wanted one or not; she’d tripled the number of watchers at their perimeter, whether they were sentinels or not; and she’d made sure she wasn’t idle either so that no one could say she wasn’t worth her shit.

She absolutely was. Their preparations were going to pay off and she knew it. They had guns and ammo, they had gasoline, they had plenty of eyes on the city stretching out past their territory, and plenty of ears on the radio to keep updates coming to the camp as soon as they were broadcast. But in a crisis, there was always more to do. “What is it? Spit it out,” she demanded. “We have only so much time.”

#hells.pdstarter #here goes !#( & she will always bite back — headcanons )#starter

backonorthernshores

#also a little taste of #mexican culture #which i love #( sucking out the poison — inspo )#( snakes have scales of justice — the libertine )#( always carry a small snake — images )#( & she will always bite back — headcanons )

bcdycold‌:

the smile that crept into her solemn expression was almost childlike – it was one which had grown out of a wash of relief. it wasn’t often that a life could be placed into another’s hands or at the very least, have a shoulder to lean on. rarer still were that others cared whether another lived or died. talk often centred on the brutality of raiders, the callous objectives that paid no heed. ‘ you know, nia – no, never mind. ’

perhaps it was better to save the gushy ( but genuine ) thank-you-for-saving-me-in-time spiel for later. her back teeth ground in frustration. a hot flush of embarrassment raced to her cheeks in realising her hands were empty, weaponless. she had left the mission of unfastening the gun from its holster the moment antonia’s voice slipped over her shoulder. now the pistol sat in her hands, fingernails running over the cool metal as she scoured the street corner for an opening. NOTHING.

‘ they’re getting closer. don’t think i can double back, either. what are we gonna do now? ’

Nia was desperate, truly desperate, to hear what Martine thought better of saying. Her favorite kind of outbursts were those punctuated by immediate regret. Nia had learned to curb her tongue — well, no, more like use her words carefully — from a young age, with three older brothers to boss her around. When she insulted, it stung. When she praised, you could fly. She knew her strengths.

Her face was red, embarrassment mostly, Nia assumed. But they didn’t have time for that now. Those corpses would catch a glimpse or a cent or the smallest sound any moment and they’d be... Well, trapped. Nia rubbed her thumb along the hilt of her gun in its holster, turning slowly in a circle to survey the alleyway they’d found themselves in. “We are going to quietly, slowly, go through that broken window. Step one,” she said, nodding toward the window. “Come.”

#( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#martine #bcdycold

narcotic

#( sucking out the poison — inspo )#( snakes have scales of justice — the libertine )#( not all poisons are deadly — musings )#( always carry a small snake — images )

girlablaze‌:

YOU THINK WRONG. briar scoffs at that , eyes darting away from the woman & across the views of this church in vexation ; briar sinclair is never wrong , just simply opinionated – or sparking the flames of an argument that could have been avoided. ( she does love a good DEBATE , especially when faced with leadership. briar has never been one to be told what to do. )

❛ clever , but you don’t think your god has discovered that blind spot by now? ❜ she doesn’t feel uncomfortable here like many would , a face staring back at her with a JUDGMENT she doesn’t seem to feel ; she has plenty of deeds to be ‘confessed ’ , to be judged for accordingly , but god isn’t one she should be asking forgiveness from. it’s from others , it’s from herself —- the presence of religion is lost on her , long washed away with blood & grief. ❛ or maybe the gods aren’t even listening anymore & you’re wasting your time. ❜ maybe the gods are all DEAD , gone , and a prayer is nothing more than your voice drifting through the winds — a broken down payphone with nothing but a dead line ; that’s what she believes. briar’s shoulders lift into a shrug. ❛ global domination , i suppose — or maybe just boulder county domination , who knows. ❜

Clearly, Briar didn’t like that answer very much. More so, Nia didn’t care. She thought it was funny, even, that she thought she could argue with hostages. That’s what God really had over her — her family. Dead and gone and held by God. One day, she’d get them back, but she hoped it wouldn’t be soon.

“Maybe,” she says with a shrug. She lets Briar continue, just watching her think and contemplate and wonder why the hell one might still pray after the dead claw their way up from hell. And she actually laughs, thinking about Boulder County domination. “Who knows, hm? You’re right about that. I might want more. What would you pray for, if you believed?”

#@ briar pls continue nia needs it haha #keep her on her toes #( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#briar

shcperd‌:

❝ being LIKED isn’t exactly on my agenda, ❞ he informs her, hands trying to see for any hidden nooks and crannies where these priests or w h a t e v e r could’ve hidden something good. he doesn’t think them INCAPABLE of doing so – the church had plenty of demons within its walls; he hardly believes hell was the problem. ❝ finding a drink, however – now that’s something i’m interested in. you wouldn’t know where they kept those things, would you ? ❞ elijah works his way behind the altar. a liquor store would’ve been a better option but if there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that things are found in UNEXPECTED places. a liquor store ? too obvious and likely empty at this point. the apocalypse made alcoholics out of all of them. her reply has him turning – the echo of this s a c r e d temple is starting to grind on his nerves and he might kick the altar down any second. he doesn’t think she would APPRECIATE that and he’s not inclined to shatter the tiny trust they’ve built here, albeit momentarily and frail. he struts down the steps to where antonia had stayed to finish her prayers. or try to, anyway. ❝ oh ? so you think humans did this ? are humans more powerful than god ? ❞ so he IS making fun of her – can anyone blame him ? the idea of faith seems ludicrous and pointless in their world. plus, he’s bored out of his mind. ❝ how does GOD answer them ? ❞

She sucked on her teeth, eyes narrowed, suspicion growing at every further sentence he uttered. Sneaking around in a church, stealing from people who dedicated their lives to helping others, helping everyone who needed it. Nia had been on the receiving end many, many times. But there was no one here now... All those who dedicated their lives... Those lives were over.

But not theirs. Nia watched as he bent to search through the altar cupboards. Catholics didn’t have that. These Presbyterians, or whatever they were, they skimped on everything. “Tacaños,” she murmured under her breath. He stepped down toward her and she wished she’d made the first move instead, so she could stand over him for just a moment and be taller. Pero ay... she’d missed her chance.

“I’m a Catholic,” she admits, stepping forward to meet him. “So anything good is manmade, anything bad...” He’s getting on her nerves, but Nia’s smart enough to know he’s doing it on purpose. So she paints a little smirk on her lips and doesn’t give him the satisfaction. “He answers in little gifts if you can see them. We give our guilt to God. He gave me... tools. To save my home in México. He gave me a new home, here.”

#lol i'm glad u liked it #( trained to do what's best — convo )#she's really getting into this #philosophical discussion lol

mafiosii‌:

she finds herself smiling at the thought of it. rory damiani has relied on violence her entire life, so she knows this one by heart : nia doesn’t have to tell her twice. though, it’s nice to have PERMISSION — her days as the eccentric passerotta of her neighbourhood never saw those. the brewery’s suggestion fills rory with … excitement that she buzzes with it.

“that’s fine, i guess.” she crosses over to sit beside her, resting her feet on the next pew in front of them. “i could always just beat them. or –” her eyes widen slightly as an idea passes through her train of thoughts. “– you know what? i could start a fight club.” it’s a nice thought, isn’t it? the mob has no such thing. it’s far too unruly, disorderly — but rory is all kinds of violence, she wouldn’t mind trying it. “we could make a whole business out of it, if we’re smart enough.”

Nia likes that little smile on her face. She’s mischievous. She’s smart. Everything that had enticed Nia in the first place, made her want to take Rory into the brewery and give her a useful job and some... Moderate perks.

“A fight club?” she questioned, intrigued. She’d seen the movie, obviously, but she wasn’t sure what Rory was plotting. She was still trying to figure out if she could trust Rory with those perks. “What kind of business, at the end of civilization?”

#( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#rory #mafiosii

hattieadler‌:

she’s quick to nod and offer the other a quick smile; straightening her backpack. she’s thankful it isn’t a stranger. conversing with ANYONE was difficult for her most days. she preferred to keep quiet. but conversing with people she knew was slightly less exhausting. a nap would still be in order later. as long as no one needed anything from her. hattie was always eager to help over anything else. even if she was DYING for a chance to be alone for awhile. to rest her tired bones.

“ yeah! i’m fine. i was just … trying to find a way into this pharmacy. the front is padlocked which … i mean it might be stocked full of supplies in there. ” she was itching to find out. she wouldn’t take ALL of it, of course. she would leave stuff for others. but she was eager to gather what they could. to keep their own stock healthy. “ can you help me find the backdoor? and maybe help me break in. ” she wasn’t overly good at breaking into anything. but she did her BEST.

Nia caught the brunette’s nod and watched her posture carefully. She’d noticed Hattie was quiet, didn’t often opt to say very much, but her posture called attention to her attitude far more. And when she did speak, it was with that bright, happy tone that Nia seldom heard around here.

“Or it might be already ransacked,” she reminded her, seeing her excitement at the prospect. “But it’s still worth a look.” Getting in would probably prove easier — or, at least, safer — than getting back out. But Nia had come prepared. Any free pocket was filled with a weapon. As usual. “I think I saw I door around this side,” she said, leading Hattie toward the back of the building.

#( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#hattie #hattieadler

mafiosii‌:

faith. what has that ever done for anyone? rory has uttered these thoughts out loud before in the presence of her nonna, and it is a memory that rory could do without. how angry she was, how disrespected she felt — perhaps, faith did her good and that is why she’s on its side. all faith ever did rory was dirty. does she still believe in god? of course, but being the creator of man doesn’t exempt him from the resentment that fills her heart until it overflows, and she is forced to destroy herself and others with it.

she refrains from rolling her eyes, from scoffing. in retrospect, nia reminds rory of a grandmother … not the harsh and brute sicilian woman who will carry her husband’s entire establishment in his stead ( — not yet ) but the kind who will turn every and any joke into a lecture. “sure,” the young woman sighs. “sure. i can put more faith in them if they stopped stealing my rations, how about that? you know, one of them had the audacity to bribe me — and it wasn’t even a good trade.” rory wrinkles her nose at the memory. “and it’s like we get good stuff everyday, too.” she’ll spend the rest of this conversation complaining … after all, it seems warranted. “i could write all these in a suggestion box but … i don’t think you have a suggestion box.”

It’s not hard to read Rory’s thoughts on her face. She shows them off — even if she doesn’t mean to — with flourish and fury. It was juvenile and Nia remembered times when she, too, presented every word with a huff and a glare. But she had had her father to deal with it, to pour in tenacity in place of impulsivity. Rory didn’t have that. She was still young, and her family was... Dead, in all likelihood. Unless God decided to enact some miracle.

Nia shrugged off her explanation easily. It didn’t concern her. People stole, people bartered, people cheated. You had to protect yourself. “Show them the back end of that rifle,” she suggested, waving a languid hand. “You could beat faith right into them.”

#girl i hope not #rory's perfect #( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#rory #mafiosii

tarrcntino‌:

italia found it laughable . faith , in these times . as people died in the most inhumane ways . where as one would die every second in the old world here ! you blink , and ten would die . the undead would grow , replacing them . there was no God . but that was her choice . to believe . maybe it helped her sleep better at night . to the tarrentino , anything that didn’t guarantee another day was useless .

she had had enough of their talking . moving as the gun was lowered , she put a knee to the floor , searching in between the seats . moving the bibles away . ❝ if you think every one who attended C H U R C H had nothing to leave behind , ❞ bingo , she thinks , as she pulls out a stick of gum from in between two pages , ❝ you haven’t been looking hard enough . ❞

Nia watched as she knelt between the pews, rifling through Bibles and hymnals. She took those words with quite a few grains of salt, more annoyed every passing moment. “I don’t do much looking in churches.”

Lips pursed, she kept her eyes carefully trained on the top of her head. It wasn’t like she was stealing from Antonia. They weren’t even in the brewery, so she wasn’t stealing from her new home. Somehow, though, she felt rather protective. She knew it wasn’t the building that brought God to her, it was the faith. But this was her place. “What do you think you’re going to find?”

#omg perfect gif usage #lol #( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#italia #tarrcntino

girlablaze‌:

ask briar’s opinion about THE ALMIGHTY and you won’t get much more than a scoff or a roll of her eyes as your answer ( perhaps , a deriving comment about his usefulness. ) she’s not a FAN , not one to fall to her knees at his alter & pray or beg for something more than she had now — for safety , shelter , protection , hope — please. if you wanted those things , best not waste your time asking HIM & go out and get it yourself ; but she wasn’t always one to scowl upon the holy name. the sinclair’s were the church on sundays , give thanks & pray type too once ; before that family DIED & whatever respect briar had for the faith along with it.

so no , she’s not here to do what her leader was doing at the foot of the cross ; she’s here out of . . . curiosity to what nia was up to , so far from the brewery’s walls — it’s safe to presume briar still carries a wariness for her camp , including those that hold the reins. TRUST , she’s learnt , is something you give out sparingly ; and not to those that were once enemy. but they’re not anymore , are they? ❛ could ask the same of you , didn’t think anyone is the praying type anymore. ❜ no , what she means to say is she doesn’t think anyone from the raider side of town was the praying type – nor carried the same merciful tendencies that GOD is supposed to share. heaven , hell ; briar knew which ones they were all in for & it wasn’t a paradise. ❛ be careful , this place won’t save anyone from a good lightning bolt , especially one who curses in the house of the lord. ❜ lips quirk as she speaks , fingertips coming to tap against the wooden pews. ❛ so , what are you praying for? ❜

Nia’s hand found her hip as she waited for a response, expectant and unimpressed. Briar was rather new at the brewery, compared to Nia herself and some of the others, and besides that, Nia only trusted most people as far as she could spit. “You think wrong,” she said simply.

Her mouth twisted into half a smile, imagining what she’d have to do to God if he tried to strike her down. “I curse in English because my God speaks Spanish,” she explained, turning back to face the altar. “I’m praying for myself, claro que sí. What else?” It was a lie. A simple one, a little one, but a lie nonetheless. She prayed for her family. Her parents, mostly, and some of the brothers she’d lost before this all began. But they were all dead now and God had taken up their souls to one kingdom or another. And wherever they were, she prayed for them.

#aboslutely!#i love #( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#briar #girlablaze

hepburny

Mr. Bartholomew: Mrs. Lampert, do you know what C.I.A. is? Regina Lampert: I don’t suppose it’s an airline, is it?

Charade (1963) dir. Stanley Donen

#( sucking out the poison — inspo )#( always carry a small snake — images )#( her hiss is a privilege — quotes )#fearless cult leader #back at it again

mafiosii‌:

“most people aren’t me.” rory retorts with a cheshire-like grin, a shrug of her shoulder before she rests the sniper rifle on one of the empty pews of this strange … church, of sorts. it feels wrong to be here — just as it feels wrong to be outside of these walls, out there in the unrelenting and smothering silence. the leader’s remarks cause a scowl to cross her features, and rory is SKEPTICAL … what is she implying? whatever it is, the young woman is displeased.

“no shit. what i mean is… it’s literally the beginnings of a creepypasta out there, i’m telling you.” though she’s not sure how to describe it. rory rolls her eyes and speaks through slightly gritted teeth, “but whatever. you’re probably too old to get what that means.” she sighs, “if you’re trying to say that i’m not doing my job, let me remind you who keeps watch of your camp day and night even when your sentinels are constantly pussy-ing out.”

Nia is glad enough when the girl puts down her rifle, even just so that she can holster her own weapon. It feels wrong to her to hold it in this place, despite her true faith that God understood extenuating circumstances. Violence has been done in many churches... Nia had seen it done herself, though she hadn’t participated. And didn’t plan to. Rory’s little scowl is almost laughable compared to the memories flickering off and on in Nia’s head.

Ignoring her anger, she only tilts her head when the girl starts going on about pasta. She’s not wrong — Nia has no idea what she’s talking about until she returns to the important thing, the sniper versus the sentinels. “Serenidad ahora,” she muttered under her breath, looking up at Jesus crucified on the wall. She crossed herself with finality, an end to her first prayer, and turned back to Rory. “Yes, while you are safe up on the roof, they see the dead coming at them in all their rotting hunger. They have reason to be scared, though I wish we could put more faith in them.”

#i love her ??#( she raises her poisonous head — convo )#rory #mafiosii

ghostsandgoblins

Anastasia (1997) dir. Don Bluth and Gary Goldman

#( snakes have scales of justice — the libertine )#fearless cult leader #amirite?#( always carry a small snake — images )#( her hiss is a privilege — quotes )#( sucking out the poison — inspo )

zodiacismylife-blog

Fuck apologies, I’m not sorry for anything.

Aries, Scorpio, Sagittarius,Aquarius and Geminis. (via zodiacismylife)

#( sucking out the poison — inspo )#( her hiss is a privilege — quotes )#( snakes have scales of justice — the libertine )#( not all poisons are deadly — musings )

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