⋆˚࿔ ♯ 𝙰𝚁𝙺𝟺𝙽𝙶𝙻 ╭ is a dependent and private blog featuring characters from ridefm. written by alice ˢʰᵉ + ʰᵉʳ, ²², ᶜˢᵗ !
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RMH
Misplaced Lens Cap
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izzy's playlists!
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JBB: An Artblog!
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Andulka
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Show & Tell

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YOU ARE THE REASON

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

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Sade Olutola

Discoholic 🪩
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@ark4ngl
⋆˚࿔ ♯ 𝙰𝚁𝙺𝟺𝙽𝙶𝙻 ╭ is a dependent and private blog featuring characters from ridefm. written by alice ˢʰᵉ + ʰᵉʳ, ²², ᶜˢᵗ !
𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐨 ↺ info pinterest threads
𝐟𝐞𝐢 ↺ info pinterest threads
their meeting was neither fate's pull , or coincidence's trick : the pair orbited in the same space , shared an acquaintance , but they would have lived just the same without crossing paths . it was the result of a single lingering stare , and a decision based off of the moment's needs . history is brumous , though not forgotten ⸻ it is the only reason why venus does not find herself completely detached from the moment .
" my time's valuable . . . i'm sure you're aware , mister càrdenas . " she offered with little energy , expression carved from the finest marble keeping its frigid nature . her movements reminiscent of a waltz , graceful and deliberate in each step of her feet , as she planted herself on the stool next to the former diablos .
" you've picked an interesting time to travel . " apsara spoke deliberately , curious tilt of her head slipping the locks of charcoal off of her shoulder . she's playing the field , getting a feel of the young heir's presence in town . all business , little pleasure . " director tuan is worried over your sudden and impromptu visit . "
milo watched the whiskey in his glass catch the light. a honeyed glow on liquid wood. director tuan. the name tasted old in his mouth, like something he'd already chewed through. “gosh, i can't imagine why, sar. i'm just a guy having a drink. that illegal now?”
he turned to look at her. eyes half-lidded like one might inspect a locked door. looking for a loose hinge. she held. she always held. even in his bed, she looked untouchable. milo's felt that before. like a person was so strong if they were shot in front of him, he'd expected them to get right back up, brust off her sleeves, and walk away. like iron, like myth. when she didn't even have the decency to avert her eyes in the face of inspection, he scoffed.
“what, he think i'm venturing into dangerous territory? you should let him know even the tourists pass through on anniversary night. i was born here. if he, like you've alluded, hasn't been let in on certain information...” his voice trailed for a moment as his heartbeat picked up. apsara tuan had the means to ruin him. not only with the rest of the board of directors, but with the media. if she took a few leaps of logic? with the law. but she hadn't done it. not yet. “then that should be enough to satisfy, don't ya' think?” he swivelled in his bar stool.
he tipped his head towards her, gaze flicking over her stance. still too straight, too composed, like she was filing this whole conversation away for later use. “god, you look like the fucking terminator just standing like that. sit down, doll, you can't contract poor and no one will touch you if i'm here.”
the bus had been burstin' at the seams. so busy, in fact, that mare had missed her stop for having to shove her way through all the people. stumbling out of the back doors at the subsequent stop had felt like pulling your feet out of deep, sticky mud and finding it had taken your shoes as a sacrifice. she'd only just turned to walk back the way she'd came when she was faced with this fresh hell. " . . . m . . . " she drags out the letter that would usually precede the rest of her name, contemplating her answer to the second question that supersedes the first before its body is even cold, " mare? " her tone pitches upwards, like it's some kind of question. " which children? " she counters, the inflection intended this time around. mare peers around the woman's shoulder pointedly. she's not seeing any children. for all mare knows, this lady's putting on a show to serve her some kind of papers, or worse, kidnap her. these things happened, her mother had always warned. don't trust nobody that just walks up to you grinnin' like a cheshire cat. " and i don't have any money to give, if that's what you're plannin' on asking next. " she tilts her head slightly, still examining the clipboard, " — so broke i can't even pay attention. " mare wants to walk away, hammering her punchline home — if only because it'd be funny. she stays, though. she suspects ignoring this lady'd be unchristian of her.
fei laughed. it was warm, effortless sound, but to abrupt to be entirely genuine. “oh, bless your heart, you would kill at that comedy club downtown!” she clasped her hands over the clipboard and took a step back, trying to put her at ease. balance. it was all about balance. make people feel seen, even if you aren't really looking.
“the children at st. joseph's,” she continued, as if they were both aware of what they were talking about all along. “have been underfunded for years. understaffed, undersupplied, you know the drill. but we're trying to change that!” she lifted the clipboard again, a gentle nudge.
“i get it, you don't want to be pressured. honestly, i wouldn't either!” her voice was light and brighter than the sun above them. “but this isn't about money, mare. that's a pretty name, mare.” she repeated the name again like she was tasting it, pausing a moment, but not letting up on her verbal onslaught. “it's really about support. the city listens when voices come together to make one loud one.”
she flipped black hair behind her shoulder, using the new space in her peripheral to confirm her suspicions that others that were exiting the bus had taken a moment to listen. “you'd be surprised how much people look up to people who are willing to stand for something. plus, couldn't hurt, could it? just your pretty little name on a page?”
"thinking to get you out of a tough spot? that's a rarity around here." cassie squinted at him like he was a puzzle she almost understood but not quite. her pupils were huge, swallowing up most of the brown in her eyes, and her fingers curled loosely around the edge of the bar like she might float away if she didn’t hold onto something. "slow down? i'm at the perfect speed. i'm sat, aren't i?" besides, she had forgot what she had even taken. whether it was meant to make her slow or buzzed. but right now she just felt chill. "looking out for me? yeah, i have a few people. they're not here right now though." she looked around sharply as if to check. she hoped they weren't. they'd probably try and make her go to bed. "...but, like," she started, a little slower this time, like the words were surprising her, "that’s real nice of you to ask." her smile this time was smaller. "not a lot of people do. like- really ask, y’know?" a beat. then- she perked up again, just as fast. "but," she announced, as if she hadn’t just had a brief brush with sincerity, "i am totally fine, thank you very much. this isn't even my final form." she tapped a finger to her temple, as if that meant anything.
“yeah? hate to break it to ya', your final form looks like it might topple off that stool any second," milo drummed his fingers against the bar. not quite the rhythm of the tune playing, but something melodic enough to allow his thoughts to focus. he wasn't the type to play babysitter, but the way she looked a bit like she was floating measured his decisions.
“tell you what," he leveled her with a look that was more resigned than anything. “if your so-called ‘few people’ haven't caught up to the party yet, i'll watch out for you for a bit. i'll admit, it's been a while since i've played wingman … but i'm not bad at it. i'm known to neck tequila shots like water, and i can carry your ass out of here if it looks like we're not getting anywhere good.” his fingers came up one by one, listing off what he can think of like a job application. milo shook his hair from his eyes and flashed a smile.
“in return i only want, ya' know, your name, to start.” he chuckled but it came out more like a release of air, shocked that he hadn't asked yet. “you to drink the whole glass of water when it comes, and maybe some help ordering the uber on the way back when we get gone. i'm an old man, and they dropped me off like two blocks from here earlier and i'm still not sure why.”
location: stratford main street status: open
sometimes, when the feedback from the public dipped a little bit, it paid to put in some elbow grease. fei wasn't raised like her husband was, even though she had become accustomed. it wouldn't kill her to stand in the sun for a while, a clipboard in her manicured hand. but she looked out of place, and the realization was like a sinking box in the water. years ago, she could walk the street and get little less attention than a nod from someone who liked the way her ponytail swayed when she walked. now, even those who clearly did not want to get dragged into signing whatever petition she had couldn't not look at her. that's fei riordan, isn't it?
“hi! hello! sorry to bother you!” fei flagged the next pedestrian down and half-jogged up to them, wedges clacking against the cement. “you have a minute, right? for the children?” she gave her sweetest smile, like honey dripping down the sides of its jar. the clipboard she shoved towards them was gathering signatures for a budget increase for the local orphanage. of course, her husband could do it now. all it would take is one signature of his own. but, the voters liked it when they felt like they got to choose.
fei scanned the person in front of her. she'd learned a long time ago to reduce them to numbers and opportunity, so much so it was hard to see faces now. “i'm fei, by the way! what's your name?”
whispers echoed from lips of kin to the maiden's ear , aroon trusting the bond of blood to do what he could not in straton . eyes holding the mysteries of the ocean kept close to the young master he served , like a puppy to its owner . he worried , but it ran surface deep , unable to breach the waves without knowing the complete story . venus was no angel , did not guard the gates to her uncle's bottomless pockets : but she was a tuan . a corrupted , crooked bond connecting each spawn of the dark blood .
she found him with little difficulty . few places burned tonight , and like a moth to a flame ⸻ every one , even ghosts , were drawn to one . the disposable clicked shut , and per request , was dropped into an unattended beer as she passed by . secrecy was second nature , each a mystery just as uncrackable as the next .
fingers reached for the familiar face of the bartender before she departed , slipping between digits a heavy black card . he would not , could not , drink her account dry , and aroon would simply fill the gap tonight would leave . " is it just as you remember ? i've learned little ever changes in this town . "
the bar hums around him, slowly easing his shoulders down. low conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, the sharp clink of someone's drink being set down. the smell of liquor, leather, and cigarette smoke lingers thick in the air. milo exhales slowly, watching the cheap fluorescents cast harsh shadows across the room. it was calming, in a way. though he'd tell anyone he wasn't the same person as the boy that hung around these streets, familiarity still had its claws in him.
but there was a change in the air. small, but deliberate. he doesn't turn to look, but he knows before he sees her. he's not sure exactly how. it was a list of things. the waft of her perfume. the sound of her footsteps. recognizable. they had history, but really all that it did to him now was send a chill down his spine. “yeah, seems i still have shit luck, so i'm thinking you're right.”
he sighed. a heavy, sinking thing that was half laughter, half exhaustion. “so what's the deal, angel? come all the way down here just to make small talk?” he knew it wasn't. milo gave a smile, but it was like biting on tinfoil.
cassie wasn’t sure how she got there, specifically. like, in a broad sense, she knew. feet, movement, doors, time, blah blah. but right here, right now? that was fuzzier. she had been somewhere else, and then the music changed, or maybe her body just decided it wanted to be elsewhere. was she in deseo? she might've been in deseo. her mind had probably been craving wings. but not now. now she was blinking slow and heavy at the man who just ordered whiskey neat, swaying slightly. "whoooa," she murmured, mostly to herself, because, okay, his whole vibe was just, like… intense. "you look like you’ve got sooo many thoughts," she mused, propping an elbow on the bar, chin on her hand, just staring at him. "like, a crazy amount. like, maybe too many." her head tilted, just slightly. "do you ever think about, like, not thinking?" a slow blink. "just, like… letting your brain be quiet for a sec? i think mine’s quiet right now. or maybe it’s really, really loud, but in, like, a cozy way." she giggled.
his head tilted to the side, prepared to be annoyed, but his gaze met hers and visibly softened. not in recognition, no, he'd never seen the girl before. but he'd seen the way the swayed. the way her words surfed a wave. in his maturity, he got soft. his eyes definitely did. “a water, too, please.” he called without looking away, a bit worried the stranger would fall from the stool. a clink sounded as he set his glass down, freeing his hand in case she actually did.
“i like thinking, usually gets me out of the tough spots.” he humored her, but a cast of concern has already drowned his face in a fluorescent light. milo scanned the crowd for a second, looking like a man who'd just been handed an infant. “you might need to slow down, hun, you're not gonna outlast the townies if you don't take a few breaks now and then, ya know? you alright? got anyone looking out for ya?”
exasperated, the redhead let out a scoff before she even bothered to look at him, rolling her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. "seriously? you're calling her 'doll'?" she echoed, voice dripping with sarcasm as she finally turned to face him, arms crossing over her chest. "what, did you take a wrong turn on the way to whatever decade you think we're living in? try ordering like a normal human being next time, preferably without the casual sexism." there was a sharpness to her words, but beneath it, something else—maybe mild amusement, maybe the simple fact that she’d had enough whiskey herself to find some entertainment in calling men out on their bullshit. either way, she didn’t immediately turn away, instead letting her gaze linger on him, sizing him up with the kind of scrutiny that was equal parts judgmental and intrigued. "unless, of course, you're just doing the whole cowboy nostalgia act on purpose, in which case—points for commitment, i guess."
but even with the irritation laced through her voice, there was no real bite behind it. instead, she leaned an elbow against the bar, tilting her head as she studied him more closely. something about him—his posture, the way his shoulders were wound tight, the way his fingers curled just a little too stiffly around his glass—felt off. it wasn’t the kind of unease that came from being in a bar that didn’t suit you; it was the kind that came from being in a place you recognized too well, from ghosts that settled heavy on your shoulders the second you stepped through the door. "you look like you just walked into the twilight zone," she observed, voice still laced with sarcasm but softer now, touched with something closer to curiosity. "what is it? bad day? or are you just naturally this haunted?" her lips quirked slightly, the smallest smirk forming, but her eyes stayed steady on him, watching, waiting.
she glanced at the whiskey in his glass—barely touched, looking almost as uncomfortable as he did sitting there. "if it’s the first one, i’d say you’re drinking too slow. if it’s the second…" she reached for her own drink, something clear and sharp that burned going down but at least did its job. lifting the glass slightly, she tilted it toward him in a mock toast. "you might need something a hell of a lot stronger."
milo exhaled from his nose, something akin to a laugh, as the bartender gave him a similar look that the stranger had as they exchanged glass and card. raising his hands in a sort of surrender, his fingers tapped against the glass, the liquid inside barely sloshing. milo rolled his shoulders back, trying to shake off whatever had its claws in him. he knew, but wasn't exactly aware, that he was sitting so tight that it looked like he had been bracing for impact. hell, maybe he was.
“yeah, well.” his accent stretched around the vowels, lazy but heavy enough to ground it. “might be both." he finally took a slow sip, a burn reminding him he was still in his own skin. he looked at her without turning his head, and something in him reacted when he realized she didn't look away. most people who recognized him didn’t want to linger too long. not unless they were looking for trouble. it occurred to him that she might be waiting for the same thing. for him to balk at the idea of being called out. “bad day, bad decade.”
he licked his lips and tapped his glass against the bar-top, considering his words. “didn't realize they called in the language police for the occasion, though.” the smile that found him was easy, calming. like prey showing their throat. showing he wasn't really a problem. still, he tilted his head and gave her a look, half a challenge. “what, you a regular? got some jurisdiction over how a man orders his drink?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀for a split second, mew thinks he's talking to her. the simple hey, doll catching in her ears and forcing her attention to fall onto him. only she was, in fact, the target of a conversation starter this time around. what a shame, but if he's not addressing her that doesn't mean she wouldn't back away. always the social butterfly, this one. seizing every opportunity she can to talk to just about anyone. it's what happens when you spend a majority of your time alone. hand comes up half way into the air, pulling the bartender's attention once he finished his order.
“ i'll take what he's having, ” flashing that sweet smile she's perfected before watchinng them walk off, gazing shift back to meet this side of his face, “ you know — this is going to be my first time drinking whiskey. you're not going to let me down, are you? ”
“well, i suppose not, then.” milo tilted his head, ignoring that a strand of his hair towards his nose and it smelled like old gel and desperation. the overgrown, slicked-back look wouldn't work long with the board. once they snuck a barber into a meeting, and that was a trip, so he'd have to cut it soon.
still, it helped him fit in a bit. there was a double blind happening. if he wasn't trying to hide that half the bikers in this town were obligated to pretend he's a streak of gum underneath boot, he was trying to hide that he now had more money than god and really no right to be here. “make it top shelf, if you will, ma'am.” he directed at the bartender before facing the person next to him. well, using a bit of that money wouldn't hurt.
a cursory glance around exposed skin didn't reveal any particularly offending ink, so he offered a smile. “emiliano. and forgive me for asking, but no bred and true texan makes it this far without a drop of the good stuff, so where you from?”
location: deseo status: open
he couldn't tell you why he was here. why he'd walked his happy little ass away from the comfort of the perfectly good bar back at the hotel. a whim pushed him out the door, but it was like an eastern wind had blown him like a leaf the rest of the way here. he had a meeting in the morning. he had just left a meeting when he remembered what today was. he was always in some fucking meeting or other and he felt like he actually very rarely met people. if the uber driver looked at him too hard it was because he might've looked like he was arguing with himself silently in the rearview.
most of the people that could've recognized him outright were at hell's gate anyways, but still, a few folks made it a point to fully shift their bodies away from the sight of him. shit-stains probably didn't follow a single club rule, but a gathering such as this was to a diablo like christmas was to a catholic. it's this day. you gotta be a good boy, dontcha?
“uh, hey, doll.” milo gave a nod as the barkeep approached him, fighting the urge to grimace. his accent came back with a vengeance when he was around this many natives, and the old jeans he stuffed himself into didn't help with the nostalgia. his shoulders were tense. lord, he had to relax. “whiskey, neat.”
the uncomfortable stools. the cheap fluorescents. the smell. he didn't feel entirely in his body. milo was floating above it like he had dropped acid. his head whipped around when he heard commotion, but saw it was only some locals greeting old friends. fuck, maybe not like he was high. he seemed like was running from something.
ALEX MERAZ via instagram
5x13
Mindhunter - 1x04/1x06
my immense self hatred VS my delusional god complex
ALEX MERAZ as Patty in The Last Son (2021)