“I read this shit about bioluminescent slugs, the other day. Call them sea angels, ‘cause they’re fucking... guess it looks like wings, the shit they use to swim. Polar regions, tropical seas. Doesn’t matter, the cunts are everywhere. They glow. Especially at deeper sea levels. The closer to the pit of the earth, really deep inside it’s asshole, the brighter they look. Like tiny, shrivelled lanterns,” Bradley surmised, tip of her mint green switchblade whittling at a tree. They were perched on the back of a pick-up truck in the woods as they had many of times before, her and Maria, guys that’d kept them company disappeared to fetch more beers. It wasn’t clear what Bradley was carving, only that she’d moved onto a second X besides the first. “I mean, that’s fucking bullshit, right? Sea angels. It’s literally a slug that glows. Get a fucking grip. If you got that shit on your tit, you’d flick it off like a bit of old food in the sink. Everyone’s always dressing things up as beautiful when they’re... It’s tragic. Next thing you know, a hawk snatching a baby from it’s pram and fucking... flapping off with it, ready to peck it to death, people will call that Cupid. Look, there’s a chubby, flying baby. Say he’s about to make people fall in love. Start gushing that it’s so romantic.” Somewhere into her rant, she’d slashed a jagged smile. A Nirvana logo, without the round face to finish. Only features. Two scratched eyes and a twisted mouth. Bradley leaned back, finally trading Maria a glance from behind a stolen pair of sunglasses -- not particularly her style, but dark enough that they partly hid a nasty bruise. Sun trickling beneath the skyline, she showed no signs of removing them. “You ever had anything like that? Something just... fucking... ugly, rancid as a dead rat, that people make romantic?” @lovegces
Jittering like a fork shoved in a plug socket, it was the third time in little under a month that Bradley had been thrown out of Salvatore’s Steakhouse. This instance transpired like some kind of extravagant liberation plot where activists free lobsters from tanks before they’re boiled, except the raw steaks in the kitchens were definitely anything but alive. Still, that hadn’t stopped Bradley from slinking into the back, grabbing the raw meat and hurling it against a latched window, shouting something along the lines of “get out of here, Otis, get back to the fucking barnyard!” as staff scrambled to protect their wares. It wasn’t even clear how she’d got in -- they’d been warned that week to look out for her, always prone to stirring trouble. In Bradley’s eyes, the steakhouse was her arcade machine. Every customer a pinball. Her boots scuffed gravel as she burst through the doors, laugh in her throat barbed as a ball of wire. “And stay out, Bradley. I mean it. You could get me fired,” a voice urged behind her, to which she scoffed and wafted a hand, already in the process of producing a cigarette. “Fucking relax, Dave. Christ. So sue me for a bit of animal activism. Guess compassion’s a faux pas in this armpit town.” Met with nothing but a steely glare, a subsequent slam told her the door had shut. She only noticed Luca had been a witness to the commotion from the car park as she cupped a wavering flame, sucking a first drag. “Bit fucked, don’t you think?” Smoke came with it. Pupils darted his face, never settling. “Got thrown out for choking on a peanut. I mean, so I coughed it into a twelve year old’s eye? Who gives a shit? I almost died,” she lied plainly, cigarette plucked so she could gesture at the place. “Didn’t even get a chance to eat my steak. Even brought my special bib. Dropped it in there. Now I’m practically fucking naked without it, shivering like an abandoned baby at a fire station. Starving. World’s fucked up.” @lvcachambers
Bradley stood in the fruit and veg aisle of Green Market for six minutes flat, hands in the pockets of a stolen jacket that came down to her knees, rhythmically palming a closed switchblade as she stared down a plump watermelon. There was an urge to pull her fists into the air and stick the blade down so violently that her shoulders dislocated like Barbie doll limbs, as there always tended to be, she’d come to realise, with whole things. Bradley couldn’t stand seamless. It felt smug, boastful. Lemon in a cut that wouldn’t heal. She hated yellow tulips the same, though not quite -- inherited from her mother, who’d always insisted they were full of it, grinning with all of their teeth and laughing at the world’s dull failures. When she put it into her cart, it was with a particularly reckless hurl, entire foundation shuddering upon impact. Almost as if she wouldn’t mind to see it split, bleed guts right down to the wheels. There were already two inside, along with a bottle of vodka and a singing toothbrush themed like Frozen’s Olaf -- the latter earned her a few odd glances as she rattled to pay, every other customer blissfully unaware that she intended to use it to scrub bleach on a man’s gums that’d pissed off her father. Not that she wanted to. Not that it mattered. “How do you want to pay for this, darlin’?” Face immediately the equivalent of a sour lemon, Bradley muttered a “Christ” under her breath before realising, promptly, that she hadn’t remembered to bring any cash. No card, either. In fact, the only items on her person were a switchblade, a flask and cigarettes. Giving way to a crisp exhale, blue eyes might as well have been a beaker of hydrochloric acid, stopper popped and ardently guzzled, when they caught Ducky at the next register. I can feel it in my throat when you look at me. How the fuck d’you do that? “He’s got it,” she announced with confidence, corners of her lips just barely twitching, her amusement like a moth giving into a glue trap. Her gaze remained fixed, unrelenting as an angry dog’s bite. A threat, in a way. Like he only had to resist before she thought to draw blood. “We go way back. Right, Goosey?” @duckyfm
saunters onto the dash pistol holstered at my waist n spurs on my boots clinking.... i tip my cowboy hat..... hlo! i wna dive right into the heart of things n get some threads going so like this if u wld like a closed starter frm an unhinged little goblin aka bradford pear 🍐🔪 if u have more than one chara feel free to specify below who u would like it for n if we haven’t plotted yet i’ll trot into ur IMs n we can cook smthn up!!
“it’s kind of funny to see movies and television shows make working at a small town coffee shop look so glamorous— i mean luke from gilmore girls seemed to enjoy himself.” jo had taken an early lunch break after a very unruly customer made some low blows during her shift at the coffee shop. a newly lit cigarette sitting between her fingers as she spoke; a habit she had picked up at the end of her senior year for when she got particularly stressed. “what they don’t tell you is when customers spill your dirty laundry to everyone in the café just because of a mixed coffee order.” she took a small hit before leaning back on the bench. “i now, officially, have no faith left in humanity.”
As Jolene drawled on, Bradley imagined a zip tugged down her spine, insects of all kinds invited to skitter inside of her meat suit, make lunches out of inevitably shrivelled organs with fine, unrelenting teeth. It was more interesting, that hypothetical snap of a hungry jaw, the corresponding twinges of nerves on fire, than the actual topic -- something about Gilmore Girls, enough to summon a faint wrinkle of the nose -- and she’d never claimed to be polite, never made herself out as the type of person who actively tries to listen if she hasn’t been snared by the bait at the first plop beneath the water. Her lighter sputtered like a dog trying to run on two legs. Small progress, not enough. Pathetic, her father observed, once, averting his gaze from the mutt down the street like it ought to be put to sleep at the closest pound for trying at all. Eyes narrowed slightly, Bradley tossed her spent lighter down somewhere midst the release of Jolene’s last sentence, dark hair framing her face like a snarl of nasty brambles -- like it’d nick your fingertips, have you sucking blood as you dripped mess over the sink, to touch her at all. “Heartbreaking. Really moved me. Almost went incontinent, shat in distress on the sidewalk.” Regardless, she moved to take a seat on the bench besides her, deliberately severing a buttercup from it’s stem with her boot as it sprung from a crack in cement on the way. Only after staring out for a moment did she jilt her chin, unlit cigarette drooped between her lips like a flower starved of sunlight, withered as the contents of a funeral casket two weeks buried. “You gonna make me outstretch my cupped hands like Oliver fucking Twist? Please, sir, can I have some fire? Christ.” Partially shaved of malice -- if the grit in her voice were an overflowing pint glass, she’d only have skimmed the foam off the top of the beer, left it a resolute, glowing amber -- she did what was Bradley’s equivalent of attempting polite. Opting not to maul someone alive but, instead, to look them in the eye as if this entertained her, somehow. As if she was entertained, particularly, by anything that didn’t risk a flatline. “Now I know how the cavemen felt before they figured out sticks.”
HLO slinks in thru a bead curtain.......... truly sry this took me so long to concoct bt i’m here now, hand on hip, smiling coyly at u all...... i’m nai n i’m rly excited to b here so i’ll just dive right in!! u can find bradley’s pinterest board here n her muse tag here. like this or hmu for plots!
[ cis female, she/her, margaret qualley , twenty-four ] i can’t be sure, but i think i just saw BRADLEY MILLIGAN drive onto the parkway. don’t they know we’re not supposed to be driving on that haunted road right now? maybe it has to do with the fact that they’re so +RESILIENT and -VOLATILE that makes them feel UNPHASED about everything going on. i guess we could also chalk it up to the fact that they’re always reminding me of LEMON IN A FRESH CUT, THE AMBER BLINK OF AN ANGRY ALLEY CAT, GRINNING WITH BLOOD ON YOUR TEETH. either way, i hope they get back safely. [ nai, she/her, 24, gmt ]
aesthetics: singeing a hole in your fishnets with the cherry of a menthol, spitting a pistachio behind the bar just to hear it ping off the nozzle top bottles, lemon in a fresh cut, a war torn poppy standing alone in an empty field, pressing thumbs to yellow bruises, stomping over flowerbeds when there’s a path right besides it, dangling over ledges just to feel your chest jolt, a snarling rottweiler that needs muzzling, limp feet poking out behind a door, ‘I PROMISE I DON’T BITE’ scrawled on a name tag, slapping a bald head in front of you at the cinema like it’s a bongo, not owning a single jacket that isn’t stolen, driving a stranger’s car down the wrong lane against the screaming traffic, hair more feral than a wolf cub and eyes smudgier than a coal mine.
BACKGROUND:
ok SO. her father owns a strip club in crescent hill named no angels. it’s kind of.... a seedy establishment i won’t lie. hs a red glowing sign like it’s lighting up a window in amsterdam. cigarette butts floating in oil slick puddles outside. unsavoury characters crawling all over like rats in a sewer. despite this it’s a legitimate business on the surface of things n it does pretty well in trade. it’s like.... that place people warn u NOT to have ur bachelor party at unless u fancy urself the type tht willingly enters a lion’s den bt tht almost??? adds to the allure in a way??? ppl r like wow so sketchy it’s the thrill of a lifetime........ i mean run while u still can bt go off i guess
it isn’t Confirmed Public Knowledge bt it’s pretty heavily implied thru the rumour mill that bradley’s father is the head of a gang of rly............ Not Nice people. all the ppl that work for him u would hands down NOT want to run into in a dark alley. while things seem legitimate on the suface it’s pretty clear they’re into shady dealings n the townsfolk that suspect that would indeed b correct! the club’s a front for a drug business n they’re also washing n running counterfeit cash thru it. they probably also have their hands dipped into a few other local businesses to run their cash thru these too n keep it all seemingly by the books so nobody comes sniffing around. they even r friends with a member of local law enforcement that’s working w them for a cut so they honestly have all bases covered to keep things airtight n foolproof. perhaps a business in reed too which bradley oversees bt i haven’t given this Too Much thought as of yet??
so ya she’s grown up fairly local most of her life n would maybe be known around town as such.................. the milligans r certainly Interesting as far as families go so like. it honestly wldn’t surprise me if ppl nudge elbows when they see one of them coming n immediately walk in the opposite direction. just quite an intimidating presence...... they’re like caged animals where ur specifically instructed NOT to stick ur fingers between the bars bc they WILL bite
on a more personal note her dad is pretty much the worst human being alive n bradley hs like….. a lot of issues with herself as a result of years of toxicity n abuse
in terms of more family bkground info her mum’s name was alyssa n she vanished when bradley was 12. jst like…. into thin air. nothing. no note. zilch. gan! n when bradley asked her dad abt it his response was essentially “guess she didn’t love us enough to stay”. as bradley’s got older tho n become (without intention) more involved in the business side of things, it’s become pretty clear there was far more to the story.
(abuse tw) they had a horrible marriage n tony ws emotionally manipulative at the best of times, violent at worst, which didn’t help the fact tht alyssa ws struggling a lot w severe depression n rly just… not in the mindset to b dealing w anything else, even where motherhood ws concerned. bradley p much… would look after her a lot n they’d both b scared of her dad n it was just a whole unhealthy mess.
(death implied tw) anyway im rambling bt basically tony (bradley’s dad) gt wind of alyssa sleeping w men tht worked fr him n he just… got rid. bradley’s kind of worked out over the yrs tht her mum didn’t jst leave on her own accord n tht something must hav happened to her bt she’s too scared of her dad to ever directly accuse him
when her mum went all of her dad’s cruelty pretty mch got channelled straight onto her. it ws diluted between two before bt as u can probably imagine her upbringing was jst…. a steep downhill decline
(drugs implied tw) she learnt ways 2 deal w the incurring trauma bt they weren’t healthy ones at all! bsically jst. will do or take anything fr the distraction. chases a thrill like it’s the only way to remind her she’s alive. has absolutely no regard fr her own wellbeing n often gets other ppl in trouble too bc she’s so insatiably reckless
(hospitalisation tw) she hd….2 separate stints of psychiatric hospitalisation n she never tlks abt it. like ever. acknowledging she’s been vulnerable is her worst nightmare n bc of the way her dad raised her she always thinks any sign of struggling within herself is weakness. truly does…. not kno how to properly emotion
CUT TO!!!! the present. she’s currently living at the motel which is like. the least homely place she cld ever live rly but bradley loves making her life uncomfortable n doesn’t rly believe in growing sentimentally attached to anything if she cn help it <3 probably gets into arguments all the time w her neighbours it’s a whole thing.... atrocious at feeding herself has breakfasts frm the vending machine like her organs aren’t screaming fr vegetables.... plays music too loud n sometimes vanishes for days at a time without a word. she’s a lot.
i honestly feel like the murders haven’t rly phased bradley too hugely....... i won’t lie she probably genuinely is like. oh maybe it’s smthn to do w my dad. n just blinks the other way not rly that phased. on some subconscious level i think she rly just thinks........ death follows her wherever she goes n is like. this is just life for me! kind of depressing. holds her hand bt then screams n pulls away when she inevitably bites me.
PERSONALITY:
the kind of sour cherry only certain people have a taste for
once drank a bottle of whiskey, insisted she could still do a cartwheel and accidentally kicked an old man’s front tooth out in the process. proceeded 2 collapse into a flower bed and laugh so much abt it that she cried
barely takes anything seriously 50% of the time and is angry the other 50%
if she was a coffee she’d be black with five grains of sugar that you couldn’t taste until the last sip
(alcoholism tw) high functioning alcoholic. if u ever see her w a coffee cup u jst kno tht one sniff will confirm high alcohol percentage. honestly idk hw she does it her liver must b yellin
loyal to a point of fault. if she cares abt u (rare) and u murder a man in cold blood (not so rare in the broad scheme of bradley’s life) she’ll brawl anyone that says ur guilty
honestly wld probably fight a person over anything. sometimes she’ll jst be having a bad day n she’ll burst n take it out on whoever says the wrong thing. minefield!
has the worst luck in romance…. ever. ALL her past bfs hav been absolute beasts n as a result she has the ‘romance is dead n love is a lie’ mentality. definitely NOT a romantic. very cut n dry abt these things. sex is mostly just sex n she’d kind of scoff at anyone that wanted more from her
mostly wears stolen clothes from strangers and jackets that swamp her. huge chunky stomping boots with steel toe caps that would RLY bruise if they gave u a kick. hair is p much always a wild mess n she usually hs kind of smudgy/smoky makeup bcos apparently she’s allergic to combs and generally looking presentable… relatable content. the only time she rly looks put together is when she has to do something/go somewhere/see someone on behalf of her father....... he kind of uses her as a sort of. honey pot sometimes fr shit his gang get up to it’s like. not! a way u should ever utilise ur daughter but :/ i cannot stress enough how much i wna drop kick him in the neck
she’s v sarcastic. blunt. kind of has a habit of…. assessing a person n she’s quite perceptive bc she’s been trained to b by the way she always has to monitor her dad’s expression fr the slightest emotion change. she’s very confident n can p much mke a conversation out of whatever if she feels like it. independent too like she hs a bunch of (predominantly surface connection) friends bt she doesn’t care abt going out places alone n does this often. she’s probably kind of known around town bt itd b a 50/50 balance between bein known as intimidating n bein known as that one girl tht always gets into anarchy
likes: drunken snow angels that drag on so long they flirt with pneumonia, stealing cars, throwing watermelons off rooftops to watch them explode, shooting pedestrian’s with bb guns from hidden spots on rooftops.
dislikes: telling the truth, tulips so yellow it’s like they’re gloating, playing music loud enough to fry your brain and serve it on a piece of toast, going home.
PLOTS:
someone tht works at the ‘no angels’ strip club?? either as a dancer or bartender or whtever. just a forewarning it’s probably gna b a pretty….. seedy and Not That Pleasant environment bc it’s like. a crime hotspot inevitably bc it’s a gang hangout so. ur chara wld truly be in fr a rollercoaster ride to say the least
(drugs tw) she deals coke fr her dad’s gang so perhaps ur muse buys off her
anyone….. she’s brawled in the past like. she’s literally a menace i cnt express this enough. wil jst randomly throw a drink in someone’s face fr no reason bc she’s bored. she’s probably pissed off 1000 diff ppl in 1000 diff ways. the possibilities r endless n i jst think tht’s a sexy prospect!
fwbs perhaps??? exes??? (probably ws a tumultuous relationship honestly bradley is. a handful...... it’s also rly not often she ties herself down tbh so this would maybe have to b discussed/be circumstantial/kind of rare)
mayb someone tht she met at an aa meeting when she hd to go fr a court mandated thing one time after bein arrested fr public indecency. i feel like there’s probably a rly expensive statue somewhere thts fancily sculpted n she like. did a flying kick n broke the dick of it off n gt arrested fr it
ppl she……. Goes Wild Goes Crazy w. truly jst the most self destructive person alive so anyone w a similar mindset wld b a hellish bt fun combination
on the contrary a gd influence cld b nice perhaps? like someone tht genuinely cares abt her n she jst doesn’t kno hw to compute it
maybe people who r her neighbours that live at the motel too??
OH it could b fun if ur muse runs or works at a local business maybe like. a bar? idk? n bradley n ur muse have developed a rapport bc she frequents the place n is................ a Character
um. honestly the world’s our oyster. hmu n we cn brainstorm if none of tht catches ur eye!
i’d rather die than read up on something before i make uneducated comments about it so either his name was always scar or you break into my house and snap my fucking neck it’s your call
