this is seriously going to kill her. honest to god. swear to jehovah. hours into the debate and shayla’s nowhere near giving up her position. she’s totally------ “funding should go to the youth center,” she says matter-of-factly, “fuck nader. he’s an old-school, conservative-kissing asshole anyway. you remember when he tried to pass some homophobic bill two sessions ago? guy’s awful------don’t know how he keeps getting elected, ugh.” shay rolls her eyes where she’s lounged across the couch tucked into her closet-sized office, coffee cup of chardonnay in hand and eyes on her nails as she frowns at the dirt embedded beneath the manicure. gross. “forget his vote. what’s yours? scratch my back, i’ll scratch yours------” pauses. considers. glancing up, she tries for casual when she says, “depending on what bill you’re tabling next. i can swing you a neutral vote. if you get me my youth center.” @mvstiical
sitting across from him with an easy, secretive smile on his face— the boy is an open flame. his lithe fingers trail down the curve of his forearm, drawing out sparks wherever his wandering touch goes, and with a hunger for MORE pounding in his chest … jae reacts like gasoline; ready to consume and destroy all in one breath!❛ think you wanted more than just a smoke when you followed me out back. ❜ he cocks his head to the left, his voice taking on a suggestive and deceptively teasing tone, as he gauges the boy’s expression. shaded eyes gleaming over a now flattened smile. ❛ got more than you bargained for? or did you get exactly what you wanted tonight ? ❜
the tension between them is ELECTRIFYING; a perfect blend between attraction and aggression. and the fact that they alone share this murderous secret in a room full of people has jae feeling … euphoric. he’s hardly expected the boy to react this way, so nonchalant in the way he talks about what he’s just seen ( as if he had merely walked in on something much less HORRIFIC and more mundane than a murder ), and he can’t help but admit that he’s beginning to love the way the boy looks at him. like he’s just seen god in the way he’s killed a man. ❛ what is it that they say about the devil? ❜ he chuckles dryly, the same coy smile on his lips as he watches him through hooded eyes, ❛ the master of disguise comes in many forms. ❜
siwon drags his fingers over sharp knuckles, “know me so well?” smiles like a jackknife, gleaming white and teasing. teeth with tact. eyes dark, siwon raises a brow and challenges, “tell me, then. tell me what i want.” the truth isn’t hard to parcel together. siwon knows when to play finesse and when to go for the throat, when to play and when to surrender. his eyes linger on those hands, those lips, and that taste of skin peeking over the hem of a shirt for a reason. lingering back with a half-step, siwon curls his hand around the cold, sweaty glass of a drink he’s only bought for appearances.
siwon breaks this boy down. sleepy eyes that strike, a pair of murderous hands. light shoulders and a confident tilt of the chin, angelic cheekbones curving for a wicked smile. parts and parts and parts. none of it should fit together and yet------ “is that who you are, then? sin, incarnate?” siwon grins at the joke, buzzed enough off something other than alchol that the cheese doesn’t annoy him. wrapped in a silk shirt and glittering jewelry, he sweats for the gods in this ritzy nightclub. at his back, the VIP wing waits with a black-clad bodyguard, and he feels all those eyes on him as his stands a little straighterr as he takes the bait with nothing but a soft smile and a toss of his hair. “guess i better get on my knees, pray a little.” drinks. drains the glass dry. “tell me, devil. is that what i want?” walking towards another murder or a thrill------he’ll wait and see. maybe it won’t be so bad, death with those hands wrapped around his neck.
With murders left and right, Alexandra had to keep herself busy or else she’d spiral thinking about how much danger everyone could be in. Her loyalty first and foremost was to the lotharios ( she had to keep telling herself that, they were the family that supported hers after all ) and they gave her everything. But in times like this, she couldn’t help but feel terrible for Nat. She was her friend, how couldn’t Alex have done something? For a spy, she really only knew what others told her. She felt worried about Leo, who seemed to grow even more reckless in times of danger. In an ideal world, all the families would be safe, but she knew the way this would go. Too engrossed in her thoughts to realize the person walking towards her, a flash of a second later had her apologizing to the other. “Sorry it’s just one of those days,” She shook her head, looking at the spilled coffee. “That’s gonna be a pain to clean, please let me help you with that - “
“what the fuc-rick!” shayla stands, coffee stains already blooming on her white satin blouse and seeping into her skin. frantic, she pulls the shirt off where it sticks to her belly and bra, but isn’t fast enough to stop the shock. ( hell------she’s barely able to stop the curse word from slipping past her lips and winding up spread across the front page of some shitty local newspaper or a twitter account ) phone in hand and call still going, shayla snaps her head up and grimaces, "are you kidding me right now. are you serious. oh my god.” constituent call after constituent call, meeting after meeting and NOW she’s got to go home and fucking CHANGE because some DIPSHIT--------- shayla cuts herself off. focuses on the breathing techniques her yoga instructor recommended. in through the nose, out through the mouth. ( it’s not working. ) through tightly-pressed lips, she closes her eyes and edges out, “where are the napkins.”
there’s something WRONG with him — something absent in the curl of his smile. his lips drawn into a grin that looks misplaced on him; too sinister and barbaric for the softness in his features. and there’s an emptiness that fills his chest, flooding his body with a shuddering DARKNESS, pumping that black, sinful, evil in his veins. half-cast in the shade of the alleyway, he begins to feel like the fucking devil ! onyx eyes reflecting nothing and yet knowing everything. he’s well aware that he’s being watched, feeling that familiar gaze upon his back again as he performs the last rites, but he carries on anyway. thrilled to have an audience to bear witness to these crimes.
the lights change with the song. violets and blues, soft on the face and a lean, promising body. but eyes ------ they stay flat and black, and this boy’s stare glitters in the hazy darkness with a secret the two share and a little more. he wears danger like a favorite jacket. with that mockery of a grin twisting those full lips, he knows it, too. taking a sip of his drink, siwon thinks that a boy like this could get him into a lot of trouble. yet he runs full speed into the flashing lights with a slow, pure smile, licking the alcohol from his lips.
“a favor? i just wanted a smoke.” siwon says, coy innocence that’s anything but. the music's loud and he speaks low, a grumble from the chest that clashes with the high, frantic beats shaking the air around them. “professional like yourself ------” leans closer, close enough for the boy to smell the goddamn cologne on siwon's skin, “should know to get paid first. demanding it after?” siwon shakes his head and clicks his tongue as he draws back, “tacky.”
siwon thinks about the gun they're hiding, maybe even wearing. the breath in his lungs gets lighter and he makes the choice not to look away. a silver earring dangles from one ear, falling beneath fluffy, overgrown dark waves that curl underneath his ear when he tilts his head. “you said you were just a shadow?" siwon touches the boy's arm, runs a broad, soft palm over the curve of an elbow, down to the hand that held a gun to a man's temple just a few moments before. their skin's hot. scorching like the thick humidity outside those doors. siwon feels a roughness there, hardness from training, gripping metal, or shitty skincare. most of all ------ feels power. siwon lifts his eyes, “feels human to me.”
“Our. Our people.” Shelicks her lips and her tired eyes fall on Shayla’s visage as she leans backinto her stool. Valentina respects Shayla. She’s always admired a strong womanin charge and if the game is played correctly, there was still so much for theother woman to conquer in a city like Victory. However, there’s some softnessin her companion that Valentina feels the need to scrape off. “I’m telling youI have nothing.” She nods her acknowledgment of Shayla’s words. The woman isn’twrong but there is truly nothing she can do to mend the situation at thismoment. “You know what doesn’t look good for polls? Officials who don’t lookcertain. Even if I have nothing or if you have nothing, you can’t show themthat face. Fake it until you make it. The family swore someone in. This mayorhas proven to be efficient and reliable, as stable as Mr. Higgings. And withevery positive thing you have to say as filler for our new mayor, you saysomething even more positive about Johnathan. He was the staple, the founder,the one who made this all possible. This new mayor will not only have toughshoes to fill but will fill them with pride. You see, take the focus awayfrom the murder and the unfortunate event that followed and give the peoplesomething to look forward to. From a crisis comes perseverance and Victory hasproven they can always persevere. Be the pertinacious woman I know you are.”She stared into her eyes. “And never doubt my word.”
our people. right. red lips press together disapprovingly as she moves on. “fake it till you make it won't win elections,” she replies bitterly. not among the people in her district ------ so used to the action of the amari family name, so used to results. shayla's had to move heaven and hell just to keep up appearances in that godawful faux leather seat. combing through her hair, she sits back in her seat. straightens. breathes. this isn't the end of the world. “they won't like it. the girl was loved. pretty and young --- the right kind of face for the front page and an insta post.” she can't talk about johnathan or the new mayor. ass kissing for someone green in a seat ripe on the heels of a tragedy. it's too transparent. the calls and tweets will only get worse. “i don't doubt your word, val,” shayla says seriously. “it’s everyone else ... them, i’ll doubt until i’m proven otherwise. same as everyone else in this city.” tapping her nails on the bartop, shayla thinks and thinks, flips through the rolodex in her mind before settling--- “there's a petition making rounds calling for a remodel of the community center. over in the old neighborhood. crime's gone up, people want somewhere safe for their kids to go after school.” that, she can sell. focus on the kids. don't neglect the violence but sell them something else. something better. something safe, a thing they can touch, see, and feel to make them feel safe. she looks at valentina, “i'll need some tax credits for the funding. if the mayor can be convinced to pull some strings on their end, it'll look good for them, too.”
flashes of GOLD and crimson scatter across the room— the tails of tracing lights caught in the rising smoke of the club. glimpses of satin skin peek through the crowd and the open faced moans of strangers desperate for touch are deafened beneath the music. if he wasn’t on duty tonight, jae would surely be enjoying himself, loving the velveteen dream he’s somehow found himself in! but with the weight of his gun pressing deeper into his chest, an unforgiving reminder of the promise he’s made, jae tears his gaze from the boy across the room— knowing full well that he still has his attention when he slips deeper into the darkness. though he’s intrigued ( and god knows all too eager to RUIN the pretty smile on his face ), jae’s a firm believer in work before play. and he can’t help but feel properly motivated to finish the job when he catches his latest target in the alleyway outside; a growing smile splitting across his face as the man turns to face him, the freshly lit cigarette limply danging between his lips.
❛ i assume you know why i’m here. ❜ jae murmurs as he closes the distance between them with slow and deliberate steps— the glint in his eyes unmistakable in the twisting shadows. the man’s face visibly blanches, his words caught in the cotton of his throat, as he takes a few steps backwards. his back hits the wall, the unexpected force shaking loose whatever excuses he’s got stuck in between gritted teeth, ❛ no, please! you’ve gotten this all mixed up. i swear, i SWEAR i didn’t say anything to the police about anyone. anything! ❜ when the informant sees that jae isn’t buying it, he changes his tune, suddenly hysterical, ❛ just let me go, man. i’ll just disappear. i’ll fucking leave right now and the bianchis will never be the wiser. please. ❜ youngjae cocks his head, pretending to consider the plea, before allowing his smile to flatten— soft features turning into stone as he sucker-punches the man, watching almost in glee as he clumsily tumbles onto the floor. ❛ i think it’s you who’s got it mixed up… ❜ jae says before stepping on the man’s hand, digging deep enough to illicit a yelp, ❛ i’m not doing this because i’m being paid to. i’m doing this because i want to. ❜
that stare hits harder than the black lights and siwon feels the weight of it like a punch to the gut. feels like a revival, a motherfucking awakening. siwon knows he's been caught looking but he can't bring himself to care ------ shameless as he stares, watching the boy turn his back and disappear in the shadows. siwon makes it an invitation and stands, “i’m going out for a smoke.” cigarette butts and blunts lie in the ashtray on the table, most of them his to get through the night, but he steps past the ropes anyway to brave the sweating bodies and wandering hands. all to chase a curious boy.
“ ------- just let me go, man ------- ” a body on the ground’s not what he expects when siwon shoulders open the back door of the club. it’s better. the alleyway's ripe with half-rotten trash and salty sea air but siwon knows he’s stumbled on something biblical. night swallows them up, a blade of the orange from a distant streetlight illuminates one body. broad and confident, wide with command. movement reveals another, shaking and desperate against the grime. the door closes softly behind him and two bodies in the alley become three, siwon still holding a goddamn lighter between two fingers and a cigarette tucked behind an ear. stay, stay, stay--- rooted, eyes as bright as the glint of the gun under the moon. there’s a body lying not ten feet from him and siwon leans against the wall and flicks a wheel, lights up and gets ready for a show.
either he or the boy look like salvation because siwon hears a final “please” before the final, quiet pop. the club’s bass is thundering, night thriving in the street just outside. there’s nothing climactic about a soul leaving a body in this shithouse but siwon feels it all the same, eyes captured on the spot where a fist goes slack and all that fight leaves in a single, final breath. the moment’s over as soon as it’s begun, but siwon’s feeling a lightness in his chest. the feeling after a good fuck, the feeling of slowing down after driving too fast. short but satisfying. reverb of a better pleasure. aftershocks wired. his eyes go from the slack, open grip to the one holding the gun and siwon just------ smiles. enjoyed the show, babe. siwon drops the still-glowing cigarette to the ground and heads back inside for the bar. like nothing’s even happened. not even a word.
“ ------didn’t think anyone could make a weapon look pretty,” siwon mentions when they find each other again. here or there, it doesn’t matter. the timing’s right and he’s not going to hide that he saw, not from them. finger drawing loose, lazy circles around the rim of a glass, he levels a look at the boy. a brow quirks. “but you’re all that and more, aren’t you? pretty.”
She’s listening, she truly is. Valentina’s gaze however, remains on the amber liquid in her glass. Shayla’s concerns come as no surprise to her. She expected this, expected worse. But then again, the worse is probably still to come and while that isn’t comforting in the least bit, what’s done is done. “Tell them you don’t have answers.” She finally responded dryly and took a sip of her scotch. “It’s the truth. You don’t have to worry about purgery. They cannot expect you to know everything just hours after the fact. once I have a clearer statement for you, I’ll pass it along. And if you want me to take care of the ones after your wife, trust that I can.” She has many in her pocket. A reporter or two is a walk in the park. She smirks and looks over to Shayla “Do you believe we are responsible for this? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“your people own this city, and you’re telling me you have nothing.” it’s not a question. an observation. an crappy one. lips tight, teeth set. swearing under her breath, shayla shakes her head and looks at the bartender’s back as they walk away. “it’s 2019, valentina. people do want answers hours after the fact. hell, they want a tweet minutes after finding it themselves. everything’s instant. if it’s not, it’s late. and late doesn’t look good for polls.” elections are just around the corner. any wakness and they’ll start gunning for a replacement. shayla can’t lose her seat. “no. that’s not--- they’re fine. just assholes. the press always is.” she regrets opening her mouth. doesn’t want her hands dirtier than they are now. "i don’t know who’s responsible. and from the sound of it, you don’t know either unless you’re lying.” glass of sparkling water gripped so tight in her hand that her knuckles raise white, shayla eyes valentina. “i’m trusting you’re not.”
electronic music pulses through the leather seats and the vip section smells like cheap beer and ashes where siwon sits. a co-star prattles away at his ear, shares an old college story siwon’s only casually listening to while his eyes watch the dance floor. sweating bodies and wandering hands bleeding gold and red beneath the lights. a millennial bacchanal, greed and lust, all the good stuff. fingertips tease coyly against his thigh but it’s not the sweet thing next to him that’s caught his attention. the boy lingering past the thick velvet ropes and sea of people does. a pretty face ------ must be a reason they’re playing hide and seek in the shadows. siwon glances again, doesn’t hide the fact that he’s watching as he sips from a glass.
“Okay. I NEED a drink. Care to join me?” The youngest Bianchi huffed out as he collapsed into a nearby chair, “I was hooking up with this guy and his WIFE walked in. The fucker failed to mention that he was married…and to a woman…I’m just grateful I still have all my balls. Please don’t tell my Dad…”
siwon takes a slow drag of a cigarette and keeps his eyes away. doesn’t even look at tommy when they come to steal the bit of peace found in this place. the crowd inside’s thick, music loud and obnoxious. “ --------- and what about my face says i’m even remotely interested in what you and your dick’ve been up to?” voice cold and dry, crumbling out of his throat like ashes. when siwon isn’t liquor-logged, he’s gentler.
to say that rosalina was tired was a complete an utter understatement. the entire police station was working restlessly to find a killer they were almost certain was the bianchi leader. she had to separate herself from their thinking , not everything could be traced to any of the big families in victoria. she had to work with the body , the body of someone who she knew —- it was difficult it was both mentally and physically exhausting given the fact that it was unlike anything they had seen before. she had learned to the tell tale signs of gang violence , she could identify it from mile away. however , this was new. the detectives swore it was a new method , something that would be used by them but untraceable , but that was where she crossed the line. she sat in the chair of the restaurant , holding a steaming mug of coffee as she stared aimlessly thinking back to the scene of the crime. mind riddled with different speculations until she noticed how red her hands were. she lowered the mug rubbing her hands together to get red of the burning sensation.
shayla arches a perfectly the manicured brow. “enjoying your coffee?” the resturant’s busy for the hour, families and couples and singles poured over menus, drinks, and steaming plates as waiters bus to make them happy. soft-core music plays over speakers hidden in tacky, fake palm trees around the dining room floor. it’s not a place shayla normally finds herself in outside of campaign hours. dropping her purse in a spare seat at the table, shayla sits with a flourish, the flounces of her blouse bouncing and hair shining under the lights with the movement. “mind if i join?” she asks, delayed. she doesn’t care for the answer and that’s made clear in the way she’s reaching for a plastic menu across. “i made an appointment with your office for tomorrow, but i hope you’re not one of those who only talk work at work.” shayla flips the menu open and eyes rosalina over the top, daring her to say otherwise.
She trusted in Enrique’s word. It had never failed her before and she was sure that wouldn’t change now. Even with the mess they were all trying to sweep under a rug, Valentina was convinced this new mayor was not only what the family needed but what the town needed. Soon, the Higgings’ family disaster would be forgotten. Or she hoped. needed it to. The alliance would falter if people started to point fingers. Pulled from her thoughts, she looks over to the person beside her and nods before calling the bartender over. “It’s a long night. We both look like we need something stiff.”
“valentina------ do you have any idea of the load of shit my office is in right now? calls, hundreds of them.” she leans closer and spits, a harsh, hushed whisper, “the press were at my house again this morning. they followed my wife. ------ i can’t keep delaying a press conference. people want answers. voters want answers.” five dead bodies. one, a goddamn higgins. what the fuck. the bartender arrives with foggy glasses in hand and shayla presses her lips together, lipstick bleeding along the edges as she leans away. “can’t drink. i’m driving. the last thing i need right now is a DUI scandal, god------” a fake laugh, tight with nerves she refuses to hide from valentina romero. city hall was chaos.
❝ And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, ever since pursued me. ❞
◟ * ◊ — kim taehyung + agender / male + he/them » * hey did you know that siwon jeon resides in victoria?? the twenty - four year old is known for being around buena vista apartments. the actor has been living in victoria for two years. they do not believe that the bianchis are behind victoria’s murder. the people closest to them describe the pansexual + capricorn to be attentive and daring as well as deceitful and hubristic.
it’s ass o’clock in my timezone, but I will be around on mobile while at work if anyone would like to plot ( hit the heart or pop in my inbox )! Looking forward to writing with you all. I should be on tonight for all of you insomniacs / fellow gmters later. Love <3
⋆ ◦ * CHARACTER —— background.
Is there such a thing as loving a child too much? The Jeons would say no, of course not. For all they knew, Siwon’s birth was a blessing for an elderly, unlucky couple; a beautiful baby in their arms after years of trying so hard. But for all of the devotion Siwon’s parents gave, to Seoul and the rest of the world, they were nothing. It’s a strange transition; going from prince to pauper, and it as a transition Siwon’s never taken to very well. The world can be a cold place for a middle-class family, and Siwon did not appreciate being ignored. Careful steps started Siwon down a path of stars and adoration. First, with an orchestra where they performed symphony after symphony. Then, with their face, pretty and youthful that caught a lucky talent scout’s eye. And finally, with their command of a camera and the way they moved a country to tears. They became a star easily. A fresh face who’s schedule spilled over the margins, but it still wasn’t enough to have them on their knees. Siwon looked to the west and saw more, saw yet another kingdom to conquer. After finding Los Angeles and New York City too crowded for their taste, Siwon moved to Victoria and has easily found a place in the budding talent industry. Today, it’s a soap opera that’s become a viral success and a theater stage with a promising future. What will it be tomorrow?
⋆ ◦ * ZODIAC SIGN —— capricorn.
❝ Capricorn is a sign that represents time and responsibility, and its representatives are traditional and often very serious by nature. These individuals possess an inner state of independence that enables significant progress both in their personal and professional lives. They are masters of self-control and have the ability to lead the way, make solid and realistic plans, and manage many people who work for them at any time. They will learn from their mistakes and get to the top based solely on their experience and expertise. ❞ ( x )
❝ Architects accept and work with inconsistencies that make perfect sense to them – at least from a purely rational standpoint. For example, Architects can be both the most positive dreamers and the bitterest pessimists at the same time. On the positive side, these personalities believe nothing is impossible with enough effort, intellect, and thought. But there is usually another side to most beliefs. On the negative side, they might also believe that people are usually too lazy, unimaginative, or selfish to reach hard goals – but this idea won’t put them off chasing their own. ❞ ( x )
❝ A neutral evil villain does whatever she can get away with. She is out for herself, pure and simple. She sheds no tears for those she kills, whether for profit, sport, or convenience. She has no love of order and holds no illusion that following laws, traditions, or codes would make her any better or more noble. On the other hand, she doesn't have the restless nature or love of conflict that a chaotic evil villain has. ❞ ( x )
⋆ ◦ * CHARACTER —— miscellaneous.
Hobbies: long naps. watching the sunset. popping up in page six. movies at home. spa days. sculpting. cleaning their apartment. video games. cooking. trolling social media. rehearsing lines. taking acting classes. playing the piano. reading.
Personal style: effortless. sophisticated. a mix of masculine and feminine silhouettes, colors, and styles. likes skinny or fitted jeans and oversized blouses. loves layers. adores tacky, kitschy things they’ll find at mom n’ pop shops or at the thrift store. will wear a blazer or cardigan with anything. a sunglasses hoe. earrings and skinny bracelets. beanies and hats. sneakers and loafers.
Occupations: actor.
⋆ ◦ * WANTED —— arcs.
— Siwon is on the fringes of the Alliance’s circle. The only connections he knows of are his drug dealers ------ and then he only suspects, doesn’t know for certain. He’s new to the city, still learning just how much the Alliance has it’s claws in the institutions. Even then, his information’s secondhand, thanks to a few who’ve let things slip when they’re together. He’s intrigued. There’s a hunger he feels, a hunger to know and to get involved. Wants more than a life on the silver screen but hasn’t figured a way in. He will soon. That, he’s certain of.
— A self-centered glutton needs as many friends as anyone else. Siwon’s surrounded himself with flatterers who need an in to the circles he’s attached to, and to the realists who keep him grounded. Sure, he’d stab in the back any chance he could get, but there’s one or two best friends that he loves almost as much as he loves himself. As he seeks to sink his teeth into the true grit and power this city promises, who else will fall into his wings ------ and who will fall out?
— There’s those who see right through him. Past the smiles, the interviews, the quiet nights spent at premiers and openings and know him for the serpent he is. There’s not many, he’s a careful actor, after all, and whether they like the danger he wants and sees the promise is up for question. Siwon could prove to be a powerful ally or a devastating cost, who will be the first to see that?
— As superficial as he seems, Siwon loves love. Wants to possess, wants to be the center of someone’s entire world. It’s unhealthy, addicting, and hard as fuck. So far, he’s settled for a few one night stands who’s passions run out as soon as they grow bored with one another. In public, he’s attached to someone who’s career benefits from the stunt just as much as his does. How much longer will he be satisfied with this half-ass foolishness?
❝ There’s something to be said for hunger:
at least it lets you know you’re still alive. ❞
◟ * ◊ — summer bishil + cis female + she/her » * believe it or not shayla amari is working for the lothario family. they are thirty - four years of age and are known to usually spend their time around victoria court. the city councilor, who has been a part of the alliance for three years, has been living in victoria for thirty years. the people closest to them describe the lesbian + sagittarius to be headstrong and generous as well as temperamental and heedless.
⋆ ◦ * CHARACTER —— background.
Shayla’s spent her entire life in her mother shadow reaching for the sun. A fierce defender of the voiceless, Shayla’s mother was one of the earliest outspoken critics of Victoria’s powerful elite, an activist waving a flag in the middle of a war. Living was dangerous then, but Shayla was told it as all worth it. And maybe she didn’t understand it then, didn’t appreciate the full gravity of what her mother was sacrificing. In the moment, all she knew was they walked looking over their shoulders and that she could never go anywhere after dark. Growing up, Shayla was a constant disappointment, giving her mother all the trouble she experienced in her youth. Parties. Girls. Bad grades. Skipping class and blowing curfew. Teenage rebellion didn’t leave her even when she left the teen years behind ------ but it did bite her in the ass when she wanted to go to college. Trying to grow up with a shabby starting point as rough, but she did it. Community college degree; a decent job that paid just enough to cover student loans and a shitty apartment. Her mother didn’t offer to help. Shayla didn’t bother asking. Just like always, she could do just fine on her own. A few years and some very choice decisions with her finances, though, left her in a tight bind. Debtors breathing down her neck and a credit score shot to shit. The Alliance sniffed out her desperation like sharks to blood and offered her a proposition. Days from losing her house and living on the street, Shayla agreed. Building a campaign on the back of her deceased mother’s name with Alliance money, Shayla ran for city council and won a seat. Has been keeping it warm for the Alliance for years. Watching the deck stack against her, Shayla can’t help but wonder --- when will it all come falling down?
⋆ ◦ * ZODIAC SIGN —— sagittarius.
❝ It's no surprise that Jupiter, the planet of abundance, spirituality, and growth, governs Sagittarius. With so many journeys under their belt, Sagittarians are excellent storytellers and can light up any room with their exhilarating tales and infectious laughter. Effortlessly magnetic, Sags easily attract friends and lovers with their senses of humor. They're the comedians of the zodiac and infuse all of their conversations with wit and "no bullshit" bluntness. While their bon mots are unmatched, Sags must remember to keep their sharp tongues in check. Though they know a lot, they don’t know everything — and if they're not careful, they can come off as pretentious or arrogant. ❞ ( x )
❝ ESTPs are outgoing, straight-shooting types. Enthusiastic and excitable, ESTPs are “doers” who live in the world of action. Blunt, straight-forward risk-takers, they are willing to plunge right into things and get their hands dirty. They live in the here-and-now, and place little importance on introspection or theory. The look at the facts of a situation, quickly decide what should be done, execute the action, and move on to the next thing. ❞ ( x )
❝ A chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. He makes his own way, but he’s kind and benevolent. He believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations. He hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do. He follows his own moral compass, which, although good, may not agree with that of society. ❞ ( x )
⋆ ◦ * CHARACTER —— miscellaneous.
Hobbies: maxing out credit cards. shopping. morning jogs in the park. gardening in the office. imagining world domination. pinterest-ing. facebook stalking the competition. kickboxing class. gambling. being bitter about the alliance.
Personal style: button-down blouses. tailored slacks. smooth skirts. heels higher than heaven. bangles, earrings, and necklaces. loves all colors --- neutrals and jewel tones. inspired a lot by european fashion. strives for a simple, “tasteful,” and expensive aesthetic, but also loves to shine under the florida sun. hardly wears the same thing twice. adores scarves.
Occupations: city councilwoman.
⋆ ◦ * WANTED —— arcs.
— After three years, you’d expect for her hatred of the Alliance to temper. No. It’s grown. Festered like an open wound. Some sense her disdain, watch her closely. She’s never held her tongue before, why would she now? Others understand, the one or two loyal faces she’s spoken openly --- dumbly? --- about this with. She’s tired. Tired of the violence and tired of the havoc. One day, she’ll see this all crumble. One day, she’ll stand atop the rubble victorious.
— Friends. Faces. Ones who remind her there’s more to life than lying and stealing and twisting and thieving. Whether they’re shopping pals, brunch buddies, or event goers, Shayla’s thrilled to see their faces and they never talk about the Alliance, even if they’re apart of it. If Shayla hasn’t explicitly told them she’s indebted to the Alliance, they’d never guess. She tends to keep it this way.
— She’s married. Unhappily so. Whether they began as a happy couple or not is nothing but a memory. Three years of secrecy would do this to any foundation. A new face attracts Shayla’s attention and makes her question her vows ------ but for now, imagining’s better than anything. There’s also a string of ex-lovers of all genders in her past, twisted in relationships that’ve crumbled to hatred or latched on indifference.
— Shayla’s lived in Victoria all her life. She has neighbors, childhood friends, high school enemies, and even more, people who knew her mother. It’s this latter she has an issue with the kind who reminder her just how far she’s fallen, how weak she is when compared with the matriarch of the Amari family. Someone may even be supsicious of the once-deadbeat daughter commanding political office. Shayla hopes they don’t go digging.
