Daisy Through Concrete

Wake up the dying Don't wake up the dead Change what you're saying Don't change what you saiddaisy through concrete

[daz-roth-blog]

tylerprince:

“Is that so?” Tyler mused with a genuine smile, continuing to run her fingers through Daz’s hair, brushing it from her face. “An ice-bath? Here.. baby steps.. I don’t think I want to be done for absolutely killing you off all together mate..” Tyler insisted with a small laugh. “Ice-baths are the worst..” She insisted. But as the other spoke, Tyler followed suit, moving closer when Daz did, inked hands continuing to massage her tightened muscles. The thought of any animal being hurt simply broke her heart.. hell.. she couldn’t even bare the thought of her little turtles being hungry or.. their water not being the right temperature. And she knew Daz was definitely in a similar situation. “Well..” She paused, leaning in slightly, pressing against the others leg to stretch out her muscle, slowly, make sure not to hurt her. “The little thing was very lucky you were around..” She insisted, not daring to make eye-contact upon giving the other such a comment. “Fuck him.. whatever you done to him he fucking well deserved it.” She promised. 

Daz was forever worrying about others. It was something that Tyler had always admired about the woman. “Of course mate.. I’m sure she has.. Beagles are gorgeous little things.. and from what you described, she was very loyal. I’d say she was picked up by some family.. a few kids.. she’s probably living the high life.” She insisted, continuing to massage her thigh. “Y’know.. probably has loads of warm blankets or toys and.. curls up the way your girl does..” She smiled, nodding to Princess. “Fair play to you standing up for her.” She insisted, leaning forward once more to stretch Daz’s leg yet continuing forward slightly to peck her lips. 

“I think it says it all in the name, Ty. Anyone who thinks an ice-bath is a good idea is fuckin’ mental.” Maybe it did something for muscles and then again maybe it caused hypothermia. Daz wasn’t all that pushed to actually find out. Though there was something rather appealing about the picture of Tyler potentially freezing herself, naturally it was more about the stripping down that intrigued Daz. Her eyes allowed themselves to be taken for a moment, watching Tyler work on her leg contentedly. This was why she’d considered her friendship with Tyler different, the fighter being one of the few people to treat her as softly as she did. When she went to work she was tested by a male-centric workforce and by whoever wanted to be the jerk trying to fuck with security. When she got home, she didn’t come home to anyone, no one seemed to understand her like Tyler did. So many expected her to as rough as her aesthetics, but her sharp jaw and furrowed brow had only ever housed a gentle heart longing to care. That wouldn’t be brought up to someone like Tyler, but it was there, every now and again, it would flutter and remind her that she was, in fact, human too. It made up for years of homelessness, the looks and comments leaving her feeling less than. 

“Nothing else I could have done, Tyler. Couldn’t just leave it.” For Daz it was that simple, even a dog deserved respect, or at the very least not to be hurt by the one person there to care for them. “I don’t get it, you know? I don’t get it, that there are other people out there who can stand by, they just stand and they watch and I know they have to feel bad but they never feel fuckin’ bad enough to do anything. It’s mad. It’s fucked.” She could feel the frustration building, not the red mist of rage, just the constriction that came with being entangled in a world that didn’t make sense to her. The peck to her lips served as the perfect distraction and she lingered for a moment before letting go of a breath she’d been holding. “How are your little guys? They gettin’ on alright?” The taller of the two asked keenly, brightening at the topic. There was very little grey in Daz’ life, just a picture of black and white instead. Good or bad, happiness or anger (sadness not really suiting her). The Brit snaked an arm around the fighter, a sly and yet entirely unsubtle attempt to keep her close. 

[daz-roth-blog]

lenniedix:

Lennon felt a dip in her stomach at the term of endearment. She usually didn’t care for them, but hearing them on the lips of another woman made them easier on her ears. “Thanks,” she said, a bit surprised at the kindness. The most she expected from another customer at this hour would be them tossing the sandwich her way before they moved onto the next aisle. Using the stranger’s hand, Lennon pulled herself back up before dusting herself off. “Who knew shopping could be so dangerous,” she said with a small chuckle. “I might end up more bruised than the produce.”

“It’s not a problem.” And it wasn’t. Daz was there to help other people. At times they hadn’t helped her, in fact, they’d gone as far to do wrong by her and she never wanted anyone to be in that position, not if she couldn’t help. It was part of what made working in security doable, the money was nice, but the idea that she was the difference between good and bad nights for people was responsibility she wore well. “Do you need walking home or anything? Don’t know if I can help with the bruising, but I am known for catching fallers.” Perhaps if she’d done better in school there would have been a sport for her, her hand-eye coordination impeccable, amazing considering her penchant for drinking. “I feel like I’ve seen you ‘round before, I think it’s the hair.” Unmissable really, Daz wondering why she had yet to introduce herself. “I’m Daz. Dunno if we go shakin’ hands again or not.” The Brit pondered, holding her hand out once more nevertheless.  

[daz-roth-blog]

ethanchambers:

He had noticed the dog before he bothered to take another step forward. However, its bark still startled him, piercing through the silence. If there wasn’t a bit of concern, Ethan would have found the entire situation to be amusing. Right down to the fact that the owner didn’t even flinch, and yet here he was. “I’m good.” Ethan shook his head. “Just thought I’d check to make sure you were okay.” He did manage a small smile, pointing to his own lips and nodding towards her. “You need a light?”

Daz narrowed her eyes on the unlit cigarette between her lips. “D’you know, I think I went and fell asleep looking for one. If you have a light floating around, I really would appreciate it.” The Brit moved one of her hands to let her fingertips rub tired eyelids before momentarily pinching the bridge of her nose. Half asleep and half home. “Don’t mind, little Princess here, wouldn’t hurt a fly unless I told her to.” Even then it’d be a stretch, the pair of them too soft for their own good. 

[daz-roth-blog]

Daz was sat snoozing in a bus shelter waiting on nothing, her Doberman sat with her head resting on her owner’s thigh, watching the world. She’d worked maybe thirteen or fourteen hours, trailing along after someone more important than herself. It hadn’t meant to go on that long, but that was the life she’d created for herself, jobs that weren’t exactly contractually obligated to be anything more than grind on her end and cash in hand. The security worker felt so bad that she’d left her dog waiting so long that she took her right out for a walk. It had been fine at first, a second wind pulling her along the pavement, but the last stretch had proved too much. 

She’d only meant to sit for a moment, to catch her breath and then they’d be home before they knew it. Instead, an unlit cigarette dangled from her lips, eyes closed, head resting back against the glass of the shelter. She could sleep anywhere, she’s done it before. Princess’ bark woke her. Others would probably jump, but Daz sluggishly opened one eye, blinking to combat the light that was offending all her senses. “What? What’s up, darling?” The Brit asked, a hand instinctively placed atop her dearest pet’s head, glancing up at the company that Princess had announced. “Alright? Need something?” 

[daz-roth-blog]

lenniedix:

After working in the kitchen all day, the last thing Lennon wanted to do was actually make herself dinner, especially if it required more than stabbing plastic with a fork and shoving it in a microwave. But after surveying her bare boned fridge, she’d come to the whine-inducing realization that she didn’t actually have anything to eat. Her grumbling stomach prompted Lennon into throwing on a sweater over her tanktop and sweatpants to run to the corner store before it closed. After deciding on a sure to be satisfactory dinner of a pre-made sandwich and a bag of chips, Lennon managed to trip. Over a can of vegetables, a misplaced toy, or most likely, air, she wasn’t sure, all she knew was that she landed ass first, right as someone turned the corner in her aisle, the sandwich sliding their way while the chips crunched under her feet. “Uh, would you mind sliding that back over?” she asked from the floor, hunger winning out in the battle between it and embarrassment. 

Daz was notorious for being the last customer out. She never meant for it to happen, her security work meant odd hours and odd hours meant not keeping up with food like she should have. Dinner meant snacks usually, cooking would only lead to a fire hazard and the last thing she needed was her rent being upped. She’d been wandering for a while but all she’d managed to find was dog treats for her Doberman, always thinking of Princess before herself. With the next aisle came a fallen beauty and her work ethic moved her before her conscious mind did. Daz scooped up the sandwich before hunkering down next to the woman and offering her a hand too. “Come on, darlin’. Let's get you off the ground, shall we?”

[daz-roth-blog]

mrgalenprice:

“Hey most people don’t, that’s what we’re here for. You’ve got one step above most in that you want to make it on your own, so I’m glad to help and maybe show you a few things. I’m sure it’ll feel like more of an accomplishment making it with your own two hands.” He nods in understanding. “One good thing about wood is we can find something sturdy and then stain it the dark color you want it to be.”

“Do you think? Do other people not want to make their own things?” Daz understood the worth in making something by hand, the satisfaction that came with it. The idea of just buying something did nothing for her, there was no real value to it. Of course it would do what it was made to do, but this dog house was for Princess and the idea that she’d have no hand in it was preposterous to her. “Stain it? Didn’t even think about that, I’ve got a feeling I could actually do with some help on this one.”

[daz-roth-blog]

tylerprince:

Tyler never intended on truly pushing the other. She really never had.. but she noticed.. when she did, Daz always matched it.. no matter how far Tyler ran, how fast.. she was always running behind, she’d catch up with some smart remark, play it off like it was nothing. Was it all an attempt to put Ty and her training to shame? Even if that was the case.. Tyler felt oldly proud.. and fucking right she adored the physic changes that came from Daz training with her. The other looked drop deap gorgeous.. not that Tyler could ever dare say such a thing. For the sake of both of their egos.

“I mean you’re doing an alright job mate..” She mused, inked fingers still brushing through her hair. “I was at least another half mile than usual before you passed out this time.. you’re getting better..” She teased her with a small smile. In moments like this, seeing Daz so relaxed, it broke the fighters heart to even think of her back in England, let alone in the living conditions.. or lack of, she had before. Seeing her stretching her leg, Tyler fixed Daz’s hair before sitting up slightly, patting her on slap. “Come on.. give it up.” She nodded to her leg. “Massage and a heat patch and you’ll be good to go in no time..” She promised her. “She’s a lucky girl.” Tyler mused before glancing aside upon realisation. “Y’know.. there’s some people who aren’t nice.. to any animal.. but she got lucky with you mate.. real lucky.” She insisted.

Daz was a workhorse, the kind that didn’t stop until the job was done. The kind that had seen times where if she didn’t do then she didn’t get. No one had given to her, nothing was offered to her without her having to work towards her. Her life had been a gift and a burden to herself, getting to America had been the greatest gift she’d worked towards. The challenge of keeping up with Tyler wasn’t really much of a challenge at all when she thought about it, grueling yes but she was still grateful to be able to experience it. Daz had even noticed that the more she did with Tyler the more she could give to her job, the longer hours she could do and the more effective she was in shutting down different situations. Though she was endlessly thankful, saying as much never did cross her mind. 

“Getting better? I think I’m doing a better job than your trainers are.” “I’ll do one of them ice baths that all the pros do.” The taller of the pair joked, moving to get that bit closer to Tyler. “I know that, monk. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. D’you know, not too long ago, back in London, I hung around with a lot of people who had dogs and that...” Panhandlers, people tended to look more kindly on those with dogs and children, feeling as if their change could make a difference. Daz knew it wouldn’t, but she left them to their dastardly attempts to wangle money out of others’ pockets. “I remember this one bloke, tiny mite of a thing, had the most beautiful little, what was it, a beagle? I think, but listen, it was a dog anyway. Thin as anything and one day I caught that fucker teasing it, actually teasing it with some scrap of food. Won’t lie to you, beat the life out of him, didn’t go killing or anything, but bloody hell was pissed. Took the little thing to one of those shelters. Hope she’s doing alright now, hope she’s got someone better. Do you think she has?” Daz could hope all she wanted, but there was something about Tyler’s ability to reassure her that would give her the more clinical and all-knowing answer she needed. 

[daz-roth-blog]

tylerprince:

Just a bit further.. only a few more a minutes.. or.. only to the next beach house. That’s how walks with Tyler usually went if the Brit and her darling Doberman tagged along. It’s end in Tyler taking Princess’ lead for a final sprint while a certain somewhat sprawled in the sand, heaving, trying to recover. But the pair were well looked after. With Princess getting a bath, Tyler pulling Daz into the shower with her before making them breakfast, no doubt the rest of the day would be wasted away.    Hell.. if anybody was to step in on such a picture of the trio right now, they would surely get the wrong idea. Sprawled on Ty’s bed, the fighter rested her head on the others chest, tucked all too perfectly into her side, ear against her chest, listening to the steady strum of her heart while Princess lay on the side opposite, tongue occasionally reaching out to lick Daz’s arm or the underside of Ty’s chin.. as if to let them know that she was still there. “I see you, gorgeous.. I do..” She mumbled, reaching over, searching behind the doberman’s ears before glancing up at Daz. “Recovered yet?” She asked, moving an inked hand from Princess to run through the Brit’s damp hair. 

@daz-roth​

Daz was slowly convincing herself that Tyler was training her for a marathon. Either that or with every walk they went on the sidewalks and trails of Los Angeles stretched underneath them. Every jaunt becoming longer and longer and leaving Daz essentially speechless, all huffed breaths, probably a reward for Tyler, the only true way to get peace in the Brit’s company. But there was always light at the end of the tunnel, there was always a bed with a view waiting at the end, even if the finish line seemed a world away at times. 

“Listen, yeah? I’m not the trained fuckin’ athlete...” Daz started, preparing herself to defend her lacklustre performance but found herself instantly soothed by the touch of Tyler’s hand. That brand of serenity was lost on Daz in her day to day moments of unnecessary frustration, prone to anger and to confusion and so tragically unused to tenderness. Tyler Prince was not one that most would consider synonymous with the word tender, whereas for Daz these softer moments were so quintessentially Tyler.  “Don’t think I’m fully recovered just yet, monk.” The Brit mused as she stretched one of her legs before recoiling at the tightness in the overused muscles. “But I know she loves it so I guess it’s worth it.” Daz’ looked over to Princess who dug further into her side, reaffirming Daz’s idea that her adored pet understood every word that passed her lips. 

[daz-roth-blog]

mrgalenprice:

He smirks at her chuckle and walks around the counter. “Dog houses are good, especially in the summer its a good shade that’s sometimes hard to find. Now we don’t actually sell wood, all of ours comes from a wholesaler but I can help you out if you’d like. With the designs and picking it out, even making it if you’d like”

“Listen, I’m not going to say no to the help, because if I can be honest with you, I don’t really know what I’m doing.” A neighbor had offered their tools, but even with that Daz was at a loss in terms of logistics. She had a natural penchant for diving in head first, but some things really did require a forethought that she simply wasn’t used to. “I just want to make something pretty swanky, you know. Dark wood and... Well, that’s what I’ve got so far.” 

[daz-roth-blog]

mscarleighaortiz:

She frowned faintly unsure how to answer. “Honestly I’m not really sure. I don’t always notice when I’m tasting it. Its a little richer..but usually its followed by hives..” She shrugs faintly, “You know what, I’ll just go get another one. That’ll be easier”

“Right, well fuck hives, I guess.” Daz kept a hold of the coffee, figuring it was best to keep it away from Carleigha just in case. “Can I buy it for you? It’d make me feel better about being useless.” There was a bright smile on her lips, said jokingly, but the offer was serious. In truth, Daz just really enjoyed the idea of even having the ability to buy things for other people, no matter how big or small, every time it reminded her that life was getting better than she could have imagined. 

[daz-roth-blog]

mrgalenprice:

Galen was eager to help out his boss. Though he’d much rather be in the back, working with his hands, they had to take turns running the front. If anyone were to come in someone had to be there to greet them and help them along. There were premade pieces out in the front to sell as well and Galen enjoyed playing up the pieces and their uses.“Welcome to the shop, is there something I can create for you?”  

“I was actually just looking for some wood---” Daz paused and chuckled at her own wording, it was probably too early in the day for her to be around other people. “I’m looking to make a doghouse, don’t know if it’s a good idea or a terrible idea just yet.” The Brit liked the idea of making a home away from home for her Doberman Princess but she did have concerns that the whole thing could cave in before she even began. 

[daz-roth-blog]

mscarleighaortiz:

She frowns looking down to the drink she shook her head. Something was off. After a moment she turned to the person next to her holding up the drink. “This might sound like an odd question…Do you mind tasting this? I think it was made with soy milk…I swear I’m not being high maintenance. I’m just allergic to soy”

Daz narrowed her brows at the mention of soy milk before taking the cup from the woman. “Soy milk... Right, and what does soy milk taste like when it’s at home, Car?” The taller of the pair asked, knowing that her palette definitely wasn’t refined enough to save this woman from some kind of allergic reaction.

[daz-roth-blog]

ripleyreginaross:

Ripley sat her bag down on the library table. She supposed that she could get some grading done in moment of spare time. She sat in the chair and scooted it in with her feet. She began to unpack her things, laying them out with care. She was sitting in a fairly secluded corner, hoping that she would be hidden. She picked up her phone to check the time and note it before she started diving into the pile of undergrad papers. 

Daz tended to sit in the furthermost reaches of the library, as far from other people as possible. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being around people, no she was as social as they came, but reading wasn’t something she was all that good at and the last thing she wanted for her squints and groans was an audience. But there did come times where she had to forcibly unfurl herself from her chair in search of help. The nearest woman looked kind enough, but Daz took a moment to compose herself, she did hate imposing. “Hi darling, listen I don’t mean to bother you, I wasn’t just wonderin’ if you’d help me.” Daz finger was held firm over the word that had stopped her in her tracks, holding out hope that the woman would actually care to help. “There’s just this word and I haven’t got a scooby as to what it means. Would you take a look?”

[daz-roth-blog]

diego-olmedillo:

Diego hasn’t really thought about it, he would perhaps do something to tell his struggle or maybe just write about what he knows, latinamerican corruption or music, perhaps both in one might be interesting “I have no idea, I haven’t put much thought into it, maybe one day I’ll just write the biography or a band I love and follow on a world tour” Diego kept looking at the woman as she drawn, taking his camera and taking pictures of what she was doing “Because someone missed a note or because you did?”

“A biography, right. Everyone has their stories, don’t they? I feel like if I was going to read anything it’d be a biography. The fake stuff is fine, but it’s like people don’t think this world is interesting enough.” Perhaps Daz had just seen more of it, or arguably too much of it. Though she didn’t shy away from the world, her childhood had been full of movies instead of books as an escape. “Oh I don’t play, I just tend to get a bit mixed up in things, you know?” The tall Brit explained as she glanced up at his camera before shying away and putting her focus back on her work. 

[daz-roth-blog]

minoulynn:

Sitting on an old blanket she stole long ago with three sketchbooks and an array of pencils spread before her, Minou was currently eating the banana bread she made at three am to satisfy the munchies. She was people watching, one of her favourite interests, while leaning against a pillow someone left in the apartment she was renting. Brown eyes settled on an adult reading a book. “You ever think people go outside to read so they won’t feel lonely?” She was speaking aloud but as always to herself. “Or maybe they won’t read at all if there’s no one around to see them do it.”

Daz hadn’t meant to interupt the artist but naturally Princess was the more social of the two during the day, always in full control of where their walks lead them. “I think you’re probably right, Min. But to be fair, I don’t really think much about why people would read or not read.” Daz explained as she stood over the young woman, trying to keep a hold of Princess who insisted on pulling on the leash when in the company of a familiar face. “You feeling lonely, darlin’? Cause I think this one wants nothing more than to keep you company.”

[daz-roth-blog]

What is one of the most memorable days of your life?

“I think it was the whole airport day getting to America.” There were many days of her life that had changed things, but getting to America was a fever dream she couldn’t let go of.  “I’d never been on a plane before. Really something strange and when you’re as tall as me it’s really not something you’re going to forget. There was nothing like getting off that plane. It was great getting to stand up again and being on solid ground but... It was like walking out into a different world or something. I felt like I’d made it, years in the making and things were finally turning around. Amazing really.”

[daz-roth-blog]

Would you pretend to be someone you're not just so you could please a person in your life?

“I’m not sure who I’d pretend to be.” A small shrug of her shoulders, trying to contend with which superhero she’d be if she were to have an alter ego. “Not trying to be funny or anythin’, I just don’t think I’m a good enough actor to go being someone else. If I please you, I please you and if I don’t... Then I guess I’m not good enough.”