and the air was full of various storms and saints, parading the s t r e e t s as the banks began to BREAK. and im in the throes of it, somewhere in the belly of the BEAST- but you took your t o l l on me, so i gave myself over willingly. you got a hold on me and i don't know how i don't just stand outside and SCREAM; i am teaching myself how to be f r e e.
Taking a drag from the joint now that it was back where it belonged, he eyed the child nearby, glancing back up to Mo when she spoke again. “He still on about that pegging thing? Amazing,” he remarked, glancing over to the fixed spot you were meant to stand to attempt to dunk her. “Can I try?”
“Oh yeah,” Mo nodded, leaning forward again, chin pressed into the palm of her hand, “Only known the lad for a year but God - speaks as if it’s life or death. Horny on main, ye’know?” her eyes followed the kid as they left, a small, inaudible but visible sigh of relief leaving her. “Ye - go ahead, dunk me - wanna create a crater in the ground when I hit it,”
narrowing her eyes as she tried to understand if she was being for real or not, olivia took a step back when she splashed her, chuckling a little. “sounds perfectly logical, sure,” she nodded, still intrigued by the girl. “sorry i can’t help with that — not much of a kiddie, and definitely not in the habit of pissing myself,” she shrugged. “i can’t even try being scary, but i could… bring children over, if it will help. tell them you’re a witch that will be destroyed in water? i don’t know.”
“ye’d be willing to do that? lure bairns to their social demise? pretty twisted, don’tcha think? i’ll take it - not giving up any of my well-earned money ‘cos i couldn’t get a few kiddies to piss. ‘sides - ye got that kinda nice trusting face, think ah’d snarl at ‘em and scare ‘em off too soon,” she leaned back and crossed her legs, fingers skimming the water below, “gotta make ‘em pay, first - ye’know? you up for the challenge?”
“I really need a fucking – Fucking translator,” he complained aloud, exhaling as his arms hung over the tank. Benji had to stand on the tips of his toes to rest them there, snorting at Mo’s impression. “I mean, that was pretty good. Except, American throats are raw and un-lubricated,” he replied. Glancing over his shoulder, he exhaled. “Teddy’s working this too?” he asked. “Haven’t seen him in a while. Either he’s avoiding me or Blake’s penis is just super time-consuming.”
“Get one,” she handed the joint back, slouching against the flimsy wall behind her - it probably wasn’t supposed to be flimsy. “Ah’ll take notes for when I’m - “ Mo promptly shut up, eyes flickering towards a stray child - unwilling to be vulgar; remembering briefly that it was a family event, “ - ye, think he’s - pissing or some shit.” she turned her head towards Benji, offering a small shrug, “Naw, he’s probably been interviewing potential peggsters from Craigslists’ wanted connections. Desperate times, ye’kno?”
Rolling his eyes, Benji reached for the lighter, taking it hesitantly. “A schneeb? Can we speak American English? This isn’t even my first language, give me mercy here,” he complained, lighting up the joint finally and sighing in relief once he finally got a pull. Handing the lighter back along with the joint, he sighed. “How long do you have to do this? Seems like the worst job in the park.”
Mo scoffed - “A shneeb, ye’ numpty. That’s not my problem now, inn’it?” she cleared her throat rather dramatically before putting on her best American accent, “I love America and hamburgers and shoving hotdogs at an alarming rate down my slimy, American throat. Can’t wait to go home and watch the Kardashians fuck on live TV. Live laugh love! God bless, amen.” only stopping to put the joint to her lips - Mo shrugged, swallowing down smoke in a very unnecessary manner, “Probably - fuck,” she let out a wheeze and a cough, “ -’til Tedster himself comes back from -whatever tae fuck he does. Ah dun’ mind - got an audition for lobster numbah five at Joe’s Crab Shack or whatae-fuck.”
“Are you supposed to be harassing them like that?” Benji questioned as he entered the scene, reaching up expectantly. “Can I have a lighter?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to spark up a joint behind the booth for like twenty minutes, but my ol’ Pulp Fiction bic seems to be at its last day,” he complained. “Promise to shoot you straight into the water in exchange.”
“Naw,” she replied with a quick grin, raised eyebrows following directly after at his request, “what makes ye’ think I’ve got a light on me?” mo paused for a moment, before producing a lighter from her bikini top and handing it over, near reluctantly. “Do me one better and lemme catch a shneeb - god knows ah need it. Fuck tha job - all that mince.”
usually, an event like this would’ve had stellar green participation, her parents always so willing to get involved in everything town related, and more importantly, eager to push olivia into doing things she would hate with a passion. given the circumstances, they were laying low, and olivia had specifically been asked not to show up by her family, but she figured she could take it by now. “is that safe?” olivia asked, definitely not interested in trying to sink the blonde but curious as to why anyone would put themselves in such a position. “are you supposed to be intimidating the players to make it harder, or is it just for kicks that you do it?”
head snapping up and turning quick - much like a predator catching sight of prey, mo looked at the other girl; her head tilted, tilted so far it felt near animalistic, like it’d keep going and she’d wound up looking like an owl - she only let out a scoff and shrugged, resuming a normal posture, “deh care - what’s the worse it gonnae do to me? hurt my arse?” shaking her head and swinging her feet - just barely submerged in the water, she kicked a splash forward, towards olivia, “i’ve got a bet with my coworker - told ‘em i’d get five kiddies to piss ‘emselves before they could dunk me.”
“is that all ye got?! my gran’s got better aim than yer’s and she’s six feet in the dirt, ye weakling!” mo leaned forwards on the seat inside the dunk tank, fingers curling around the chain link fence and wild curls - natural red poorly bleached to blonde - flying behind her, “i want you to put me in the fookin’ ground, ye peedy bastard!” the boy - looking about as old as a high school junior - threw his last ball, shakily - missing by a large margin; much to the exasperation of mo. she made a loud ‘ER!’ sound - rattling the fence before sitting back, “get outta here, christ almighty - next!”
adrian: if livingstone was a reality tv show i think i would be the one who throws drinks in people's faces
adrian: like the villian
adrian: but id have a redemption arc in the second season because i'd shave my head and take a vow of silence. twitter would uncancel me and i've have my own line of unisex boxer briefs
adrian: wby whats your story line
mòrag: a'd be messy n' a wee bit unhinged. a've fucked loads o' husbands. ah show na signs o' stopping. in th' finale ah set fire tae someone's motor n' git a spin-off in prison.
demi girl — ever hear people say MÒRAG DÒMHNALLACH looks a lot like FREYA MAVOR? I think SHE/THEY is about 22, so it doesn’t really work. The MUSICIAN is here because THEY’RE LOOKING FOR SOMEONE and they are from STROMNESS, SCOTLAND. They can be VEHEMENT, but they can also be CUTTHROAT. I think MOE might be A TIER 3 SHEPHERD. ( snot goblin. 20. est. she/they. )
demi girl — ever hear people say MÒRAG DÒMHNALLACH looks a lot like FREYA MAVOR? I think SHE/THEY is about 22, so it doesn’t really work. The MUSICIAN is here because THEY’RE LOOKING FOR SOMEONE and they are from STROMNESS, SCOTLAND. They can be VEHEMENT, but they can also be CUTTHROAT. I think MOE might be A TIER 3 SHEPHERD. ( snot goblin. 20. est. she/they. )
ok ... whew ... finally churning this one out !! art’s will probably be up tomorrow (today now ... that i’ve finished this intro ... ) b/c it takes me forever to set up blogs / get my graphics done sakskjfdmk. moe’s a ... lot, and she’s brand spankin’ new so !! a mixture of a few old muses but also inspired from a character in a webcomic that i do not own. i just rly like angry redheaded scottish gals. is it like ... a stereotype ? maybe. most triggers will not be gone into detail / are there as a catch-all (aka i was unsure as if to tag it so i did anyway).
breaking drumsticks, yelling over angry music, accusations and pointing figures, downing what’s left in the medicine cabinet, flannels covered in dirt, empty gasoline tanks, distant fires, brackish water, too many freckles, the smell of bleach, red lingerie and eager to please smiles, begging for the bare minimum, leaky eyes blinking, a thick accent barely penetrable. angry eyebrows, vandalizing waiting room magazines, getting kicked out of bars, bloody lips and bruised eyes, broken nails, empty pizza boxes, dogs barking, a hazy childhood, children crying.
general info !!
full name: mòrag greer dòmhnallach
nickname(s): moor / mòr, moe, raggedy ann, dom, gree, merida, etc. etc.
b.o.d. - april 4th
label(s): the black hole, the crimson, the hellcat, the tenacious, etc. etc.
height: 5′9″ !!
hometown: stromness, scotland
sexuality: bisexual
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biography !!
born to machar and dearbhail dòmhnallach in a shoddy little flat on the coast of one of scotland’s islands, surrounded by docks and fishermen.
there were more of her - brothers and sisters, though it’s been a long time since she had contact with any of them.
machar and dearbhail were two drug addicts, too young for children and too irresponsible to take care of them properly. drop-outs, in love with music and themselves.
her parents often claimed to see the devil, or god - they saw demons in moe, cried when she came near, flinched away from her when she’d reach out. she was the only one they saw this ‘uncontrollable evil’ in.
so, for the first nine years of moe’s life, she scampered around fishermen and their boats, begging to be let on.
she was never let on no matter how much she pleaded.
when moe was around nine, her parents mutually overdosed. they survived - but deemed unfit as parents, moe separated from them and her siblings.
from then she’d hop from foster home to foster home; there weren’t too many available across their island; she’d go to the mainland at some point. doesn’t know whether her parents ever got better because she never got handed back to them. she never asked as a child, never wanted to know as a teenager - assumed the worst when she was an adult.
it was hard, moving around - she’d always been a fairly headstrong girl, too many opinions, too bossy - too demanding. the kind of girl who got into fights with the rest of the street kids - spat in the faces of any pretentious kids who laughed at her worn in shoes or tugged on her red curls. she hit a lot of people, got hit a lot back.
a bully to bullies, bullied by bullies ... a vicious cycle, fending for her right to exist among unruly boys.
was dating the same unruly boys by the time she was thirteen, ‘breaking hearts’ left and right, taking drugs from older teens and sneaking out of whoever’s house.
ran away from her last foster home at the cusp of sixteen when her foster dad tried to put his hands on her - slept on friends’ couches afterwards and took up any job she could pick up. moved in with her ‘boyfriend’ four years older than her months later.
found herself scrambling for attention, love, affection - from her boyfriend, from other men, felt herself trying to fit molds that they wanted from her. when she found herself too harsh she’d quiet down - cooked when they wanted her to, let herself be a doll for them to play with.
her brash personality always shown through in the end - relationships ended in disaster, in screaming matches and bloody knuckles. moe’s had her fair share of abuse in the form of men telling her they loved her.
there was a particularly bad one - her longest relationship to date - without going into detail; it was physical to the point of hospitalization and he ran off without facing the consequences.
struggled with addiction throughout her teens, on and off; not wanting to be like her parents but feeling it in her blood - being tempted by the people surrounding her.
when moe was eighteen she got pregnant - panicked hardcore. tried to clean herself up and was doing well until her boyfriend at the time dumped her for another, not-pregnant lass. spiraled after that. lost the baby.
was always really ... spiteful ? after a relationship would end - even if it was for the better (which they nearly always were) she’d act out of control, keying cars and slashing tires and leaving cow shit on their front step. throwing rocks through windows. starting a fire or two. it was therapeutic in a way.
has always wanted ... compensation? vengeance? for the things that happened to her. wanted someone to pay for the wrongdoings she’d face in life.
caught wind of her one ex moving to livingstone for a study abroad program with his university, so moe decided to save up and go to school at gifford when she was around ... twenty or twenty-one ?
decided to study music because it’d been the only constant in her life - moe’s always been a drummer, always played in bands or alone. on the streets for money, in pubs, etc. etc. anywhere she could.
became roommates with kieran !! wound up fucking him too - nothing romantic about it. just two pals fucking and sharing a dorm. he introduced her to the watershed app when it came out and - thinking it could be useful when she encountered and dealt with her abuser - moe became a shepherd. it was a power surge. she felt in control for once in her life.
had a falling out with kieran in january - next thing she knew, she was asking him to meet her at the baseball diamond for make-up sex - and then he was dead. moe still isn’t sure why she did it, why she played the part she did ( note: yes this is apollo’s secret yes i’m reusing it b/c let’s face it it’s JUICY )
has been in livingstone since - dropped out of gifford and moved out of the dorm she once shared with kieran, now lives in probably the shittiest apartment complex in livingstone. doesn’t have the money to leave.
probably has been in a band. probably has gotten kicked out of a band. sings at gully’s irish pub but usually ends the night getting into a fight with a patron (or the bartender. or gully) and getting kicked out. they let her back in because she’s got a haunting, siren’s call of a voice - and boobs. it’s a vicious cycle.
and to be honest? moe’s found her abuser. he’s in livingstone and she sees him. and she wants him gone - not from livingstone, or the country, but from life. would probably do anything to achieve that. she thought that she would be able to do it, if she ever saw him. rehearsed what she would say over and over again in her mind - but when she did finally spot him across the street and in a small cafe, laughing and chatting to whatever woman - moe chickened out.
as of currently she’s just trying to pay bills while avoiding death and battling addiction. some things never change !
personality !!
she’s so. aggressive. has a mouth that won’t shut up and often offers her opinion - crass, usually - without being asked. it gets herself into a lot of arguments. she’s very opinionated. very rude.
has probably fought a tree before when drunk. will fight literally anybody. you, the bouncer, the bouncer’s grandma, a feral dog, herself.
is pretty much feral. has no manners, is very messy. hair is always knotted and her makeup’s always smudged.
bleaches her red hair because she got sick of people calling her merida - got sick of people using her hair as a means to sexualize her. her roots still peak out, though, and she misses spots. sometimes ends up just. strawberry-blonde. it’s very annoying.
has been in livingstone for ... a hot second, but her scottish accent is still very strong. it can be hard to understand her, especially if she’s speaking fast (she usually is) or if she’s angry (she usually is) or if she’s drunk (not as often).
has probably stabbed a man before out of self defense ?? probably spent a few days in a cell for whatever reason. multiple times. the cell part, not the stabbing part.
she’s committed arson before, burnt down one of her ex’s flats down back in scotland and never got caught. fun !
acts very impulsively and doesn’t put a lot of thought into her actions. kind of like ... muscles over brain sort of ordeal.
speaking of ... girl’s a lil buff. played a lot of sports in between getting high and having a terrible taste in men. still does for fun, but isn’t on a team or anything ever since she dropped out of gifford.
doesn’t really talk about her past because she doesn’t find it worth mentioning. has some trauma from it, too, that she lets get to her rather than deal with it properly.
addicted to several substances but it’s a constant battle of weaning herself off of them and come crawling back within a few weeks.
moe, like, Fucks, but that’s the extent of it. doesn’t really do fwbs or relationships - just one night stands. would rather not know your name and doesn’t want to fall into any of her nasty cycles again.
will not tell you want to hear and will only tell you what she thinks you need to hear, which isn’t always. right. or needed. but she’ll do it.
uuuhhh despite being the equivalent of a burning trashcan, moe is fiercely loyal to those who have wiggled their way into her heart. like, commit murder loyal.
(not that it would take her a lot to murder someone - though it’s like ... a vengeance sort of ordeal? she wants to be a vigilante, sort of. protector of survivors. slayer of abusers. she just...needs to take a look at a law book b/c it’s very much illegal.)
no but yeah. she doesn’t get any less harsh or any more ... soft, with anybody she’s close to - maybe a little soft, but not by much. nothing measurable, at least.
despite telling people what she thinks, will often do the opposite of what people tell her. is ridiculously stubborn.
uh. doesn’t believe in god, doesn’t want to believe in god, is god-fearing. is afraid her parents were right about her - that she was some sort of demonic force.
kind of ... immature ? whines a lot when she doesn’t get what she wants, very insistent. very bossy.
has gotten into ... so many fights ... have i mentioned that? is constantly injured. it’s gotten to the point where ‘ur a girl i can’t punch u!’ doesn’t apply to her.
doesn’t do like ... parties ... but will be seen at a bar frequently, doing whatever the fuck. usually drinking beer.
honestly? probably an idiot. where is her brain? nobody knows.
has broken so many drumsticks. please, ma’am. stop hitting the drums so hard.
but YA she’s a singer at gully’s, sometimes, because she’s got a nice voice but she also hates singing ... just does it for the money when she’s tight around rent-time. reminds her of past relationships.
probably. has like. a bug infestation in her apartment. it’s just gross and old and falling apart and she’s like :) this is fine :) because she’s used to that sort of environment.
afraid that she’ll never be in anything healthy, that she herself is a generally unhealthy person to be around. but she doesn’t know how to really ?? change herself ?? so she’s decided on being in solitude for the rest of her life.
rides a motorcycle only. fixed it up herself.
is loyal like i said and she wants to believe that she can drop anybody who has wronged her but sometimes ends up in a cycle of toxic friendships because she’s just ... got attachment issues.
got an attachment to fire ... might be pyromania ! might just be. a thing. is equally attached to the ocean due to where she lived.
very ... protective of anybody who have been in similar situations as her. isn’t very trusting of others besides it.
wanted connections !!
i want to make a connections page so im gna try n keep this brief.
naomi: we're at the bar. it's been a great night, we've laughed, shared a few drinks. cried over a heart to heart. an elton john song is playing in the background..
naomi: but this guy comes up and slaps my ass.
naomi: [ https://i.imgflip.com/nj274.jpg ]
naomi: what's your next move?
apollo: in this scenario i choose to become a white knight
apollo: i backhand the offender, who is obviously an alien, and i've been training for the area 51 raid, and lecture him on women's rights. he is embarrassed. he's an alien and doesn't understand. he's visibly crying.
apollo: then once he runs away, i hand you my fedora to keep your ears warm. the entire bar claps. we don't kiss because i'm saving it for marriage. you respect it.
apollo: the next day u block me on all social media and i rant about it in my WoW guild and lose us a raid.
@leo_fowler: what if 🙊 we kissed 😳💋 in the watershed killer's 💦🔪 basement 😏😩
@gnomegnads: https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/588454064501686437/597286822485426206/legitimate_work.png?width=391&height=587 he isn't a joke, leo. he's real and he's out here.
With dark eyes, the redhead couldn’t help herself but look at him with a worried look. It was a good thing that it was that pitch dark, almost no lighting coming their way and the fact that he seemed too dosed off to actually reflect anything that was happening in her face - all of it made her feel slightly at ease about causing yet another reason for him to dive deep into whatever black shit was lingering around his mind. “I got played”, confessed the woman, awkwardly positioning herself at the almost very edge of the bench, hands sliding between her knees. “Someone said that they have an information about Karr that could help me but never came. Otherwise, you know I’m not big of a fan of this kinds of gatherings. But I like your way of thinking."
It was hard for her to remain calm and in one place at this point. The alcohol in her blood wasn’t that much but her nerves were totally wrecking her. Now, her hands nervously tapped on one of her legs before she shifted and wrapped them around her body, eyes drifting towards nothing in particular. The music was still coming to them and it was making her on edge and rather pissed off but there was nothing to be done. "You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Is it because of the… app?” That last traitorous word came out quieter from her lips, while her eyes shifted onto him and the joint in his hand. Sinful desire started to brew in her chest but she managed to swallow hard and convince herself that it was easily dismissed. She was stronger than her need. What a fool.
“You got played,” he repeated, an eyebrow raised as he shifted in the seat - sitting up from his original position - taking a short drag. Apollo shook his head, a scoff on his lips, “You can’t trust anyone, Red, it’s how that shit goes. Prank calls and false clues and shit, everybody wants their fifteen minutes. Even if they did - better places to meet at than a shitty party.” There wasn’t a filter on his mouth - voicing opinions without much thought before or afterwards. “Maybe it’d do you some good to, y’know, get out more. Not to shitshows like these - but you get it? Feels like you’re consumed.”
It was a hypocritical thing to say with recent events in play - his mind a one-track record, repeating the same things over and over again. He watched her behind heavy lids, head bobbing to the music, really only processing the heaviest bits of instruments. Another scoff rose up - Apollo shaking his head and sitting up, leg brought up to rest on the bench, “I always look like this. I’m just aging funny.” a pause and then, “What else would it be? Shit’s fucking - wack, firstly. Not really planning on dying because of some fuck-ass app.” He took another drag, letting the smoke funnel out of his mouth with a near-bored, mostly dazed expression - before holding it out towards Ariella, “You want it? It’ll either relax you or wig you out, feels like a pretty good gamble to me.”
