The Horseman of Death

"Death is a bit of a grey area if we're going to be honest." The Horseman of Death, Queen Mictecacihuatl, La Calavera Catrina, Icon de la Día de los Muertos, Who holds the Marigold in one hand, and with the other plucks the Souls of the Dead Icon by: TheCrippledMuse

[deathhorseman]

OOC IMPORTANT NOTICE

outoftheend: I kind of hate to have to do this, but it most be dealt with immediately. I have just updated my rules with the following:

IMPORTANT NOTICE: Until further notice, no smut related things will be tolerated on this blog unless explicitly and extensively discussed about before hand. Under no circumstance will I tolerate fic/fanfic/drabbles/stories/etc. about my characters in sexual situations without discussion and my explicit permission first. Thank you.

It is something that has made me highly uncomfortable and this is how I am choosing to address it. If you have a problem with this, please contact me through IM or Skype. Thank you.

[deathhorseman]

olivierperrier:

“Well, Sonny never told me he was so talented. I will have to coax more out of him, it seems.” It’s not like Olivier hadn’t been keeping secrets too, but that was a different story. The mention of paying off the football team parents for some reason had Olivier’s curiosity pricked, but he had promised he would not ask Catrina about stories. He’d just ask Sonny when he got home.

“He has been pretty well-behaved around me at least.” Ollie smiled easy and charming. Oh, Sonny could be a brat sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be smoothed over with a couple well placed kisses. “I’ll keep him in line.” a light-hearted tease.

“Most of those things he took for protection; a few were his own choice,” Catrina said with a sigh. Stepping away from the counter, she walked over to the door just as it was opening. A flash of calloused hands, tanned skin, and dark brown hair where all that could be seen of Cecil as Cat took the food from him. Two plates were balanced on an arm, while a box rested in her other hand. 

Bring the food over, she set the two plates down in front of him. “Careful, they are hot. The box is for you to take home.” The box was set to the side. “Bebito, do you drink coke? Or something else with your meals?” The smaller of the two plates held rice, mixed with tomatoes, garlic, onions, and other ingredients. The larger held the three tacos with quinoa and black bean filling, romaine lettuce, and a creamy avocado sauce with feta cheese on top. 

“Have you been you been hiding a few things like Sanford? Any stories I would hear from family?”

[deathhorseman]

airbornegoldenboy:

“I know I’m a good kid.” He smiled, a little bit of smugness creeping into his voice. Despite having a plethora of parents, Catrina had been instrumental in his upbringing, so the praise might have made him puff up a bit.

“I won’t forget Aunt Cat, I never do when I’m serious. I’ve never missed one of Dad’s unbirthdays, have I?”

Catrina laughed. “You are right. You are right. But sometimes you can get caught in excitement and emotions. Te quiero, mijo,” she said.  His aunt patted him on the cheek. “Now go to your novio. I am sure he misses you.”

[deathhorseman]

outofthecoffin: Sorry I haven’t done replies. There was an incident with my research, that has now been resolved. I will be getting to replies this weekend.

[thingsforrp]

                                                   d e a т н                                          doeѕn'т dιѕcrιмιnaтe                             вeтween тнe ѕιnnerѕ and тнe ѕaιnтѕ         ιт тaĸeѕ            and ιт тaĸeѕ                   and ιт тaĸeѕ

[deathhorseman]

airbornegoldenboy:

“C’mon, Aunt Cat. You don’t mean that. You love me too much. And besides, name one of those guys who I let meet Mom and Dad, or who I was really serious about?”

“That is true. I just want you happy. He’s a good kid. You are too. If you to are serious, be smart,” Catrina said. She walked over to him and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Do not forget to care and think. Do not get caught up in everything.”

[deathhorseman]

olivierperrier:

Olivier blinked as she rattled off a food order for him. He nodded in agreement - all of it sounded delicious, if not a bit much. Three tacos? Olivier was a small man and though he should have a great calorie intake for his job and all the energy he expends there, he really doesn’t eat as much as he should. Apples and energy bars get him mostly through the day before having a bowl of soup or pasta to finish up at home.  He briefly wondered if Sonny perhaps put her up to this - the gymnast was always trying to get him to eat more.

“Thank you, I think I’d like that.” He smiled at her gracious offer. It made him nervous to think of attending a church when it had been so long, when he had been told he would burn in hell as one of God’s abominations all his life - but he was sort of looking forward to it. Olivier took a little interest at the question posed to him.

“No, we haven’t yet - I didn’t know he danced.”

“Of course he does! The parents of Sanford, they paid for it all. Dance lessons, surfing lessons, gymnastics lessons, piano lessons, martial arts, horseback riding, tutoring, firearms- you can name it, his parents probably paid for it. He just does not dance as much anymore, I believe,” she waved a hand and continued to speak, “I mean there was even the paying off a number of the football teams parents after the senior year incident.” 

She sighed and shook her head. What a mess that had been. “He is a spoiled child, but thank Dios he does not act it normally.”

[deathhorseman]

Trouble | verse: biker surfer au | @airbornegoldenboy

“Sanford Bartholomew Skies Andromeda Ra, if I find out that you are only playing this poor boy like you did with the football team or los novios de Alma, I will take it upon myself to punish you.”

[deathhorseman]

olivierperrier:

“Well, I’m a vegetarian - I hope that doesn’t present too many problems.” He offered apologetically. “I eat a lot of vegetables, and seafood sometimes. And anything sweet.” Olivier admitted. He was never allowed sweets when he was little and now he liked to indulge. 

“I’m a dance instructor, actually. Classically trained in ballet for about twelve years now. I went from performing to teaching two years ago and the ballet company that I just joined moved me out here to their new studio. I’m Catholic - but I have to admit I haven’t been in a church for a very long time.” His voice was softer towards the end. He slept with a rosary by his bed still, but ever since 16 he hasn’t gone into a church. He was a bit afraid of what might be waiting for him there.

“Okay. So, we will get you three tacos with quinoa and black beans and avocado sauce. And a side of rice. No meats. And for dessert, flan and a sopapilla,” she said, writing the order down. Tearing off the ticket, she walked back to the kitchen door and opening and yelling at the chef. Rapid fire Spanish  was yelled spoken between the two before Catrina returned, smiling at Olivier. 

She listened quietly while Olivier talked about himself. She perked up at the end when he said he was Catholic. “You can come to church with me sometime. Sanford will only come once in a blue moon. My daughter, I make go at least once a month,” she said and shook her head, “Dios de mio.” 

“Have you and Sanford danced together yet?” she asked.

[deathhorseman]

Bilingual problems...

me: *can't decide whether to write 'plage' or 'beach'*

me: *writes 'peach'*

[deathhorseman]

olivierperrier:

“I really shouldn’t break Sonny’s trust, he seemed pretty adamant that he likes to leave the past in the past, so I told him I wouldn’t go asking for stories.” Olivier was burningly curious, of course he was. But Sonny had asked him not to know, so he shouldn’t. He’d respect that.

“I will take your suggestion, then. I’m afraid I can’t read the Spanish and I trust your judgments.” Eyes flickered with surprise at the news of the paella. “Really, that’s so kind of you, you don’t have to do that.” He replied warmly, heart melting at the pat on his hand. Is this what families were really supposed to be like? Bright and loving? He wondered if Cat was a mother, and felt any child would be so lucky to have her as one. Already she was making him feel welcome and accepted.

“Bebito, do not worry about. If you are with Sanford, then you are family. I already have said that. I will take care of you. Now, since can not read Spanish how about we get you a food you know. What do you eat, bebito?” She asked, pulling out a pad of paper and pen. 

Catrina could see Olivier relaxing, and she was glad. The poor bebito looked happy but seemed a bit worn out. He needed a long rest. She smiled again.

“Since you do not want to hear stories about Sanford, tell me about you. What do you do? Do you go to church? Where are you from? Tell me everything, Bebito.”

[deathhorseman]

olivierperrier:

Olivier’s smile was bright and genuine as he was invited to sit down. He sat at the counter watching the woman move - fast and graceful. She certainly knew what she was doing. This change of warmth from the chilly meeting of Sonny’s parents was a welcome one - he had no idea that the man who had held a gun to his head and beat him unconscious in an alley was the one making his food.

The mug was accepted gratefully, taking a sip. The thick taste of chocolate made him smile. “This is delicious, thank you.” He took the menu to look at when it was offered. “Sonny warned me not to listen to the stories - so i think i will just look at the menu for now.” He replied. Her accent made his itch to be let out from how he covered it up.

“Sanford,” she tutted, “He just does not want me to tell you what he can be like. Or the mischief he got into. High school for him and mija was horrible. Always in trouble. He is the child of his parents though.” She sighed and shook her head. “If you do want to hear, I can tell you a story or two.”

“For el menú, I suggest los tacos de lengua con arroz y frijoles. I have mi primo Cecil, the chef, making paella de marisco for you to take to your home. Do not worry about paying though. My treat,” she said. Reaching over she patted his hand. “Whatever you want off the menu, bebito. Sanford is como mijo, and so you are familia.”

[deathhorseman]

olivierperrier:

Sonny had told him that his aunt owned the restaurant and inn in town. He thought he might stop by - meet more family. Olivier didn’t have a family himself, so he took comfort in seeing how Sonny’s family was.

The rapid Spanish caught him off-guard; he was fluent in French and German, but not Spanish. Still, he could gather just enough from school still to pick up the gist of what was being said.

      “I was stopping by to see your lunch options -                                   I’m Olivier, I know your nephew, Sonny?” his smile was charming,                    hand offered in greeting.

“Sobrino Sonny? Ah! Mijo Sanford!” She smile wider and shook his hand, before turning back to the kitchen door way to call to Cecil to make a order of paella she knew he’d make the Spain dish. This boy would at least be given a small treat to go. Plus whatever he wanted to order.

She slid behind the counter and waved him over to sit at the counter seats. “Come, come,” she said. Flipping switches on drink machines, she started to make a the blond a drink. Hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon. 

She sat the warm drink down in front of the blond. “So, Olivier?” she repeated, her accent heavier when sounding out the French name, “Bien. It is nice to meet you.” She sat a menu down as well. “What is it that you want to hear about? ¿El menú o Sanford?”

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[deathhorseman]

Tiempo de cuentos | verse: biker surfer au | @olivierperrier

The woman was standing in the doorway to the kitchen of her restaurant, yelling at someone in the back, when the front door swung open.

“Hola,” she said, “Me llamo Catrina. ¿Cómo puedo ayudarte? Do you want something? I will throw in a free dessert if you order. I need to make Cecil, lazy culo, to work.” She finally turned to the newcomer, smiling at them. 

“¿Cómo te llamas?”

[sacrilegioussounds-blog]

“I? KILL?” said Death, obviously offended. “CERTAINLY NOT. PEOPLE GET KILLED, BUT THAT’S THEIR BUSINESS. I JUST TAKE OVER FROM THEN ON. AFTER ALL, IT’D BE A BLOODY STUPID WORLD IF PEOPLE GOT KILLED WITHOUT DYING, WOULDN’T IT.”

 Terry Pratchett. (via varytita)

[weardes]