FINE, MAKE ME YOUR VILLAIN.

DEVON ENRIQUE ARRIAGA. 31. damaged boy with a black heart.

[devarriaga]

❝ HE’S FIRE AND ICE. YOU’LL FEAR THE COLD AND CRAVE THE BURN. ❞

name. devon enrique cisneros arriaga nicknames. dev, kique (close friends + fam) age. thirty one. hometown. manhattan, ny (born in mexico) length of time in vc. a few days - ish

BIO UNDER CUT.

tidbits ...

born in culiacán, mexico to a basque mother and mexican father, devon had all the love any child could ever need running through his veins. it’s just a shame, that love would later be snuffed out. not long after esteban cisneros was killed by a drug cartel in their home, did carla arriaga flee with her newborn son. they took up refuge in carla’s family home where she raised devon by herself until he was three and she met a rich, charming man from the city at the hotel where she worked in mexico. the two hit it off and entered into a whirlwind marriage rather abruptly. but carla was easy to love and adam couldn’t wait to build a life with her and her son.

they followed adam to the big apple where he’d lived his entire life. he came from a long lineage of bankers, politicians and business mongrels. the sudden, instantaneous transition from rags to riches really did a number on devon. he went from having nothing to everything in a matter of a few short weeks. over the years, this turned a warmhearted, humble kid into a stone cold prick. one that was easily swayed by money and power. after all, it made his life easier.

in time and age, devon began to emulate his stepfather by putting material belongings and possessions, along with social status, over genuine human connections. he made okay grades, partied too hard, and slept around way too much. he was your typical teenage lothario.

least he was... until he met her. a brown eyed, 5′4 beauty who swept him off his feet with her bright smile and heavenly dripped laugh. kiraz sayar had taken his clipped wings and reattached them. taught him how to fly and soar to new heights, persuaded by her love and light. so much so, he let it blind him. before devon knew it, he let her sunny heart overshadow his darkness.

for awhile, everything was glorious. the devil had found his angel and as crazy as it sounded, he loved her. in the best ways he knew how. but, it wasn’t always sunshine and roses. kira might’ve pulled devon from the depths of his own hell but she couldn’t completely eradicate his purgatory.

all that love crashed and burned the second self doubt, insecurities and jealousy coiled around his heart. the love that blossomed, was washed out and demolished by rain. devon let his uncertainties, hesitations and poisonous fears ruin them. ruin her. he pushed her away, right into the arms of another man who he’d later come to learn had fathered her child. a child that wasn’t his. a child that has yet to be born and yet he despises with every shred of hatred his being can muster.

when he found out she cheated (despite her having every reason to at the time) devon was livid. he couldn’t look at her anymore without seeing scarlet red clouding his vision. in a desperate attempt to preserve his dignity or ego, he had his family pay her off and chase her out of the city she started to make her home. in devon’s eyes, she didn’t belong in new york and he didn’t want her there.

after she left though, all that pain and loathing and visceral hate still hadn’t let up. it wasn’t every day that someone so pure hearted and so naive was able to pull the wool over his eyes. it bothered him to his core. still does. to the point, he’s on a mission to fix that. vancouver’s his opportunity to settle a score he refuses to lose. besides, he needs answers. a cure for the violent ache in his chest. an emptiness that didn’t exist until she broke his heart. maybe if he’s satisfied, he’ll be able to let her go. put back what’s broken and start over again.

        either way..... if there’s one thing about the devil, he always gets his due.

[devarriaga]

dev to: kira

Dev: vc's nice this time of year. once you get past the accents.

Dev: i'm here and i want to see u. let's meet up.

Kira: [typing...]

Kira: I'm sorry, you're what?

Dev: i'm in vc. bored as hell and you know me, ki. i don't do bored.

Dev: where r u? let's meet. i promise i'll behave.

[devarriaga]

jasper​​

“I might’ve been purposely vague about the term ‘spaghetti factory,’” Jasper admits, even as he tightrope-walks across a weak-looking beam of wood up in the rafters of the abandoned building. “It was a restaurant called the Spaghetti Factory. Not an actual factory. But, like…it feels like one, so I wasn’t lying necessarily.” And it does, from the high ceiling almost reminiscent of a church stripped down to its bones to the boxes of random shit lying everywhere and the remains of an unfinished construction job. “They started tearing this place down like twenty years ago and never finished ‘cause it wasn’t worth the money or something. I came here when I was still in college, some idiots thought it would be cool to throw a rager here but of course the cops busted it in less than an hour.” Stopping near Dev, Jasper lowers himself to a sitting position on the beam, legs dangling thirty feet off the floor. “C’mere,” he pats the spot next to him, “come sit. It’s totally safe.”

if the beam creaks and sighs under jasper’s weight as he makes himself at home atop of it, dev doesn’t say anything. instead, stupidity inspires him to join him, hoping as he lets his legs dangle over the beam, no critters crawl out hoping to feast on their flesh. because don’t wild animals dig abandoned places? as do, bats. “why does it not surprise me that partying in an abandoned restaurant,” not factory, because jasper made the distinction loud and clear, “is your idea of fun? you gotta come to new york with me. i’ll take you to all my favorite haunts and you won’t even need a tetanus shot beforehand. but, you may want to watch out for std’s.”

[devarriaga]

dev to: kira

Dev: vc's nice this time of year. once you get past the accents.

Dev: i'm here and i want to see u. let's meet up.

[devarriaga]

desperate times call for equally desperate measures, devon’s afraid. had he any tact at all, he would’ve been more mindful of the consequences his actions could evoke, should any of them get back to his ex before he has a chance to confront her himself. unfortunately, there was no desire in him to thwart the raunchy, feminine giggles that travel through city brew pub’s unisex bathroom, or his masculine moans that accompany it. devon was on the verge of finally ridding thoughts of kira and replacing them with someone new when a barrel of knocks resounded from the other side of the restroom’s door. in the five minutes it took him to drunkenly pull apart his zipper, a line gathered outside the stall. impatient customers huffed and puffed as they waited their turn for the restroom. “ it’s occupied! fuck off! ”  the warnings issued between sloppy kisses, lingered for about another minute or two before there were more knocks, followed by the manager threatening to kick devon and his date, [who’s name he can’t remember] out should they not exit immediately. not ready to leave the pub as a whole quite yet, devon obliges, escorts his blind date back to the bar and pulls her into his lap before they order up another round of drinks. they manage to drunkenly play and purr, before she excuses herself to answer a call and devon’s left to loiter at the bar by himself. in his solitary, he knocks back his drink, orders up another round yet again, and casually flicks his gaze to the person at his left, who he can’t help but feel a little perturbed by. something about him, about the way they lock eyes, drudges up dev’s more hostile reflexes.  “ what are you lookin’ at ?”  @deanjacksons​​

[devarriaga]

" you’re gonna kill yourself. “   and devon will be forced to watch yet another life vanish right before his very eyes. the only difference between now and back then would be the fact that jasper is a complete stranger. far removed from any sense of urgency to save him. how he managed to talk devon into exploring an empty, abandoned spaghetti restaurant in gastown and climb it’s rafters like a monkey on crack was beyond him. the whole ordeal sounded like the dawn of a horror movie. it would be, if devon actually thought jasper could take him down. he had his doubts, even while drunk, even while having no knowledge of the city he’d vowed to takeover. somehow, in dev’s demented brain, smudged by a lack humanity,  jasper’s 5′8 less than 130 lbs build was no match for devon’s 6′1, 170.  it would be comical to watch them go head to head and completely unbalanced.   “ where the fuck are we ? “   @jjaspr​

[devarriaga]

[ MILO BOONE​ ]

who: open @vancitystarters

where: a back alley, any neighborhood you like

what: milo falls into a literal dumpster

Despite being one of the country’s most populous cities, there wasn’t a great deal of danger in Vancouver. There was danger of getting side-eyed by a rich blonde woman named Barbara, of course, and there was always the looming danger of finding a single piece of litter on the side of the road - the horror. But Milo found himself getting bored more and more easily every day. All his friends seemed to be growing up and having kids and wearing ties, leaving him in Neverland alone.

So now, here he was, swinging from a fire escape, and jumping onto a rooftop, sliding from there to the ground, all in the name of avoiding the barbed wire on the top of a locked gate. Some dangers had to be manufactured, these days. Desperate times. He preferred barbed wire to Barb the Boomer though, any day.

There was always some parkour involved in street art, he’d learned. The problems he encountered toward the heart of the city were more about cops than falling from heights, but as he slid off this rooftop, he realized this type of obstacle might be scarier just now. He hadn’t anticipated missing the ground entirely, but here he was… in a dumpster. A softer landing than the ground, maybe, but a much smellier one. He popped up from it only to find someone staring at him. They blinked. He blinked back.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” he smiled.

...

" i think we have different definitions of lovely. “   watching a complete stranger put a whole new meaning on dumpster diving wasn’t it. hell, the word lovely wasn’t even in dev’s vocabulary.  growing up in new york, you see a lot of really weird things. most of which would make the average person shudder.  but devon ??  not much phased him for reasons too dark to explain to the average person. let alone someone who thinks smelling like rubbish is comely. “ this city’s so fucking weird. and you, my friend, may want to get a head check. believe i saw a hospital a few blocks away. need me to call you an uber? ”  it’s either that or dev offers him a hand and he’s definitely not doing that.

[devarriaga]

[ ROMINA LAZAR​ ]

WHO: @vancitystarters​​ (capping at 4) WHERE: The Grocery Store

She knew they’d been ordering out a lot lately, the empty to go containers and pizza boxes filling up the garbage can constant reminders that she was spending money she shouldn’t be because of the convenience. But Romy simply couldn’t find the energy to cook lately. Bianca had started kindergarten, a momentous occasion that she and Luke had talked about, dreamed about, and yet… she was the only one there to see it. There to experience it. And it hurt like hell. But she couldn’t allow her pain to affect her daughter, not any further than it already had, so when the five year old requested lasagna ‘like daddy used to make’, Romy swallowed down her sorrow and made a grocery list. She’d made that lasagna a thousand times with her late husband, surely she could do it now, without him. Right?

She’d gotten halfway through it when she turned down the aisle that held most of the ingredients she’d need for dinner that night. After grabbing a couple packs of lasagna noodles, she began looking for the specific brand of tomato paste she needed. She’d been scouring the shelves for a few seconds when she finally spotted it… on a top shelf that she definitely couldn’t reach with her 5′5 frame. “Figures.” she muttered to herself, glancing around the aisle to see if there was anyone who could help her and finding it empty, she decided to climb up onto the bottom shelf and see if the added inches helped but she still fell short. Of course. She’d grabbed a nearby box of spaghetti in a feeble attempt to pull the small can towards her when she heard the squeaky wheel of a cart coming down her aisle. “Excuse me!” She called out, still extended as she attempted to reach the tomato paste, “Could you help me, please?”

...

it’s only been a couple of days since devon landed on canadian soil and already he hated it with a burning mania. he missed the teeming, uncultivated night life of the big apple. what do people even do around here for fun ?  besides watch hockey, eat their weight in poutine and as seen this morning - drown their breakfasts in sickening amounts of maple syrup ??

boredom and a vengeful stomach were the only excuses devon had for entering a grocery store a few blocks from his new, temporary home in vancouver. part of him hoped he’d score some much needed booze while he was out, to get him through the night. sadly, his only options were beer or wine and neither would be strong enough to put him out. so, while he scanned google for liquor stores nearby, he decided to multitask by checking off the rest of his list. his mission was to find a jar of pickled jalapenos to keep in his fridge, when he spotted a short woman flagging down anyone willing to help. at 6′1, devon took pity on her and offered her a very rare assist.  [ helping others wasn’t normally in his repertoire ]

“ tomato paste.”   he scans the label of the can he caught her struggling to reach, then hands it over.   “ what are you making? “

[devarriaga]

tiggy taggys.

[devarriaga]

𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖎𝖖𝖚𝖊 𝖈𝖎𝖘𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖌𝖆 1/?