w a n d e r e r

ERICA PERALTA ; 21 | the muscle she is a remarkable girl, radiantly real somehow, liberated as it were from the worrying balderdash which burdens most of us.

[wiresmickie]

“I haven’t received a call from my dad in a while, I’m starting to get worried.”

[ericaperalta-blog1]

"Did you crack a window for him and remember to leave water in his bowl?"

[ericaperalta-blog1]

[text]: i haven't made a guy hard in ages. let's go out and grind on people.

[text]: i’m changing my bra to match. meet you in 5.

[lucasreid-rpg-blog]

Lucas wasn’t easily rattled - he’d experienced enough seizures, complications, screenings, hospital visits, brain scans and bottle after bottle of medication to be fairly calm about his health problems. Today, however, Lucas was definitely rattled and it was because of the female witnessing his meltdown. He’d worked so hard until this point to try and hide his condition from her- he’d taken his medication on time, made sure he’d got enough sleep and even cut down on his alcohol intake. Hell, he hadn’t cut it out fully, but he needed at least one vice.

Lucas’s body remained stiff, not accepting her touch, for the first minute of her lying on the bed. Eventually though, he turned and buried his face into her neck and his chest pressed against hers. The shudders and trembles which ran through his body were enough to shake her too. Small gasps left his throat and his heart fluttered rapidly. ‘E-Erica,’ he breathed, his fingers digging slightly into her hips as he tried to move even closer to her.

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Meanwhile, Erica had been oblivious. She was more observant that others, due to the nature of her job and a lifetime of looking for her opposition’s flaws, their Achilles’ heels. She should have noticed, but Lucas had given her no reason to until now. Perhaps over time she had fallen too slack around him, too comfortable. They spent time together more often now than ever before, both during working hours and the spaces between. Later, she would wonder how he had managed to keep such a secret from her when she was always there, helping herself to his things. 

For now, there were more pressing matters at hand. Most times when Lucas tried to cuddle her after sex, she would pull away. She never wanted to spoon or anything similar unless she’d be the one to initiate such contact and although he didn’t seem to be happy, he respected it. Now he clung on so tight it was slightly difficult to breathe, and she couldn’t hide her alarm so well. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Carefully, she combed her fingers through his hair. “You’re alright.”

[s-cottyhartford-blog]

Alcohol is said to be a truth serum, something with a far higher success rate than particular medicines or at least that’s what the wasted youth of today would claim. Scotty, on the other hand, had more tolerance for general substances and it took more than a few half bottles of whisky, gin and whatever else that’d continuously landed in his cup to have him crying about his dead hamster from fourth grade. That wasn’t to say that he was an open book, in fact, he had plenty to hide and avoid but he was locked up far more securely than the average person. How he presented himself, however, he was mediocre at best.

“You’re lying,” he muttered to himself, feeling personally attacked by the ‘evil’ security lady. The shift in expression was too obvious not to notice as his previous brutish show had simmered into a restrained resentment. He had little energy to preserve the one-sided feud, however, and he simply watched as she disposed of his solo cup. “Where are we going?” He stood motionless, looking as if he’d just woken up from a rough night’s sleep. “You should come soak in a distillery with me. We can be the same, you and I. Let’s settle our differences. But you’ll have to be naked, the distillery guy says.”

[ericaperalta-blog1]

By the end of her shift, perhaps Erica would seek out her own measure of whiskey to soothe away the day’s events. Of course, by then it would be light up, and the true task would be managing to stay awake in the shower before collapsing into bed for a few hour’s nap. It was easy to believe that it was all fun and games working on the moving tour, and perhaps for people like him, it was. Certainly there was no responsibility, other than ensuring to show up for your set on time -- and even then, most of the acts didn’t bother to do that. There were times when she wondered how much it’d take for the whole system to slip into anarchy, if the absence of the vendors or the security or the acts would cause the most trouble. 

Right now, there was only one individual who was at the root of her strife. “We’re going to get a statement from you.” Why she was even bothering to reply to him seemed useless, and the sole reason she hadn’t restrained the boy too was because of her distaste at the idea of actually touching him. That disgust was apparent on her face in response to his suggestion, however much it had been in jest or not. “We could not be the same,” she insisted. She placed herself on a certain plateau, and it was much higher than his. “The distillery guy says that, right? Does he happen to be a Sasquatch with a mop for hair and an ego the size of a continent?” She eyed him pointedly. “Walk faster.”

[s-cottyhartford-blog]

Simple-mindedly, the most devastating part of the encounter had to have been the sacrifice of his booze mix. As he’d landed facing the opposite direction of his opposition, he could see the bent solo cup sadly spilling its blood and feeding the soil. It was probably worse than losing his prized turtle. Collecting himself from his short-lived sorrows, Scotty sat up upon noting a familiar voice. He turned, and suddenly it was as if punishment came in the form of an obnoxiously intruding security staff.

“Well look who’s come to rescue me.” Slowly and steadily, he eventually got to his feet as someone else assisted him from behind. It was an excessive effort, however, as Scotty had already caught his balance and in full height, towered over his help. But that didn’t deter them from keeping him restrained. “Hey—I’m not even the bad guy here. I’m the good guy.” Tiredly, he looked towards the female security personnel. “Sofia Vergara, tell them. I’m the good guy. I wouldn’t steal people’s shit, especially after breaking and entering a bus. Hypothetically.”

[ericaperalta-blog1]

The guy she’d restrained had clearly not taken kindly to being shown up by a girl; that much was indicative by the abuse he spat out, mostly into the dirt. His girlfriend wasn’t appreciative of another woman on top of him either and overall, the entire ordeal was more irritating than anything else. Perhaps it was a blessing of some sort that Scotty was there for her to vent any frustration into; then again, the more he spoke, the more she was sure she was simply grasping at straws. Everything about him only seemed to amplify her disgruntlement and she stood once the other security guard had hauled the guy up. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, voice just as blank as her expression. Their last encounter had led to some heated words on her part, and she was determined not to let him get under her skin. “And you smell like you’ve been soaking in a distillery, ugh.” Erica reached down to pluck his fallen cup from the soil and disposed it in the bin only meters away. “As much as I’d love to leave you here for someone else to maim you, you need to come with me.”

[masonstaylor]

The more time droned on, the more Mason began to realize how little he knew about this foreign land and how poor of a job he was doing to notice it’s little quirks.  For instance, the dust covering his body had gone completely unnoticed.  It was a shame too.  He had walked out of his bus two hours ago with a clean, white shirt on.  It was now closer to tie dye.  He wouldn’t have noticed this if it wasn’t for Erica to point it out.  When she did he frowned, sighed, and groaned.  Mason really hated doing laundry, but he also really hated wearing pink. 

“Fuck this place.” He pouted, in his natural over dramatic way.  He either spoke in monotones or in ridiculous fashions.  There was no in between.  “Level 7?  What does that mean? Please teach me this mysterious security lingo.” 

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Erica was less averse to the notion of getting dirty; her job involved a significant amount of time wrestling aggressive individuals to the ground, regardless of the spilled alcohol, piss or puke that was often distributed so generously. At least here, despite the heat and the wind, the sand would eat up the fans ‘contributions’. She had not avoided the fate his clothes had suffered; Erica’s t-shirt was stained, and she lifted the hem to wipe her face clean. 

“Doesn’t exactly fit your aesthetic, huh?” Her gaze grazed his jeans, his boots. The thought of being so wrapped up was enough to make her sweat. “Once we get to Washington, you’ll feel right at home.” The yelling picked up and Erica took a step forward, ready to act. “Sorry, can’t. You have to be in the club to know all the vocab and you’re too skinny.”

[lucasreid-rpg-blog]

It took fully grown men effort to lift Lucas. In the gym, if they used weight in resistance training, he was always the last picked to partner up with. By the end of the session, his poor partner would be dripping with sweat and aching from trying to hoist all 6'5 of Lucas over his shoulder. For this reason, Lucas would never know how Erica managed to drag, coax and threaten him to not only stand up, but to move (with her support) onto her bus.

His whole body was still trembling when she left to fetch him some water. Rolling onto his side, he scrambled around in his pockets searching for his tablets. Finding the packet, he quickly slipped two under his tongue before she entered the room. He’d take a gulp from the glass of water and she would be none the wiser. Pushing the packet back into his trousers, he lay back against her pillow and stared at the ceiling. ‘Fuck,’ he muttered under his breath.

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Erica wasn’t the caring sort. That wasn’t to say she didn’t care about anyone, or even that she was incapable of it at all; rather, it wasn’t not in her nature to be nurturing. She was the one who always knew what to do though, the girl who kept a level head even when the crowds were roaring and singing Viva La Revolution with their bottles and fists at whatever poor act was on stage. She poured the water for him, brought it back and stood topless as she watched him drain the glass, and she went through the motions then, seeming so much surer than she actually was 

“Okay. Move up.” She waited until he’d shifted a little for climbing into bed with him, unclasping her bra on the way. Skin to skin contact always helped whenever she was having a bad trip, even if she was feeling too hot for her own body. “Turn over and I can hold you,” she was bossy even then, trying to spoon him.

[mackenzierichards]

Mac listened to Erica with interest, her attention captured by the brunette’s passion on the subject. “I kinda see what you mean, but it isn’t for me,” she said, eating another mouthful of her food then pushing the box away. “I haven’t sampled much dick here,” she admitted, stretching out and putting her arms behind her head. “Stay away from the Peakys. Go for some Animo or Chancellor dick,” she said, mentally thinking through the people she knew on the tour.She felt too protective of her own band to put them forward. “I guess you could try Em or Luke, but they’re not really your type.”

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Erica nodded, turning back to her food. Whilst she had been bred for the fight from the beginning, she understood there was little use trying to persuade someone to share your passion. Interest, yes -- Mac had queried about some offensive/defensive moves before and Erica had been happy to show her, but it was impossible to rouse the same level of enthusiasm in another. That was entirely dependent on them. It was even different when it came to something as primal as sex. “Animo or Chancellor,” she repeated, considering the options presented. “Everyone on this tour is a vampire,” she said decisively. Erica’s usual type was rather predictable: dark haired, tanned, tall and muscular. “I’d pick up a fan but they’ve been real dicks lately.”

[cadaudio-blog]

Shit is just happening so fast that Cad is still thinking about the unconscious guy backstage when Erica raced out. Widening her eyes in disbelief, she looked at her phone’s clock. “Ten minutes,” she muttered to herself, how long her shift had left. Doing her best to catch up, she was still slightly behind when caught up. “I’ve got time. Don’t you think the hotdog dude’s kinda cute?” Her voice still had a ring of nervousness to it. 

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Right now, everything’s a sensory experience and Erica feels so connected to it all; the sights, the sounds, the taste. It’s lucky for Cad that she even picks up on what she says -- her voice is feather-soft and it’s hard to hear past all the colours. “That one?” She points right at him and waits for the girl’s affimative nod. “Let’s go say hi.”

[theghostnikita-blog]

“No shit. Still think I’d let the heat kill me first, too lazy to do it myself.” Blue was too tired and too uncomfortable to process sarcasm. The sun was beating down on him like he was some kind of drum, there was little shade and the tour bus’ air con was crap — he could feel the beginning embers of a headache at the back of his skull. “Yeah, I saw that movie.” He considered, glancing around and nodding in agreement, “I see your point. Kind of reminds me of Mad Max.”

[ericaperalta-blog1]

“Not seen it.” As much as fighting films and comic books were her forte, Erica’s love of the action genre did not extend its generosity as far as car movies. She could appreciate a nice ride, had once let a girl key one of the band member’s who’d fucked her over and let her go free, but the idea of dedicating several hours of her time to a plot focused on one long stretch of road didn’t appeal to her. “Maybe you should take your bus for a spin. See if going two hundred an hour creates a nice breeze.”

[mackenzierichards]

“Forever? How long is that?” Mac asked, her eyebrows raised. She personally hadn’t had sex with someone in a couple of months. She’d kissed plenty of people and molested one or two but nothing truly satisfying and sating. Actual sex was something Mac held back on a little more for reasons she couldn’t explain. “You wrestle people in genuine seriousness. I wrestle them as foreplay that I fully intend on losing.” Mac ate another few mouthfuls of her food before continuing. “Like, I don’t see the point in wrestling to win. If I want to win against a guy, I can punch them hard enough in the balls.”

[ericaperalta-blog1]

"I don't lose." It was a comment carelessly made, mostly in jest, but there was some truth to it. Erica was the type who was born with the drive to excel; perhaps not academically, even though her teachers had all claimed she possessed the brains to, but rather in what she chose to invest interest in. "It's the competition. The rush you get when you win -- fuck, sometimes just from even competing in a really tight fight. Playing dirty just sullies that." She ate a few mouthfuls before speaking again. "Recommend me some dick to pursue."

[lucasreid-rpg-blog]

He shook his head limply from side to side, but sank down onto the floor, sitting with his back against the bus. He didn’t answer her straight away, it felt as though his brain had slowed down. Instead of moving at normal rate, everything had a ten second delay. ‘Nothing…’ he breathed. It was a vicious cycle: Lucas needed medication to control his seizures during the night, but he was unable to sleep because of a side-effect of the tablets - night terrors.

A glazed look fell onto Lucas’ features as he recalled his latest nightmare and his eyes seemed to see right through her. Unresponsive, Lucas’ eyes swept from left to right, right over the spot where she was, but he still didn’t see her. All he could see was his nightmares. Thirty seconds passed before whatever had taken over him lifted. His eyes came back into focus and fixed on her face. ‘I need to sleep…’

[ericaperalta-blog1]

It wasn't as if Erica would go as far as to admit she was worried. Whilst he may not have been calm and collected, she certainly fit the criteria -- and in carrying on with said reputation intact, it would've been contradictory if she was worried about anything. Still, perhaps if he'd been with it he would've spotted the signs: her expression, caught between surprise and concern. If he was with it, however, there'd be no change in her to take note of in the first place.

"C'mon. Up you get." With some manoeuvring, she managed to ease Lucas from his slumped perch and back to her bus. It was nothing short of a miracle when she deposited him onto her bed, the sweat beading at her brow a combination of heat and effort. "Up." She pulled his shirt off and knelt down to unlace his shoes, removing her own after. "Lie down. I'm gonna get you some water."

[s-cottyhartford-blog]

For what it was worth, the latest altercation hadn’t exactly been Scotty’s fault. Sure, he may have granted reason for it but the first punch didn’t come from his fists. He’d been hovering about, haunting the grounds cyclically with a deadly mix of hard liquor in his hand, minding his own business. The rotating swings were to blame for his only upchuck, hindering his journey momentarily before he’d gargled the vile taste out with more alcohol and continued on his way. Until now, he’d entertained a small band of vendors, accepted some fan’s number and won himself a small plush turtle which he’d ended up losing, probably swallowed up by the red earth. He’d been trying for a replacement, adamantly centered on winning the Ring Toss before someone had approached him from the side. It seemed only polite to reciprocate her flirting, eventually curling his hand around her own to assist in the game. Before he could win another turtle back, a force had tugged him violently from behind and grounded him with a sucker punch. Without thinking, Scotty tackled the male to the ground before his inebriation failed him, ending up cheek to soil as a kick launched at his back.

[ericaperalta-blog1]

All had been quiet so far and unlike her colleagues, Erica was not grateful for it. It was the calm before the storm and if anything, that put her on alert more so than before. She’d never been able to stay still without a high, and right then she was pacing for the sake of pacing, glaring up at men twice her size, taking note of those who would stir up trouble later. There were some in security who believed they were part of Obama’s fucking protective forces, invoking punishment regardless of how small the offence. Erica, despite the attitude she gave off, was more relaxed. It was a festival, after all -- there was bound to be drinking, fucking, pill-popping and more. Her concern was centered on violence and vulnerability, breaking up the fights before they got going and protecting the people who’d put themselves in the situation where they couldn’t independently. 

It was for those reasons that she was hardly surprised when the first fight broke out. Despite the size of both men involved and the gawking crowd that had gathered, she pushed her way through and incapacitated the attacker with a swipe to his ankles and restrained him on the ground with ease. However, a glance to the side made her wish she’d let the guy just maul the other instead. “Get up,” she said roughly to Scotty, just as another security personnel came to assist.

[ericaperalta-blog1]

It can be awfully bewildering to discover you are in fact a teenage girl. That’s what I get for stealing alcohol from a whisky drinking grandfather.

[fridanovas-blog]

Wow, stealing from an old man? You’re a terrible person, old people should be loved. Haven’t you ever seen Up?

[ericaperalta-blog1]

It's okay, my grandpa's Mexican. He prefers tequila.

[mackenzierichards]

“Swooping tits? Sounds like a type of bird,” Mac remarked before shoving another fork full of food into her mouth. “I’ll show you my tits at some point and you can tell me what type they are.” Kenzie was generally very open with her body. As soon as they’d entered the warmer climates she’d stripped off a considerable amount of layers. She didn’t mind nudity with the people she was comfortable with - her bandmates could testify to that. While she didn’t have full on sex very often, she was open with most of that as well. The only rule that really existed was don’t fuck the people in your band. While everyone else on this tour broke that rule daily, Young Pines seemed to stick to it pretty well. The rule had never been said outloud but it seemed to hang in the air between them occasionally. “People punch you in the tit? that’s raw,” Mac returned her attention to the conversation after temporarily dropping into her head for a moment, probably leaving a strange silence in the process. It was common occurence for her. 

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Erica didn't mind Mac's lapses of silence. They were nice intervals, really, punctuation for the conversation; they gave her time to breathe. She was a far more physical being than most, but that wasn't to say that she couldn't get caught up in her own thoughts. Mostly those thoughts had been ambitions, flights of fancy limited to the realms of her mind back at home that had come true from the magic carriage of a sweltering food truck. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," her voice lilted in teasing sing-song and she stabbed a prawn and chewed slowly. "I haven't actually had sex in... forever." 'Forever' to Erica was perhaps different to anyone else; she enjoyed the physicality of a good fuck and nothing more, treated it as she would any other workout. It was another thing she was unafraid to admit, saw no real purpose about being prudish for the sake of it when you enjoyed something. "Sometimes. It hurts more when I floor them."

[lucasreid-rpg-blog]

He gave a short laugh when she told him that he still looked shit. Erica was never one to mince her words. ‘Thanks,’ he mumbled, drying his face on his t-shirt. He must look bad though, because he’d had days before where he’d felt off and she hadn’t noticed. His hands were trembling slightly as they walked out of the tent and towards her bus. The music was still pounding in the background; if he had been a little more with it, Lucas would have realised that she was coaxing him back towards the buses so he could rest.

'Just bad dreams,’ he shrugged, but horror seized his gut at the thought of the terrors that haunted his sleep this week. 'My bunk might be small but it’s cosy. A bit like a burrow.’ His feet felt heavy the further they walked, but he kept trudging along. 'Erica,’ he said. 'I just need-’ he just needed a break for a moment, the trembling had now spread to his knees. Leaning against a neighbouring bus, he rest his head against the cool metal. ’-A minute.’ He stood there in the silence, counting his heartbeat.

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Lucas wasn’t cool or composed, no matter how hard he may have tried to be on occasion. He had the look down, although she wouldn’t admit it. She’d watched him carefully groom his beard before in a mirror at the kitchen table because the bathroom on the bus was far too cramped, style his hair, and although she called him out on his vanity, he certainly knew how to play up his good looks. That at least she could respect; there was a pride that you had to take in your body when you’d worked hard enough to yield such physicality, even if it was a pride often mistaken as arrogance.

The point was, Lucas wasn’t cool or collected, but she’d certainly never seen him like this before. He could hold his liquor better than she could (at 6'5, it would’ve been a crime if he couldn’t) and she had to wonder what had happened for him to be in such a state. “Hey, sit down.” She stepped forward, and if there was concern in her voice, it was merely a coincidence for worry over something else. “Lucas, what did you take?” She touched his face with cool hands and found his cheeks clammy.

[mackenzierichards]

“My tits are pretty great,” Mac said through a mouthful of food. She stretched her pale legs out in front of her, exposed in the tiny shorts she’d been wearing around all day. Her legs bore numerous injuries from their time laid bare on the rocky terrain of Colorado. “I’ve got ‘chub’ according to instagram comments. I’ve decided that this can only be a good thing,” She opened her bottle of water and drained hlf of it in one go, pouring some onto her hands and using it to splash her face. “Boobs were intended to make sport difficult, I swear.”

[ericaperalta-blog1]

Erica checked out said tits openly, and was inclined to agree with Mac's self-proclaimed title of excellence. "You know there are technical terms for them. The shape of them, I mean. Like say for instance your nipple points up so your boob is like a ski slope. Those are called swooping." She wasn't entirely certain where she'd picked up such pointless, random information -- mostly likely browsing social media when bored. The paella was as fucking good as always, the weather was hot, and the cool breeze they'd been blessed with all hailed the start to a good day. "They always get bruised when I spar. Doesn't matter what size."