CHANTAL PAHURIRAY, TWENTY, SERVER @ BOOD BOOD / STUDENT @ NSFDBSMS. hey, boy. how you doing? don't want to say the typical hello, so let me get to the point: every day is so boring if you don't understand me. don't look for the old me, baby, 'cause i'm reborn as a new me. they say that i'm selfish, but what can i do? let me set off the fireworks in your heart.
VIVOREE ESCLITO, 20, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER, HETEROSEXUAL, MUSE A + D1 ˚⁀༄ؘ ˑ i just saw CHANTAL PAHURIRAY today. they seem so EBULLIENT, don’t they? SHE can be so FRIVOLOUS, but they’re not all bad. SHE can be so INSIGHTFUL too. they’re a pretty good SERVER AT BOODLE BOODLE GANG/UNIVERSITY STUDENT too, right?
EXTRA! 【 aes: hanging on to old rhinestone hair clips; wide eyes and wide grins concealing a tumultuous mind; a pack of dried mangoes. 】
date of birth: july 24, 2000
ethnic background: filipino ( bisaya )
height: a cute 5′2″
natural hair colour: black
natural eye colour: black
biography:
like many filipinos, chantal pahuriray was born into a poor family. their poverty was not abject, yet it was poverty nonetheless. chantal was a bright kid, and her family believed that with enough diligence, they could make gold out of chantal’s brains.
when one of her relatives moved to england to work, however, chantal pretty much said “fuck it.” who cares about hard work when you could take the shortcut?
not that living in england meant chantal would suddenly begin living large. yet despite the modesty, plainness even, of her new home, it’s leagues better than her past condition.
chantal seems like a perfectly positive, happy young woman. but deep inside, she is terribly desperate to cling to this new standard of living. she’s quite a passionate fan of pop groups from home and other places in asia, and she’s a fantastic musician herself: a talented songwriter, a good singer, a competent player of a few instruments. she will not focus on music, however. she will focus on her studies, and then maybe later she’ll become a doctor or architect.
whatever it is, she won’t be poor again. there’s a lot of veritable trauma and unhealthy coping mechanisms beneath chantal’s shiny, bright surface.
but what can she do except take life day by day? despite everything, there’s lots of genuine cheer that chantal finds and brings to this flawed earth.
“Damn. I mean, I should’ve thought so, Miss Popular,” Ezra said, chuckling softly. He did seem quite pleased when the young woman admitted she cared for him. “Well–would it make you feel better if I put more paint on you?” He still had leftover paint on his hands, so he reached up to cup Chantal’s cheeks gently, spreading the paint. “This is the best part of the festival, right? We’re basically making art.”
She found herself immensely grateful that the marching band’s trumpets and glockenspiels drowned out whatever embarrassing noise she could’ve made in that moment. “Umm...” She tried to stay in place, act cool as he was spreading paint on her face. “Sure, sure, to you it is. I mean, there’s some of my favourite food, umm... pinaypay. It’s like, banana fritter shaped into a hand fan. It’s really delicious, and, umm... you know me, I like eating. You like art. So I guess it’s subjective.” Her saving grace was that he seemed to be utterly oblivious to the feelings of those around him. She was certain that at least two of his neighbours were, like, in love with him or something, but he appeared to be oblivious to both, so at least she could count on that.
❛ i don’t even- ❜ she pauses for a moment, hardly realizing that she’s found herself in the midst of a battle, with now proper colors upon her face, nearly shocked by the girl’s precision. ❛ no, no hard feelings of course. i just hope that these colors suit my complexion. what do you think, great artista? ❜
“honestly, all colours would suit someone as pretty as you. but me, personally? i really love jewel tones,” answered chantal. “remember that era where everybody and their dog was draining the colour out of everything? like every single music video would be pastel, almost monochrome but not quite, and the insta filters would have faded hues too. i’m glad we grew sick of that. i love bright hues.” she gestured to the cobalt blue paint on her fingers. “imagine if i tried to smother you with a dull shade of spruce blue. so boring.”
“woah! careful there.” he barely had time to move when a hand swiped up and across his chin. divesh didn’t have to check to know that was paint on his face, and he chuckled. growing up with siblings certainly made you used to these sudden attacks. “ah, you got me! I’m glad green is my colour. where did you get the paint?”
“just go over there,” said chantal, pointing. but then she saw that the crowds were covering the booths. “oh, well... i guess the options you have right now are fight or flight: fight for some paint or run for your life.” the girl freely admitted, “i’m a bit of a coward, but it is pretty cathartic to fight some people. in the philippines, though we have many languages, there’s a universal term for this kind of thing. we call it bardagulan.” she laughed at the word. “‘bardagulan is good in small doses,’ i say while hoping you’re not secretly part of the fbi. or, wait, what’s the uk equivalent of the fbi?” she’d been here for years, but her knowledge of things related to the ole great britain and northern ireland wasn’t perfect.
Ezra liked Chantal, she was always so sweet and pleasant to talk to whenever they passed each other in the hallways or when he ate at Boodle Boodle. She was definitely a little awkward around him for some reason, but he liked being around her, anyway. He released another laugh, shaking his head. “Wow, fellow resident, huh?” he said in a teasing tone of voice. “I thought we were friends, Chantal. I’m pretty wounded.”
“I have lots of friends...,” she replied. “I just lose track sometimes ‘cause of the sheer abundance.” Which wasn’t necessarily true, but he didn’t need to know that. “Anyway, I really am sorry. Attacking people with paint is only fun when I don’t care about them as individuals. I guess, as my fellow resident, you’re someone for whom I reserve a bit of care.”
her eyes were so transfixed on the dancers ahead of her , locked in on the bodies moving perfectly in sync , their movements so dynamic and different than anything she’d seen before . she itched to join in . so transfixed , in fact , that she had almost forgotten to light her lantern and prepare to release it into the sky with the various other sources of light . she cast a glance around her , finally landing on a familiar face , ’ hi ! ‘ winnie greeted nervously, her paper lantern billowing beside her as she crossed to them , ’ would you maybe want to light this with me ? '
chantal snorted. not to make fun of her or anything, but because of the items in her hand. “you’re in luck: i brought a whole ‘bouquet’ of candles.” she’d gotten lazy that day with her light source. but she was often so hard at work, she thought she owed it to herself to have a lazy day. “come here, let’s light that lantern up.”
❝ oh – ? ❞ her automatic reaction was to dazzle her head back whilst laughing as she realized her cheek was now marked with a streak of paint . ❝ i think it’s only fair that i get you back , no ? ❞ she gave a playful look as she transferred the excess paint to her finger and danced it in front of chantal .
“wait!” replied the younger woman, though it sounded more like WAaAaiIiIiTtT! “oh my gosh, you’re that famous actress, aren’t you?” in all honesty, she was not that big a fan of jini woo, but it was still pretty amazing to be able to casually run into stars like this. the closest thing to a star that she’d met back home was probably that one morissette amon impersonator in cebu. not even the real singer. “yes, please! but can we please record you painting my face? omg, a marvel actress! can i take a selfie with you?”
“Oh, bloody–!” Ezra let out a laugh when he was being smacked with the face-paint. When he realized that it was Chantal, he couldn’t help but smile wide. “You’re about to regret that, c’mere you!” he exclaimed, reaching out with his own handful of face to get Chantal.
Normally, she would play along and run for her life as the other prepared for retaliation. When she realised it was Ezra, however, she could hear Beyoncé beginning to croon ‘Halo’ in her ear, and she was practically frozen. She stammered, “Shit, uh, Ezra, I’m so sorry!” He may have been a mere three years older than she was, but Chantal’s embarrassing unrequited crush on the man made her feel like a little girl again. So small and pathetic. She fumbled while reaching for the sanitiser in her pocket. “Do you want me to wipe that off you? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be doing this to a fellow resident....”
availability: open to everybody attending saulug week!
( note: chantal can hit or miss your muse. it’s 100% up to you! )
the simple phrase becomes a battle cry: “no hard feelings!” chantal tries to smother the other person’s face with the face-paint on her nimble fingers. with a laugh, she cranes to look at them, seeing if her attempt to smear them with paint was effective.