She looked up at the sound of his voice, attention shifting from whatever useless little task she had been pretending was enough to keep her occupied. Her gaze dropped almost immediately to the mug Santiago set between them, and something in her expression softened. Coffee had become the sort of luxury people used to complain about getting wrong. ❝I like coffee.❞ She reached for the mug, curling both hands around it as though she could steal every bit of warmth before it disappeared. ❝I’m not sure I’m still allowed to have standards about it, but I like it.❞ The corner of her mouth pulled upward before she took a cautious sip, eyes flicking back toward him over the rim. ❝Thank you. This was sweet of you.❞
She settled a little more comfortably in her seat, letting the warmth of the mug rest against her palms. ❝I do miss a good hot chocolate, though. Especially with the whipped cream.❞ A wistful little smile crossed her face at the thought. ❝The ridiculous amount, too. None of that sensible little spoonful on top.❞ Her gaze returned to him, amusement warming it. ❝So if you ever happen to find whipped cream during one of your miraculous coffee expeditions, I expect you to remember this conversation.❞
Those three simple words was all Santiago needed to hear to let his shoulder relax in the chair that he had sat in. She liked coffee, and she had followed it up with calling him sweet. For a man that was grumpy and rough all the time, it was hard for him not a crack a tiny grin. "I used to drink coffee like it was water back in the day." As if the world had crumbled to pieces years and years ago instead of two months prior. "It was the only thing that kept me going on long days at the ranch." He would be lying if he said he didn't miss it all, even the long days.
"Whipped cream was never my thing, but jeez, I do miss hot chocolate." The small crack of a grin still playing at his lips as he spoke back to her. "I miss any kind of chocolate, I think." A sweet tooth was always something that the man struggled with, a struggle because it was hard to stay away from the sweets. Now he was lucky just to have something that contained sugar. "But whipped cream, top of my list now." He pushed the mug of his own to his lips, savoring the taste for a moment. "Anything else I should be on the lookout for? I'm willing to bump a few things down my list for ya."
where: an abandoned neighborhood, ventura county
when: summer, 2 months post-outbreak, mid day
who: open to independent survivors or those scavenging in the community !
daena makes her way cautiously through some overgrown shrubbery, knife gripped tightly in her hand. she has yet to get her hands on a gun… though even then, she doesn't exactly know how to use one. she knows there's stuff like recoil to watch out for, but it'd be a hell of a lot safer to have a gun on her rather than just a knife. it's a big hunting knife but still, you gotta get close in order to use it.
she spots a lone infected making their way through the empty street, making that awful noise that infected make. it makes her stomach turn, even still.
“c'mon… get outta here already…” she mumbles under her breath. still not confident enough to just jump and take the kill, she waits.
Santiago had a mindset that there were more to find in the cars on the streets and in the driveways than there were in the houses anymore. People had panicked, shoved things into their cars before and abandoned them before they even got the chance to get out of the neighborhood due to the high traffic and chaos that pursued. He had lockpicked his way into the trunk of an older mini-van, searching through the duffle bag of what now seemed to belong to just an ordinary high school kid when he heard the noise.
It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, there was nothing that made him use to the sound of an infected. Although he couldn't say that he was scared of them anymore, Santiago didn't care about his fate. He hadn't for a long time. But when his eyes met more than the walking dead, he couldn't leave her there with a chance to die.
He moves quickly but quietly around the surrounding cars, his eyes flickering from her to the infected multiple times while trying to keep aware of the rest of the world around them too. When he's close enough to her, he waves her down to grab her attention. He nods his head towards a larger rock on the ground, he needs the dead to face away from him for the kill. "Throw it." He silent mouths to her.
𝘊𝘓𝘖𝘚𝘌𝘋 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘌𝘙 ; santiago garcia & saranya de vos.
𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌: in a community one house. @sprinkleofmuse
There was a nervousness in Santiagos step that he had never been familiar with before. He could see her sitting over there, all on her lonesome. He figured that she could use some company, it was more dangerous to be alone with your thoughts these days than to be outside the walls. Even if he would never take his own advice on that one. But he had seen her around more than a few times in the community, a few short conversations here and there and yet, he wanted the chance to have another.
Both his hands were gripped tightly on the mugs that he was holding, half a cup of coffee in each. It wasn't much to offer, but enough that it was better than having nothing. "It's still warm." A simple statement as he set it down on the table between them. His eyes darting from her to the mug he had placed then to empty chair before he slowly let himself relax in it. "I mean, if you even like coffee and shit."
Is that SANTIAGO GARCIA? Before the outbreak, the 33-year-old worked as a RANCHER. Those who have crossed paths with them describe them as BRAVE, though pressure often reveals their HARD HEADED nature. They are often associated with A WORN PHOTOGRAPH IN HIS POCKET, ALWAYS A HELPING HAND, GUILT CARRIED IN THE EYES.
NAME santiago adrian garcia. NICKNAMES santi. ZODIAC capricorn. BIRTHDAY jan 3rd. GENDER cis male. PRONOUNS he/him. PLACE OF BIRTH arizona. SEXUALITY heterosexual. OCCUPATION former rancher. ETHNICITY mexican. EYES deep brown. HAIR dark brown. HEIGHT 6'0. BUILD tall & broad, muscular. SCENT smells like black coffee and firewood. ALLERGIES none. LANGUAGES english and spanish. HOBBIES whittling toys from wood for the kids, watching weather patterns, reading western novels, keeping a journal nobody can read, gardening, fighting with himself, feeding wildlife when scavenging HABITS quieting sings while cooking, almost never sleeps through the night, gets up before the sun does, wears the same hat and silver chain everyday, leans against doorframes instead of sitting, keeps an old family photo tucked his front jean pocket, calls people "kid", "sir", and "ma'am". ALIGNMENT chaotic neutral. ELEMENT earth.
BEFORE THE OUTBREAK —
trigger warnings death
santiago garcia was born on a rainy day to ranch hands in arizona.
he was an animal person since the day that he was born, always wanting to be helping out where he could in the barns on the farm. the owners of the place never minded him and he basically grew up in the place.
when he was 8, his baby sister, lucia was born. with his parents busy work life, it was up to santiago to take care of her and he did.
the two of them were side by side for their entire childhood, until the accident when lucia was 10 and santiago was 18. he had been saving up every paycheck he got so that he could buy two horses, one for him and one for his baby sister. lucia wanted to help him, but being just a kid she didn't have very many ideas on how. she ended up trying to clean out animal stalls on her own one evening, thinking she'd show how useful she could be and get paid for more work around the ranch.
santiago was the one that found her that night when calling her in to go home for dinner. she had fallen from a ladder inside the barn while trying to reach some buckets and hadn't survived the tumble.
it changed a lot of things inside of santiago to lose his little sister like that and finding reasons to be happy seemed pointless.
he ended up staying at the same ranch his parents worked on, unable to leave her behind.
AFTER THE OUTBREAK —
santiago didn't really know about what was happening in the world until hell had already broken loose. he liked his life more off the grid and when you spend more time with animals than you do people, news doesn't travel as fast.
there wasn't much that he needed to take with him when it came time to leave the ranch. he set all the animals free, except for one. taking his backpack and his horse and traveling west, photograph of him and his kid sister tucked inside his front pocket.
if it wasn't for the outbreak, santiago would have spent his life alone and he would have liked it that way. but inside of the quiet and often grumpy persona he has, there is a softness that can't stand by and watch people fall. not again.
he does what he can to help, anything that is work, he takes it. santiago stays as busy as possible, idle hands were never his thing. but even in the crowd, he has a hard time not finding himself alone still.
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