open to: anyone !
location: watercolors on the boardwalk
@mirabellastarts
whenever she could, tessa made it a habit to support community events, even ones that she hadn't helped organize and was required to show up to. while it was both good for networking and finding sources of inspiration, she loved feeling a part of mirabella. the rush of seeing old friends and meeting new acquaintances and sometimes finding new hobbies to explore all equally attractive. although tessa doubted that this hobby would end up making the list, nose wrinkling with a tinge of frustration as she studied her 'artwork'. a splash of colors dotted her paper - attempts at blooms that maybe weren't quite distinguishable even though tessa had done her best to listen to the instructions. her eyes squinted as she considered her painting, tilting it slightly to see if a different angle might be better before turning to her neighbor. "can you tell what this is? i feel like i might be verging into abstract art, and that's being generous." while she'd dabbled in acrylics and aided in graphic design for event posters and invitations, she hadn't quite figured out how to deal with the more fluid, malleable medium of watercolors. it wasn't quite the relaxing event she'd hoped for, even as she'd done her best to quell her perfectionist tendencies and leave the painting as it was rather than trying to fix it. "how's yours turning out? are you having more luck?"
it was all going so horrendously bad — he couldn’t have been more grateful for tessa offering him a temporary out. paintbrush clattering to the front of the easel, he leaned over to have a good, long look at what she had created. “a representation of your feelings seems a little too on the nose,” he mused, mirth drawing the corners of his lips into a sympathetic smile, “it’s cool! really. i like the colors you chose.” hardly the person to go to for art critique, at least not in this medium. he picked up the corner of his piece and held it up, showing it off for what it was; misshapen blobs with long tails of color that have warped into an even more misshapen blob at the bottom. he dropped his voice to a loud whisper, laughter shaking his voice as he added, “they really just let anyone come to these things, don’t they?” steadying his canvas and picking his brush back up, he nodded to her work-in-progress appreciatively. “i do like yours. reminds me of, like, a funky meadow.”
"The grind never stops!" Birdie teased, making more room for Taylor to join her. "I'm planning this game for my class to play during the last week of school... it's Jeopardy, basically, to test them on what we've learned this year, but still have fun!" She was going a bit overboard with her questions, but she wasn't planning on bombarding her students with all of them. She just had to narrow it down later. Birdie perked up at the mention of a fresh coffee and a scone, but she deflated when she looked at her watch. "Probably not a coffee... I'll be up all night if I drink any more caffeine today." She'd already had her usually 3 cups. "But we could split a scone, I won't say no to that!" She smiled at Taylor. "And then I can quiz you to see if you're smarter than a 1st grader..." Birdie waggled her brows teasingly.
“that’s sick, birdie.” he pores over written questions with earnest fascination. “y’know, i think, statistically, odds are at least one of them’ll end up on the real deal show one day. they’ll look back to you as the one who started it all.” there’s not nearly as much order to taylor’s workday as this - in fact, the coffee at his side is his only hope to make it to the evening, when his own workday begins. “alright, okay. but if you find yourself up all night anyway,” he nudges her in the side with the ball of his elbow, “i’ll be around.” he shifts in his seat, turning to face her as he reclines against the back of the couch. settling in, getting cozy in anticipation of a challenge. “i have one coming in a few. you’ll get first bite if i don’t get the first question right.” as if unable to sit still for more than a minute, he scoops up a highlighter and flicks the cap off and on absentmindedly. “do your worst."
Birdie's usual organized chaos was scattered around her, taking up half a leather couch and a table at the local coffee shop. School was nearly out, but there were still a few things she needed to do for her class of first graders. She wanted to send them off to second grade on a high and make sure they remembered how much fun they had in her class. Birdie liked working in public because she'd usually see someone she could talk to, and Birdie loved talking to people. She never minded sharing her space, even if someone didn't want to chat, so when she saw someone approach from the corner of her eye, she looked up with a smile. "Oh, hi," Birdie quickly grabbed up her colorful papers and things to make room. "Please, join me!" She smiled widely. "Ignore the chaos, I'm like a colorful tornado blowing through..."
what’s better than popping into the cafe for a pick-me-up americano and coming across a pick-me-up in human form? taylor struggles to think … and then doesn’t bother to, taken now with dropping into birdie’s space with a grin to match. “damn, birdie,” spills past his lips, lithe with admiration, “i don’t think there’s any ignoring this. aren’t they supposed to be going on summer break soon? aren’t you?” there’s, obviously, no real malice in his tone. he clears a small corner of the table and sets his takeaway cup there — might as well get comfortable, huh? curiosity pushes him to pick up a small stack of notes, rifling through like he has any notion of where it’s meant to go or what it’s meant to be. “of course you have good handwriting. what’re you working on? anything i can help with?” stack set down, but taylor leans forward where he sits and continues to peruse with his eyes. out the side of his mouth, he asks, “can i get you a fresh coffee or something? they have those scones you like - one left in the display, from what i saw.”
khadija found that early morning farmers market runs always made her feel more human. she spent so much time at the tide building, or at her desk, and so getting out and breathing fresh salty-sea water air made her remember how alive she was. there a lot of things about mirabella that khadija could complain about, living here all of her life, she has a grievance or two, but weekend farmers markets were such a sweet spot. she's got a tote bag that is far too big for her thrown over her shoulder, and there's already far too many punnets of blueberries in it, her favorite of all the berries. she's standing in front of a selection of breads, mouth already watering, when she let's out a theatatrical huff of breath "okay, i can't decide, garlic and rosemary or sun-dried tomato and mozzrella? this is life or death, as you can see."
where khadija was smart to bring a bag-too-big, vivian’s feeling the strain of having brought a bag-too-small. she adjusts the tiny net bag that hangs off the crook of her elbow, the contents inside ( a jar of hot honey and two gala apples the size of her fists ) shifting weight in her arm in a way that draws a look of disdain on her face. it’s what she’s wearing when khadija draws her attention, and vivian blinks out of this temporary discomfort to weigh the two options in her head carefully. because it is life or death, naturally. “sun-dried,” she decides after idle rumination, “and then you swing back around to the stall by the entrance, get yourself a tub of goat cheese — you’ll be golden.” inspired then, she reaches across the space to pick up one of the packaged loaves behind the display. a wry smile pulls at her lips as she adds, “and it looks like they’re selling out fast!”
——— ☀︎ no way is that VIVIAN FLICK .ᐟ rumor has it they’re TWENTY8 born on AUGUST 18TH, a true LEO .ᐟ seems like they've been in mirabella for TWO YEARS, working as a TATTOO ARTIST AT RIOT TATTOOS. i’ve seen them around SEABROOK POINT lately; they're notoriously known for being GUARDED & OVER-ANALYTICAL but some people have seen them being CREATIVE & DIRECT when the island is quiet and the ferries stop running .ᐟ if you ask me, they remind me a lot of TOO MANY TRINKETS HANGING OFF A SET OF KEYS, A BULGING JUNK JOURNAL, LOOSE PENS AND THE MARKS THEY MAKE IN ONE’S BAG, just keep an eye on them & see if their true colours shine through .ᐟ
[ I . ] BASICS
full name: vivian ramona flick
nicknames: vivian, viv, vivvy
age: twenty-eight
gender: ciswoman
birthday: august 18th
sexual & romantic orientation: panromantic pansexual
residing in: seabrook point
occupation: tattoo artist at riot
[ II . ] PHYSICAL EXAM
faceclaim: jayme lawson
voice: northern california accent. speaks very carefully, in a higher pitch with somebody new. when comfortable with someone, voice drops to natural tone.
eye color: dark brown
hair color: brown-black
body type: slim, toned
distinguishable marks: some dainty tattoos on the backs of fingers/hands. childhood playground scars on knees.
height: 5'6
[ III . ] NON-PHYSICAL EXAM
mental illnesses: general anxiety disorder, attachment issues, mild c-ptsd
psychological profile: comes across very affable - good at asking questions and getting to know others. not so good at reciprocating. motivated by fairness first. keeps to self; becomes visibly distressed when somebody enters her space uninvited. practical to a fault - tends to dissect small problems into mush.
positive traits: creative, direct, gentle, just .
negative traits: guarded, over-analytical, keeps others at a distance, aloof .
personality type (mbti): infj
phobias: mild germaphobia
mannerisms: when in a resting state, hands are held together and fingertips tapping. looks up when answering questions, as if searching for the answer in the air. has a loud, full-body laugh - bends over and hides her face. when focused, brow furrows and tongue pokes out.
hobbies & interests: runs a letterbox'd account like the navy. collects little scraps for junk journal - is almost ready for a second journal. has a million playlists for a million moods. big fan of trivia/quiz game shows.
[ IV . ] AFFILIATIONS & RELATIONSHIPS
family: mara wilcox ( mom, deceased ), tavon flick ( dad ) - together until mara's passing. one older brother.
enemies: tba.
romantic history: has had a handful of 'serious' relationships, most ended amicably. not opposed to love, but not actively looking either.
notable friends: tba.
[ V . ] HABITS & LIFESTYLE
daily routine: is up bright and early every morning. doing better to not skip breakfast. works most days, either tattooing or drafting flash. likes to go for a drink in the evenings once in a while and people-watch. at night, is usually home alone, watching tv and doing something crafty/artsy with her hands.
grooming habits: has a quick and natural make-up routine she enjoys doing. also takes care of her hair - likes to wear it naturally with some braids for long-term ease, doesn't opt for extensions often. skincare/body care is a must.
substance use: has a drink pretty semi-regularly, only for the social aspect. is trying to quit smoking! weed makes her anxious.
aesthetics: too many trinkets hanging off a set of keys. the smell of hand sanitizer and bubblegum. a bulging junk journal. the stop and start of new songs as you skip through a playlist. loose pens and the marks they make in one's bag.
[ VI . ] BACKGROUND
tw: parental death, child taking care of parent, hoarding as a result of depression/grief
vivian was only six when her mother passed away, taken too soon by a road accident. she's long made peace with the loss, though she laments not having had the time to know her better. it's a different story for her father, who fell into a stage of grief after and never returned to himself. vivian and her older brother became self-sufficient out of necessity, though they were never close with one another as a result.
as a result of his altered state of mind and living, her father became something of a hoarder, filling the house with keepsakes of her mother first, and thereafter devolving into collecting useless, half-broken nothings. at an early age, vivian became adept at talking her father down from episodes of mania amid his hoard. a child with their palms out, voice soft, eyes beseeching. while the situation never got better, vivian and her brother survived. he left shortly after his eighteenth birthday. communication with him comes once every few years at best.
a star student, excelling in stem courses but preferring english and language arts for the freedom of expression. featured front and center at every art showcase, with teachers praising her attention to detail and clean lines.
it was difficult to make and keep friends growing up, as the disarray of her home life made vivian ashamed to let anyone in. she had people she got along with well enough, but would grow up starved for real closeness.
after graduation, vivian made the brave decision to leave home and go off on her own. she maintains contact with her father, who sought professional help after a heavy conversation on the eve of vivian's leaving. he struggles still, and vivian grapples with guilt after their phone calls - but this will be better for her in the long run.
vivian bounced around the pacific northwest for some years after securing a fine arts degree. she took up a tattoo apprenticeship in washington state after and fell in love with this facet of art and expression. some years in, becoming bored with the scenery, she opted to leave for an island off the coast - mirabella is home now.
as well as working and separating herself from the ghost of grief she'd grown up with, vivian has done extensive talk therapy over the years. she likes to think she is self-aware enough now to admit her shortcomings ( pliant, self-sacrificing, overtly forgiving ) but there is still a lot of work to be done.
relationships have proven difficult for vivian to maintain; platonic or romantic, really. chagrined to let people in, but eager to know others and observe - many of her attempts at love have ended by her own fault. partners would say she is detached and emotionally unavailable. vivian dreads to think they're right.
for the time begin, vivian lives and works alone. she is an established tattoo artist, specializing in fine line work and portraiture. she herself partakes in trinket collecting and material chaos, but does very well to keep it contained to her keychains, a junk journal, and a ludicrously capacious bag. the rest of her home and lifestyle is organized and neat. her handbag and her mind, maybe not so much.
——— ☀︎ no way is that TAYLOR BELL .ᐟ rumor has it they’re THIRTY1 born on APRIL 18TH, a true ARIES .ᐟ seems like they've been in mirabella for FIVE YEARS, working as a PIANIST AT DOROTHY’S. i’ve seen them around DRIFTWOOD lately; they're notoriously known for being FLAKEY & UNSERIOUS but some people have seen them being EARNEST & INSOUCIANT when the island is quiet and the ferries stop running .ᐟ if you ask me, they remind me a lot of A DECIDING COIN TOSS, A SYNTH BEAT PLAYING IN THE OTHER ROOM, COFFEE JITTERS, just keep an eye on them & see if their true colours shine through .ᐟ
[ I . ] BASICS
full name: taylor maxwell bell
nicknames: taylor, t
age: thirty-one
gender: cisman
birthday: april 18th
sexual & romantic orientation: homoromantic homosexual
residing in: driftwood
occupation: pianist at dorothy's piano bar
[ II . ] PHYSICAL EXAM
faceclaim: joe keery
voice: midwestern american accent. speaks at a pretty low pitch naturally, but will go a mile a minute when excited.
eye color: dark brown
hair color: medium brown
body type: slim, athletic
distinguishable marks: a smattering of freckles and moles across cheeks and neck, some small badly done and time-faded tattoos on inner biceps.
height: 5'11
[ III . ] NON-PHYSICAL EXAM
mental illnesses: undiagnosed adhd
psychological profile: excuses unreliability and aversion to practicality as creative expression. often acts on the first thought he has. does not mind apologizing when wrong, but struggles realizing and accepting he is wrong. suffocates restlessness and existential dread. needs to be moving at all times, no matter what.
positive traits: earnest, insouciant, altruistic, flexible .
negative traits: flakey, unserious, unreliable, difficult to read .
personality type (mbti): estj
phobias: mild claustrophobia
mannerisms: can usually be heard humming or singing under breath. when nervous, impossible to make eye contact with. when angry, speaks in four word sentences and tries to leave asap. when in a good mood or likes the person he's with, has trouble keeping hands to self and touches/holds hands and arms to stay grounded.
hobbies & interests: musically inclined - wont to pull out the ol' guitar and take requests. big fan of competitive card games. knows his way around a grill … regular cooking on a stove is iffier. jogs through the neighborhood every other morning.
[ IV . ] AFFILIATIONS & RELATIONSHIPS
family: donna wilkinson ( mom ), maxwell bell ( dad ) - together since they were sixteen. no siblings.
enemies: tba.
romantic history: had one long-term relationship that ended badly five years ago. only short-lived relationships and flings since then.
notable friends: tba.
[ V . ] HABITS & LIFESTYLE
daily routine: goes for a jog every other day. otherwise, has a protein bar and black coffee in the mornings/midday. puttering around the house in the afternoon or venturing into town for socialization. early dinner if working that night. works often, until the early morning hours. goes home, doesn't sleep enough, rinse and repeat.
grooming habits: spends very little time and money on primping. uses a 3-in-1 cleanser omfgggg. has a haircut once every six months.
substance use: drinks socially. doesn't smoke nic, does smoke pot recreationally. mostly to help with going to sleep.
aesthetics: a deciding coin toss. sweat glistening under colorful strobe. a synth beat playing in the other room. a movie on in the background for company. coffee jitters.
[ VI . ] BACKGROUND
tw: substance abuse mention
born and raised in chicago illinois, out in the suburbs to a couple just barely out of high school and living with roommates. they did what they could to provide - many dinners were bologna sandwiches, but taylor never went to bed hungry, at the very least.
as a kid in school, taylor's grades were enough to pass and move on to the next year. what he lacked in scholarly discipline, he made up for in people-skills, charming teachers and bouncing from clique to clique with ease. ur looking at the captain of the middle school debate team for both years 🫡
taylor's coming out was neither grand nor gray. his parents had always had an inkling, given his near-obsession for a neighborhood boy taylor had buddied up with early on. he came out to them at thirteen, expecting tears and fanfare: they just smiled, said they loved him anyway, and asked if he'd finished his homework for the evening. so. yay.
musically-inclined from a very young age, taylor learned to play the guitar by one of his parents' roommates. after that, he picked up keyboard. for fun, also learned the harmonica. after he and his parents moved into their own space, the pair procured a mini piano. taylor played everyday, all day, whatever tune came to mind.
fresh out of high school and with no desire to continue sitting in a classroom, taylor and the band he'd joined at fifteen decided to chase their joint dream of world fame. they played weddings and kids parties and shitty hole-in-the-wall bars in the city with fake id's. their sound was loud and driven, if not slightly uninspired. but they were doing the damn thing; five midwest boys, traveling around in a cramped van, dabbling in a rockstar life without the credentials but just as much heart. taylor was on the keys.
their big break came with a viral song online in the mid 2010's. the group headed out west, jumping into the lawless festival circuit. at the same time, taylor and his bandmate had fallen, like, grossly madly in love with each other. they kept it under wraps, committing to the dream louder than to each other.
with a quick rise comes a tremendous fall. arguments within the group and the tricklings of substance abuse, along with a poorly received debut album, the group began to tank. rather than pick up and try again like taylor would've liked, they disbanded unceremoniously, and high school friendships burned.
taylor's partner wanted to continue on as a two-piece, and taylor was eager to please. but the substances became a third in the relationship. taylor came home to find their partner in bed with a stranger at the tail-end of a week long bender, and, well - that was that.
years lost to love and big dreams - what to do next? taylor broke off on his own. threw a dart board at a map and found himself making new plans for mirabella island. he found work in a piano bar, keeping close to the music but in a position of control this time. he likes it well enough! likes people. likes playing for people. not entirely jaded as a person now, but there has been a shift in his demeanor; he's sorely unserious, noncommittal and difficult to read past his wry smile and tired eyes. once focused and passionate, it's kind of like going through the motions now. here for a good time, not a long time mentality, but in a way that's really fuckign annoying.
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