NEON TIGER!

a part of charmingrp.

[neontigrr]

nej —

Nej gave her a small scoff as he took a sip from the bottle. “ So now you know what I need?” his tone almost playful as he pulled his gaze away from her. The answer to his question was a loaded one he was sure, considering that she was his ex. The fact that they could be so close at all– didn’t surprise him. If anything he was grateful. Nat remained an important figure in his life; there was something very comforting in the fact that he didn’t have to try so hard when it came to her. Nej wasn’t a talker, even his sister had fussed at him about opening up to people. Making genuine connections – this was easier said then done of course. He didn’t doubt that own unwillingness being part of the reason why  they were no longer together– among other reasons. Funny, they weren’t a couple that he found himself sharing more than he did in the past. Only confirming in his mind the fact that them being this– friends, was the best choice. 

“You say that I would have to kick you out but let’s face it, you wouldn’t go even if I did.” the barest hint of a smirk played at the corners of his lips. His eyes trained on her form as she circled the slab of wood currently on the work bench. “ It’s a live wood edge bar top with a glass river going through it …once I get the glass.” Nej leaned back on his elbows, Watching her finger glide across the  surface of the wood. “ Careful, the last thing I want is to have to hear you cry about a splinter like last time.” 

she liked this. it was harder and harder for her to admit when things were good enough that she could actually allow herself to enjoy something — even harder if the enjoyment came from the company of her ex, even despite the diplomatic, relatively good way things had ended. but maybe that was the trick — nej knew about all the ways she’d sabotage herself and her happiness, and somehow the need to justify herself having a good time could subside. in her mind, sharing laughs with him could translate to making up for the unpleasantness that had stained their relationship — whatever was left of it, anyway. “fuck off”, natalie protested, a half-outraged grimace on her lips as she furrowed her brows. “i didn’t cry. i just got under my nail, that hurt”. shaking her head, she returned to admire the wood, spotting patterns that she would no doubt end up recreating in her drawings. even this: the mindless banter, the back and forth, was something she was grateful for. easier than when they’d been together, certainly leaving a better feeling behind when it left. 

stepping away, natalie took a sip of her juice while still maintaining her eyes (mesmerized, something so endlessly fascinating about the way he could carve art out of wood) on the work bench, an arm folded across her chest. “you know, i could use a new table for the dustland”, the neck of the bottle tapping agains ther lips, she let her eyebrows perk up in a suggestive smirk. “and my birthday’s in two months, so….” 

[neontigrr]

ro —

Rowan sat on nat’s couch, legs criss crossed, and her abdomen curled into the arm of the couch despite how nat’s head had found a home on her shoulder.  The second she had heard the blonde’s breathing even out, the damn movie had started with the jump scares, prompting the younger to draw out her phone for a distraction from the suspense, popcorn bowl nestled in the crook of her other arm.  The brunette had been half way through an article on Jodi Arias’ first appeal having been denied when the  commotion began, the combination of Natalie’s jolt with the inhuman sounds emitting from the TV causing Rowan to jump too, sending popcorn sloshing over the side of the bamboo bowl.  Laughter spilled from Rowan’s lips at the look on her friend’s face, feigned innocence all over the biker’s features.  “Babe, you’ve been asleep since the first time they killed this dude.” 

confusion ran throughout natalie’s features as her eyes focused on the screen first, then back on rowan — fragmented pieces of information joining each other to make a more or less comprehensive pictue of the situation, but it wouldn’t change how absolutely out of place she looked. “what dude?”, she asked, and then — realizing her own misdemeanor, chuckled, shoving rowan lightly away. “shut up. i just got distracted by... stuff”. cause of her exhaustion could have easily been found in the excessive shifts she’d been taking ever since the shooting (an innate need to feel useful translating to providing food for the community or, when she was at the greenhouse, taking care of the beauty). but she would not dwell on the reasons for it: she was happy just spending time with rowan, a small shelter from the storm the town had turned itself into. with a dramatic, desperate sigh, natalie returned to rest her head against the other’s shoulder. “i’m getting too old. i can’t even watch movies anymore. god. ro, please — if you love me, put me out of my misery”.

[neontigrr]

TASK 003. — NATALIE J. CASSADAGA. 

[neontigrr]

stefano —

“ Can’t have you sitting on the floor love, pretty sure there are some nasty things down there.”  Stefano was never one to turn away a pretty face. It didn’t matter whether he knew the person of not. He was good at getting along with anyone that he came in-contact with– he learned that early on in his line of work. You put a person at ease, you get them talking and eventually they will open up. Which was good in his case, the more they liked him. The more he got tipped and hired again for a later date. At the end of the day– why make enemies when he could make money instead.  Tonight was a little different , he wasn’t looking for a opportunity  to make money. He just wanted to remove the fog from his mind. Things in the town in the last ten years only seemed to be getting worst. As much as Stefano would love to stay out of the drama; he had a feeling that it was inevitable; he too would be added into the mix. Enough tension hung in the air around town– even he was feeling the need to shrug it off. Lifting a brow; he watched as the blonde took a delicate sip of her coke. Opening a notepad in front of him. “ Do you normally carry a notepad with you when you go to a bar? Or is this a new habit you’ve developed.”

her natural disposition to unadulterated sweetness was, no doubt, a residue from a past life. she’d turn herself tasty for anyone who’d give her attention, shower her in candy as well as stardust — it was different now. she shied away, but the sweetness was still there — only different. if it had been a weapon before, it was nothing but a way to compensate the bitterness she felt inside, now. it was an act, yes, but not to the benefit of herself: it was all for the ones she met along the way. right now, for the company of the man at the bar. she’d spotted him around town, once or twice, never really exchanging pleasantries — but she instinctively felt a similar attitude from him, a way to make himself accepted, or wanted, perhaps even desired. a curious look flashed through blue pupils: she’d have liked to ask him about it. find out if he was her similar, after all.

her smile turned apologetic, slipping the pen out of her notepad and starting to mindlessly scribble along a page already overflowing with flowers, birds, jungle creatures — she’d drawn them out throughout the span of a long, boring shift at hale’s; each bird resembling one of her coworkers, or a passing customer, or a friend. she threw one glance at the man across from her and wondered what kind of bird he’d look like. “i don’t usually do it in bars like a loser, no”, she chuckled, tilting her head as her gaze went from her pages to him and back again. “i keep it to myself, but — i don’t know, with everything that’s happened lately…”. a pause. her pen tapped against the page, a sigh leaving her, glancing once at him for understanding. “... the silence has become kinda creepy, you know? i prefer the noise. seeing people… living”.

[neontigrr]

genesis —

genesis had no idea in the slightest what she was doing. it wasn’t like her to spend time with someone that she didn’t know. not even when she was in one of her moods where the lows got really low. they had been happening more often than not lately. she had the feeling that there had to be some kind of reason the blonde was sticking around. something going on behind that pretty face but genesis didn’t push. she just knew that there had to be something. yet she allowed herself to take a breath and she shrugged,” haven’t we all?” there were so many things that were going on with everyone in their small town. things that haunted them well into the night. genesis never used to have that problem but things changed. she didn’t feel like she used to about anything anymore. she was shaking her head at that thought as she went to ash her cigarette, watching them hit the pavement. her free hand reaching to brush some of her hair away from her eyes. only to take another long, slow drag and glance down the street again. there was nothing but silence for the next few minutes which was fine with her. mindless chatt was something she tried to avoid if it was possible. she could only shrug since she wasn’t expecting some sort of wise remark,” i don’t need any insightful bullshit,” she said with a mere shrug,” i have to figure out what to do myself and i know it.” she always did try to handle her own business if she could,” that i do,” she agreed,” but who knows if it’s going to do any good? i’ll probably have to find something better.” 

for whatever reason, the girl’s silent sorrow echoed itself into her. perhaps she saw bits of herself in the way she carried her aching — she could recognize the circles around her eyes, though her ways had always been far more violent, stormier than a walk into the night. it was still enough for her to care: still enough for her to regret the weak willed attempt at lightening the mood, and the poor effect it had on the other. natalie threw discreet glances at her from the corner of her eyes, never wanting to intrude on the privacy of her grief, but sensing that there was something dark there, something deep and dangerous. her eyes were sad, recognizing the hurt in the water and hoping she could offer any sort of relief: knowing she couldn’t, either way. “hey, listen — i don’t know you, i don’t wanna sound like i do, i just… i’ve been there”. the words left her without much prompting, an instinct that aimed to bridge the gap between their own prisons: her sympathy was unfiltered, as much as it could with half her brain still suspecting this girl belonged to the other side of the battle they’d all been cast in. “i’ve been there, rock bottom and all that — i know it’s hard. so just, if you wanna try to talk about it, get it off your chest — i mean, we’re strangers”. the smile (just a vague, careful smirk at first) turned brighter for a second. “not like i can use it to blackmail you, you know?”

[neontigrr]

santiago —​

IT WAS TRUE; HE WAS ATTACHED TO HIS KUTTE and needed it like he needed oxygen. Santi reached out as she offered it to him, still half-sitting up as he examined it for blood, rips, anything; though he knew she’d said that it was okay. “Yeah, I’ll wait if I have to. Just wanted to lay eyes on it.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in the barest hint of a smile as he folded it carefully and hung it over the arm of the couch behind him, glancing back at Natalie and noting the concern on her face.

Her kindness, admittedly, did make him feel more welcome. Safe, even, in this place that she called home. Though he didn’t know much about her, he had to trust her because they had the same patches on their kuttes. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on wounding myself again… not yet, anyway.” Santi’s hint of a smile only grew, knowing that he was a magnet for all sorts of trouble. This wasn’t the first time he’d been on the receiving end of a knife and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, though it was the first time he’d woken up with such a gentle woman tending to him without question. Better than waking up in the clubhouse - or worse, a jail cell - wondering what the hell had happened. “Hey, do I have to ask for permission to go outside and have a smoke? Or will you tell me to keep my ass where it is?”

his question was harmless, more than legitimate, yet it still drew initial alarm from natalie. had she come across as imposing, rude, demanding? wide-eyed gaze focused on him, she was quick to retort: “no! i’m not a jailer, of course you can go”, and a smile following suit. this fear of hers never quite left. she strived every day to portray herself as something benign, the fairy godmother of old time’s stories — atoning for past villainy by pouring good into the world, over and over. it was hardly a doable feat, and she had to keep striving every day to keep giving herself to others (what would be left at the end of this, really, was anybody’s guess). quietly, she returned to her task — tidying the space around him (all that color, all that clutter could’ve easily overwhelmed anybody, and though the dustland wasn’t much of a clinic, she figured he needed at least some peace to recover). 

as she put a handful of colors, most of her painting equipment in a box on the side of the kitchen table, realizing just then that he must have been starving. with a vaguely concerned, definitely inquisitive look, natalie raised her gaze towards him and furrowed her eyebrows. “you should probably eat something first, though. are you hungry?”

[neontigrr]

nadine —

A sardonic chuckle was heard on Nadine’s end as she tapped away the excess ashes. She couldn’t blame Natalie for feeling that way. It’s been hours since they last spoke and it was expected that she had left. And yet, here she was chilling as if it was nobody’s business. She did get some people stop by to chat with her. After all, she was the local therapist and many thought that her good natured self was here for some fresh air. In truth, this was her method of killing time till she can tire herself out. However, she was wired and restless, so staying put seemed like the better option. “I’m sorry.” she advised at first. “Should have been mindful of the time and place.” With everything that has happened, she shouldn’t be out here on their own. However, the way Nadine saw it—no one was ever truly safe and she was stubborn, if anything she’ll put up a fight.

“Good.” she replied with a smile. “You can rest up for a new day.” The irony of it, she should be taking her own advice. She nooded in response to Nat’s question as she pulled out her pack. “Mhm, the lighter’s inside the box.” Taking another drag, she sat there in silence before initiating some small talk. “Was it busy today?” 

“hey, no problem. not like you could be a robber anyway, i got five bucks to my name”. natalie smiled, offering a soft, shallow laugh at the woman’s words .it was easy to pick up on the signs. the slight curve in her back, the downward note in her voice — the very fact that she was choosing to spend her night outside a diner, of all places. natalie could tell her day had been less than good and somehow, despite her having had no influence on nadine’s day whatsoever, she felt sorry. accepting the pack with a curteous nod of her head, natalie sat on her own bike — just a couple steps away from nadine, and allowed a moment of silence to stretch in between them. once the cigarette was lit, natalie shrugged, handing the pack back to the other and attempting a smile. “not busier than usual”, she offered, before her smile faltered, the passing cloud of a thought darkening it. “hasn’t been really busy in a while. think we’re all just shaken up still”. puffing out a cloud of smoke, she let her eyes follow the trail for a while and then land on nadine. she knew of her dad — of course, being a disciple came with knowledge of owen caine. she also knew (or at least suspected) that things must have not been easy since the shooting, and perhaps that was the reason behind her current posture, the way she looked exhausted as if she’d been working for a hundred years. “hey, are you okay?”, she didn’t mean to pry: hers was never a gossipy need to know what happened around her. it was genuine concern, at times mixed with a need to feel closer to people, still. natalie offered a softer smile this time, understanding: inviting. “you look like you... what’s that thing you guys always say, talk it out ?”

[neontigrr]

nej —

“ Natalie, can you bring the drill bits? It should be on the counter.” 

 The echo of his hammer hitting against the wood frame surround him. The arm pulling back and swinging down towards the nail, as the shock of hammer meeting wood and metal shook up his arm.  There were two instances for Nej to pull his  work bench out into the backyard. It was either because he had an order that he needed to fill– some kind of furniture that he was either commissioned to make or made as a gift. Or it was the hell project– one that had no purpose or aim. Other than allowing the man a way to vent his frustrations that he might have. Pieces of wood and metal; cut and bent. Sawed, hammered and sanded, an eye sore for sure. When the Frankenstein of projects made an appearance it was best to keep your distance. Today– thankfully. He was working on a commission piece. The light tinging of ice hitting glass gave him pause as he watched her walk out of the back door of his home. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead . Dropping the hammer to the ground he approached to woman. 

“That’s not what i asked for,” he teased reaching for the beer bottle he left at the top of the stairs. Nej took the seat on the top step; scrunching his nose as the warm beer hit his tongue. 

“ I’m almost done, then I can take you home when you’re ready.” 

@neontigrr​

 her smile was only a little bit complacent, as she handed him a bottle instead of his tools. it was odd, to a degree, to be still gravitating around his spaces like she’d done before — on the bright side, it was comfortable too, and even though there was history there, and not all of it pleasant, natalie could relax herself around him, perhaps let down the sun-bright act she hid behind most of the time, because he’d seen what was behind it and they’d stayed, as surprising as it was, good friends in spite of it. it was odd, but it was welcome too: perhaps the familiarity, and their shared passion for the visual arts, only added to the reasons why she was happy spending a free afternoon watching him work. “not what you asked, but definitely what you need”, she smirked. in her hands was a similar bottle, but her beverage was non-alcoholic (better to just not touch anything addictive, they said: of course she still had to get the memo about nicotine). 

 a gesture of her hand waved his concerns away. “don’t worry. i’d like to take a walk for a change — and besides, it’s my first day off in ages, you’re gonna have to kick me out to get me to go home”. eyebrows perked in amused playfulness, she sipped at her ice tea and circled the bench he was working on, a curious gaze as she picked up at the veining in the wood, the colors, the glimmer of sunlight reflecting off it. “what are you making?”, she asked, one quick glance at him as she traced a vein in the wood with her finger.

[neontigrr]

problematic customers had never been too much of a problem. she could take them: didn’t like to, but she knew, most of the time, how to handle them and defuse the situation. things were different now — with everyone on edge, with so much tension still palpable in the air, her reaction had been far more emotional that anticipated when a (likely intoxicated) man had started yelling about an alleged lack of courtesy from her. she’d frozen, tray in hand, as he kept overpowering her by sheer voice alone — and if it hadn’t been for the well-timed intervention of the officer, she might have just stared to cry like a goddamn child. she was embarrassed now, returning to the main counter after delivering the few orders on the floor. her smile, as she approached him, was a shade of apologetic. “thank you for that”, her voice low — part of her ashamed at her lack of a reaction, betraying even the name of her own bike (nothing tempestuous about this but her scalding humiliation). freddie tucked the empty tray beneath her arm, and sighed. “i’m sorry. i just kinda froze a little there. i, uh — can i buy you a cup of coffee? as a thank you?”.

@nonsparklyed​

[neontigrr]

genesis —

already she knew she should have gone back home. if not home than she could have gone and bugged one of the gang. maybe even shown up at the hospital to annoy leo. instead there she was and she doubted she was doing was a good thing. only because she knew that she should avoid really speaking to anyone. especially when her mind was such an utter cluster fuck. she merely gave the blonde a small smile after handing the lighter over. her gaze turning as she allowed herself to take a long, slow drag off her cigarette. the smoke slipping out of the corner of her mouth. smoking was one of the few bad habits that genesis still had left. that was why she was perfectly fine doing it. she tried her best to not study the blonde even if she was tempted. her free hand reaching to tug at the sleeve of her shirt a bit,” something like that,” she admitted,” can’t seem to shut my mind off.” plus it was strange to sleep alone but she wasn’t about to say that. she found herself crashing on her couch more than anything. she bit down on her lip and let out a small laugh,” it is pretty fucking weird,” she agreed,” but i’ll be fine, i always am and i just live off of coffee.” 

somehow, she felt sorry for her. couldn’t have told what it was, that made her suddenly care for the girl next to her — a distinct voice suggesting closeness might have been a losing bet, but it barely could compete with the feeling echoing itself into natalie — like the other had been looking for someone, or somewhere, to make sense of a puzzle she couldn’t seem to decipher. or maybe this was just her, projecting herself onto strangers for the pleasure of shaking a depressing moment on the side of the road. natalie took out long drags, not really savoring the smoke but getting lost in the way it swirled into nothing, changed its shape, then dissolved. “yeah. been there”. it wasn’t coffee that ould keep her up, but it had begun to feel like a living nightmare, after a while. she’d wanted sleep so badly, to rest, to just lie down and let her heartbeat calm down — she could still remember each part of her body aching, desperate in its quest for a high that was always harder to get. natalie let the silence stretch between the two of them, not really having any word that could result smart, or insightful, for the conversation. she let the cinders fall off her cigarettes, thought here was something beautiful in the way they burned just a little brighter before they hit the asphalt. “i wish i could tell you something wise, but i can’t”. natalie shrugged, eyes still following the trace of her fingers but smiling now, an apologetic look on her face. “i’ve heard walking can help though, so, hey — guess you got that part covered already”.

[neontigrr]

santiago —

OH, TO BE SO VULNERABLE IN FRONT OF SOMEONE SO UNFAMILIAR. Santiago lay back, acknowledging her apology with just a soft grunt as he averted his eyes and stared blankly up at the ceiling, as Natalie’s gentle hands shifted his bandage so she could assess the damage he feared he’d done. “Yeah, stay still. I can do that.” Knowing his kutte was safe and he hadn’t ripped any of his stitches, he let out a soft sigh of relief, his good arm reaching up so he could push away the long strands of his hair from where they tried to cling to his face.

He could drop the façade of toughness now, he figured. She’d seen him arrive in a mess and had probably seen enough Disciples in fights to know that Santi most certainly was in pain, even if he pretended like he wasn’t. “I’m… sorry, if I’ve been awkward.” He offered an apology as he watched her retreat slightly, lifting his good arm to pull his shirt back down. “Can you, uh… pass me my kutte?” God, it was like he had separation issues, except instead of it being a person he missed, it was an item of clothing; yet to the MC, it was so much more. It was their identity. It made up so much of Santi’s being and he felt almost embarrassed that he’d panicked so hard, when he thought for even a fraction of a second that it was gone for good.

     “you were awkward? i didn’t notice”. natalie chuckled, getting rid of a blood-stained cotton ball and letting a side glance reach him, wanting him to know that it was okay. she understood his preoccupation. to a degree, at least: she was considerably more chill about her kutte (worn mostly in the clubhouse, not a part of her usual work-appropriate attire), but thinking about it, she’d barely ever seen him without it — she figured his attachment to it was similar to her devotion to her tattoos, and so she couldn’t really blame him. she moved swiftly around the couch, picking up the kutte and tracing her way back to him, handing it carefully, not without a look of passing concern on her face. “i’d wait a little before wearing it, though”. her gaze was wary, afraid he might do something to harm the good work she’d done — and he, too, though his part had mostly been played as an unconscious body. “might seriously pop a stitch if you stretch too much, so —”. her smile, a shy, pale curl of her lips, was meant as a way of downplaying her concern. she didn’t want to sound overbearing, or nosy in any way — but she’d felt sorry for him when she’d seen him all bloodied and bruised, and would’ve hated to see him bleeding again. still, dynamics within the club were, sometimes, tricky: and she simply couldn’t delude herself into thinking she was the kind of person everyone got along with. with a shrug, natalie smiled. “not that i wanna tell you what to do, you know. just — you know, be careful”.

[neontigrr]

rett —

“Listen, ever since becoming a dad, everyone’s been my fuckin’ kid. And besides, you’re what? Twenty-one? Close enough to be my kid.” He joked, knowing that she had been at least another couple of years older, but to him, Natalie had been like his sister, ever since helping her get clean and healthier than she’d been when he found her that night – and when you care for someone like that, especially having a girl of your own, things got a little parental.

“I got my bike a little ways away from yours,” he took hold of one of her upper arms, placing a quick peck against her forehead. “I’ll meet you at my place.” He turned to make his way back to his Dyna. “Ride carefully, please,” he called out, turning to give her a quick glare, “don’t call me dad.”

A ride down Charming’s main street under a breezy spring night later, he pulled into the driveway of his home, turning off the ignition before hauling himself off the seat, watching as Nat made her way in behind him. “Gotta be quiet, Lani’s asleep, so no giggling allowed tonight. Come on,” he made his way forward, unlocking the front door of his home to let her in first before quietly entering the kitchen, placing his keys on the counter. He removed two mugs from an overhead cabinet, “so how y’been baby girl? What were you doing at Hale’s?”

    “alright, grandpa — !”, was the echo that greeted him goodbye as he ran off into the night. natalie shook her head lightly, but her smile was genuine. as much as she liked to tease him about it, he really did feel like a father — far more than edgar valentine ever had, nothing more than a shadow through the troubled years of her youth. sometimes she thought of her parens as spoiled children, throwing their broken kids out like toys they didn’t want anymore. she’d been lucky to find rett: to have him welcome her in his family, to find a home among lani and rowan and him, and everything a family should be, but she never had. as she got on her bike and followed the trail rett had left, right to his house, natalie remembered the first time he’d introduced her to the bike she was riding now, and thought back to her father, who’d never once even tried to give her a driving lesson. yeah, that was for certain — she’d been lucky as fuck.

     natalie followed him in quietly, comfortable in a space she’d come to know as familliar, intimate even — perched on one of the kitchen chairs, one leg folded beneath the other, elbows planted on the table and the tired, lazy expression of a child. “picked up an extra shift at the diner. gotta give in to the god of capitalism and earn them bucks, you know ——”, a shrug, then a comical smile following, and she propped her chin up against the palm of her hand, a curious look flickering in her gaze. “how ‘bout you? how’s little lanibug doing? i haven’t seen her in too long —”

[neontigrr]

dirt was sticking to her skin, and by the way she felt, natalie could guess her appearance was less than flattering — to be expected, after a full-time shift at the greenhouse — still, she’d had a good day. as good a day as anyone could get now, in the aftermath of what had happened just a few days before — but the sun was bright, her strawberries had grown to almost twice the size they were just three days ago, and tempest had stopped giving her so much problems. for all that mattered, in the immediate here and now, natalie was happy. and her smile reflected this feeling, bright against her features, perhaps uncharacteristically so, but feeding off the energy of the sunlight much like most of her plants did. only fair that, when spotting a familliar face, she should greet her enthusiastically. “hey!”, natalie called out to the prospect, raising a hand to greet her. “do you need a ride? where are you going?”. 

@auroragillenkerk​

[neontigrr]

her breaks in between her jobs, usually, were spent in solitude — basking in the sunlight or enjoying the electricity before a storm, always caught in a self-imposed meditation that seldom provided any comfort from the struggles of every day life. still, ever since the events at town hall, she’d found herself longing for human contact more than ever — feeling the need to make every second worth it, just in case it got taken from her. it had occurred to her that morning that she’d barely seen the other nat around, lately — the town itself was struggling to go back to its usual routines, but she missed her friend. she’d jumped at the chance to bring leftovers from the diner, finding in them the perfect excuse to crash natalia’s shift at the studio — she’d stepped in, unannounced, counting on the surprise effect to prevent a refusal from her. “naaaat!”, she called, half-singing as she stepped into the tattoo parlor, bags of food dropped on the counter while she leaned over it, hung from it the way a child would. she sparkled with enthusiasm, too much, perhaps — an old trick drawn from survival instinct, putting on a brave face when adversities arose. it was as good as any other attempt at chasing the darkness away, she figured. seemed to work, most of the time. sighing, natalie kept calling out. “i know you’re in here, you can’t hide from me”. 

@nataliaballard​

[neontigrr]

“ — does it look old to you?”. the question, spoken with heartfelt sorrow in her words, was meant for leyla, but natalie’s eyes were glued on her bike, the lady of the roads that had one bore the name of tempest, and now looked more or less like a drizzle. such a tired, achy thing, but it still pulled her through miles and miles of roads just fine. just lately, it had been producing herself in vaguely ominous noises, and she feared what that could mean. defeated, natalie let out a sigh and sat on the curb, elbows over her knees — a deflated balloon of a human being. when she looked at leyla, it was in search not just of solidarity, but maybe a solution. “if i take her to the shop again, they’re just gonna tell me it’s hopeless. i can’t give her up though, can i?”

@lcylaaslan​

[neontigrr]

a spirit of melancholy lingered in the air. it reminded her of the life she had before — in the vegas desert, people wrapped around a bonfire before they warmed against each other. she was different now, and the people surrounding her (represented, in the moment, by si’s figure stting just a few steps away from her — unthreatening, a presence she trusted to bring good vibes to her little shrine in the desert), did not look for ways to damage her. she was grateful for this: and for the quiet of the night, the smell of fire burning in a makeshift bonfire, the diamond point of the little triad they composed — the fire, and the two charred remains of human beings at its ends. she didn’t need for much, in a moment like this. perhaps just the reassurance that she could keep having more of these instants, as true as they were. her thoughts focused instead on much more immediate needs. trivial, perhaps, but this reminded her of school trips to the woods, and a key ingredient was missing. sprawling over her garden chair, natalie sighed, then threw a side-glance at her friend, looking for solidarity. “we need to get marshmallows, next time”.

@elsayeds​

[neontigrr]

the movie, admittedly, had sounded better than it realy was. either that, or the exhausting hours she’d been putting in at the diner were to blame: the result wouldn’t change, regardless of the cause. barely 11 pm and she was dozing off, head canting to the side and resting on rowan’s shoulder — she’d promised her a quiet night in, a chance to catch up and enjoy some much needed relaxation for the both of them. clearly, her plan had backfired, and it was the sound of whatever monstrous creature was roaring in the screen that made her jump now, suddenly startled back awake — “shit !” — misplaced, natalie let her eyes focus on the screen, then her bed, then rowan. the confused look soon turning unassuming, or trying to. “i was — i wasn’t sleeping, i swear”.

@rowrowrowankingsley​