false alarm !

"eaten or rotten, i am all mouth." —sylvia plath, poem for a birthday. penrose jackson, 18, in grade 12. impulsive, resourceful, irreverent, manipulative.

[penrosejackson-blog]

((hey everyone!! i’m taking a hiatus for a while bc i’m v sick and overworked. but i’m still available to plot-- my skype is montparsass, you can reach me pretty easily on there. love u all!))

[penrosejackson-blog]

2:06 PM ---- 25 Mar 2017 @penrosehourglass: “#art nouv-heaux”              ----    945 retweets, 4,873 likes

[stability]

[prettymysticfalls]

I might even surprise myself with what I can do.

[penrosejackson-blog]

((hey i’m doing a Thing so!!! if everyone could do me a solid and help out i would really appreciate it :) reply to this post (or message me) with a song that you think describes your character! only one song per character please (unless u have two REALLY good ones and u cant decide) but if you have multiple characters, feel free to send in multiple songs :* thanks y’all))

[penrosejackson-blog]

[ + @damsel-butnotindistress​ ]

“I don’t know how I ripped my dress,” Penrose mutters, stubborn as usual. She’s still ridiculously high, and she knows exactly how she ripped her dress, but she doesn’t think that Ruby really needs to hear all the details. “I was just asking if you knew any good tailors. You seem like the type to have a secret network of contacts in every industry, but I figured fashion would be a no-brainer.”

[penrosejackson-blog]

yousmellpurple:

Emmie Lou didn’t know how anyone could be joking. She was mortified. She knew a real body when she saw one, and that man was real. With her shirt discarded, she now only had a bra, skirt and bloodied tights on. Her wide eyes stared at the girl.”You’re sick.” She pointed her finger to the girl’s eyes, her finger getting closer and closer, as if she was about to poke the girl’s eyeball.

“I’m sick?” Penrose swatted the girl’s hand away, laughing. The noise was hollow and humourless. “Yeah, I’m fucking sick. I feel like I’m about to throw up, and not just from the copious substance abuse. Where’s your shirt, Carrie White?” This last sentence was spoken in a different tone than the rest; reluctant sympathy bled into Penrose’s voice. She felt bad for the girl who clearly had had to surrender her top for evidence. They weren’t actually living inside a shitty misogynistic horror movie, even though that’s how today felt. There was no reason this girl had to walk around topless.

[penrosejackson-blog]

 lydiaasher:

Penrose’s voice cut through Lydia’s thoughts and it was a blessing of sorts, the sound of a friend instead of more cops and EMTs. They meant well and they were doing their best to be tactful, but even without seeing the way they reacted to other people, it was clear from how they’d responded to her and Gabe that they weren’t used to working with kids like the ones at Plath. But Gabe had gone to get her clean clothes and they’d relaxed a little now that the serial killer was gone.

They also seemed to think that Penrose looked like a nice change, if the way they let her in was any indication. When she felt the other girl by her side, she tried to manage a smile, but it was shaky and clearly forced. She gave a small shake of her head, fingers bunched up in the bloody fabric of her dress. “I-I…they said I can’t leave yet. They, um, they want my dress for evidence and I-I think they want to, um, to question me some more.”

“They want--” Penrose cuts herself off, absolutely fuming. “Those sick fucks. Don’t they understand how trauma works? Or how shock works? I’m eighteen, for Christ’s sake, and even I know that you won’t be of any use to a detective right now.” She squeezes Lydia’s hand gently, brushing more blood out of her hair. Some police officer gives her a suspicious look, and Penrose flips him the bird. She’s never been a fan of cops, and today is not her day to change.

“I’ll stay with you, then,” Penrose promises, and she kisses the back of Lydia’s bloody hand. Now she really does look like a knight. She wipes her own bloody fingers off on her dress; it’s red anyway, so she figures a little blood won’t matter too much. Her mind is vibrating from a combination of her fury, the drugs, and the shock. “And if they ask you anything weird, I’ll be your lawyer. I’m practically a god damn law student at this point anyway.” She knows she’s rambling, but she doesn’t know what else to do. The more she looks at Lydia’s blind eyes, the less she finds herself able to breathe.

[penrosejackson-blog]

damnedadamjones:

“Yeah,” Adam says dully before he looks towards her, his eyes narrowing only slightly as he straightens, “You don’t really find corpses daily. Unless you work in the medical field, I suppose. And even then, only particular individuals would experience that.”

“I don’t work in the medical field,” Penrose replies, squinting back at him. “And I have no plans to, especially not after a shitshow like this. I’ll stick to live bodies, thanks.”

[penrosejackson-blog]

lydiaasher:

So much for a nice night and the joy of winning queen. Part of Lydia felt like an idiot for thinking that things were going to go well, but no one could have predicted things would go so horrifically. Only a few minutes ago she’d been up on stage with Sarah being crowned king and queen and now? Now she was sitting on a plastic chair they’d have to throw away, wrapped in a shock blanket and absolutely soaked with blood, trying to decide if it was better or worse than she couldn’t see the body or how horrific she looked at the moment.

“Let me through, I’m her roommate,” Penrose growled at some TA who quickly ducked out of her way when they saw her face. Penrose was seeing red-- literally, and figuratively. She had no idea why someone would target a person as sweet as Lydia repeatedly, but she knew that sometimes that’s how the world worked. Shit was unfair. When the Creeper’s identity was discovered, Pen fully planned on murdering them.

When she got to Lydia’s side, she knelt; she’d called the girl princess since their first meeting, but it seemed more fitting now than ever. “Lyd,” Penrose murmured, pushing a clot of blood away from her forehead, and then flicking it off to the ground. Nate could clean it up later. “Babe. It’s Penrose. Do you want me to take you up to our room?”

[penrosejackson-blog]

“This really is a night to remember,” Penrose jokes. Anyone that knows her can tell she’s thrown off by what happened; she’s visibly shaken, and from her dilated pupils and messed up hair, it’s clear she’s high on something. She hadn’t known Phillip, but this is the first time she’s seen a body that gory up close.

[penrosejackson-blog]

finnickdevak:

Finn was flustered, but in the best way imaginable. Pen was beautiful and brilliant and clever and she didn’t find him absolutely repulsive, which was a rarity. Even the fact that she was willing to touch him without being grossed out by the bandages or the knowledge of what he’d done was special. “Maybe I have a shot then because I am a capital M mess. You probably would have hated me if you met me before I came here.” He frowned a little. “They’re, um, probably just stupid. Or maybe they’re the type of people that get confused just because someone cut their hair. I can’t think of many people more memorable than you. ”

Maybe I have a shot was ringing around her head like a bell. He wanted to have a shot with her. She was shellshocked by the idea, because-- sure, she’d been aware of his attraction to her, but this was another thing entirely. “I doubt it,” she told him, being as honest as she could. “What were you like before you came here? If you were a little bit as friendly as you are now, I can’t imagine I’d hate you. And I’m a mess too... So.”

[penrosejackson-blog]

jonahlux:

Jonah smiles, shaking his head slightly as he moves towards her, enjoying the feeling of her hands through his hair at the nape of his neck, “Quite agreed,” he says softly. As she continues, he laughs, “That’s good, as I’m Jewish anyway,” he says, pulling her body against his gently, “I find permission quite important. I’d only like to make you happy, darling. After all, what else would the point be?”

“Oh, you’re sweet,” Penrose says. It’s a startling but not unpleasant revelation. “How did a sweet boy like you end up in a sour place like this? And you don’t have to worry about permission, Jonah; you have my full permission for anything.”

[penrosejackson-blog]

xnicorn:

“Red suits you. At least this shade of red does, also… the hair”, he points out with arched brows and a soft tilt of the head as his subtle smiled persisted on his expression. ‘No, I came alone’, her words rang a bell in his head. “Bad”, he scolded her, “shouldn’t be hard for you to find a date, though. I came alone. Not sure if someone would be up to tolerate me giving flowers to other people”, he admitted with a soft chuckle.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, glancing down at the floor. It feels good to have her vanity stroked, and she looks back up at the mention of her hair, instantly reaching up to toy with it. “Do you like the new length? I’m still getting used to it.” God, PJ, you sound pathetic, a voice in her head sneers, desperate for a guy to validate you. No, no, wait, wait, not PJ, Penrose, Penrose, Penrose. She swallows her bitter thoughts. “I think it’s sweet; a good person should be able to see that you’re being kind, not trying to sleep with every girl you give a rose to.”

[penrosejackson-blog]

finnickdevak:

When Penrose grabbed his hand, Finn was pretty sure he felt his heartbeat spike into something not even a heart monitor could pick up and he knew that she knew it. There was no way that she couldn’t hear his heart racing. “I’m glad. I swear, once upon a time, I was totally smooth and way less…of a mess,” he insisted with a laugh as she pulled him along. “I mean…it’s just a mask. It’s a little like Clark Kent and Superman. I still recognize you even if I can’t see your cheekbones.”

She took Finnick down a back corridor to the cafeteria, looking around every corner for administrators before turning it. She wasn’t too worried about being caught; she had a foolproof, beautiful alibi. Still, her heart was racing; from both the adrenaline of preparing to commit minor theft and from something else she was entirely too scared to name. Pen squeezed his hand after his nerdy joke, and shot a smile at him over her shoulder. “Hey, I like the mess. I don’t know what to do with smooth boys at all; I’m used to a little mess. And I don’t know, a few people had trouble identifying me at all. Maybe I’m just not that memorable.”

[penrosejackson-blog]

jonahlux:

With her assertion, Jonah smiles brightly, “How wonderfully paired we are, then,” he says, chuckling gently at her following statement, “I’m sure you wouldn’t be as bad as you think. Sexual skill, though, is quite advantageous in life,” he says, taking her hand as she extends it. Stepping towards her, he smiles and places her hand on his shoulder, “I would love to, darling, is this alright?” he asks the question as he places his hands on either side of her waist.

“It’s crucial,” she agrees, smiling back at him. His smile is warm, and if there’s an edge to it, she doesn’t mind at all. There’s an edge to her as well. Her hands sink down into his warm shoulders, fingertips curling around his neck. “This is more than alright. The closer the better, right? There’s no need to leave room for Jesus.” She isn’t dancing with Levi or anything.

[penrosejackson-blog]

finnickdevak:

Well, that was probably the obvious answer, wasn’t it? But the less obvious thing was the familiar voice that came from behind the mask, alerting him to the presence of none other than the girl he had a massive crush on. “That’d be…really awesome, actually. I’ll come with?” He gave a nod and a little laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’d know your voice anywhere. Not to be creepy, but…yeah, that probably sounded creepy.”

“Sure! Let’s go now,” she said, and reached out to grab his hand without asking. There were certain privileges to knowing someone liked you, and Penrose enjoyed putting people on edge. Of course she was grabbing Finnick’s hand because she knew he liked her. That was a completely characteristic thing to do. And if she had her own desire to hold his hand, well-- “That’s not creepy; and if it is, I’m flattered regardless. Were you fooled for even a second? I was hoping it was a convincing disguise.” She pulled him in the direction of the cafeteria, out through the doors and into the hallway of the school.