leave her to heaven !

MATILDE OLIVEIRA. twenty three, omaha. costco, provisioner.

[priimadonnas]

❥  blake,

Blake wasn’t the same kid he was when all of this started, in fact, he wasn’t even the same kid that first joined the Costco camp. Being apart from David had changed him a lot, he’d had to let go of so many of his morals and reservations that had no place in this world. Then, being at Costco, working as a trader, he only seemed more exposed to the cruelty and desperation of man, which had served to harden him just a little more. He had people to protect, to look out for now, and he didn’t want to fail at that. But when he looked in the mirror, he no longer saw the same person, not even the ghost of his twin brother, living in his features. Now, here he was pointing his gun at a friend, and wondering just what his twin would think of him today. His face flares up red when he realized who he’d just threatened, silently kicking himself for being so stupid and wondering how he could have missed who he was pointing his gun at. 

They were both relatively new to the camp, so naturally they had spent some time with one another. Blake, of course, thought she might be the single most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, even before the world went to shit and everyone else stopped wearing their lipstick and high heels. Others might have laughed at her, but Blake admired that more than anything, not because it made her look even more heavenly, but because it did convey a sense of strength, at least to him. “Shit, I’m sorry, Mattie!” his gun was holstered in a moment, a little embarrassed to see the safety was still on anyway, probably an action only he’d stayed in the habit of in this world of quick draw. “What are you doing out here?” Not that he wasn’t excited to see her, but it definitely wasn’t common for her to leave camp.

      Matilde, three months in, had never been on the bad end of a pistol before. Probably due to never leaving her camp unless she absolutely had to, but she had heard stories of how Omaha was now the Wild West and a gun in the face was the standard greeting instead of a simple hello or faire la bise. She knew it was inevitable as her trips outside became more frequent, but she never expected lovely Blake would be on the other end. She didn’t exactly blame him, as he was outside and a gun would actually be useful in his hands unlike hers, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit... offended, maybe, or really a bit sad. It was sad to think that he had to act like that out here, not when he was so sweet to her inside. It was sad to think that out here, she was just another threat  ( ha, her, a threat? ),  something he may have to shoot. The apocalypse had been cruel to her, but she had started to suspect that it was even crueler to him. The gun in his hands was lowered when he realized it was her and Matilde couldn’t even pretend to not be relieved, shoulders slumping and eyes briefly closing with a long exhale. She had never liked guns, she liked one pointed at her even less.  ❝  It’s okay, Blake.  ❞  She smiled, though her nerves still felt a bit thick with adrenaline—that wasn’t really all on him, though, even stepping outside for a breath of fresh air on the roof of their camp was enough to make her shake with fear.

      Now that his gun was holstered, Mattie stepped up to him and placed a hand on his bicep. It was an effort to show forgiveness and familiarity but really it was just to feel something stable, to let her know the world outside was real and wasn’t as far away as it usually felt.  ❝  Well, you’ve been gone for a long time and we were all worried so I volunteered to come out and find you! Sean came too but I don’t know where he went.  ❞  Her tone lowered, gaze scanning over the immediate area in case the devil really appear did when you spoke of him.  ❝  The fucking asshole.  ❞  Her hand lifted from Blake’s bicep, tucking into the crook of her arm as she folded them over her torso.  ❝  We should probably get back soon, we don’t want them to send out another search party to find little ol’ me. What was taking you so long anyways?  ❞

[priimadonnas]

❥  gabriela,

Gabriela crouched down, one hand on her knife- ready, just in case- and one hand gently prodding at the berries that were growing, as if trying to determine whether they were poisonous or not just by doing so. She didn’t really have an answer still. “hey, what do you think about-” she turned, just in time to see Matilde duck behind the half dilapidated building they were scavenging around. Immediately, Gabriela was to her feet, pulling out her dagger. She stayed crouched down, glancing around- although she couldn’t see anyone or anything. “What is it?” She whisper-shouted over to Matilde, confusion evident on her face. The other girl had been jumpy the entire time. Gabriela was half tempted to ask the girl if she just wanted to return to camp, before she had a heart attack. 

But, even Gabriela could admit that so far Matilde had been able to help find a few things. Things that Gabriela normally would have overlooked or not cared about. The other girl was resourceful, mainly when she wasn’t ducking, or hiding from who knows what. As Gabriela realised there didn’t seem to be any imminent danger, she straightened up to her feet, before walking closer to Matilde and offering out her hand. “Alright, we gotta teach you how to use a knife or something, niña, this is becoming ridiculous.”

      The figure in the distance? A lamp post. Matilde peeked out from the wall, ready to see the harbinger of doom–undead or alive–only to find a fucking lamp post to be the culprit. Gabriela had approached, ready to fight, ready to do what she had to do, and Matilde had raised the alarm for a god damn lamp post in the distance. This is exactly why she didn’t like to go outside, she would only make a fool of herself, and there was nothing Matilde Oliveira hated more than being made a fool of. Oh, how everyone at home would be laughing at her tonight. “Sorry.” She whispered sheepishly, lips pressing together and eyelids squeezing tightly shut. Truthfully, she felt like crying. She always felt like crying, even more when outside, but this moment right there felt like rock bottom, like she could never sink any lower even though she knew she could, and probably would. Several more times that day, probably, too.

      Her sigh was low, exhausted and embarrassed. Turning on her shoes, her back collided with the wall of the building and her head lifted backwards to rest against the brick. Meet Omaha’s Biggest Idiot, Thinks A Lamp Post Is The Undead! She knew that Gabriela was right, she couldn’t coast on the protection of her or any other scavenger unlucky enough to be paired with her forever, but the way her body always jumped at every blow of the wind or caw of a bird made that seem like an impossible goal. If it was impossible, why bother trying?  ❝  Oh, what’s the fucking point? I’m fucking useless.  ❞  These were thoughts that she constantly had, thoughts others had that they didn’t mind voicing to her face, but they weren’t thoughts she’d ever let slip out before. Not in company, at least, but she had the hope that Gabriela could keep a secret.

[priimadonnas]

❥  silas,

It wasn’t stealing if no one else was left alive to claim it, at least that was what Silas told himself. In the beginning, he’d heard terrible stories about looting and been frightened by how well he understood that sort of behavior. Desperation never had brought out the good in mankind. Most of these stores have been picked over, but Silas thought he’d do one more run through. He thought, maybe, there were some supplies others overlooked as unnecessary that could have some value now. He’d been sorely wrong, walking away almost empty-handed, except for a cross necklace that he took more out of habit than a need for it. He tucked it into his pocket just as he saw a girl dash behind a wall, a slow moving walker trekking behind her. He wasn’t sure either of them noticed him, so he used that to his advantage, moving fast and low and silent. Just as she poked her head out again, he drive his blade into the undead’s skull, watching the body crumple as it’s soul finally escaped that flesh prison. “May he dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” It was a common funeral rite, something he tried to make an effort to say every time he killed one of them. He turned his attention to the girl. “You know, hiding from them only works about 50% of the time. Besides, this one saw you, sitting still was just leading him right to you.” 

      Armed with a simple letter opener, Matilde clearly didn’t know much in the way of survival. Most of her post-outbreak life had been spent locked inside, the Rapunzel or Snow White of the Apocalypse, protected and safe. While she was thankful for the safety and relative ease of being a provisioner, she had been wildly unprepared for venturing outside, and had tried to protest it when one of her leaders told her to just suck it up. Everyone had to earn their keep in this new world, even the princess. Perhaps they should have trained her a bit more though, Matilde thought bitterly as the man took out the undead with the relaxed nature of a soldier in the midst of yet another war. It was sort of impressive, really, if not totally gross and somewhat a bit sad. Mattie didn’t spend too much time outside, her kill count was non-existent, and the general icky factor of the act didn’t appeal too much like it did to others. Without a kill count, she hadn’t gone through the guilt of killing a thing that was once alive, and she wasn’t sure if everyone else did go through that—how could they not, though, disposing of something that used to breathe just like them? Her experience with survivors she didn’t already live with was non-existent as well. Though it didn’t seem like he was too bad, saying a prayer for the dead, something she promptly decided was the decent thing to do. That was sort of nice. Not so nice? His warning. To Mattie, it felt condescending, like he viewed her as weaker because she didn’t know what to do when faced with the undead—because clearly, she didn’t.  ❝  Thanks.  ❞  She said, though her tone was bit sliced and didn’t really carry the attitude of grateful. That swiftly changed into more insecure and sheepish, arms crossing over her torso and eyes surveying the body at their feet.  ❝  I... don’t get out much.  ❞

[priimadonnas]

❥  finn,

Finn didn’t mind going outside much, not when looking at the same walls and same people day after day could cause a bit of claustrophobia for him. For now, people were working together and mostly keeping quiet, especially with how new everything was. Nobody wanted to be the arsehole who caused a scene or made things tense in camp but Finn could still feel that hesitant tension. Of course that new, awkward feeling was bound to dissipate but it was just a matter of when. So, getting to go outside ( even if for a few minutes ) was a welcomed part of his every few days. With the slower introduction to spring, he was just waiting for the flowers to begin blooming that would tell him it was appropriate to start planting. The least amount of Costco pre-packaged food they consume, the better. Finn had been a chef, for fucks sake; he was excited for the day that he could cook his campmates a real fucking dinner.

Seeing the familiar dark hair of his camp-mate and fellow Provisioner, he realized by her small yelp that she hadn’t recognized him at first. Wearing a hat, he didn’t blame her. Besides, he had only arrived in camp only about two weeks prior and having been so focused on his sister and job, he hadn’t necessarily extended himself to make friends. He cautiously made his way over, a smile lifting to his features when he reached her. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s just me.” He nodded his head, then wondered if she actually remembered his name. “Finn..” 

      Matilde had to wonder why so many people at her home camp enjoyed going outside—there were people, scavengers mostly, who seemed to be addicted to it, like every time they came back inside, they were just counting down the minutes until they could go out again. There were the guards, who patrolled the parking lot by making rounds on top of the roof  ( high up where no dead could get them, but still, they were outside )  if they weren’t patrolling the doors from the inside. The traders, who left to other camps and met up with strangers on the road like travelling salesmen; it wasn’t as if she wasn’t a social butterfly herself, but the risk was too great just to socialize. A cocktail party in Hell. That didn’t sound so half bad, as long as it was hosted in the Costco. Medics went where they were needed and well, Leaders could go wherever they pleased. Even constructors had to leave occasionally to fix things and work on building a fence around the main entrance.

      Provisioners, though? Matilde believed it was the grace of the job that she didn’t have to leave if she didn’t want to, and usually, she didn’t. She would have gone outside the compound kicking and screaming, practically did, but she knew where her bread was buttered. She knew her own personality was grating at times, she knew she was a spoiled little rich bitch  ( enough people had told her as much several times a week )  and she knew her attitude could wear out her welcome quickly if she didn’t at least try. 

      So, try she did. So, she was outside and freaking the fuck out as the figure came closer, only to reveal a vaguely familiar face. Her eyes were shut tight when she heard the footsteps, hands gripping the side of the house like she was going to fly away if she let go, and she only opened them to see Finn as he told her his name; she had remembered it, just not at that precise moment.  ❝  Finn?  ❞  She questioned hesitantly, relaxing ever so slightly and loosening her grip on the side of the house, like the act of flinching had exhausted her—probably did.  ❝  This is a little far away for a smoke break, don’t you think?  ❞

[priimadonnas]

❥  darla,

    with the cold breeze snaking its way through omaha’s dead streets, darla could almost PRETEND she had sunk back into the sea of street lights and cigarette stained concrete winding through the heart of her southside home. but the silence rung in her ears like static  —  her muscles moved like clockwork, reaching for the wires buried under the wheel of the beat-up ‘92 chevy, yet no memory could shake off the thick rotting stench of death and grief that spread through omaha. 

    child’s play she thought as it started up, pulling out memories from the front of her mind like weeds  —  the engine came alive in a fierce rumble, seemingly the only animated thing left in this static portrait of decay around her. yet as darla adjusted the front view mirror, her core tensed at the sight of a figure, blurred by smeared blood  &  dust across the glass. her foot hovered over the accelerator as she shifted into reverse, ready to flatten the UNDEAD fucker. but with a long squinted gaze, she slumped back into her seat. 

    ❝  CHRIST i’m not blind.  ❞  the words left her mouth like a trapped breath, her tough exterior smothered by a wave of relief, as she rolled down the window.   ❝  this your truck  ?  if it isn’t, you better clear out the way or you’ll be ROADKILL. if it is well then uh… this is awkward. guess you’ll be roadkill anyway.  ❞ much like darla to be all talk no action,  &  she was sincerely hoping it wasn’t the latter. her clothes were already stained red, with the smell of the undead weaving through fabric  &  hair matted in thick blood. she was in no MOOD for confrontation.

      Only seeing a figure in the distance, her worldview was disoriented by the sound of an engine turning on—she hadn’t heard that sound in months, at least not regularly. People could still use them, the gas hadn’t dried up and the engines hadn’t rusted over in the few months since, but in a world where mostly everything is dead, so was the automobile industry. The warm glow of headlights washed over the fence she was hiding behind, blinding her eyes, and Matilde felt much like the proverbial deer. It was an eerie scene, the driver and most of the truck blocked out from the light, and she had to briefly wonder if there even was a driver. Perhaps she had watched the movie Christine too young, but the truck stalled in its sudden life as if it was thinking, deciding whether to mow her down like that deer or simply spare her.

      The sound of the voice rang out above the sound of the engine and Mattie tentatively stepped out from behind the fence, drawing closer but not by much—she wasn’t completely clueless. After weeks of stubbornly wearing heels just to show people, the world, that the apocalypse couldn’t strip her of every dignity, she felt a bit wobbly on some generic, name brand-less pair of sneakers she found within the clothing section at the Costco, and a little bit less like herself. Even less like herself than being outside made her feel. Not only was the apocalypse unknown territory, so was Omaha, and the vulnerability she felt couldn’t be masked by any sort of powerful stride–shoulders back, head up high–she could force herself to muster.

      Matilde approached the woman in the truck, quickly sucking in a breath in an effort to appear calm and collected, like she was outside every day  ( probably like this woman had been, from the state of her clothes and hair )  and she was completely in her element.  ❝  No, it’s not.  ❞  Matilde replied quickly and truthfully, sucking in another breath like it pained her,  ❝  but I would like a ride if you’re willing.  ❞  She was a woman, too, right? Weren’t women supposed to stick together, wouldn’t she be safer with another than by herself, out in the open? The idea that the stranger could be dangerous seemed like a risk willing to take and Matilde realized this was what life was now, having to choose between two dangers and picking the one that hurt less.

[priimadonnas]

❥  colleen,

colleen was out to scavenge again. she didn’t enjoy it nor she wanted to do it but it gave her a sense of purpose, a reason to survive — for others, not for herself. sure, she could scavenge things for her own, but for what? living to only die alone? not a chance. she felt like surviving was doing amaya a favor, living her life like what she was supposed to do for her. like clockwork, her feet dragged her to he destination, bag in tow to collect her supplies on and she knew that after that, she had to get back to the inn. 

she walked around the room cautiously, trying to listen for suspicious sounds. and while she was still trying to find some out of place noise, she examined some stuff, reading the label thoroughly while pointing her flashlight on it. the brunette quickly turned around as soon as she heard the noise, her eyes squinting at a corner where the noise came from. ‘ you know, ’ she started, putting down the can she was holding, ‘ you should never really hide. you’re vulnerable that way. plus, you almost gave me a heart attack, so show yourself, please. ’

      Matilde wondered if this was the point of view of the monsters, lurking and observing. Perhaps not, since the undead seemed to leap and lunge for you the second they laid their eyes upon you, but there was an odd feeling of voyeurism involved. Like she was peeking in on a private meeting between business partners or waiting for her dad to go to bed so she could sneak out and go out to party—she didn’t really need to, her dad didn’t actually care, but she felt that it made her more normal, more of a teenager. Maybe it was her childhood need for attention, making her feel awkward and wrong for hiding, she hated playing hide ‘n seek because it meant that no one was looking at her. These days, however, she figured it was best she was never seen.

      Until the woman spoke. Her warning was a bit of a shock to Matilde, as hiding and dodging was one of her best  ( and only )  defenses. Vulnerable that way? Mattie had always felt vulnerable, hiding and vicious insults were the only things she could use to defend herself, and only one worked on the undead.  ❝  Sorry.  ❞  Matilde apologized, stepping out from behind the wall and inching towards the doorway to show herself, shielding her eyes from the light in an otherwise darkened room.  ❝  I didn’t mean to scare you, I just... I’m not very good at all this stuff.  ❞  Yet, her mind finished, but didn’t entirely believe.

[priimadonnas]

❥  noah,

With a shotgun swinging stiffly by his side, Noah felt he had very little to fear. Sure, the possibility of a herd coming straight his way was always present, but what excitement would he have to look forward to otherwise? The live people were a treat to run into as well. Prior to the end of the world, neighbors and familiar faces always went out of their way to avoid him when he walked in the streets. Now, some even sighed relief to see it was just him rather than another one of the undead. The man was, for the most part, harmless when it came down to it, though lately his unpredictability had to be taken into account as well. 

He was humored by the girl’s appearance. Once he spotted her, she could not escape his sight. He whistled to the tune of The Itsy Bitsy Spider as he approached her hiding spot, allowing his final note to be interrupted by a hearty laugh when she yelped. “You know, my four year old was better at this game than you. How embarrassing for you!” He grinned once more and, with little sense of personal space, took another step towards her. “It’s a joke. I’m joking. The world is dead, doesn’t mean your sense of humor has to be too.”

      The instant the tune of ‘ itsy bitsy spider ’ hit her ear, Matilde felt her stomach drop to her feet. Children’s nursery rhymes could mean only one thing in horror movies: ghosts. Well, more of evil in general, but ghosts was the first thing that came to mind, in their floating, moaning, see-through spirit form, perhaps even rattling some chains. She didn’t believe in ghosts, she didn’t believe zombies would ever become real either, but for some reason, that’s exactly where her mind went. When the man called out to her, the stomach-sinking feeling seemed to only seep deeper into the ground. Matilde began to worry this man was what they called a dangerous survivor, she had heard stories of how some people took the end of the world as the end of morals and laws and goodness. Mattie hadn’t liked to hear those stories and sometimes, would suspect that the scavengers that told them were just embellishing to tell a good, more entertaining story—after all, aren’t the best horror movies ‘ based ’ on a true story?

      Maybe they weren’t embellishing, maybe the world really was as dangerous as they told her. Her legs felt as if cement was poured around her feet, confused and frozen in place. If her legs would listen to her brain, she’d run away. Instead, she peeked out from the wall and watched as the man stepped closer, like he couldn’t understand the social cue of stay the hell away, creepy man! And well, she hadn’t met many strangers so far, but this stranger was definitely... strange. Leaning out further from behind the wall, Matilde regarded him with squinted eyes and creased brows, frowning at his idea of a sense of humor.  ❝  Maybe you should just get better jokes.  ❞

[priimadonnas]

❥  elodie,

When Elodie hears the little yelp as she re-enters the dining room of the house they’re currently looting, she tries not to roll her eyes. Having to go on scavenging trips with one another person is bearable, but two? Let it not be so, especially if that extra person is Matilde Oliveira, her polar opposite: formerly rich, ill-prepared, and better off staying inside the warehouse than outside. Sure, everyone needs a little more to do, but Elodie’s not keen on looking after anyone else but herself on the streets, and having Mattie tag along makes her feel a little like a glorified babysitter. She’s not about to have a camper’s death on her hands, thank you.

“Chill, Mattie, it’s just me.” Elodie beckons the other girl to come closer, dumping a box full of random shit onto the empty table. “There’s more where that came from, but we’ll start here. Doesn’t look like anyone’s coming ‘round soon and I got rid of all the biters already, so we can sort. That’s what you’re here for, right?” Picking up a shirt with Taylor Swift on the front, she tosses it aside before looking around, lips pursed. “Where the fuck’s Sean? He was supposed to keep watch.”

      Mattie had heard stories of how dangerous the world was. Scavengers and traders would swap stories of dangerous survivors or hordes they fought their way out of upon returning home from a trip out. Guards would make jokes about the undead, how one’s head exploded like a watermelon, how one was an ex-girlfriend of theirs and how much satisfaction they got from putting her zombified form down, which ones they would or would not have fucked, talking with the camaraderie that came with military platoons or film crews. Mattie always took them with a grain of salt, half of her not wanting to believe things could really be that bad out there and half because it all seemed so unbelievable—as did the dead walking, months ago. Now, outside the walls, Mattie was more inclined to believe them and she hadn’t come across any danger... yet.

      Matilde didn’t know whether to be calmed or irritated by Elodie’s voice, beckoning her out like she was the help. She supposed Elodie had the right to do so, she was the one with experience and Mattie was the third wheel, but she couldn’t help the slight petulant roll of her eyes. Her lips pressed tight, she recovered from the embarrassment that swelled in her chest over assuming her campmate was a biter and stepped out from behind the wall.  ❝  That’s me,  ❞  Matilde mumbled softly and a tad bitterly,  ❝  Miss Helpful.  ❞  Hurriedly crossing the room, Matilde quickly sat down at the dining table and poked lethargically at the pile thrown in the box.  ❝  I don’t know.  ❞  Mattie looked up at Elodie, shrugging limply.  ❝  I think he said something about a collectible McDonald’s cup upstairs but I stopped listening after McDonald’s.  ❞  Then she looked around the room, surveying the tacky brown decor and wood paneled walls,  ❝  This house smells like old people.  ❞

[userethereal]

[shlongbottom]

♩ from mattie!!

SEND ME A ♩ AND I’LL PUT MY MUSIC ON SHUFFLE AND PICK A LINE FROM THE SONG THAT I THINK FITS OUR MUSES’ DYNAMIC THE BEST

matilde oliveira & blake dickens ! :

when you were here before, couldn’t look you in the eye,you’re just like an angel, your skin makes me cry.you float like a feather, in a beautiful world.and i wish i was special, you’re so fuckin’ special.creep - radiohead

[ainswerths]

[priimadonnas]

( @bbdickens )

[priimadonnas]

on a scale from 9 to 10 how much do you love tarantino movies

honesty day : accepting!

      ❝  I’m sorry, did you say something? I think I heard something about mediocre stories that reuse the same shots over and over again and something about movies that use the n word way too much like the director has even more of a fetish for it than he already does for feet... but that could have just been the wind.  ❞

[priimadonnas]

Are you into horror movies or just like your dad’s movies bc you know he’s your dad

honesty day : accepting!

      ❝  Well, my dad certainly got me into them, but I’d like to think I’ve got a taste of my own and trust me, honey, Duarte Oliveira is one of the best. He’s not just a horror guy, either, alright. He’s got more talent than fuckin’ Eli Roth, that’s for sure. It’s not like I’m some fake geek girl pretending to like horror to get some guy to like me, which by the way, is such a bullshit stereotype and no one is pretending to be interested in anything to get close to any of your scuzzy asses anyways. Like the above zoom in shot from the Bloody Mama remake? That was my idea and not to brag, but it’s one of the best scenes in the whole movie.  ❞

[priimadonnas]

which one? never pluck your eyebrows again for as long as you live, or never be able to cut/file your nails again

honesty day : accepting!

    ❝  Ughhh, that’s such a toughie. Ultimately, I can let my brows go, but I cannot stand the feeling of super long natural nails. When they get weak and bend onto your finger? Groooody.  ❞

[priimadonnas]

got any crushes ??

honesty day : accepting!

    ❝  I may have my eye on someone… or someones. A lady doesn’t show all of her cards, but we’ll see.  ❞

[priimadonnas]

where did you even get the heels

honesty day : accepting!

    ❝  Already had them on me, honey. The day my Lous die, I’m holding a funeral in the frozen food aisle.  ❞

[priimadonnas]

did you have anybody outside of your family that gave a fuck about you as a person?

honesty day : accepting!

    ❝  Tons of people, actually, you little bitch. Which is more than I can say for you. It must suck knowing that you were a lonely, sad, pathetic little gossip spreading idiot even before the outbreak and the apocalypse had really no impact on your situation, except for making you even more alone. Which, not to be rude, you deserve to be. Have a great night!  ❞