e i d o l o n s

rina munroe / 25 / farmhand.

[rinamunroe]

— kaz-raval​ ;

- 

“I’ve got it.” An echo, a reiteration on cleaning up the mess of the broken bag.  He left me at the start of everything. Of course. Their father had dumped anyone outside of himself. If she stuck around Mr. Munroe and expected to be carried along by him, well. That was her fault.  

Bishan and Rina were the ones with a glint of stardust and hope in their eyes for Mr. Munroe. Bishan’s aggro nature buried some of the awe but was straight out of their father’s playbook– so their father would notice. And view his brother as the chosen son. Rina was more deceptive. She wove a spider’s web to trap them all in a tender moment. A forcible realization they were bonded together. But those webbed strings were easily broken by the first breeze of hostility in the house, time and time again.

Kaz as the middle one had turned himself into a spectre early on. A ghost which floated in and out of the house. Unnoticed, untraceable. Untouchable by sentiment or emotion. 

And what Rina shared wasn’t a surprise. He was only thankful the guy wasn’t around.

Kaz’s brain finally registered the sling on Rina’s arm. His chin tipped up. “What happened to your arm?” Vegetables bagged, he picked them up with a hand tight on the opening, the other offered to help her up as he stood. Was she already working on the fucking farm? “Are you planning on staying?”

-

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following his gaze to her arm, rina bites her lip, looking away as he stood. “people,” she tells him simply, careful to keep her tone even. the last thing she wanted now would be to betray herself so easily for a brother who definitely hadn’t cared, and wouldn’t now. 

and she ignores the hand just as easily, not with a cold shoulder nor any sorts of bitterness, but a need to stand on her own and support herself without relying on anyone, no matter how small, or simple, like a helping hand to rise onto her feet with more of an ease.

“until this has healed. then... then i guess not.”

“don’t worry. i don’t plan on getting in your way. or bishan’s, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

[rinamunroe]

— yahnaa-padney​ ;

With eyes widening suddenly, and her mind brought out of her cloudy thoughts, Yahnaa sprinted forward to help with the door. “Of course, of course!” She called, smiling at the face of the stranger whom she hadn’t seen around town before - and normally she would for Yahnaa kept an eye out for anyone she hadn’t met before, planning their first interaction. 

“Here, come in. Dear, you must be new, did you get any tokens yet? That’s how they pay for things here. No wait, it’s on me, I can carry it for you. You’re not useless, you just need a little help,” she insisted.

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a mistake, then. for it appeared rina had picked the bubbliest and most talkative girl from the crowd. cute as she is, she’s already overbearing and while the door opens and rina makes to leave, she can’t help but shy away from her enough to keep her goods to herself. 

“the door’s good enough,” she tells her with a small nod, a small smile. “i don’t need anything else.”

[rinamunroe]

— liviawilliams​ ;

she’s not hiding - honestly she’s not - but with youra pretty much popping up everywhere these days and with the guilt that constantly eats at her when she’s spending time with her brother, quiet moments where she can settle and lose herself in her work are few and far between.

liv likes the rural area, the peacefulness the farm provides, which had come as a shock at first, considering the absolute city girl she’d been before the outbreak. but spending hours under a tree sketching away with no one else in sight wasn’t a rare occurrence for her.

someone else with the same idea though, that didn’t happen everyday.

“sorry. i’m not used to seeing anyone around here.” she steps back, gives the woman and her plant clipping a wide berth as she holds up her hands in order to placate any ire directed in her direction “just looking for a quiet spot to get some work done.”

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“it’s okay. just... watch these, don’t tread on these,” she insists, grateful her first request had been heard. “or anything else, if you can. there’s a lot here that’s been missed.” 

and she’d be damned if she missed out on taking some for herself in between making little stocks for the clinic. with medicines a rarity these days, it’d do them well to have a different source of treatments. and it’s the least she could do for all the help she’d been given to this point, anyway.

“you’re... working out here?” she continues. “like, on the farm too, or...?”

[rinamunroe]

— ingenuouslys​ ;

feng’s gotten much better at being around strangers—it’s hard not to, when the townsfolk come and go so often—but sometimes he still finds it overwhelming. on good days, he hides out in his little studio, but on bad days the tiny space feels too much like the home he shared with his mother, and he can barely spend two minutes in there without feeling claustrophobic. 

it’s a bad day today, and he’s on his way to the farm for a little peace and quiet. he likes the open sky over the farm; sometimes spend entire afternoons just lying in the overgrown fields surrounding the farm, watching as the clouds drift by.

he’s surprised to bump into someone on the usually deserted path, and he hadn’t noticed her at all crouched among the weeds. “sorry,” he says instinctively, and he’s just about to side-step her cuttings and continue on his way when a flash of green in her hair catches his eye. “you have… grass in your…” he tells her, gesturing at the right side of his head.

he can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s ever initiated conversations with strangers, and it’s never happened on a bad day before, but he can’t deny that he’s curious about what she’s up to. and despite her wary gaze and clipped tone of voice, the bit of dried grass in her hair is more endearing than intimidating. 

“what are you doing?” he asks, crouching down next to her. “can i help?”

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a frown greets his words and rina reaches up to her hair to take away the pesky blade she definitely hadn’t noticed attach itself to the long strands tied back loosely. she smiles small, tossing it away with a nod of thanks and she’s about to return her attention to the clippings when he doesn’t... leave. doesn’t carry on his way to continue his day, acknowledging her all the more instead.

and when he crouches beside her, she’s careful to watch where his feet land, shifting the clippings out of dangers sake. her fingers adjust the sling, before she quietly motions to the plants she’d been snipping at.

“it’s yellow root,” she tells him. “it’s a medicinal plant. i don’t think anyone noticed it. which, is a shame. because this stuff helps with things like upset stomachs.”

a brow raises at his request however and she’s in the right mind to tell him no, that it’s a delicate process and like hell would she risk him killing this little source of help. 

but then she sees his little face, and well, how could she?

“look — you don’t take too much. just little bits. you don’t want to kill it, otherwise you lose your source and it becomes useless.” rina shows him, brushing her fingers over leaves and stems she hadn’t picked at yet.

“you never take more than you need.”

[rinamunroe]

— kaz-raval​ ;

Curses weren’t often heard (no one loved a good and purposeful shout of fuck the way Kaz seemed to). He glanced over while walking. Came to a very abrupt halt for a double take. Fucking hell. Was it– Rina?

He began a quick walk over, heart thumping at a rabbit’s pace. A small part of Kaz was happy to see her alive. A question on a long list of them to finally tick off. Rina was okay. 

A larger part wondered why. Why here, of all places? What cosmic debt did he owe and was being squeezed for in this hell hole? Why couldn’t he simply be left alone? The baggage of Bishan already thrown in his face on the regular. Now he’d have to deal with Rina too. 

He looked at her– Rina’s lighter eyes stared back but with a similar concern on the brow. Like himself. Kaz crouched down and took the broken handled bag. His gaze settled on picking up and tossing the spilled vegetables inside. “Hey.” Most comments didn’t warrant emotion from Kaz. He had so few to spare lately. 

But what did one even say to someone they had nothing in common with, other than a selfishly cruel parent who threw three siblings together without warning? “I…” Another false start before a pause in helping with the vegetables. His gaze finally reached hers again. “Didn’t expect to see you here. You’re alright, yeah?”

Another fuck, one he held on his tongue with the realization. Was he there too? “Is it just you?”

-

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“hi,” she murmurs, watching as kaz began to help fill the bag back up again. helping her. 

and even that feels like whiplash, if she were honest.

it’s terribly different, to see him so awkward. truly, she’d have thought him something else; a reaction closer to the one back at the house. not a home, not their home. the house. a roof over their head and nothing more.

“mostly. i’ll get there.” it’s as honest as an answer she can give, flexing the fingers in her sling with a small crease between her brows because this might just be the very first time kaz has ever asked if she’s alright and, whether or not he means it, or cares to hear the answer, doesn’t matter. that by itself is a shock all on its own.

“just me. he’s not here, don’t worry.” rina shrugs, and looks back down at the task at hand. “he left me at the start of everything. so.” she sucks on her teeth. “you don’t need to do this, either. i got it.”

[rinamunroe]

— benny-chanda​ ;

Bishan scoffed at her comment. The dead might be walking, but he was never going to not swear every chance he got. He bit the inside of his mouth with an annoyance on his face. “Yeah, you the swear police?” Oh the fuck, was he five or something. 

Her question didn’t catch him by surprise, though it did enough to get him to raise an eyebrow. She always seemed to insist on carrying this sweetness and care about her. He always wondered how faked it was, and he had simply never cared. Because he had wanted to hate his dad’s other family. His real family. 

“Obviously. And obviously you ain’t.” He paused. “Please tell me you didn’t bring dad.” 

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and of course he skips to their father. because why else would he bother to stick around long enough to share a few words with her? how lucky she is. though, despite the salt and how terribly bitter she feels, it’s... nice. in a way. to even hear he notices that she isn’t so hot on her feet. to have him stand with her for second longer than simply insulting her and belittling her and reminding her she’s never belonged anywhere.

“no. he’s not here. and no, i don’t know where he is or if he’s alive. he left me. you all have that in common.”

[rinamunroe]

— benny-chanda​ ;

When he had been a guard, he’d been aware of almost every single person who went through the gate. He interviewed some of them, checked most bags, and was an asshole to a lot. Now he would just have to wait and see what new faces he saw around Fairvale in the days that followed a new load of people coming in. And he hated it. Being in control and in power had been his favourite thing about being a guard. Now all he could control was which jobs were done in maintenance. Not even all employees listened to him completely.

He was making his way to the playground to fix the swing - AGAIN. And was looking at the list of other things he planned to get done for the day when someone bumped into him. He clearly won in the weightclass because he barely budged, but it was enough to spark irritation. “Puta madre,” he sweared. ”Watch where you’re going!”

The voice though, he looked up, one eyebrow raised at the familiar face. “I better still be fucking dreaming.” Kaz AND Rina, no way.

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“oh, good, the dead are walking but god forbid you lose your fuckin’ mouth.”

would it be too much to ask for, to have him see her and maybe find a sense of relief? that at least his wasn’t alone, and he had family still? or is still a foolish thing to hope for considering bishan had no problem in blowing up their father’s phone in the attempt to contact him but left hers dead silent.

prick.

rubbing her arm over her sling, rina bites down on her tongue, fighting to settle the overwhelming combination of irritation towards her brother and the disappointment all at once.

“so, are you... alright, then?”

[rinamunroe]

— southernrays​ ;

There was so much hooting and hollering going on that day that Ray was a little worried. Not worried of the regulars and their normal shenanigans - Ray was stronger and much more sober, so if they needed to be kicked out it would not be hard to muscle them out of the door - but more so of the potential vomit situation that went along with binge drinking in the middle of the day. He walked around the bar, giving them a wide berth, and focused on the sole occupant of a corner table in the back of the Hard Times.

The person before him was new. Or, at least, Ray had not seen her around town yet so she was new to him. It was refreshing, to always have new faces in the crowd to learn, new people to befriend, and Ray hoped it stayed that way. Fairvale could continue to grow and exist in the awful world they’ve been stuck with.

“I reckon it depends on the day,” Ray said with a kind smile. He looked back over his shoulder at Harold and the boys running amok. “We’ve recently gotten some new drinks and it appears to have… raised their spirits as well.” Heaven help Ray and his bad puns. 

Ray sat the drink down in front of her, leaning in like he was sharing a secret. He was clear of this new stranger’s personal space, but it allowed him to drop his voice a bit. “If it makes ya feel any better, I’ve replaced ‘bout 80% of their liquor with water and they haven’t noticed yet.”

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“raised them a bit too high and beyond, if you ask me,” rina snorts, eyeing the drink with a mild interest. it’d need to be her last one, she thinks. mixing pain relief and alcohol isn’t the smartest thing to do and yet it’s perhaps one of the better decisions she’s made when it came to the good old alcohol and drugs mix. 

she shudders at the thought.

and while the bartender remains uncomfortably close, his reassurances beckon a rare sorts of grin from her with a bonus of a small laugh. “is that something that happens often, too?” she questions. “watered down alcohol?” it’s about then that she brings her new drink to her lips with narrowed eyes, taking a sip and smacking her lips with a playful suspicion. 

“did you water down mine?”

[thecatastrophicrpg]

RINA MUNROE is a TWENTY-FIVE YEAR OLD farmhand originally from TORONTO, CANADA who has JUST ARRIVED in fairvale. she is often described as COMPASSIONATE, ACCEPTING & CONFIDENT but can also be SNARKY, HEADSTRONG & DIFFICULT.

it's a difficult thing, to be raised in a home without acknowledgement.

ever since rina could remember, she'd lived as a ghost in her own home. her mother's greatest mistake, perhaps, when her father expected a son instead of a daughter. and one might think he might take pride in that, love her the most of his children, only, rina never saw him often. a passing face in the crowd that entered her mother's home. and rina didn't mind, not one bit, keeping to herself and away until her mother uprooted her to live with her father and two brothers she didn't know she had.

like father, like son, bishan and kaz cared nothing for her, despite the efforts she placed in winning them over. a family is all she ever wanted and to be denied such a thing again left her cold. bishan, the worst of the pair with his consistent bullying and degradation for being the new runt of the litter. kaz, and his explosive anger and insistence that ever wrong in his life is now her fault. such cruelty didn't put her off her dream and even as they disappeared from her life, one by one, rina never gave up on the idea that maybe one day, they'd be a unit that took care of each other.

upon being abandoned by her mother in death and left behind by her brothers, rina's place with her father became a war zone. rebellion was the only thing on her mind and escaping him a priority. unlike the boys who bowed to his word and his lessons, rina fought back. whatever he took, she found a way to give it back. whatever he asked of her, she denied it of him. when he raised a hand to her, she raised a fist in return.

the little ghost who loved flowers grew horns.

still, perhaps it's no surprise that rina fell into selling drugs on the side of her job as a waitress in an old cafe. a little extra money on the side to help her survive her father's neglect and pave a way to escaping his hold on her. it isn't something she ever took pride in, but there were perks to dealing rina couldn't deny. benefits, even. a little something to calm her nerves.

at the age of twenty, rina made her way out of the city and away from the family who didn't want her, choosing a life in a new state where nobody knew her name.

and it's an unknown face passing by she remained until all hell broke loose and demanded her father's daughter to rise once more.

fc: anya chalotra

blog: rinamunroe

[rinamunroe]

where: the path towards the farm who: @thecatastrophicstarters​ ( open. )

it’s surrounded by overgrowth and weeds but, she’s sure of it. an easy and useful gem hidden away on the outskirts of the farm. she’s not surprised someone may have missed it, all things considered and perhaps there’s simply no one else with an eye for such things around here. not that it mattered; because she’d found it. and she’d take care of it better, anyway.

and she’s already got a nice few cuttings of it sat beside her on the ground as she sits before it, trimming away just enough to give her plenty to work with and perhaps encourage the growth of more while leaving the plant alone to recover on its own. 

hearing footsteps coming up the path, however, rina turns and places a hand protectively over her cuttings, eyeing the stranger carefully.

“watch where you’re stepping. you ruin these and the clinic loses out.”

[rinamunroe]

where: the library who: @not-that-kinda-bj​

it’s a balancing act; a performance she’s sure should belong in the circus and yet she’s doing it here, in the library, unassisted like like a fool purposefully looking for an excuse to put her other arm in her sling, or maybe her toes in a cast, should the tomes fall from her arms without grace. books about gardening lay in her good arm, the fingers of her bad one keeping some in place while her chin did the rest to keep them steady.

she’s doing rather well, if she might say so herself.

still, it’s not going to be an easy job in putting them down on the counter and so when she reaches it and sees the woman sitting there jotting away in her notebook, rina whistles quietly to get her attention, offering an awkward and crooked smile as she asks;

“a little help, maybe?”

[rinamunroe]

where: the clinic who: @losing-faith-in-what-you-made-up​

a check up is the last thing she wanted and yet, here she is, keeping to her word about making sure she didn’t over do it with her sprained wrist and the promise of getting it reviewed within a week. it still sucked, still got in the way and while she’d managed so far, somehow, she grew tiresome of the aches and pains and the way it kept her from doing her new ‘job’ efficiently. 

“there’s no one here,” she grumbles, leaning back in the waiting room chair, muttering to herself through gritted teeth.

“why is taking so damn long?”

[rinamunroe]

where: common grounds who: @yahnaa-padney​

try as she might to keep with this whole independent and needing no one shtick she’d decided on the moment she’d entered the town; it wasn’t working. not with an arm in a sling and the overwhelming feeling of being around people again. people who took the time to acknowledge her, who didn’t just see her as a passing face. funny, how terrible it is to go from being unknown to suddenly have folks wanting to know your name. 

undesirable, to say the least.

and this morning is no different in her battle to keep to herself, how she stands before the entrance of the cafe ready to leave with her breakfast sandwich tucked under her arm and her free hand filled with a cup of tea. the struggle is silly, how she isn’t sure how she’s going to get out by herself and it’s with defeat that she turns towards a girl finishing up her own breakfast, her voice quiet and annoyed.

“could you get the door for me, please? since, you know — “ rina gestures to her arm. “i’m useless.”

[rinamunroe]

where: hard times tavern who: @southernrays​

it’s a terribly difficult thing, to sit within such a boisterous crowd. she’d assumed the tavern would be quieter this time in the evening, assumed most would begin to fall through the doors nearer to sundown and yet, here they all were, knocking back drinks that certainly didn’t taste of much and murmuring between themselves as if it’s another normal day passing by.

and she’s not entirely sure shes found her footing yet, the kind that meant she’d stay a little longer and simply enjoy the fact that she’d found society again — even if it came with her brothers — and perhaps it shows enough on her face how simply out of her comfort zone she is when the bartender comes to her table in the furthest corner with another drink in hand for her.

“is it always like this?” she asks, nodding to the patrons. “so... rowdy?”

[yenneferblog]

arunchalotra.photo: Ready and salted

[primulaceas]

Mary Oliver, “Dogfish.” Dream Work

[rinamunroe]

where: somewhere leading away from the farm who: @kaz-raval​

the sling is a nuisance she didn’t want to have time for, though there’s at least the acknowledgement she needed it for now until she could flex her fingers without wanting to cry again. suppose it’s nice though, to be back in the familiar setting of greenery and growth and all the things she adored. a well deserved break, she thinks, from all the death and the surviving and never knowing if tomorrow would be it.

hung over her good shoulder sits a bag of random vegetables, ones with the intention of coming back to her little apartment assigned for her in a block that felt far too overwhelming after life outside of the walls and while she’s sure she’s got a hang of it, while she’s certain it’s safe with her, she can’t help the absolute distraught amount of disappointment that gathers into her features when the handle snaps and her winnings fall all over the floor.

“for the love of — really?” she hisses, kneeling down to begin the irritating task of putting everything back. “and a fuck you to you, too.”

and while she cusses and groans at the vegetables that most certainly wouldn’t answer her back, rina doesn’t notice the man walking towards her. not until his feet stand in her line of sight and he towers over her form and god, what a sight she didn’t expect to see, nor did she want to see, the moment she looks up.

how odd it is, that she still feels old hopes rise up.