“Somebody just handed this to me and walked away.” He pulled his gaze away from the other, eyeing the beer in the clear plastic cup suspiciously. “What do you think, poisoned or spit in?" @scige
Maggie had been day-dreaming or something, nearly jumping out of her skin the moment Ronan thrust a slurpee in her direction. Taking in the flavour of the drink and then the blood on his shirt, Maggie took a small step back. “No. I don’t want revenge,” she said carefully, gesturing toward his shirt. “I can’t decide if I want that to be your blood or someone else’s.”
“Really?” Surprise flickered in his eyes. “I guess you truly are a better person than me, Maggie Lawrence.” Ronan scratched at one of the blood drops on his t-shirt almost self-consciously. A first for him. “It’s mine. I was popped in the face by a scorned lover." He gestured to his nose, which he knew from experience would be a light red with purple dusted across the bridge by this point. “Normally the stares don’t bother me, but, considering the current circumstances, I feel it’s best to cover up. I don’t particularly feel like talking to the police today.”
The announcement of a death at an event where the very few people you cared about were in attendance was quite unsettling, Ronan discovered. He blamed that anxiousness for why it took him so long to realize people were gawking at him, more than they usually did. It made sense, really. The manor of death had yet to be revealed, and with everything that had been happening recently, it was only natural that somebody with blood on their shirt would draw attention. What an unfortunate night to get punched in the nose by an angry boyfriend. “Throw this on me, would you, Mags?” Ronan thrust the coca-cola flavored slurpee he quickly bought into her hands. “Bring our relationship full circle. I know you’re still pissed about that time I dumped my smoothe on you and stole that man’s car.” @maglaws
srry for the ugly mobile post, i’m at work, but i’d love, love to get some carnival treads going! i’m gonna reply to open starters when i get home, but if you’d like a closed one from ronan, give this a like! if you have multiple characters just let me know which one <3
CISMALE — ever hear people say RONAN BARONE looks a lot like LORENZO ZURZOLO? I think HE is about 22, so it doesn’t really work. The BIOLOGY major is a JUNIOR that is from LIVINGSTONE, VERMONT. They can be COURAGEOUS, but they can also be DESTRUCTIVE. I think RONAN might be SHEEP. They are living in KIERAN.
aesthetics
spots of blood on white satin sheets, the first invigorating sip of coffee in the morning, hand-rolled cigarettes between paint stained fingers, waiting for a happy birthday call that never comes, the tempting smell of salt and grease as you walk past fast food restaurants, & running until every muscle is on fire
hello honeys, i am back after the absolute nightmare of the past two and a half months. i’ve missed this place dearly and am excited to get the ball rolling again. for anybody i haven’t met, my name is ashley! i’m gonna place my little bio for ronan under the cut, i’d love to plot with each and every one of you, so, pls, hmu
The stillness of the park would’ve been unnerving under different circumstances, especially with the events of the last few months. Dahlia thought that maybe if she’d never known Crista, that she might be afraid of the slow creak of the swing, the shadowed figure just outside the beam of the lamp on the trail in front of them. She almost was, the hint of paranoia tugging at her chest under the layers of numbness that she used as a weak protection, fingers wrapping tighter around the neck of the wine bottle she held. Walking closer, the chill in her spine seemed to dissipate, slow smile spreading over her lips when she could finally see his face. A fresh bruise darkened the skin around his eye, freshly dried blood had stained the flesh of his chin and neck, the collar of his shirt likely used to wipe it away. Her lips pouted, free hand reaching out, fingertips ghosting over the purpled skin before resting her palm against his cheek. “One of these days you’ll get hit so hard you go blind,” she scolds quietly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, setting the bottle of wine into his waiting hands. “What happened this time?” She sat on the swing beside him, head tilting curiously. “What heroic act led to that badge?” @ronxnb
Banned from his favorite bakery. Ronan didn’t have many reservations when it came to picking fights, but he typically made it a point to be on his best behavior in places he enjoyed; The bar with the couches instead of stools, the boxing gym tucked in an almost empty shopping plaza, the diner Dahlia waitressed at, and the bakery a block and a half from his dorm. He’d broken his unofficial rule today and, because of it, would never have one of their mouth watering chocolate croissants again. He was still deciding if it was worth it or not. His breath left in a rush as soft fingers traced over his most recent battle scar. The funk he was in immediately lifted, a rare genuine smile crinkling the skin around his eyes. The Dahlia effect, he fondly dubbed it. It seemed no matter how angry, or grumpy, or tortured he was feeling, she walked into the room and light followed. “I have always wanted a dog--but it’s unlikely. I’m mildly offended you haven’t realized I’m invincible yet.” Ronan readily accepted the bottle of alcohol, nipping at her chin as she pulled away from him. “Preventing an outbreak of affluenza, believe it or not.” The wine warmed his blood, and he was thankful he’d taken the time earlier to roll up the sleeves of his white t-shirt. “Some spiky haired brat cut in front of the line because he was an ‘instagram influencer,’ so I socked him in the nose. I was teaching him douchery has consequences. He did wap me in the face with his key fob, which I wasn’t expecting. I’ll give props where it’s due.”
to most, stacking books all day would be mindless. for maeve: it was a second home. leave it to her when looking for a job while at college to find one at a little used bookstore nestled away downtown. she swore she could get lost in here for hours. each book had a history, each page had an owner. yes, the girl may have been one of those people who enjoyed the smell of books. as she continued to try and categorize the new donations, her eye couldn’t help but wander over to the person about a foot away from her fingering through one of the books. “interesting choice.” her voice small yet loud enough to be heard. “I mean, good choice. not interesting. well, I mean it’s interesting but interesting has such a negative connotation in this light because english is a weird language.”
It took several seconds to register the soft voice was speaking to him. Ronan flipped the book over in his hands, really looking at the cover for the first time. It was vibrantly colored with a font so curved and feminine, he could barely make out the title. A romance book, if the heart shaped perfume bottle was anything to go by. “Is it? I’m not much of a reader. I was fanning myself with it. It’s nastier than Guy Fieri’s breath out there.” The boy pasted on a smile, pulling at the scab on his bottom lip. “If I promise to buy it, will you let me mooch your air conditioning for a little longer? I was already kicked out of the sex shop across the street, and the frozen yogurt place is too crowded.”
lying drunk in the trunk of a pick-up felt worlds away from the life they were now living. a world where kieran apner had been murdered in cold blood and michael green sat literally rotting in a morgue. it felt like something a round-faced juvenile version of the woman she’d become would do in search of a half-baked thrill on a saturday night, lolling out the sunroof with her skirt up round her waist. still, on a thursday night with the light from flickering street lamps dwindling violet found herself splayed across the truckbed of a hatchback, a blanket pulled up to her chest, staring at the stars she could still make out. “yo… do you ever think, like… maybe right now we’re not ourselves — we’re just like, a digital version of ourselves?” violet began, taking a swig from the bottle of bud she was slowly tearing the label away from, fingernail marks left in the sticky ghost of a logo. “like the whole… watershed thing, it’s not some weird god figure punishing us, but like, a social experiment or some super fucked up psychological profiling thing that charlie brooker’s gonna put on netflix… and we don’t know we’re not us, we’re just like, brainwave radio frequencies uploaded to this place…” perhaps it was the weed talking. she’d hit the blunt more than once that evening, but already violet felt like sparking up another, a restlessness in her pulse to be somewhere, do something, will away a state that ping-ponged between shit-scared and bored. “–but the real us is doped up in some receptor room monitoring our responses? does that make sense?” did she make sense? when was the last time anything in livingstone had made sense?
Blood dripped silently from his nose onto his bare chest. A scuffle at a nightclub had left him with one functioning button on his faded plaid shirt, the rest lost to the sticky floor and writhing bodies. The night was almost as ungodly hot as the day, so the extra exposed skin hardly fazed him. In fact, he was itching to get rid of the shirt entirely. The summer heat was making the fabric stick uncomfortably to his back. Exhaustion kept his arms weighted down by his sides, though. He couldn’t even bring himself to take a slug of the warm beer pressed against his thigh. A crease formed between his eyebrows as his tired mind tried to comprehend her words. “Would it matter if we were? I mean, unless realizing we’re in a simulation released us from it, nothing would change. We’d still have to deal with our lives and our problems, the only difference would be the knowledge it’s just a game, or a study, or whatever to a higher power.” Ronan wet his bottom lip, tasing faint traces of blood and strawberry lip gloss. “I don’t think I’m high enough for this conversation.”
CISMALE — ever hear people say RONAN BARONE looks a lot like LORENZO ZURZOLO? I think HE is about 22, so it doesn’t really work. The BIOLOGY major is a JUNIOR that is from LIVINGSTONE, VERMONT. They can be COURAGEOUS, but they can also be DESTRUCTIVE. I think RONAN might be SHEEP. They are living in KIERAN.
aesthetics
spots of blood on white satin sheets, the first invigorating sip of coffee in the morning, hand-rolled cigarettes between paint stained fingers, waiting for a happy birthday call that never comes, the tempting smell of salt and grease as you walk past fast food restaurants, & running until every muscle is on fire
hello honeys, i am back after the absolute nightmare of the past two and a half months. i’ve missed this place dearly and am excited to get the ball rolling again. for anybody i haven’t met, my name is ashley! i’m gonna place my little bio for ronan under the cut, i’d love to plot with each and every one of you, so, pls, hmu
ronan is the eldest of two boys born to extremely wealthy politicians. they may have entered the political arena with the intention to make the world a better place, but by the time ronan was born, they’d become much more obsessed with rising in the ranks, schmoozing the bureaucracy, and keeping up appearances. you couldn’t leave the house with a single hair out of place in the barone family. this meant that his parents openly preferred his brother: the golden boy. he was charismatic, engaging, well liked, and a star athlete whereas ronan preferred to sit under the bleachers with a cigarette, his sketchbook, and a small group of close friends
so when a girl overdosed on some pcp and the investigation lead the police to the barone’s front door, ronan was the obvious suspect
the boys were never particularly close, their parent’s bias creating a divide between the two of them, but when his brother sat on his bed crying to him about how scared he was, ronan was overcome with the need to protect him. that was what big brothers were supposed to do, right? and so ronan confessed to selling drugs; taking a plea deal that meant he’d spend two years in juvie before being released on his 18th birthday. his time in juvie was far from pleasurable. he was tall but scrawny, making him a prime target for bullying. on top of that, he didn’t see or hear from his family once. not even the brother who he’d sacrificed so much for
it seemed one of the guards felt sorry for him because he took it upon himself to teach ronan some basic self defense moves. he discovered his brother might not be the only star athlete in the family. soon he wasn’t just able to defend himself in a fight, he was winning. by the end of his sentence, no one dared lay a finger on him
the day he was released he was returned his now too small clothing and an envelope with a check for 10,000 dollars in it. it turned out his parents knew his brother was the one dealing all along and this was the first of his monthly hush payments. the knowledge that his parents knew he was innocent and still preferred his brother sparked an anger so hot inside of him that it finally killed off the soft, quiet spoken boy he once was
ronan, who had gotten his GED while in juvie, returned to his hometown and enrolled at gifford university. he was always a very intelligent kid, especially when it came to math and science, so he actually enjoys school. he’s majoring in biology, but his ultimate goal is to combine his love for science and art to become a textbook illustrator
you’d likely never guess he was a straight A student, though. he frequents an underground fight club as well as argues and picks fights with anyone who annoys him (which is most people). he’s almost always sporting bruises and his knuckles are permanently scabbed. he uses the hush money his parents send him to pay for his lavish housing, top notch art supplies, and anything else he desires
the only people that know he covered for his brother is him, his brother, and their parents. the boys look eerily similar and his brother always wore a hat and used an alias when he would deal, which is why it was so easy for ronan to cover for him
possible connections:
people he grew up with in livingstone. there are a lot of different options for this one. they could have been friends before he was arrested and they lost touch, or they were friends before he was arrested and they don’t like the person he’s become, or maybe they knew of each other before he was arrested but are just starting to get to know each other now)
close friends!! ronan is difficult, but when you worm into his heart, he’ll rip apart anyone that upset you
exes. they could have broken up when he went to juvie or it could be more recent
hook-ups. my boy is very sex positive
roommate(s)!! i’d love to have a roommate(s) for ronan. he lives in kieran
people who are friends with his brother (who did a semester at gifford, but is now a major league baseball player)
an ex of his brother’s, maybe??
cousins!!
a really interesting connection could be a family member or friend of the girl who overdosed on ronan’s (his brother’s) drugs
people he doesn’t get along with. ronan is a prickly pear who will pick a fight with just about anybody
somebody that’s a part of the same fight club as him
titsay
origamiaround
gummygunk
ellievsbear
discoholicmusic
