putting the art in he[art] @roxy-robert - Tumblr Blog

child’s play ⊚ nicholas and roxy

xnicholaslancaster·:

—moments ticked away slowly whilst expecting to listen to an explanation for the reason both regarding the state of her and behind her unexpected visit. thought concerned, Nicholas was not going to push her to hurry it up and out with it; generally, he was a rather patient man, even when he could be rather impatient when it came to certain matters. there was silence in the room for a few moments, and he discreetly aiming solely in allowing Roxy a little while to collect herself before she could tell him what was really going on that had her so rattled up. nothing could prepare him, however, for the words she uttered.

Natalia Lowe…one of the children is missing.

“since the morning?” it was not really a question even if it was spoken like one. fuck, fuck. he thought, over and over. he damn well knew they had security, they had rules, this shouldn’t have happened. even though the first real question that popped into his mind, flashing, was why was he only being told now. it was hours since morning and the child, had she been able to sneak out of the camp in some way, could really be anywhere now. or worse. but looking at her he deemed it was not worth it to berate her about it now, they could do their best and look for the child in hopes of finding her well and alive. so he took in a quiet breath and nodded, more to himself than her, as he was conducted a plan in mind. “where did you last see her?” he question, voice calm. he needed to make a clear layout of where she could possibly be, the direction she could have headed, all little crucial details in finding her. but it did not help that it was so damn cold outside today. he was aware that both the girl missing and her older sister were orphaned, so there was no point in asking if anyone else had looked for her.

Lancaster made quick work in picking out so stuff before putting on a jacket over his t-shirt. and then he looked for one to give to her, for she looked like she had taken her fair share of freezing for the day. handing her a jacket he spoke. holding her gaze for a second, he sighed quietly. “hey, we will find her…” he sounded reassuring, and though he was not certain that they would and if they do find her what state she’d be in, he wanted Roxanne to not feel solely responsible for what happened. “Calypso,” he called to the dog and she rushed to his side, ready. “let’s go.” the leader then nodded, petting her head a little before moving to open the door.

the warm air had soothed roxy’s chapped throat, and she managed to swallow what little saliva her mouth had somehow produced. fuck, she swore. fuck, fuck, fuck. “i last saw her when i dismissed the children from their lessons today,” roxy answered slowly as she reached for the words, teeth still chattering with every uttered consonant. “around maybe ten-thirty?” her mind buzzed. “eleven? shit...” her cursing was harsh and uncharacteristic, but roxy was reaching, hard, for the answers she knew nicholas needed. “around th-then. the kids went to play tag or hide and seek and-”

she watched with a creased brow and solemn eyes as nicholas zipped from one room to the other, slipping on an extra layer over his tee. she could tell from his expression that he was both deep in thought and listening intently. “i had hoped to find prints in the snow but i’m worried it’s too late,” she admitted. she had been searching for over an hour, and the amount of time that had passed since natalia had been seen was far too great. the sun had already trekked down to the horizon, turning the landscape into grayscale.

nicholas pushed something into her frozen hands, and roxy was taken by the tenderness of his voice. he could easily have given her an earful, but his understanding nature had somehow compelled her to try again. despite her broken spirit, she gave a fierce nod, taking his jacket and slipping it on. roxy took in a deep breath, despite the protest from her freeze-dried lungs, trying to find her bearings as nicholas had made his way to the door with calypso. now that she had asked for help, the mission seemed less daunting, and more possible. with a slow exhale through pursed lips, roxy tried to expel the anxiety that plagued her.

looking at nicholas, she gave another nod, this time adding a determined, yet hopeful, smile that said ‘i’m ready’. the little girl couldn’t have gotten far on her own, and the odds of either of them encountering a walker was next to nothing in these weather conditions. though she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still the one responsible, roxy had a new determination to fix it.

#child's play #xnicholaslancaster

adrianestrada-survives

Music Therapy || Roxy & Adrian

roxy-robert

adrianestrada-survives·:

Adrian slowly made his way into the room, each step almost asking for permission. Even though it’d almost been a year with this group, there were still rooms like this that were completely unfamiliar. Adrian was afraid that his intrusion into what very much felt like Roxy’s domain might be akin to someone coming in and stepping all over his vegetables.

He smirked at the mention of the potatoes. “I’ll never get bored of potatoes, trust me,” Adrian replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. Should he admit that he got kicked out by his helpers? That he was stressing them all out with his own anxiety that they couldn’t bear to be around him anymore? Adrian thought better of it. “I just… Was getting cold. Thought I might warm up inside for a while before I head back out there.”

“What are you doing here without the, uh, kids?” Adrian asked. Maybe I’m not the only one obsessed with work around here, he thought to himself.

roxy nodded, listening intently, unaware of adrian’s lie. “yeah, it’s still chilly out there,” she replied, still embracing the dark body of the guitar with a light touch. her fingers stank of steel, and the tips were tinged a graphite gray from playing so long. how long had she been there, playing alone? she often lost track of time these days, only having a general sense of time from the meal bells. the days were sluggish and like clockwork, and as they melded together, roxy sometimes found herself losing track of the days as well. if the children didn’t show up at the schoolhouse by 8 am, roxy just assumed that it was the weekend. she’d ought to make a calendar, but had been pushing it off.

to his question, she just smiled. adrian was always working in the field, and likewise, she was always doting around somewhere near the school with her guitar. in truth, she, too, had been looking for an escape from the cold. “i sometimes like to stay a little after they leave, just in case someone forgets something,” she answered sweetly.

she hardly wanted to admit that she had almost nothing else to do. practicing in the makeshift classroom felt much less lonely than practicing in her less-than-stately cabin. at least here, there was the off-chance that someone would stop by. it seemed those odds were in roxy’s favor that day.

“did you need something, then?” roxy asked. usually if people dropped by, they were looking for a book, or maybe some extra chairs. “i hope you’re not about to ask me to dig up some potatoes today,” she half-joked, brandishing her stinging fingers in front of her face with a graceful wave.

#music therapy #adrianestrada-survives

adrianestrada-survives

Music Therapy || Roxy & Adrian

roxy-robert

adrianestrada-survives·:

Adrian was usually allowed to take at least a day off once a week. He never did use it though, playing a helicopter parent to his crops and animals while the extra workers went about trying to fill in for him. The head farmer was sure that they hated these days the most, with him constantly behind them telling them what minute detail they’d forgotten, how they could improve, and depending on how foul his mood was, berating them on perceived failures. Today, he’d been pushed out, his coworkers insisting that he take a break and essentially banning Adrian from going outside.

Relax. How was he supposed to do that with so many hungry mouths depending on him? Rest. How was he supposed to cat nap when anytime Adrian slept, he had nightmares that made him twist in his sheets and wake up with a cold sweat?

For now, he was practically just pacing back and forth around the camp, exploring rooms Adrian had never thought to step foot in before. Everyone else was going out about their days, seeming so useful, and for one of the first times since joining the camp, he just felt… Lost. Useless. And then he heard the sounds of guitar strings. Following the sound, Adrian found himself at the door frame of the classroom, hands crossed over his chest. He leaned against the frame and listened to the soft sounds quietly, closing his eyes for a long moment.

“Finalmente…” Something to distract from the screaming. His eyes opened when he realized he’d spoken, Adrian’s eyes meeting Roxy’s. He ducked his head, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. It, uh… It was good. You were good.”

roxy looked up from where she was perched atop the oak desk, sitting on one of her folded legs while the other had been dangling, swinging in time with every soft strum that emitted from the beat up instrument. it wasn’t hers--she had found it among some of the miscellaneous other belongings that were in the storage closet in the back of the classroom. back in the day, it would surely have been a beautiful instrument... if she hadn’t found it when she did, it would have made a great meal for the termites.

the last chord of ray lamontagne’s “trouble” still rang in the air as she met eyes with adrian. “thank you,” she said humbly, though her eyes were wide with surprise. roxy was neither shy nor arrogant when it came to music: she had outgrown stage fright many a year ago. she, however, was surprised to see the head farmer so far away from the fields that he had been tending to so feverishly the last few weeks.

folding her hands into eachother, roxy bit hard into the flesh in her cheek as she felt her raw fingertips brush against the skin of her other hand. leaning over the top of the guitar, she gave a sweet smile. roxy shifted her weight from one leg to the other, pulling up the one that was dangling so that she could cross them both under her. “what’cha doin’ over here?” she asked, brow raised. “that bored of your potatoes already?”

#adrianestrada-survives #music therapy

adrianestrada-survives·:

He blinked, not realizing he’d just made a pun. “Oh, don’t give me the credit on that one,” Adrian chuckled softly, “I’m only funny on accident.” He had a sense of humor before. Before all of this. It only came out in brief spurts these days, mostly when Adrian was trying to hide the fact that he was worried he’d fail his job.

Roxy’s idea was brilliant. This entire time, Adrian had been trying to figure out where in his day he was going to negotiate getting the supplies and then take away the workers from their other everyday duties. “Actually, that’d be great. It’d be nice for the kids to get a taste of work, too,” Adrian replied, remembering his own youth working with his mother, “If you’re sure the supplies can be spared – it looks like you need an extra coat yourself.” Adrian nodded towards Roxy’s crossed arms, the wind blowing small wisps of hair around her face. He started to shrug off his own coat. “Here, take mine. A returned favor for letting me steal your class away for work.”

roxy smiled brilliantly, her eyes lighting up at his response.·“brilliant!” she exclaimed, looking out once again at the crops that were popping out their little green heads.

at his insistence that she take his coat, she shook her head humbly. she ate less at meals because she had no need for any egregious amounts of energy like the hunters and laborers of the camp, and this was no different.·“thank you,” she said with a bow of her head. meeting adrian's eyes with her own, she added, with confidence:·“you need the extra coat. i’m inside all day, but you’re out here working to feed all of us.” her tone was thoughtful, kind. there was no need to spare her a coat when she’d be heading off to her own quarters soon.

arms still crossed, she nudged the head farmer with a grin.·“so, when do they start?”

#//literally every interaction roxy has she is COLD XD #adrianestrada-survives

adrianestrada-survives·:

He crossed his arms over his shoulder and sighed yet again at the fruits of his labor growing slowly outside. “So, it boils down to what the kids need more: clothes or food?” Adrian asked darkly, mostly a rhetorical question. That was one thing he had such a hard time with. Before all of this, he was just a civilian. Sure, he hadn’t loved the politicians – hated some, in fact – but he missed the comfort of not having to make the hard decisions, affecting the whole community. He shook his head. “No, you’re right though. I’ll figure something else out.”

Following her eyes, Adrian smiled at the green he did see in the field. “We’ve got a lot out there. I’m personally rooting for the potatoes. I’d kill for some mashed potatoes and gravy right now.”

roxy smiled, nodding at the pointillism of green that speckled her vision. the sprouting tops of the plants were hard to miss in the landscape of soil. “rooting for the potatoes,” she emphasized, unaware of whether the pun was intentional or not. “good one.”

“i’m sure that they kids would be happy to spare their old clothes, though,” she added. “it could be a little art project for them. i’m sure you could use some extra hands on deck, too.” she crossed her arms as a gust blew by, and flyaway locks of hair whipped out of her hastily tied bun. “i was hoping to teach them something more than just how to read and write, anyway.”

ardiiente·:

taking a deep breath in, her chest rising softly as umber dark orbs watch deep into the darkness. patrol was easy for her, having a schedule, protecting everyone within the walls of the sanctuary. it was a quiet night, there hadn’t even been a dead one at the gates since sundown. for a moment she let her guard down, taking a moment to rest her back against a tree. her gun was pushed off to the side of her body, nimble fingers moving to her pocket, fumbling to find the smooshed pack of cigarettes, inching one of the death sticks out of its paper home and in between her lips, the lighter following suit coming up, just as she’s about to spark the light she hears something… coming from behind her… a crack of a branch, a rustle of leaves and a light reflecting off the windows of near by buildings of the camp. her free hand moving to her weapon once more before moving swiftly from behind the tree confronting the source of the disturbance in her peace. spotting the figure, she lets go of the tension in her body, her mouth falling open agape before smiling softly & muttering under her breath in spanish; “maldito infierno, you frightened me…”

hands up to show she was unarmed, as she almost always was, roxy gave a meek smile. in the moonlight, her hair shone dark red, and her face was ghostly against the towering silhouettes of the trees that surrounded the camp. the last few weeks had been quiet around the camp, and with the approval of the head of security, roxy had been permitted to go on a quick walk around the perimeter. her escort, one of the guys on lookout, had left for a shift change, leaving roxy to rustle through the peaceful woods on her own, with the promise that she’d encounter one of the ground patrollers.

truthfully, she had been scared out of her wits, and nearly turned around to trek back to camp with him, but the dread of returning to her cold, empty bed had encouraged her to continue along, at least until she returned to the gates.

“i’ve been called many things,” she said to the woman with a teasing twinkle in her eye, “but frightening is not one of them.”

#ardiiente #//HELLO!

emergencyprotocols·:

Vaguely aware of someone approaching her, she looked over the peak of her shoulder at Roxy, squinting at her through the sun in her eyes as she stepped a little closer to the truck, watching the men unload it; to her delight, there were armfuls of wild mushrooms bundled up with strips of rope, bag after bag after bag of what she bet were rabbits and squirrels and other such small game– there was a deer, too, a small one, and she gasped as she watched one of the hunters haul it over his shoulder to carry it to the half-built shed in the corner– she wrinkled her nose at the stench; all blood and mud and grime– and he laughed, tossing a little smirk their way; “gotta feed them mouths somehow, princess. Fill the bellies.” he growled through his beard, rounding the truck and offering them a better look at the dead animal, making Liz startle and yelp in disgust. “doesn’t mean I have to like it!” she tossed back, turning now to look at Roxy to avoid the hunter, her face all scrunched up in horror, half annoyed, half amused at his little antics. “I hate this! go away, Henry!” she squeaked through her little grimace, making the man laugh a little warmer at her reaction and winking at Roxy before turning away, muttering a quiet little, “damn women,” under his breath as he walked away – it was all in good nature, of course; they were a little family, the whole pack of them, and Henry damn well knew just how sensitive Liz could be about hunting and meat; everybody knew she had been vegetarian for years before the end of the world; she hated seeing animals die just as much as she hated seeing people die. “god, he’s such a dick.” she exhaled, making sure he and his deer were a safe distance away from her before allowing herself to once more relax. “I mean I’m glad we’ve got food and all that but there’s no way I’m eating that deer– the poor thing!” she declared defiantly, her nose still all scrunched up in disgust at the thought of it.

roxy grinned, seeing the bounty that was carefully carried off the truck bed. her mind was racing... she had only been teaching for a few months since arriving to the camp, but it would be helpful in the long run to maybe have one of the farmers or hunters or soldiers make a guest appearance in the classroom. having a bootleg school at the camp gave a sense of normalcy to the circumstances, but in the long run, teaching the young ones about basic math and how to write in cursive just wasn’t going to cut it in the outside world.

her buzzing thoughts were interrupted by the smell of rust and liz’s yelp of disgust. roxy clicked her tongue in distaste at henry’s antics, rolling her eyes at the man. however, she still managed a light-hearted chuckle. it was little moments like this that reminded her that a sense of humor was one of the most important traits to have during a zombie apocalypse. roxy replied to his wink with a dismissive wave, but he had already resumed walking away, deer slung over his back haphazardly.

“sorry for laughing,” roxy said apologetically, turning to liz. “i respect your choice to stay vegetarian and he was totally out of pocket, bringing their game over here.” she smiled sweetly, adding in a mocking tone, “unfortunately, boys will be boys.”

#emergencyprotocols

roxy-robert

child’s play ⊚ nicholas and roxy

roxy-robert

xnicholaslancaster·:

—Calypso lounged lazily atop the furry bed covers, looking at him through the open door, her big eyes glued on him, watching him as he worked on some weaponry repairings, which was pretty much his area of expertise. fuck, he muttered under his breath, picking up piece by piece as he was putting the rifle back together. despite the snow that had covered the campsite, it was warm in the room, the woods in the fire crackling, casting everything in a cozy golden glow. the former military dog jumped off the bed and stood at the window, sniffing and whining a bit dramatically, making Nicholas laugh a little at her antics. “you want to go out, don’t you?” his tone playful, his attention momentarily on her before he got back to finish assembling the gun. he was about to tell her they were going to go out later when a female voice cut through the silence, calling him from outside. Roxanne? he wondered, what could be so important that made her sound so urged.

noticing Calypso standing on alert, he motioned for her to stay as he stood up to get the door. “what happened?” was the first thing he said as soon as he opened the door for her, noticing for the first time today how freaking cold it had gotten outside. she seemed a little roughed up like she had been out for a long, long time, which only made him more certain that something had happened. he stepped aside, allowing her room to enter. her hands looked purple, cheeks and nose red from the cold. “Roxy, what’s the matter?” he inquired again, gesturing for her to move to the fire, for she surely was a moment away from freezing to death.

washed in the glow of the fire that burned from nicholas’ fireplace, roxy’s disheveled appearance was all the more apparent, and she saw it reflected in the concern on his face. she shook off the sparse snowflakes that had nestled in her hair. her whole body was quivering: a product of both the cold, her anxiety, and fear. her eyes were wet, face streaked with icy trails of tears that had frozen from her panic-stricken and reckless search efforts. and her sweater--soaked from the light snowfall that had melted into the fine wool. she hadn’t even thought to put on a jacket before braving the cold. her glasses might as well have been frozen to her face.

roxy stomped her boots outside, careful to not track any snow or dirt into nicholas’ cabin. it was nice inside, fairly well-furnished compared to her’s. she definitely didn’t have a fireplace, that was for sure. stepping through the doorway, roxy crossed her arms over her small body, rubbing her shoulders and biceps furiously in an attempt to warm herself up more. what happened? he had asked her.

“N-NO TIME,” she managed to say through her chattering teeth. god! that fire was so tempting. she had moved past nicholas without even sparing him a glance, eyes drawn to the blaze like a moth. she shuffled closer to the fire, and hearing the little pants and whines from calypso in the bedroom, her frozen face managed to tug into a beautiful, but heartbroken, smile, thinking of remy, her own dog that she had left behind in new york, at paul’s insistence.

she turned her back to the fire, letting out a grimace as she painfully splayed her fingers behind her in an attempt to warm them up. speaking was fucking painful. her throat was dry and hoarse from calling out so much, but she swallowed whatever saliva her mouth could muster in order to talk. every word she uttered was hell, but she tried to speak with dignity regardless. time was ticking. “o-one of the ch-ch-children-”

she met nicholas’ worried gaze with her own, fighting the lump that had once again started to rise in her throat. “natalia, one of the lowe s-sisters. she’s been m-missing since this morning and there’s no tr-ace of her a-anywhere,” she sputtered out. she felt like a failure... she felt responsible. “i need your help,” she cracked, eyes welling up again.

#xnicholaslancaster #child's play #//ME TOOOOOOOO

lilac-rph

All I want is ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ Where things are happy.

Where things are nice. Safe. 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓂.

One day where things are ᴏᴋᴀʏ.

#//pillow talk #//q

⤜ lily collins ⤛ 𝓻𝓸𝔁𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓮 "𝐫𝐨𝐱𝐲" 𝓻𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓽, 28, she/her. roxy is a teacher at camp, but they used to be an art curator before the outbreak. they have been at the camp for 7 months. people say that they are ➳ talented, ➳ patient, and ➳ optimistic, but also ➳ sensitive, ➳ naive, and ➳ weak. that’s why they are called 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮. the only thing left reminding them of the time before the outbreak is 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒑.

#wl:intro #//super late but here it is!

adrianestrada-survives·:

“Fucking goddamn birds,” Adrian cursed under his breath, face pressed into his binoculars some of the he’d gotten from the hunters on their last supply run. “I thought these things flew south for the winter.”

With the winter season came a low amount of crops. This was the most downtime Adrian would ever have, but it was also the most crucial time. He knew that root vegetables grew well in the winter and had planted potatoes, turnips, radishes, and also was trying out the hardy cauliflower, but given so much time, he was watching over the things like a helicopter parent over their firstborn. The man watched as birds flew overhead, no doubt wanting to eat his hard work and tear it apart with their claws and beaks.

Sensing someone’s eyes on him, Adrian dropped the binoculars to hang around his neck and turned to give the person an exasperated sigh. “Ay dios mios… Either we take from our clothes supplies and make a few more scarecrows, or I’m going to have to go out there and wave my arms around like a lunatic.”

“THAT WOULD DEFINITELY BE A SIGHT,” said the teacher, squinting to see what exactly adrian was peering at. her eyesight was just short of terrible, and even with her glasses on, much of the world seemed to go in and out of focus.

“i had actually hoped that we could use some of those supplies for one of the kids that just hit her first growth spurt, so you may yet have to fend off those birds yourself,” she added, only half joking. genevieve, or ginny, as she was known around camp, had grown over 2 inches in the last month.

giving up on trying to spot what adrian was looking at, roxy redirected her attention to the crops he was tending to. “what is it that you’re growing over there?” she asked curiously.

#adrianestrada-survives

cross-legged in front of her cabin, roxy took a deep breath in, centering herself spiritually. it was early morning, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it was cold out. her breaths--slow and even, deep and low--were ghostly in the cold outdoor air. her meditation time was deeply sacred to her. as the days became shorter and the nights much colder, it was important for her to spend as much time in the daylight as possible. roxy’s face pointed skyward, towards the rising sun, neck arched gracefully.

her eyes were closed in reflection, but it was still easy to see the person that passed in front of her, casting a long shadow over her small figure. she clenched her jaw, for all of a second, once she felt the warmth of the sun leave her cheeks. eyes still closed, roxy cleared her throat, irritated. “THE BUDDHA SAYS THAT THERE ARE THREE THINGS THAT CAN’T BE HIDDEN FOR LONG: THE SUN, THE MOON, AND THE TRUTH,” she stated calmly, still focusing on her breathing. “if you really need me, which i kinda doubt, please move out of the way. i’m almost done.”

#wl:starters #//i tried i really did

emergencyprotocols·:

“hey– catch anything in the rat traps?” she quipped as she ventured a little closer to the group, a half-eaten apple in her left hand. Their men and women, they were capable– strong; they were good hunters, and Lancaster’s snares had been a fairly steady source of small game, but the weather had been harsh for days now, if not weeks, and the food sparse; everyone had been on edge, impatient, hoping for a better hunt today, what with the weather taking an unexpected (yet much wished for) turn for the better, if only for a few hours. Squinting softly against the glare of the sun now, she took another small bite of her fruit, and smiled a little, watching them unload the truck.

rat traps. roxy held in a laugh at how absurd that statement would have sounded a year ago, but now, it was the norm. winter meant safety, presumably, from the hordes that wandered beyond the confines of the encampment- their movements slowed with the chill that perforated every square inch of virginia. but, it also meant that their attempts at crops had all but frozen over every night. the nearby towns, too, were just as arable as the frosty soil--raided and emptied not only by their settlement, but by any other groups that had wandered through.

pulling up next to lis, roxy pursed her lips. “this hunt seems a little more promising than the last one,” she said hopefully. “i think.”

truth be told, roxy had cut back on her meal portions. there were others at camp that needed the sustenance more than her, but even she knew that they were struggling to find food.

#emergencyprotocols

emergencyprotocols·:

She feels a jagged rock of emotion in her throat, a clenching around her heart so tight and present, it feels like a fist, and the feeling turns to a lead weight hooked into her heart and dragging down into her gut relentlessly. “you just find a way to keep going- you just have to.” she whispers through her teeth, her voice wet and tight with the pain of it— of everything she’s lost– her mom; her brother; everything she ever thought she was gonna be– a whole life mapped out– how she was gonna graduate, be a nurse, and help people— how she was gonna travel to far away places, Africa, Eastern Europe– volunteer– do anything within her power to make her mom happy and proud– now: all those dreams gone and shattered, forever; mom, dead and rotting, unburied, half eaten, miles away from home– her brother, all alone out there, not knowing where she is; not knowing, how she had had to put a bullet through their mother’s head; how she had not been brave enough to go back and find her; bury her. “for those that couldn’t.” she swallows through the ache in her throat and shivers at the chill of the metal at their backs, pulls her cardigan tighter around her delicate shoulders. Roxy’s warm at her side; she’s real– her voice, too, is raw, trembling; she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, trying not to cry, but she can’t help the way her eyes round in grief and desperation at the sound of the other girl sniffling, how fragile she grows in the moments that follow.

She blinks dizzily, resting her chin on top of her knees as she looks over at Roxy, feeling her heart break at the sight of her all choked up and shaking– she, too, appears smaller, now, vulnerable; her hands are curled into little fists, gripping at her jacket, as though it’ll somehow shield her from the flood of emotion that surges through her chest– a fragile, delicate thing. “who did?” she whispers hoarsely, not wanting to pry.

roxy takes in lis’ words, contemplating them carefully. for those that couldn’t, she mused to herself, remembering paul’s fate. a shotgun to the chest, and when that didn’t cut it, being hacked away by an axe. in those moments, she had no love for him, only pity. the man of her dreams, reduced to a flesh-craving spectacle, left to turn in a convenience store. the rattle of his chains haunted her dreams... but what ate at her the most was that gina, her beloved little sicily gina robert, was nowhere to be sighted on that day. roxy couldn’t see herself going on for him, but the promise of seeing her daughter again--that was what powered every step.

with an unsteady breath, roxy stares out beyond the horizon. though she’s dirty, and her heart shattered at the thought of a little girl wandering the world without the guidance of a mother, she has an aura of serenity. it was her most admirable trait, as she had been told in the past. even on the brink of tears, there was something beautiful to behold about her--no, not just her, but the moment. the vulnerability, the honesty. everyone had done things, some of them unspeakable, to survive. but lis was right. you just have to carry on.

“THE OTHER PART OF MY HEART,” roxy says, swallowing hard. sometimes, she wished she had kept a photograph, a real one. of the little girl with the nest of warm orange curls of her mother and the kind brown eyes of her father. all she could muster up, if asked, was a portrait from memory sketched with leftover charcoal from a bonfire. “i won’t lie to you and tell you that she was an angel,” roxy admits with a small grin. “she’s a little spoiled, and has the attitude of a wall street wolf, but she’s my--”

roxy’s speech sputters to a halt. she’s my everything, she wants to say. she’s a ray of sun shining through the leaves in every tree, she’s unfinished ice cream cones and a nine p.m. sugar rush. she’s the girl they sing about in every song. spoiled, know-it-all, show-off, but with laughter like bells.

“she’s... out there somewhere,” roxy finishes, her voice bright with feigned hope, but eyes ripe with the threat of tears. “she’s a smart girl for her a-age,” she adds with a sniffle. she has a smile on her face, still facing away from lis. roxy knows if she meets eyes with the other woman, her façade of optimism will crumble.

child’s play ⊚ nicholas and roxy

the last hour had been a living nightmare. roxy had been shuffling around in the snow, her boots soaked and fingers nearly purple from the layer of snow that had covered the dirt walkways of the camp. winter had settled in, blanketing the camp in a glaze of peace that roxy had contemplated trying to capture that morning using some colored pencils during the kid’s art session.

natalia lowe had gone missing shortly after that, during a game of hide and seek.

since then, with the help of natalia’s 12-year-old sister ginny, roxy had knocked on every door, searched every thicket, and harassed every passerby. she’s got to be here somewhere, roxy told herself. she’s a small girl but this is a small camp... but with every minute that passed, roxy grew more and more frantic. she was running out of places to look.

she had been pacing outside the cabin for a good moment, trying to collect her thoughts on how to present the situation. there wasn’t p o s s i b l y any way that natalia could have left the camp, right? there were armed guards posted at the entrance, and since the start of the season, they had gotten an exodus of newcomers that had stumbled upon the enclosed haven... plenty of people should have seen a six-year-old in an orange hat.

“crap,” she murmured under her breath. with every moment that passed, it was another second that natalia would be spending cold and alone. swallowing the lump in her throat and striding up to the door, roxy gave a timid knock. then, more urgently, she tried again.

“nicholas!” she yelled, her soft voice cracking from the dry air (or was it fear?...). “please, are you in there?”

#child's play #xnicholaslancaster

rpxmusings

you can : break my 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 take my l i f e away

beat me hurt me ᴋɪʟʟ ᴍᴇ

BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD d o n ’ t t o u c h t h e m

#//pillow talk #//q

rpxmusings

when you were M A D E to P R O T E C T , what do you do when your work is done ? ?

#//pillow talk #//q

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