I'M EVERYWHERE.

modern  warfare's  valeria  by  ninja.

[scornpion]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐙𝐀  from  call  of  duty:  modern  warfare  ii. private,  selective,  headcanon  heavy  &  multiverse. 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝙽  𝙱𝚈  𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙹𝙰. she  /  her  ( 27. )   british.   established  september 2nd, 2023. read my rules! triggering  content  present  &  tagged.

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃 / / playlist / / development hub / / sideblog. find ask prompts here.

[scornpion]

#scornpion. read rules before following. 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐙𝐀 from call of duty: modern warfare ii. private, selective, multiverse & headcanon heavy. 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝙽  𝙱𝚈  𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙹𝙰. personals do not reblog. 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃.

[0azrael7-deactivated20250927]

he's manhandled as he's roughly guided, men much smaller than him attempting to assert their dominance and he doesn't resist. he's on a mission, after all. will suffer a certain level of degradation in order to get it done, even. hence why he's the one to face valeria, despite their previous encounters — prior to her escape and occupation of al mazrah. chin is held comfortably, not raised nor lowered, the spectre doesn't cower in her overbearing presence nor does he attempt to intimidate her. assumes from her chuckle he's achieving that already.

it has been some time, no? head dips in acknowledgement, though ghost doesn't speak. there's never been any space to interrupt the narco. she'll prowl her space like a keen lioness and she won't stand to be upstaged — certainly not in her own den. thus, simon holds his tongue, cradles it even, though that's likely due to his blossoming disinterest. something to do amid the tension he fails to feel. he's not here for the show, merely seeking to communicate the necessities. laswell metaphorically resides quietly in his ear, listening to the interaction. garza draws to an expectant pause and he shifts.

lips threaten to curve beneath balaclava, amused that valeria assumes he wouldn't be able to handle her guards if it came down to it. he could kill the two 'restraining' him in three swift movements. could kill her in a fourth. " it's not in my best interest t' do that, " he assures firmly, maintaining any eye contact she gives him. " 'n' i do have information. in exchange for it, i'll be expectin' something from you. " ghost pauses, studying her every move, every twist or twitch in her expression. a difficult woman to read — but simon doesn't need to. he knows from experience that no woman can ever be wholly trusted. realistically, just as no man can be. and valeria has proven more than once why trusting her will result solely in countless knives sticking out of bloodied back. maybe a slit throat, too.

          " don't need a promise from ya. just an acknowledgement — and an understandin' that if you go against me, i'll play arts 'n' crafts with your skull. " a reference she should get, relating to her precious sugar skulls. knows from his research that she pays respect to skeletal, godly figures; overseers of death and the afterlife. briefly considers how she might take such a threat from a reaper-esque figure such as himself. " 's about your newfound associate — makarov. " a solid stare. reel her in nice and slow, ghost, he hears laswell say. " ought'a know that if you want me t' continue, you're agreein' to said exchange. "

[scornpion]

i'll be expecting something from you. grin curls into something hungrier and tongue coyly peeks out over bottom lip, pinched playfully under top row of fangs. " straight to it, then, " valeria remarks, respecting his bluntness. a trait rarely encountered in her line of work. all talk — typically. suave, charming, charismatic. it takes time and precision to land outcomes. directness such as the soldier's could get her killed, were she to utilise it herself.

there are always plenty of people wholly capable of taking your life who need talking around to points and making decisions. that being said, she doesn't believe this 'ghost' to be quite as oblivious as say... the blanquito who'd wormed his way into her interrogation room on that fateful night. soap. no, the lieutenant speaks with certain intent. he knows the impact of his words. she wonders how many he'd spoken to that were similar to her, to adopt such certainty. head tilts and fingers wiggle thoughtfully at her sides as she considers his offer. then, with a flash of her palm, she commands her guards to leave the room. no creo que esto sea una buena idea, el sin— ( i don't think this is a good idea, el sin— ) eyes flare with warning as she interrupts them, " ¿he preguntado? ( did i ask? ) " she bites back with a glare.

          " ¿qué, no crees que pueda manejarlo? ( what, you don't think i can handle it? ) pinche culero, hazme caso. ( fucking coward, listen to me. ) ¡si te digo que te vayas, te vas! ( if i tell you to go, you go! ) " claro, el sin nombre. disculpas. ( of course, el sin nombre. apologies. ) the scorpion waits to be alone with ghost, her shoulders pressed back to feign confidence in his intimidating presence and silence. when the doors clunk shut, her gaze moves back to him. " a favour and a threat don't go well together, " she tells him, narrowing her eyelids. " here is the deal — you tell me what you want from me, and i will decide what it's worth. mm? whether your... information, as you put it, covers it. "

always bargaining, always looking for a more worthwhile and successful trade or deal. it's why she's where she is, why she's as renowned as she is. " if it's important enough that you tracked me down like this, i'm sure that won't be a problem. " lips purse into a soft, mocking pout. " will it? "

takes to circling him, keeping her distance but hoping to unnerve him all the same. it's what comes most naturally to her, this predatory behaviour, ever seeking the highest platform to loom from. chin lifts to gesture towards the door her guards reside behind, a daring quirk of her brow given. " seems to me that you sacrificed negotiation the second you stepped foot in my building. so, what's it gonna be? "

[0azrael7-deactivated20250927]

the bloody netherlands. that's where, of all places, el sin nombre has decided to set up shop. having been pushed out of al mazrah by, unbeknownst to them, konni forces, valeria garza had been busy since ghost had last crossed paths with her. between breaking out of prison, evading colonel vargas's forces and pursuing an unbreakable dynamic with al-qatala, what remained of her cartel had since been tasked with the distribution of stolen gas by milena romanova after the occupation of vondel. well, he can at least appreciate the cooler temperature this time around. anything but sodding mexico.

given konni's presence within the city however, it's no surprise security is tight. even post-london, with makarov having escaped, they remain watchful here. the peacekeepers is what laswell had told him they were going by. of fucking course they were. he's not on the job to have an opinion, and typically he's able to suppress anything brewing until it's done. but after what'd happened to johnny — the younger back home, hospitalised and hopeless... it takes a lot to remain on course. it's no challenge to locate the cartel. the trail of guns, gold, and obnoxious tattoos practically leads him to their doorstep. then again, he can't recall them having ever been covert. even with the world in pursuit of them...

protected by their own weapons, aq and konni, valeria's done well to fortify her previously-collapsing business. the spectre successfully clears the perimeter and proceeds undetected. getting caught isn't on the cards, he needs to speak to garza herself and has no interest in being interrupted. that being said, he could really do without this turning into a gunfight. the property is sizeable and he's conscious it's going to take a while to locate her without any guidance. " watcher, no sign'a the hvi yet. see anythin' useful? " drone surveillance lingers high up above him, undetectable and unnoticeable by konni. laswell informs him of increased cartel activity towards the north-east of the building. " affirm. i'll check it. "

between concealing himself behind foliage as guards pass by and stealthily rounding the estate, he makes his way to the north-east section of it and spots a tall trellis leading a vined plant up the wall. " standby - gonna attempt t' make entry. " his footing is cautious and he's conscious the wooden framing might not hold his weight as he starts to ascend up it. half-way up, it certainly begins to creak, prompting him to climb faster. at the top to the left resides a window ledge which he makes a leap for. skeletal fingers clutch at the grainy sill and he hangs there momentarily, before heaving himself up enough to peek through the glass. a guard can be seen feet away from him, encouraging him to tap and then duck out of sight, straining to free the knife at his chest.

as intended, the confused guard approaches and opens the window to peer out. shocked to come face to face with a skull mask, his visible pause gives ghost time to ram blade up into jaw. he pushes the body back out of the way, enabling him to clamber through and into the empty hall. nicely done, he hears laswell comment. the window is closed, weapon removed and he makes a point of hiding the body in a nearby cabinet. once clear, save for the spew of gore on the window, he begins his search — moving from room to room and concealing his presence within the darker corners and shadows. it doesn't take long for them to discover the mess of blood the deceased enemy had created, sending the guards into high alert.

he hears the order himself, and, instead of evading them, decides to risk stepping into their line of sight. knife is sheathed, hands are raised and he announces his intentions clearly. " i'm 'ere t' see el sin nombre, " their weapons are raised and aimed at him, voices loud as they question and attempt to restrain him. he lets them. " reckon she's gonna wanna hear what i 'ave t' say. " / @scornpion.

[scornpion]

el sin nombre, hay un intruso. recomendamos reubicación inmediato. ( el sin nombre, there is an intruder. we recommend immediate relocation. ) and just like that, her day had become a lot more interesting. a brow arches curiously, fearless despite the threat as chin lifts upwards. " ¿un intruso? ( an intruder? ) " lips quirk thoughtfully. " ¿quién? ( who? ) " who had dared to follow her all the way out here? had the nerve to track her down, like a hunter seeking deer.

she is no small game, no trophy to be stacked upon a wall. bared teeth, sharp claws and a tremendous attitude that will set any who cross her boundaries back in their place. in fact, the deer acts as the bait for them. she, the prowling predator up among the trees disguised. uno-cuatro-uno. ellos dicen tener información. ( one-four-one. they claim to have information. ) brows rise further, intrigue steady on her features. tongue sweeps across pursed lips. " ¿información? ¿para mí? ( information? for me? ) "

playful, delighted, hands clap together once and palms remain pressed. " órale. ( expressing approval. ) tráelos. ( bring them. ) " the command is given for the intruder to be brought in and valeria waits, teetering on impatient. bulked form shrouds the doorway, motionless and obedient in that they don't struggle against the force of her men — despite them clearly being twice the size. and upon noticing the skull mask directed back at her, familiarity is all too overwhelming.

nervous, valeria laughs to obscure her uncertainty. she doesn't fear any man — but she's not fucking stupid, either. knows just what this individual is capable of. " ¡el fantasma! ( the ghost! ) " expression feigns an enthused recognition. she won't succumb to the fury and frustration towards her men at this moment. will deal with their incompetence later.

          " what a surprise, " she announces, " it has been some time, no? " enough time for her to lick her wounds and come back stronger. " i take it you're not here lookin' for work, are you, soldado? " a head tilt, narrowing gaze. " my men tell me you have information, güey. am i to take it you're not here to repeat our last introduction? i'm afraid that, if you are, you're muy outnumbered. "

[scornpion]

@campnero asked: " this is normally where i put a gun to your head. " from alejandro.

helmeted head rests close to gun, cheek near pressed up against it as she clears corner after corner. flashbangs are thrown, threatless enemies are eliminated and civilian cut-outs are evaded as valeria manoeuvres through the course. the space is huge, one she's unfamiliar with — like the ridges of a lover's spine, prefers the metaphor of a jungle cat navigating a split-open ribcage. she's hungry for a win and with time, her muscle memory will develop, allowing her to prove herself to fellow members of the fuerzas especiales. all of her struggles end here. determination fills the cavity in her chest naively, brought on by let down after let down, valeria believes the fes will give her the freedom she's long desired. the power, the purpose.

and as she reaches and secures the final room, her gun's safety is flicked on. before she has time to celebrate however, the hairs on her nape stand to attention — warning of someone lingering. aquí es donde normalmente te pongo una pistola en la cabeza. recognises it to be the voice of one of her superiors; solely in work hierarchy. alejandro vargas, one of the first to meet her on her first day. first to make eyes at her, too. subtle, so subtle, he's respectable and clean in how he did it. but did it, nevertheless. garnered a sense of uncertainty within said eyes, too. wonders whether a woman in his line of work will prove to be an issue. wouldn't be the first time.

valeria is no stranger to the admiration of men around her, regardless of whether it's wanted or not. there's no hiding it from her. it's not necessarily what she'd anticipated nor hoped for, from a superior, but this time she supposes it isn't unwelcome. after all, it could come in handy later on. there's always a use for a man with a curious gaze and piqued interest. enthralled by his challenge and keen to impress any observing them, garza drops into a squat and spins, kicking out a leg in order to trip him. there's a brief tumble, controlled and contained as valeria looms over him. if it's deemed as inappropriate conduct, it goes over her head.

with alejandro on his back, she looks him dead in the eye — daringly smug. " aquí es donde normalmente te pongo una pistola en la cabeza. ( this is where i normally put a gun to your head. ) " a head tilt, followed by a charming smile, the soldier rises to her feet and offers out a glove-clad hand to him. " lo siento. ¿qué decías? ( i'm sorry. you were saying? ) " / meme.

[scornpion]

𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐯𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬.

difficult ( left ): you are an extremely difficult person to get along with ( 83.57%. ) likeable ( right ): you are a difficult person to like ( 32.14%. )

tagged by: @pistoiet.

[scornpion]

things your muse will notice about mine / do not reblog.

what they look like — first and foremost, everything about valeria is simulated. were you to make a direct comparison between who she once was, against who she is now, the differences would be vast. her posture is that of someone with authority, confidence, she exudes certainty. despite a height of 5'7, just tall enough to meet the requirements for the military, valeria depends on her imposing attitude to knock others' doubts flat. while her stance comes naturally to her these days, originally it took a lot of awareness and self-correction to maintain a straight back, open and broad shoulders, lifted chin — all important to her being deemed capable and secure. as a woman within the cartel, particularly in a higher position, it was integral that she appear as powerful and strong. her toned form helps her achieve this.

valeria's hair has been cut much shorter than it was pre-el sin nombre, both to reinvent her image while also in spite of alejandro ( who preferred her longer hair. ) her style is highly tactical, always fitted and adaptable so layers can be put on or taken off if required. her dark stare is intimidating and only enhanced by sharp, emotive brows. her shorter cut also draws attention to these features. valeria dons a number of tattoos, all of which hold meaning to her though these she typically prefers to keep out of sight. she's met men with tattoos who have quaked before her — thus she doesn't believe they mean you're tougher, and prefers to rely on her attitude and body language to promote this image.

nothing about her figure is elegant or sleek, and despite her being highly agile and lightweight she leans into exaggerating her form to appear more masculine — it should be said that in private or in the company of trusted companions she will position herself in more feminine ways. she is wholly capable of appearing sleek however, and enjoys engaging in painting her nails ( often with feminine colours. ) she also frequently dons her father's rosary around her neck, which is very sentimental to her.

what they smell like — the earthy, deep and pungent smell of mezcal, gardenia perfume — which creates an enchanting, sweet, floral scent with fruity undertones, maybe lingering copal incense which is powerfully sweet and citrusy — frequently used within the cartel for spiritual cleansing, connection and protection. the cartel also often burn candles, which tends to be the scent of red sangria — bright, citrusy notes. she likes to promote a homey, positive, comforting smell throughout the residences she resides in. valeria is a clean individual, with respect being paramount to her, and thus ensures she always smells good and clean. only when she's been directly in the vicinity of or involved in overseeing interrogation or confrontation might she smell strongly of blood or acrid gunpowder.

what they taste like — valeria is a lover of fruit, if she's going to taste like anything it's going to be something sweet or sharp and fruity. she enjoys promoting good, bodily health and despite her being the leader of a drug cartel — she's never taken or indulged in drugs herself. a former smoker, she no longer smokes due to not having enough time, but special forces valeria might've tasted of rich cigarettes. instead, valeria tries to incorporate fresh breath into her schedule, though rarely uses toothpaste or mouthwash that is overwhelming. along with her smell, an enjoyer of mezcal might leave her tasting subtly smoky with hints of vanilla, nuts and honey.

what they sound like — deep, provocative, captivating — both valeria's spanish and english is enunciated regardless of the speed she speaks at and often at a commanding volume. she's prone to acting coy and unassuming however, typically in a playful or mocking manner, and thus can also be heard speaking lowly in a smooth, honeyed and / or higher pitch than usual. even to those close to her, she can sound patronising and sometimes audacious, ensuring no one ever feels too comfortable or at home when interacting with her. familiarity is a no-go and respect is expected. her tone provides a sense of certainty and confidence, which is often exaggerated or forced — highly perfected, to make a point of never sounding doubtful or uncertain.

due to las almas being a fictional location, i place it to the north-west of mexico, meaning her accent is more influenced by america than further east or south. it resembles accents heard in baja california as well as sinaloa — with her frequently elongating each word as well as the roll of her r's. she is not afraid to raise or strain her voice, but does believe the idea of improving your argument over being loud.

what they feel like — valeria looks after her body, especially considering she seeks respect and believes the better you look and smell, the more respect you'll get. her skin is well cared for with a specific regime of moisturising ( a very subtle lemon scent ), and due to her having minimal time from being a busy individual she enjoys caring for herself where she can. this means her skin appears as healthy, sometimes with a slight, natural glow to it, though she alters the soft-look of it by wearing darker shades and countering eye-makeup. outside of this, she doesn't wear makeup which means her skin complexion depends on where she is, what she's doing and what she's been around. for example, prolonged exposure to heat, the sun and / or sandy environments might make it rougher, harsher and drier.

as she ages, her skin ages a few years younger than her, which can make her appear and feel younger than she is. her hair is silky in its current style — the longer it gets the fluffier and softer it becomes. verging on muscular, she keeps fit despite not favouring a fitness regime though this is largely due to her lifestyle, valeria is a very toned individual which can make her skin feel fitted ( not loose or taut ) and thick. she also prefers to shave the majority of her body hair, though tends to leave her arms alone.

[scornpion]

i do think valeria set very strict rules regarding the use of dr*gs within the cartel. i know she's largely inspired sandra ávila beltrán and ávila talks about how she never personally did c*caine as to the men, if you did do it, you were just 'another disposable woman' and that you wouldn't be respected. makes sense that it's made into such a big deal between diego and that one worker in mw2... will def touch more on this.

[vaquerros-deactivated20240511]

a hero and his muse. a hunter and his prized catch. SHE'S THE THING THAT KEEPS HIM UP AT NIGHT. the thing that keeps him at the edge of his seat. why alejandro wouldn't allow himself any peace from it ( from her? ) is an anomaly not even rudy's keen tongue and ear could soothe out of him. what depth of dangerous loneliness keeps alejandro's hand between valeria's teeth? what type of loathingly selfish and bitter form of self-punishment was this? WAS IT BAIT FOR THE AUDIENCES? snake oil sold as a powerful and all-curing elixor? or was this the knight's tired actor's honest and final cry for help to be pulled off stage -- or executed coldly on it?

for the rest of the ride back to their base, alejandro realizes it would be better for both of them if he stopped dousing their flame with memories of their most recent heat. SOMETHING MIGHT SPRING FROM HIS TONGUE THAT HE CAN'T TAKE BACK. and it wouldn't be calloused or calculated -- or spiteful and cruel. in fact, it would be dangerously honest and indicative of the fact it's something he might want to do again. WITHOUT THE MEZCAL AND THE OBSCURE LABELS. without a rushed morning after, and without an onslaught of childish chases in between hook-ups. god forbid: alejandro wanted something.. intimate with her. AND GOD FORBID HE MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY TELL HER THAT.

but her tentative voice -- as slick and as honeyed as it felt latched heatedly against his ear nights and nights ago -- alejandro can't unhear the way she sounded then. AND HE CAN'T SHAKE HOW SHE SOUNDS NOW. even as her chords pull in a louder shout, taunting the team with her usual spike, the attachment he has to her is dangerous enough.. AS SCRIPTED, HE FINDS HER, ALONE AND IN WINCES. broken off the branches of rowdy men, and left to lick her own wounds as a woman who's always done so in the past. the audience will ooh and awe at the knight's noble intentions. VALERIA, PROBABLY, WON'T. as if watching in the wings, alejandro clears his throat before heavy boots bellow and echo in the change-room's vastness.

“ valeria.. si sigues tocándolo, se infectará. / valeria.. if you keep touching it, it's gonna get infected. ” he warns her genuinely, but dipped with alejandro's over-arcing voice and tone: HE PATRONIZES. this time ( and perhaps, foolishly.. ) alejandro watches his crocodile without a gun, or a net, or a flare, or a knife, or a stick, OR ANY OTHER MEANS OF PROTECTION BUT HIS WIT AND MIGHT. he thinks it'll be enough to keep all of his limbs attached to his body, but in reality: he wasn't necessarily worried about losing an arm or a leg, or both, or all.. AS LONG AS VALERIA DIDN'T GET TO HIS HEART. AGAIN. HE'D BE SAFE.

so he watches her closely, arms tightly crossed against his chest, now that his vest was removed -- studying her creature-ness with a heavy eye. “ dime, honestamente. / tell me, honestly. ” in the silence of the empty room, his sincerity seeps from his teeth like a weakness. “ ¿qué has visto? / what did you see? ” prompting her to think back to her doubts ( which were quickly proven to be right ) before shit hit the fan: WHAT TILTED HER SUSPICION? WHAT DID HE MISS? alejandro believes that a soldier who can accept his flaws must mean they're not fatal.. that it must be sudden absolution.

BUT HE'S A TRAGIC HERO, ISN'T HE? an impeccable soldier makes a desperate man: for something always has to give and something always has to lack.. so alejandro is open. genuinely. vulnerably. he doesn't forget valeria's reactive venom post-firefight -- that this was something she thinks that could've been avoided. HIS FATAL FLAW IS OUT ON FULL DISPLAY, WITHOUT HIS KNOWLEDGE. beckoning to brawl with the reptile in the swamp: only to come out alive, and scold her for chomping at his lure. “ si me perdí algo, quiero saber qué. / if i missed something, i want to know what. ”

[scornpion]

here, she hadn't intended to lure him. to her private space, her place of relief. in this metaphorical jungle paradise, ferns protrude from the vents in the lockers and upon the set she leans against a jaguar's giant paws hang over the edge, it's deep rumble amplified by the room's acoustics and at her feet resides the familiar crocodile, jaws parted as it basks in the unnatural light. they do not act as protection, however, for she is among them. one of them. as alejandro closes the distance, it all intensifies — can't he hear the lively atmosphere of this world inside her mind? this is no terrain for a knight. should she go for his throat, before he goes for hers? had the faint scent of blood from her gash drawn him to her?

there's something about the fact that he'd sought her out that she finds exhilarating. the game's not over yet. however, she'd not been the one to initiate it, to invite it, and thus disinterest sits heavy in her throat. vete, alejandro ( go away, alejandro. ) the patronisation gnaws at her. why thank you, my hero! i never would've guessed! maybe infection is what she wants. something to distract her from this loss, this failure. perhaps she'll pick it raw, also to spite him. maybe, just maybe, valeria will shed her skin entirely and reveal herself to him as a horrifying arachnid! spin him into a cocoon of web and gorge herself on his blood. she already knows what he tastes like.

¿qué has visto? a brisk feigning of amusement is hummed at that, followed by a heavy exhale through her nose. he doesn't get it — still doesn't fucking get it. not needing to be at her full height to feel her confidence, she allows palms to rest on the stretch of seat on each side, leaning into this position with an open chest and lifted chin. not inviting, but challenging. " ¿qué me he perdido? ( what did i miss? ) " is said mockingly, a weak impression of him — followed by a tsk.

          " esto no tiene nada que ver con lo que te has perdido, alejandro ( this has nothing to do with what you missed, alejandro. ) es lo que no hiciste ( it's what you didn't do. ) ¿para qué coño crees que sirve un equipo? ( what the fuck do you think a team is for? ) ¡no, no escuchas! ( no, you don't listen! ) lo que te perdiste fue el propósito de tener un equipo ( what you missed was the purpose of having a team. ) " truthfully, she doesn't care about what he'd said. that she was overreacting, exaggerating. it's the principle. if alejandro wanted to play the hero, if he wanted to lead with his heart and not his head then he could see out missions on his own.

seemingly sympathetically, tenderly, valeria rises to her feet and approaches him. gloved hand positions itself gently on his cheek and she takes the chance to study every detail of his face. " no todo recae sobre tus hombros ( not everything rests on your shoulders, ) " is spoken in a softer tone. truly, there's no one who understands the sentiment better than she does. her whole life, she'd believed responsibility to be a burden. a prison sentence in its own right. and while yes, it's hypocritical because she doesn't practice what she's preaching, she sees it as important... to remind alejandro specifically that he can't control everything and must rely on others to find success.

are her intentions genuine? well, the sooner he recognises he can't control everything the sooner he stops trying to control her. or relinquishes control enough for her to take it. so... maybe not — but her gaze is sincere at least. " ¿quieres mi consejo? ( do you want my advice? ) " head tilts downwards, allowing her to look up at him through her lashes and her tone dips into a warning. " nunca me digas que estoy exagerando ( never tell me i'm exaggerating. ) " maybe she does care about what he'd said.

[scornpion]

@ssuds asked: " there is no shame in being afraid. " / from soap.

apprehension tightens her core, each time that fucking container door opens. an overwhelming fight or flight response deep in her gut, ankles straining and shoulders squaring as a series of clangs reveals a different face. yet, never the one she hopes for. seems alejandro's sending everyone to cater to her but himself. last time it'd been an unfamiliar vaquero, and this time it was 'soap'. she knows they won't do anything to her, that they're too clean — too infatuated with honour and justice for such a thing. but experience drives her adrenaline up nevertheless.

¿DÓNDE ESTÁ EL SIN NOMBRE? ( WHERE IS THE NAMELESS ONE? ) remembers spitting in the interrogators face, baring her teeth. valeria could talk. could run her fucking mouth like nobody's business — but as soon as she was expected to, it was demanded of her, lips sealed tight in defiance. make me, pendejo. soap comes bearing gifts, however. if you could call necessary-nutrition-so-she-doesn't-perish that. unlike many of the other vaqueros she'd seen though, who'd made a point of kicking her tray across the floor in her direction to maintain a secure distance, the mohawked soldado carries it to her and holds it out.

he's not careless, caution etched into his features because of course he recognises her capabilities. he'd suffered her grit in that basement. but it's an open challenge she can respect. he doesn't give in to her intimidation and it certainly piques her interest. " aren't you worried i'll bite? " lips purse playfully, voice lifting a soft octave as sharp gaze drifts with perfected innocence. " they say i'm dangerous. " she knows soap won't buy it — how could he possibly after what he'd witnessed? a murder carried out directly behind her, deafening gunshot and the caving in of skull and organ... and she didn't bat a fucking eyelid. there is no shame in being afraid. how common it was for men to permit her fear. to allow it. how kind and merciful of him! they both know she's not, hence his sarcastic tone. the act is dropped and valeria narrows her eyes at him, snatching the tray before he can leave with it.

          " i don't think it's me who needs to be afraid, " she states boldly, venomously. " when i eventually get out of here, me encargaré de que todos paguen ( i will see to it that everyone pays. ) " head tilts, brows lift — acting as her own challenge to him. " did you understand that, pendejo? i will fucking hunt all of you down, and your families. see who is fucking afraid then, uh? " / meme.

[scornpion]

/ / / continued — @axillery / reaper.

like a stinger, her stare is pointed and intimidating. mind you, unlike a scorpion she doesn't need to flail around or make herself appear bigger for her enemies. her attitude is enough, her posture and positioning. such thought goes into emanating a threat, a humanoid weapon. rumours exist within the confines of the cartel's workers, but they reach her nevertheless — often via diego who takes great amusement in some of them.

one in particular being that a single hand of valeria's around the throat will result in instant decapitation. like a giant pincer, they anticipate great consequence from her touch and rumours like these she certainly doesn't discourage. perfectly comfortable with being painted as an arachnid, she intends to live up to it as best she can. " disculparse es para la gente que comete errores ( apologising is for people who make mistakes, ) " valeria bites back, narrowing her eyelids at her el sin nombre's latest recruit. " simplemente no cometas errores ( just don't make mistakes. ) "

there comes a point where she must acknowledge and accept that as long as it's humans operating under her, mistakes are inevitable. a perfect operation is nonexistent, unattainable, but with every failure on their part her reputation is questioned and she won't stand for others sabotaging her autonomy, intentional or not. " debes entender güey, bajo el sin nombre, funcionamos como uno solo ( you must understand guy, under the nameless, we function as one. ) actúas como lo haría el propio jefe ( you act as the boss himself would act. ) ahora eres parte de un sistema. esto es todo lo que necesitas saber. ¿lo entiendes? ( you are now part of a system. this is all you need to know. understand? ) "

he would certainly do well to remember this, questioning, challenging, debating — they were all unacceptable to 'el sin nombre.' diego had learned this and adapted impressively, offering guidance, suggestion and progress instead. the title el sin nombre is the best example of expected freedom that there is. " la inteligencia que puedas obtener será útil ( the intelligence you can obtain will be useful. ) parece que hay mucho que vigilar ( there seems to be a lot to keep an eye on. ) "

with the newfound tool of hacking and observation, the cartel could easily collect blackmail as well as necessary evidences. perhaps this new recruit would help keep people in line. " hay alguien a quien el jefe quiere que investigues ( there is someone the boss wants you to investigate. ) " ironic, that in this moment she has the power to outplay alejandro himself. however, she enjoys the game of it and decides cheating isn't on the cards with him. " para probar su lealtad ( to test their loyalty. ) ¿puedes manejar esto? ( can you handle it? ) "

[scornpion]

yeh ill be writing a meta on valeria being captured by los vaqueros, 141 & shadow comp and the intense situation in her brain due to trauma from previous abductions and torturous interrogations re: former la araña cartel supporters taking her hostage and interrogating her on el sin nombre's whereabouts thinking she's his trusted sicaria so she must know...........

[vaquerros-deactivated20240511]

how long can alejandro hold his delusions of grandeur? how far can his false impressions of his own importance stretch if he tunes out his unfitting damsel besides him? could he live in his fantasy world for as long as he needs to? -- so long as he avoids the exo-skeletal claws that rip him out from it? SHOULD HE EVEN CALL IT HIS FANTASY WORLD? fantasy limits it to the impossible and the imagination: and what alejandro wanted was something real. something that would bear the fruits of his unsung labour and bloodshed.. SOMETHING WITH VALERIA.

his mother used to remind him, cada martes tiene su domingo! / every tuesday has its sunday! something that exhorts to optimism, rooting his own optimism is something as holy as his mother's tongue -- reminding him that a desolate circumstance that may appear to him in all forms of bad will come in alternation with something good. EVEN VALERIA? HOPEFULLY VALERIA.. although lately, it's beginning to dawn on las almas' gilded knight that all of valeria's good might've already been spent, and he's panning an empty pit for something that no longer exists. there's only a pile of skeletons in her vat.

NUNCA TE PEDÍ QUE ARRIESGARAS TU VIDA POR MÍ. she says to him: and alejandro bobs his head, eyes fixed to the empty road ahead. scanning across valleys of nothingness.. there's nothing for him to challenge her on there -- SHE'S RIGHT. SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN RIGHT. he sinks in his seat, as if he settles with being defeated by their ( by now ) common reality of casting his gloved hand out for her to take, and being left with a viper-sharp sting instead. ONE DAY HE'LL STOP REACHING INTO HER CAGE.. " para fastidiarme? / to spite me? " valeria's lure is met with a hard bite, and her knight chances a lingering gaze upon her. if she were to be his match -- HIS BRUTAL AND UNRELENTING MONSTER IN HIS LAST FIGHT -- alejandro begs she'll cradle his head as she lays her teeth into his neck.

" me relajo, cometo errores. / i loosen up, i make mistakes. " still, the knight of las almas will keep his fingers curled around the bars of valeria's cage for now. HIS SUNDAY WOULD EVENTUALLY ARRIVE, RIGHT? he returns his gaze to the road as she returns her panther-eyes to her own window. the frown he makes is exaggeratingly wonderous -- reflective, even. so alejandro's voice lowers beneath the roar of the engine. quiet enough for the boys in the back to remain oblivious to their commander taming the jungle cat perched in the passenger seat.

with a hushed tone, alejandro leans over to her side slightly. " te divertiste esa noche, ¿no? / you enjoyed yourself that night, no? " it's all he needs to say to prompt the memory. HER BENEATH HIM, HIM BENEATH HER. mezcal was an easy excuse out of what they did -- but alejandro would never forget, and he's still unsure if he truly considers it a mistake.. what he does know, is that he'll never drink another glass of liquid temptation that came from valeria's hand again. HE MAY FULLY BECOME ATTACHED TO HER. more than he is now, if it's even possible..

[scornpion]

valeria doesn't move an inch as he nears her, the distance-closed so minute but intolerable. considers meeting him half-way, inches apart and breath hot on each other's features — for something. anything but this dreadful void, this gut-chewing stillness. she doesn't. what the fuck? does the knight now deem himself a jester? is he screwing with her? this is a dangerous game if he wishes to play it, after all. no one toyed with a crocodile and walked away with all limbs intact. however, he's certainly proven that such is the least of his concerns.

perhaps alejandro has bitten, but it's valeria that intends to conduct the devastating death roll. watch as arm tears from socket and disappears down her gullet, gore spraying and spattering uncontrollably over their captive audience. what a show they put on together! except at the end of the day, when all is said and done, there'd been no acting involved. well, save for their facades, of course. valeria boldly bares her teeth in response, an unsettling grin, defiant of the uncertainty rising in her chest.

          " creía que lo había dejado claro ( i thought i made that clear, ) " she tests, the tip of her snout peeking out from beneath the water's surface. a little closer, alejandro, for reptilian beast to spring up and snap toothy maw around elongated neck. that's what he gets, for drinking from her river. as though her response wasn't enough, smooth tone and all, gloved fingertips mimic the motion of nails clawing down his back, raking her own thigh in place of it. two can play... " ¿todavía tienes las marcas? ( do you still have the marks? ) " it's unexpectedly coy, grin dropping and lips pursing as she proceeds to study the small, decorative pair of boxing gloves swinging from the vent in front of her like it holds all the answers.

a finger even dares to reach out and knock one, prompting it to swing — once, twice, and then it stops. just like everything else. " ¿cómo lo ha explicado? ( how did you explain it? ) ¿dijiste que estaba relacionado con el trabajo? ( did you say it was work-related? ) " a cheeky shift of her lips reveals a playful smirk. " supongo que no contaría como mentira… ( i guess it wouldn't count as a lie... ) " yes, and her teeth are bone-marrow deep now. valeria is reminded, above all else, that she'd claimed him in every sense of the word that night. marked him, bestowed her signature upon the canvas of his shoulder blades like a maiden's handkerchief — though less of a sign of love and more of possession.

he is hers and she... well, she flutters just out of his reach, landing directly in his palm every so often but only when he's least expecting it. when his arm has been lowered to recover from the ache of his determination; meaning she's able to flutter away again by the time he's realised. this specific game will end in tragedy ( don't they all? ) no doubt, with either alejandro's arms stiffening in place for eternity or valeria becoming trapped in his grasp so violently that her wings tear as she's squished beneath his urgency. all good things came to an end, she knows this well. however, for now, she'll tiptoe along his fingertips when he's not looking. " ¿qué no había que disfrutar? ( what was not to be enjoyed? ) " and it appears, on the surface, as a compliment — affection, even. but she's merely luring him closer to the water's edge. finds satisfaction in building up his ego just to knock it down.

when they arrive back at base, she's the first to hop from the vehicle, snatching the little pair of mexico-themed boxing gloves as she goes. another reminder — despite her cutting and disconnected visage, she's somewhat sentimental. " ¡último en entrar tiene que limpiarme las botas! ( last one in has to clean my boots! ) " valeria calls out, jarring the rest of the unit into exiting the vehicle. she beats them through the doors, forcing out pitchy laughter but her head is throbbing. swallowing hard, she falls quiet and navigates her way to a quiet bench as the others head to shower, change and then eat. glove-clad palm is pressed to her wound and a hiss leaves her, the series of movements prompting it to have started lightly bleeding again. " hijo de puta ( son of a bitch. ) "

[scornpion]

@valereius asked: " you're a hard woman to find. " / cole!

she's overseeing important business for el sin nombre, paying a visit to a family within las almas. they have valuable information for her, regarding a possible traitor. a fellow family member, their fear respect for el sin nombre outweighing familial bonds, enabling them to give their relative up. from what she can tell, it appears darian soto is prepared to give information to los vaqueros in exchange for his family's safety. little does he know, valeria has eyes everywhere. even the street dogs know who they report to. today, she'll be getting details from this family on his whereabouts. it appears poor darian doesn't know of their betrayal. he would get over it — in his grave.

her mind is cast to alejandro, the image of his face in her mind, after learning of her own disloyalty... he's lucky she didn't kill him too. perhaps they would meet again, in a fiery display of venom and bared teeth. what would he think of her now? gaze has drifted, focus fixing on the cartel worker addressing her. valeria, estamos aquí ( we are here. ) a firm nod is given, appreciative of being drawn back to the present. those thoughts were for another time and another place, she decides, and hops out of the truck. her men create a perimeter, keeping watch for any signs of los vaqueros or other potential trouble.

valeria eyes the door to the family's home, noticing a small head peeking out from one of the thin curtains inside, a curious child that's quickly yanked out of sight. a huff of amusement leaves her. out of sight, the vehicle blocking her view, she can hear a commotion — audible threats from her guards. the sicaria moves around the obstacle and assesses the situation. at gunpoint, a familiar face calls out to her, demanding he be let through. with a heavy exhale, valeria calls to her men, " ¡oye! está bien ( hey! it's okay, ) " prompting them to reluctantly let him by.

as walker approaches, he says, you're a hard woman to find, mildly agitated by the previous confrontation. " y aún así lo haces… ( and yet you still do it... ) " valeria remarks, rolling her eyes — this she doesn't try to conceal. " what are you doing here? nobody requested you. " word spreads fast in las almas, he likely learned of her location through this. after all, it wasn't often that el sin nombre's most trusted personnel travelled through the city. that being said, it must be important for him to go to this effort. she needed to avoid wasting time, knowing los vaqueros showing up was a very real risk. " it will have to wait, " at least until she's collected the family and transported them to somewhere undisclosed, " i have business to attend to. " / meme.

[scornpion]

@susponte asked: " i really didn't have a choice. "

diego had introduced the interloper. the sheep among wolves, no — valeria doesn't underestimate him, this... 'gutterson.' he is corrupt, a language she understands all too well but there's an air about him, not superiority but close. at least, that's how she perceives it. is he not afraid of death? does he not care what happens to him here? is he so afraid he appears cool and collected? radiates the same energy as a father seeking to collect his delinquent and problem-creating child. she recognises he must face a variety of criminals in his line of work, but for him to assume las almas cartel holds any similarities to them would be a fatal oversight on his part.

          " diego tells me you are looking for someone, " she begins, tone relaxed — it's professional, neutral. " one of our... associates has caused problems, as i understand it. " valeria doesn't remain rooted to the spot, nor does she move too slowly or too fast for the situation. an alert but confident pace is maintained as she manoeuvres around him, bordering on circling. doesn't want him too comfortable. it's undeniably building up to something, however. " and what? you are hoping we will... hand them over? " gives a low, sardonic chuckle.

shoulders square and finally she halts, positioned beside his shoulder. it is he who is forced to go out of his way to face her. " pinche gringo metiche ( fucking gringo busybody. ) you think that i don't know what this is? that i am un imbécil? no? you don't wanna have a 'talk' with nobody. i will not allow you to kill any of el sin nombre's assets. " so it appears they've reached a bitter stalemate. how would her other 'associates' view her, should she be deemed easy to sway. unreliable and untrustworthy, two traits valeria has worked hard to instil into her people.

she defends el sin nombre's reputation like it is her own, because it is — but this gutterson doesn't know that. sin nombre's personal sicaria, she handles much of the transactions relating to the cartel's mysterious leader, when 'he' is otherwise unavailable. realmente no tenía elección, gutterson states and valeria is somewhat taken aback by the language switch, though it remains concealed. what does he want, a medal? the decision to speak in her native language only spurs her on.

          " escúchame con pinche atención, blanquito ( listen to me very fucking carefully, white boy, ) te irás a casa con las manos vacías ( you will go home empty-handed ) y dile a tu jefe que este asunto está resuelto ( and tell your boss that this matter is resolved. ) ¿comprendes? ( you understand? ) o tendré que enviarte de vuelta en pedazos ( or i will have to send you back in pieces. ) " pauses, considering him. maybe she's being too harsh. has, of course, experienced her own time as a middle-man. suffered the disappointment of a power-hungry man when she had nothing new to offer him. and this gutterson is exactly that, valeria reminds herself. which prompts her to tilt her head, chin lifted in his direction. " unless... we can work something out. since maybe you will end up in pieces, either way, huh gringo? " / meme.

[scornpion]

topic: how valeria's antisocial personality disorder affects her decisions / actions.

antisocial personality disorder ( aspd ) is a mental health condition and disorder which affects how someone thinks, perceives, feels and relates to the world and others. it cannot be cured and is typically managed through therapy and medication, though requires intense and extensive self-control and restraint from the individual that has it.

while the outcomes of aspd might include challenging behaviours such as impulsivity, irresponsibility and criminality, exhibiting traits such as manipulativeness, deceitfulness, recklessness and a lack of empathy ( the ability to emotionally relate or connect to another's feelings, situation or reactions ), this is typically prompted / triggered by feelings of chronic and insufferable boredom and restlessness. because of these, individuals might engage in risky activities without considering themselves or those around them. the disorder is often the result of trauma, and the main feature is seeing the world through a desperate and dominating need for individualism and power over those who threaten their independence and freedom — often due to their trauma involving having that individuality and freedom scolded or outright taken from them, whether it be by another person or situation / turn of events.

from four years old, following the death of her younger sister and abandonment of her mother, valeria exhibited signs of conduct disorder, where one shows an ongoing pattern of aggression and violating rules and social norms ( at home, in school and towards others ) which can lead to breaking the law and / or being arrested. her father was forced to find her a second school due to aggressive and violent behaviour towards fellow peers and teachers / caregivers. however, due to her close connection with her father, she was exposed to how distraught he was to learn of how she'd been at school and it was a very early lesson for her that such behaviour troubled and upset those close to her — information that would later become of use to her.

that's not to say she didn't try at school, eager to please her father who she loved and respected dearly, as her only protector. as she aged, she was exposed to a lot of sexism, misogyny and violence due to the nature of growing up in a very corrupt and violent part of mexico — especially as the years passed. valeria easily fell into doing risky things to relieve pent up energy, but was stopped in her tracks and distracted when her father relapsed and was drawn back into his addiction with drugs. not only had she suffered the confusion and guilt of her mother's abandonment, believing she was somewhat to blame and wasn't worth staying for, but she was now struggling with being abandoned by her father who'd chosen addiction over her. of course, it wasn't that simple but to her, it was this unshakeable feeling of betrayal, that the only man in her life had deserted her.

she would go on to become his carer in a sense, looking after their home, buying and shopping for groceries and overseeing chores due to her father also becoming largely preoccupied with the cartel ( by force, though valeria was too young to fully understand this. ) the most important man in her life had chosen men over her — this was all she knew. unbridled envy, the same she'd felt when her sister had been chosen over her. like she kept coming second-place, losing, no matter how hard she tried. injustice kept on snubbing her. men would corner her outside of her home, would force themselves upon her with threats and vile intent. her violence would replace the traditionally necessary protection of any man, her fists would defend her honour and her heels would protect her dignity. her teeth would save her innocence.

despite her best efforts to remain collected and true to her unpromising future, man would yet again drive a wedge between herself and freedom. work for the cartel or her father suffer the consequences, and to see him in such an agonised and lost state drove her wild. the shakes, the hyperventilating, the total sickness would keep her up at night. as time progressed, she would come to see the world as a game. la araña 10 - valeria 1. that score would drastically come to rise in the approaching years. there was no more 'better luck next time,' or 'third time's the charm.' no more 'try until you succeed' or 'practice makes perfect.' you either won or you lost, succeeded first time or failed for good. life became about winning vs losing, respect vs disrespect, ally vs enemy.

even upon joining the army, it all remained the same. men supporting men, men defending men. she would always have to protect herself. they called her defiant, defensive, argumentative — a problem. that bitch can't follow orders! she's only out for herself! on the surface, she appeared shallow, egotistical, uptight, when really she sought control anywhere she could possibly find it, to soothe her inner child. this control was consistently taken from her, with men making decisions for and against her, so — she would fight to regain it. this would be one of the leading factors that pushed her to leave and join the navy. a fresh start, a skill group more suited to her. however, outside instruction would go on to trip her up, to eat her up inside. a blessing and a curse, because her volatile but widely impressive skillset would garner the attention of superiors within a different branch.

invited to apply for fuerzas especiales selection, she would go on to be picked and placed into a team of like-minded, authority-challenging individuals. people driven by their own goals that were able to concentrate that energy into getting a job done, above all else. to begin with, it was a dream. she would get away with a lot, her success rate keeping complaints regarding her impulsivity and recklessness at bay. but like always, man would step on her toes inevitably. by this point, valeria has developed a mindset that anyone who challenges or threatens her independence, her freedom, anyone who forces rules upon her and sets expectations is a parasite — and they needed to be cut out or taught a lesson.

she would go on to befriend alejandro vargas, from a different team, a man who wasn't shy of praising and pointing out her skills and attributes. he shared a similar, but not equal, disdain for la araña, a childhood-born thirst for vengeance that valeria found intoxicating. finally, a man who saw her for who she was and would stand by her for it, who would help her reach her goals with a fiery intensity. his passion fuelled her, swept her off her feet and intoxicated her. to him, she was incredible and he made sure she knew it. they worked well together, a formidable duo, and he'd be in hot pursuit of any off-the-rails plans valeria implemented mid-mission in support of her. for a while, the playing field between them was level, balanced. it was safe.

their banter would replicate a game of tennis, captivating back-and-forth, fleeting touches and lingering eye contact. if he disagreed, he would eventually back down or move past it. he could be swayed, could be manipulated. but above all else, valeria finally felt seen. respected. they were one in the same in many ways, like reliable back-up. valeria trusted him. then, they progressed into intentional touches, prolonged physical contact, intimate gazes. very quickly, his passion turned from beneficial to parasitic. as a title bound the two together, promising dependence, subjugation, valeria grew restless once more. defiant, defensive, argumentative! a problem. it stirred up a long-ignored fear and desperation in her, the same one she'd felt when her father squirmed, spluttered and shuddered from his withdrawal, when he'd sorely depended on her. when she was forced to step up and assist the cartel for fear of what they might do. when her teeth had buried into the fleshy forearm of a stranger and torn out a streak of tattoos to evade exploitation.

alejandro was a driven and determined man, leading to them trying to make it work before a drastic decision on valeria's part forced them to reconsider and go their separate ways, remaining teammates first and close friends second. this was promising, a part of her life that held real potential. until la araña approached her again for work. disinterested in their futile offer, she'd turned them down and as punishment, they'd exploited her weakness — man / her father, once again. she would find him deceased in their home from an apparent overdose, but she knew better. well aware la araña was anticipating her call, valeria contacted the cartel and pledged her corrupt allegiance. she would feed them information about special forces, betraying her team and friends alike. betraying alejandro.

her intentions stemmed from a much deeper, violent, wrathful place. tempestuous, man had scorned her for the very last time. it was entirely personal, la araña the very root, with everything and everyone else merely in the way. they would be singed and scorched on her warpath to burn the cartel to the ground. all valeria knows now is that she needs to win. that there is a mountain of ashes waiting in her future and she must rise from its summit if she's to feel anything again. for it to be worth it. las almas would respect her, would submit to her autonomy — even if it killed her. and if she succeeded? there would be no more fucking losses.

[scornpion]

@vaquerros asked: " i can't treat it if i can't see it. "

teeth are bared and nostrils flare, clumsy and distracted — her teammate had turned and his padded elbow had collided with an abandoned pan on the gas. boiling water was launched in her direction and met exposed forearm. despite the contact being minimal and the burn miniscule, alejandro was quick to place undivided attention on her once their target had been apprehended. they're in the home of their enemy, pursuing a lead on an individual from la araña cartel.

he'd gotten too comfortable and had been preparing to cook a meal when fuerzas especiales had busted down his door and cleared the property, two soldiers on his tail when he'd fled the building in an attempt to escape. they'd quickly pinned him to the ground and secured him and while the rest of the unit were scanning the location, alejandro had led her to what could be described as the living room, a singular couch and lonely table — it's dimly lit due to the blinds being shut and what light does peek through is absorbed by their dark uniforms.

so carefully, glove-free palm is extended outwards, facing up expectantly. as though she's about to give in to a game of nurse, like she can't patch herself up. valeria studies his hand then sharp gaze flits up to find his own. no puedo tratarla si no puedo verla. ah, he's serious. she should be able to tell from the solemn crease in his furrowed brow, the sympathy etched into his cheeks, but she stills hopes one day he'll surprise her. that he'll remain silent and the expectation will instead be for her to get on with it alone while he provides cover.

          " no hay nada que tratar ( there is nothing to be treated, ) " keeps arm reluctantly by her side. he needn't say another word for his eyes to plead with her, they reason that the sooner he confirms it the sooner they can move on. thus, valeria shoves her arm out towards him, evading his palm — she's not going to make it easy for him. does she ever?

piercing stare watches closely, despite feigning her disinterest, as he assesses the burn. it's not severe, but it's there, a patch of reddened flesh that stings with the carelessness of her previous movement. determination hardens his features and he shrugs off his pack, retrieving his own medical box for emergencies and valeria's unable to stifle or even reduce the force of which her laughter leaves her. " ¡no mames! ( no way! / you're kidding me! ) estoy bien, alejandro ( i am fine, alejandro. ) no necesito nada de esa mierda ( i don't need any of that shit. ) " / meme.