Solo mission, middle of fuck-nowhere, trampling through a forest to find his objective. "Gh..." Albie grunts as he treads through the dirt and leaves, heavy gear weighing him down. But he continues to walk on, looking around carefully as to not get shot. Not the best outcome. After his legs start to ache, Laswell comes into comms with radio static in his ear.
"Krchr - McKinner, found anything yet?" She asks, watching his location and body cam from the office.
He huffs and shakes his head. "Nothing." He mumbles, then stops walking after he hears shuffling. "...Maybe." he whispers and crouches down, trying to listen and locate. Somewhat like a bat, echolocation. "Potential... soldier." He whispers into comms, griping his gun and aiming it at the entrance of what seems to be an abandoned camp house.
He stalks through, clearing room after room before Albie hears small chatter and footsteps, and he quickens his pace to try and find them before they get away. He enters a small supply closet, flashlight on his gun as he aims it in, eyes scattering over the room. "Surrender, you've been found." He coldly states as he stares into the eyes of a soldier backed into the corner, weapon aimed right back at him. "Put it down." He growls out, pointing to the ground. "Now!"
Thorn couldn’t help but think sometimes… What life would be like if she could freely be a normal person again. Or, as much as she was before. Maybe she could make an elaborate disguise and just… Go to the store again.
She used to do that all the time with old company.
So that’s what she decided to do. But instead of an elaborate disguise, she decided she would just wear her late brother’s old hoodie, and have the hood over her head to hide herself.
She put her hair up in a full bun, then she put the hood over it, and began to make her way to walk to the city.
Hat Island was a pretty far off island from land, so she grew a pair of vine wings from her back, the vines winding and weaving deliberately before they finished… And she was able to spread her wings and fly off to Atreno.
She landed in a secluded area, then she reabsorbed the wings back into her back, letting out a sigh before beginning to walk to the mall.
Once she got there, she tried her best to keep her head down without seeming too suspicious. A well known villain trying to blend in with normal people could come off as sinister.
She was pulling it off, but only until she accidentally bumped into someone, the hood going down enough to reveal her face and her front bangs as she tried to cover herself again,
‘S— So sorry! I didn’t mean to!’ She immediately apologized, trying to make sure they weren’t angry at her, looking up at them with a startled expression.
// Extra information below the cut! \\
// This here starter could be anything really! It could turn into literally any type of roleplay, and for the sake of it, why not have her be just an employee of Black Hat here?
Incase any of the simps wanted to try to flirt..
Or just for a more immersive roleplay that doesn’t revolve around people she’s affiliated with. Either way!
Idc, I'm going to keep writing about my male counterpart with a new name every time and he'll be so masculine and macho
Owen Bouchier recoiled when an acrid scent of rot reached his nose.
He should have been used to it. Two wars should have been enough to desensitize him to any form of violence or gore. But the sight before him almost made him puke his guts out.
In the open meadow lay a fallen deer, halfway through the decomposition. Only it wasn't a doe; it was a man with horns jutting out of his head. It couldn't have been a satyr; those guys reincarnate into daisies or something. No, it was a human. As human as Owen could tell, at least. The man was long dead; Even from a distance, Owen could see a caved-in ribcage and large amounts of dried blood decorating the corpse.
Owen clasped a hand on his mouth; he could feel the bile reaching up his throat. He couldn't take it anymore and promptly dumped the remaining contents of his stomach into a bush nearby.
Once he got his bearings, Owen quickly fled the scene. There was no way he was going to stick around and find out what happened to that guy. Something was definitely wrong about this. Everything was.
He was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Away from any form of civilization, away from camp, away from home. He didn't even have a weapon. He had nothing but the clothes on his back. In short, he was screwed. He was sure there was already a monster trailing from behind, or just his paranoia.
He followed a nearby stream. Water meant life, life meant people. At least that's what Luke used to tell him. His efforts weren't in vain as a village soon came into view.
The village seemed to have a festive mood going on. Owen guessed that much from the hanging decor and the crowd of people around the town square. Everything felt surreal. Like nothing was— well, real. Everything was alien to him. The passing murmurs and chatter of townsfolk was familiar but out of reach, the clothes too— almost all of them were wearing old Greek clothes. It made Owen's t-shirt and sweats stick out like a sore thumb. A sweating, adrenaline filled thumb.
Owen squinted his eyes to get a better look around. The sun was nearing its peak and he didn't like the persistent warmth.
Content warnings: Emotional trauma, Grief (death of family), Light language, Dissociation, Slight self esteem issues if you squint.
Word count: 2.7k
Chapter masterlist
The most beautiful part is,
you will bloom again
slowly and in time.
~wild faith~
Summer
The warmth of the sun coated my skin, the same way it felt when Mama used to toss all of our laundry on me after the dryer cycle was finished. Sleep felt heavy on my eyes this morning, but whoever was assigned to be seated on this godforsaken Greyhound next to mine had no intention of letting me peacefully drift back into my slumber without a fight. What I should have done was tell that asshole to stop jabbing his gnarly fingers into my already sore shoulders from being cramped up in this seat for 20 plus hours. Maybe even throw a few curse words in there just to make myself feel better for the obnoxious snoring spree he had that kept me awake for the first 4 hours of the ride.
But you know what I did? You can guess it wasn't anywhere near the reaction I wanted. No, instead, I sweetly half-smiled at him and asked politely what was wrong. All for him to respond out of his big, dumb mouth that our driver had announced we were getting ready to arrive at the next town destination. Well congratulations, Mr. Blabbermouth for stating the obvious! Something I doubt the bus driver would have let me miss when it was time for everyone to exit the bus. This was always my problem, never could I find the courage to just speak my mind, instead at the last second I resorted to the peaceful approach. The one Mama used to say would keep me and my brother out of trouble. If only he could see me now would he be disappointed? Why did he leave Mama and me heartbroken like this? Doesn't he know how empty life has been without him here?
“Deep breaths,” I thought to myself. “Think about the present, the world is in my hands now.” I figured it was time to suck it up, grab what little nerves and patience I had left to slowly make my way to the restroom to freshen up for the day.
By the time the bus arrived in town, I had already brushed my teeth, washed the sleepiness from my eyes, and put the mini twists Elaine, my best friend, had done the night before I left in a ponytail with the finishing touch of a soft blue bow. Hurriedly walking down the aisles back to my seat, I reached on the points of my toes for the overhead luggage compartment for any carry-on items. Which in this case was just a well-packed pink duffle bag with everything important to me that I deemed essential to take. A lady in her mid to late 30s curtly advised everyone on board to remember not to forget any personal belongings or luggage located on the side of the bus as we exited.
Good thing I decided to pack light, I thought to myself, as three men argued about whose suitcase was whose and a young mom with her small child steered clear of the chaos. Okay, first things first—I needed to figure out where the hell I was supposed to go to look for apartments?! By the looks of my surroundings, this town sure wasn't gonna give any answers easily. Curse my heart and its threatening thuds against my chest. Aaargh!! Why is it becoming so hard to breathe?
One step at a time, Summer. Panicking is only gonna make things worse. Now just go ask the clerk at the desk if she knows any resources. Inhaling deeply, I make my way to the clerk's desk. Forming my lips into a smile more welcoming than the one I gave the man on the bus, I tune into my sweet public persona and brightly ask the clerk, “Hi, Mrs?...” My eyes darted to her name tag. Maria, that's her name. “Mrs. Maria, I’ve just moved into town and I’m looking for any help on finding non-vacant apartments, maybe even a job if that's possible.”
She's a beautiful woman, the type you could understand why she was married, and with that came an entourage of admirers salivating on the day her marriage goes astray. The kind of woman who didn’t have to worry at every date if they liked her for her, or was it just a fetish, and certainly could just pick up a box of hair dye if he preferred blondes. Acknowledging smile plastered across her face, Mrs. Maria turns and reaches behind her, rummaging in a box for a folder. Then she turns back to her desk, types away at her keyboard, and in a few seconds clicks on the mouse to print out a few sheets of paper.
To her left, she reaches for a colored Sharpie, circles something, clips the papers to the vanilla folder, and hands it to me. I thank her kindly and wave goodbye as I find a seat at the station to look over the information. When I open the folder, inside what was circled is the town’s city hall address along with where to locate the bulletin board with postings of job openings, apartments, and weekly meetings scheduled on issues I’m assuming is for the bettering of the community. Digging in the pocket of my jacket, I pull out my phone. 100% the battery reads. Thank goodness. I open Google Maps and type in the address.
Picking up my duffle bag with one hand, jamming my earbuds in with the other, I make my way towards the exit sign and out onto the well-worn pavement of Wagbang, Wyoming. “This sure is a change of scenery from North Carolina, especially Durham,” I quietly mumbled to myself as I clicked Eternal Sunshine by Jhene Aiko to listen to on the walk to City Hall. As I took in the rustic, rich wood smell of this new foreign place, letting the sun gloss over my skin, imagining the wind connecting and whispering newfound secrets between and around each mini twist brushing against my shoulders.
At last, I can sense the presence of Mother Nature calling to me, embracing my fingertips with warmth. The hair on my arms sticks up as if a force of electricity has touched them. Dear Earth is calling to me. We are the same yet different, connected in ways my mind will never fully grasp. Forgive me for not knowing when to stay still, instead I flee from all rough edges I cannot bear to reshape there. My power is unlimited and infinite to guide me because I'm so helpless. Mother Nature knows best. I live to see her pleased, the two of us swaying branches together at the willow tree.
My song reaches the end a bit too quickly for my liking, but at least City Hall is now right across the street. I forget how distracted I can get when my mind wanders. There’s no telling if someone saw my spaced-out state and thought of me as odd. It wouldn't be the first and probably not the last time that happens. Sigh, this is a part of the reason we left home, Summer. Why can't we just be normal? Not to mention, I haven’t seen another brown-skinned person yet. Don't need to go making a bad reputation for yourself; they already have their set opinions on people of color.
I make my way across the dirt-paved road and into the soft-lit building with only one thing on my mind: find a job and one that doesn’t require me to be the center of attention; my social anxiety would show through too well, costing me my job. With a pep in each stride, making my way to the overfilled bulletin board, I quickly pinpoint the section with jobs, leasing office numbers, and pull out my phone to take a few pictures. Being spaciously conscious, I scoot over to the side and begin calling the newfound numbers for availability.
An hour later, with no luck, I silently curse to myself and fast-walk towards the exit before the tears in my eyes threaten to spill. Pulling out my phone, Google Maps guides me to the nearest park. Sitting on the bench, letting the tears flow down my cheeks, I feel defeated. The first day seems to be a complete failure. I left home to start a new and improved “Summer” and begin a new chapter. But all it seems to do is remind me that I'm not as independent as I believed.
Tucked away underneath my shirt, I pulled out the pendant Grandma Ruthie gave to me before she passed. I remember when she gave it to me, my eyes shining with adoration as she clasped the chain around my neck. Her face displayed a look of pride that I was so content with her gift. Grandma’s favorite saying was "Life unfolds in infinite hues—an open mind is all it takes to see them. With that, you gain magical tools that neither the ordinary nor the narrow-minded can destroy."
When Mama came to tuck me in that night for bed, she caught a glimpse of the pendant looking at me. She asks: “Did grandma give that to you?” Nodding my head excitedly, I whispered in her ear; I have magical powers now, grandma said so herself. Shaking her head, Mama replies: "Magic ain’t real, baby. It's hard work and then some—that’s how we’ve survived. I’ve done it all on my own, working day in and day out at the hospital to ensure we have every blessing we do. Don’t let Grandma fill your head with silly things like that. That’s how you’ll end up like me—a single mother barely scraping by."
Mama at least let me keep the pendant, but it was sure the last time I brought it up, or any of my spiritual journey as I grew older. Mama was one-minded; she simply didn’t understand things the way I did. But that’s still Mama—the beautiful woman with long, flowing locks and deep chocolate skin, who loved me gently, the way only a mother can. Yet, with stern eyes and tight lips, she never let me forget how cruel and unjust the world can be. She breathed independence into my young mind, determined to keep me from making the same mistake she once did—falling in love with Papa.
Lost in thought, I barely notice the small child who walks up and gently places a coneflower in my hand. Before I can fully take in her face, she's already gone, leaving behind only the delicate purple petals as proof she was ever there. It's beautiful—a flower I wouldn't have found back home. I make a mental note to research it once I’m settled, but for now, I unzip my duffle bag, carefully retrieving my grimoire. Gently, I press the coneflower between its pages before tucking the book safely back into the bag.
As I prepare to leave, a woman comes into view. She’s elderly, but the warm smile she gives me suggests she’s not your average grandmother. Sweetly, she asks if she can share the bench I’m sitting on. Curious, I nod and make room for her. Trying to spark some light conversation, I mention how hard it’s been to find a job in the area. She gives me a knowing smile and says, “Just from the look on your face, I can tell you’re not from round here. Folks in this town don’t do much thinking—just hard labor and hotshots looking to score quick money before they’re gone.”
Not long into our casual conversation, she suggests that I apply at the local flower shop in the heart of town—they could use someone with such a keen interest in flowers. Stunned, I ask how she figured that out. With a small giggle, she replies, “I don’t mean to pry, but before I walked over, I saw you lost in thought, admiring that flower you just tucked away. And for good reason—those kinds of flowers are rare.”
Thanking her profusely, she waves a hand dismissively. “Not a problem,” she says with a kind smile. “I’m guessing since you’re new in town, you’re looking for a place to stay, right?”
I’m not sure why I feel so comfortable sharing so much with this woman, but if it keeps me from sleeping outside tonight, I might as well see what she has to offer. In the words of my brother, closed mouths don’t get fed. Quickly, before I drift too far into my thoughts, I ask if she knows of any available places.
“I have the money for a down payment, but no one seems to have anything open,” I admit.
Chirpy as ever, she responds, “Look, I have—well, I guess you could call it an unfinished project. My husband and I built it before he passed. It’s on the outskirts of the family ranch that my son runs now, but I don’t have any use for it. If you’d like to stay there, I’d be happy to let you rent it. If you’re interested, I’ll have someone come out first thing tomorrow morning to install heat and electricity while you’re in town filling out that application for the flower shop. The plumbing and water are already taken care of—that was the last thing I had done before I gave up on the project. It’s a small cottage, just right for one. What do you say?”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I begin to stutter, “How—however much you want for rent, I’ll pay it, I promise.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “As long as you promise to give the little cottage some love and appreciation, you can stay in it, no charge. You remind me a lot of my younger self, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s fate we crossed paths today, but I have a good feeling about you being here. This town needs something vibrant and fresh.”
Shyly, I blush at her compliment and turn my face away. “Do you think they’ll hire me?” I ask quietly.
Her smile widens. “Of course they will. I’m good friends with the owner—I’ll be sure to call her first thing in the morning and put in a good word for you.”
She stretches out her hand. “By the way, what’s your name? I’m Cecilia.”
I reach out to shake her hand, offering a small, grateful smile. “I’m Summer.”
As the sun begins to set, Cecilia offers, “Welp, if you’d like, I can at least give you a ride before I head in for the night.”
Glancing at the sky, I realize she’s right—it’s getting dark. Trying to find the cottage she’s offering this late would only guarantee me getting lost. Grabbing my duffle bag, I follow her to her truck, a blue pickup decorated with painted yellow sunflowers. A small giggle escapes me—meeting someone as vibrant as Cecilia in a town this dull is pretty entertaining.
She reaches the driver’s side and buckles up while I do the same, placing my bag between my feet on the floor. Thank all the gods and deities above for this stroke of luck. Snapping back to reality, I turn to her. “You wouldn’t mind if we stopped somewhere for food, would you?”
Once inside, I begin to unpack, folding my clothes into the wooden dresser, placing my hygiene essentials in the bathroom, and tucking my important documents under the mattress—a habit I picked up from Mama. Settling at the small desk in the bedroom, I eat the dinner Cecilia kindly bought for me on the way here. That woman is my lucky star today, no doubt about it.
Before she left, we stopped by her house to gather fresh sheets, a set of kitchenware, towels, and even a bike her daughter-in-law never uses—so I’d have a way to get into town.
After scarfing down the warm meal, I pick up the piece of paper she gave me with her number and quickly save it in my phone. I had asked, bluntly, how the cottage stayed so tidy when I first walked in. She simply smiled and said, “My son usually comes by once a week to clean, but now that you’re here, I’ll let him know there’s no need—unless you ever need something, of course.”
With that, she gave me a brief hug and headed out.
Making one last effort before sleep took over, I sent a quick text to Elaine: I’m alright. I’ll be in touch soon. With that, I climbed into bed, sank into the mattress, and passed out from sheer exhaustion.
Idk looks like i'm going to have to pull my ultimate card out of my sleeve: send me a undertale or utmv character and i will share one of my headcanons about them
