𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘

ⁱᵗ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

[undrtaken]

ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄɪɴɢ... 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖘

Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Carmen Contreras, the 33 year old mortician originally from Cardinal Hill, WA. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're elusive and observant, but what you might not know is that they are a human, and that they’re hiding something…

tw: death

Being the firstborn meant most of the parenting mistakes fell on Carmen. Her parents' expectations were overwhelming, being put into every extracurricular and pressured to perform in her classes. For as long as she could remember, she was destined to become a doctor, having always been the path her parents wanted for their oldest daughter. Carmen had been a straight-A student, school always coming easily to her, but it was fitting in part that she struggled with. The extra activities helped, sure, still nothing was able to change who she was, and the brutality of other children. It was when she was only thirteen that everything changed. While on a camping trip with her family, Carmen and her younger brother went exploring, instructed to not get too far, to which they gave a 'yeah, yeah' and continued forward. Their parents stayed at camp with the youngest Contrera, who was too young to adventure into the woods with his siblings. The pair were playing their favorite game when he mistepped near the edge of the river and tumbled into the icy water. Carmen ran to his aid to take hold of his hand, then pull him back to shore, if only that was how it had gone. His sister held on for as long as she could, pulling with all of her thirteen-year-old might, but against the current, she was proven too weak. Before she could even react, his small hand ripped from hers. That being the last time she ever saw him, his body was never found after being pulled away in the water. She returned to their campsite and tried to tell the story, but she never truly forgave herself for what happened. While they forgave their daughter for what had occurred, Carmen never could. It left a rift in the family that was eternal.

The childhood dreams Carmen once had of being a doctor shifted forever. She dissociated from her extracurricular activities, distanced herself from the friends she had, and prioritized her studies. After being unable to save the person who mattered most to her, a fascination with death began. Whether it was what exactly came after life or what peace death could bring, Carmen tried to learn it all and dedicated her life to this newfound interest. Her family mourned but were shortly gifted with another baby girl and then another boy a year later, who was the last of the Contreras siblings. That never meant her first brother had been forgotten, nor the guilt she carried with her every day since. His ofrenda was filled every year, along with the rest of their family who had passed. Amidst all the whispers, part of her wondered if everything in Cardinal Hill was true. There had always been words of witchcraft, and since becoming a mortician, she had seen things unable to be explained, things that were outside of the scope of science. As she's grown older, she's focused on finding out the truth about her hometown. To see if anyone could contact him, find a way to know if he had forgiven her for what she had done, or if he blamed her for the grip she lacked that day. Secretly, Carmen has been finding information and collecting all that she had seen in a journal, never having anywhere safe to expose her truth. She hopes this can change, but all she's ever known is a life of solitude, even when she was surrounded by those who loved her.

melissa barrera . bisexual . cis female . she/her

her closest confidant is her black cat, morris. she considers him to be her son and often joins her at work, where he sleeps in her office.

while she doesn't have any tattoos, she loves them, admiring the art, and always noticing when corpses have them.

she stayed close with her family, but there's been a disconnect since the accident. while they have all discussed it, coming to peace with what happened, carmen has yet to.

more tbd

📌 : Pinboard

[undrtaken]

closed starter for leon (@whispersandwraiths) located at the cardinal hill pumpkin palooza

After the carnival whirled through town, leaving behind more debris than usual, the annual Pumpkin Palooza didn't spark the same enthusiasm. Life went on. That was a fact, Carmen learned far too young, but tattooed on her future. All she could do now was try to keep moving forward without letting her concern for Leon consume the present. They were together, in the open, not a photobooth in sight. Somehow, the knife in her hand was the least of her worries as she dug into the top of an asymmetrical pumpkin. "I think I'm going to make mine a bat," the girl decided with a tilt of her head. "Or do you think that's too boring? Should I overcommit and undersell or the other way around?" A genuine question that was met with amusement at the care she put into such a menial task. They'd be puddles of orange ooze before long, and still, she cared what would shine through its skin until then.

[undrtaken]

closed starter for dimi (@blackcatxmagic) located at aperture photo lab

Ever since the carnival, she’d been particularly curious about film. While Carmen didn’t consider herself more than a hobby photographer, she’d started taking many more after the night of the incident. The talk of the town, yet no one spoke about where it originated or what had caused the uproar. No matter how many photos she took, they came back the same: exactly how she expected. Maybe it hadn’t been intended for her, but somewhere in the film, she thought a clue might be hidden. When coming in that particular day to pick up her developed rolls, she came with a question that was eating at her tongue. “Thanks,” she said when Dimi returned with her negatives. Any other day that would have been the end of it, but she needed an expert in the field, and he perfectly fit her bill. “Can I ask you something kind of weird?” It could’ve been anything, sure, and in a way, it could’ve caught the wrong person off guard. “Is it possible for someone to like… hack a photo booth? You know, make you think you took a different picture than you did, sort of thing.”

[hearthandhallows]

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Leon had barely gotten to his knees when Carmen reached him. His breathing came shallow and sharp, one hand clutched tightly in the other, blood seeping steadily between his fingers. It wasn’t…gushing, but it was enough that he’d started to feel cold. The sting of the gash, the warm wetness trailing down his wrist, the coppery scent that clung to the air around them. All of it told him that whatever had just happened hadn’t been imagined.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ But the part that terrified him was the hollowness he felt for that brief moment when his magic disappeared. 

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He glanced down at the photostrip again, blinking, because… what? What happened to the images of him where he… His eyes met Carmen’s as she knelt beside him, and something about the way her voice shook, not a lot, just enough, made his throat go tight. “Carmen,” he said softly, like her name might anchor him. He didn’t flinch when she touched him. He let her ground him. 

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I… I’m okay. I think. Just–” He glanced down at his hands. “It was the booth. The photo booth. I–it was so bright…And then…”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His voice dropped, his eyes flicking toward the booth like it might still be watching. His chest rose and fell unevenly. “I saw the photos, and I–I didn’t look like me. I didn’t look alive. But, look, look now! They look normal, right?” As normal as they could covered in blood.

[undrtaken]

༝༝ ⚰️ ༝༝ 

He didn’t need to provide an explanation, not really. Carmen would listen if he needed to express the feeling, but never pushed to relive anything he wished to keep between himself and the photo booth. It had betrayed him, it seemed. Her curiosity was as piqued as fast as it vanished with concern. What mattered most to her was making sure Leon was alright.

At first, she didn’t know what to think besides the desire to get him medical attention. That didn’t seem like an item on his list as Leon started asking questions himself. This was bigger than them, than medicine, than even Carmen knew at the time. She didn’t understand, not fully, but she wanted to. Eyes scanning the photographs for red flags (except for the obvious crimson stains) and coming up empty, she turned back to Leon.

“You’re safe now,” was all that came out at first. His alertness didn’t go unnoticed, and Carmen wanted to make sure he knew that for certain above all else. “They’re… just normal pictures.” Not that she hadn’t believed him, but more confusion about what occurred between the booth and now as they sat on the ground. Her brows were knotted while observing the photos without knowing what she was looking for in the first place.

“Can we get you out of here? Maybe get your hands looked at? Then we can try to figure out what the fuck just happened.” It was bold to assume he would allow anyone to interfere in something so questionable. Still, Carmen had to do something. “I could even do it at the mortuary,” she offered, as a middle ground in case he didn’t wish to share the peculiarities of the events that had occurred. Whatever had happened made her skin crawl, only imagining how Leon felt, and the desire to get as far away as possible lingered in her gut.

[angstfactory]

"Watch it," a hand came up to press past a couple stuck in liplock and blocking the way. Or, they were in Tracy's way, as the man was in no mood to veer off his own course to accommodate their public display of affection, regardless of the fact there was plenty of room to go around. "Get a room, jackass," Tracy shoved by, pretending not to hear the 'blow me, buttwad' response from the other male, who promptly returned to macking his girlfriend. Why did he come here? He should have stayed inside, nurse this headache, avoid the nauseating sight of couples and families enjoying their lives. Seeing other people so happy and gleeful always churned up that inner misery and bitterness. These two emotions almost bled out of him, in that slightly disheveled slick look, unkempt hair, even a five o'clock shadow. Tracy had paused, busy digging into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, when Carmen suddenly appeared from thin air. He barely even glanced up. "Nah, told her to scram," he muttered, exhaling in frustration when he saw the pack was empty. Fingers curled in on it, crumpling the useless box, before finally giving his older sister a steady look. "What is this? Are you trying to bond?"

[undrtaken]

༝༝ timeskip ༝༝ 

Leon's blood was still stuck beneath her chipped black nail polish. No matter how hard she'd washed her hands, it felt like the day would haunt her. Now that he'd been taken care of and she was left to her own devices, the early hours of the morning creeping across the horizon but Carmen saw no sleep in her future. In fact, there was space made for more anxieties and her thoughts fell onto her brother. While Tracy had a handle on himself, she couldn't lose another. Without much thought Carmen was on her way to his place, her hands thumping against the wheel offbeat with the music seeping from her speakers. Her worry was getting the best of her. Seeing Leon that way gave a weight to her chest that Carmen hadn't expected. She was realizing far more about herself than she planned and much faster than she would've liked.

Before long the dark-haired girl was at her brother's door knocking furiously, impatient for him to open up. She didn't need him to say anything even if he had been annoyed at her early disturbance: he was safe. Her arms were around his neck and pulling him into a hug the moment she got clarification that he was alright. "I just had to know you were okay," Carmen spoke finally pulling back and allowing her heart rate a break for the first time in hours.

[duallpa]

MELISSA BARRERA via lilly_keys on Instagram (March 7, 2023)

[hearthandhallows]

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Leon laughed so hard he nearly had to steady himself against the mirror, his body hiccuping with delight. His reflection looked like some kind of enchanted meatball with limbs, ridiculous and bulbous and vaguely cursed. He pointed at it, eyes wide with glee. “Oh my god, Carmen, I look like a haunted bao bun. This is terrible!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The carnival wasn’t exactly his usual haunt. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it–just that he was more often found wandering graveyards with Carmen, whispering observations about lichen-covered headstones or unusual flower arrangements left behind. Sauntering through a funhouse of warped mirrors was wildly off-script.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ But he had no complaints.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Okay, but you,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his own, “look like one of those novelty pasta noodles. Like... fancy Italian Gumby. Not regular Gumby. He wishes he was as cool as you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He caught her eye in the mirror, both of them stretched and warped into something halfway between comedy and nightmare, and grinned. “Hey, Carm? What if we get our faces painted?” The suggestion hung there, playful, impulsive. “I think it could be kind of hilarious to see. I mean, look at me.” He gestured vaguely at himself, draped in black-on-black layers, metal chains glinting faintly under the funhouse lights, a few piercings catching the glow like quiet stars. “I don’t really look like someone lining up for butterflies and sparkles.” No, he didn’t look like someone who wanted to splash color on his face, but with Carmen? He felt like trying something new.

[undrtaken]

༝༝ timeskip ༝༝ 

They were enjoying the last night of the carnival together, Carmen savoring the one more dose of her favorite attractions. She wanted to enjoy one more bag of caramel corn and separated from Leon in order to grab herself one. She promised to return with a tasty treat for them to snack on as they continued to roam. Every other night she'd come had been only getting better than the last, a certain kind of lightness to her chest when he was around. Tonight should've been the same but Carmen was sucker-punched with reality instead.

He was on the ground, only starting to rise up as she rushed towards him. While not wanting to startle him more her concerned overwhelmed anything that might've stopped her from going to him. The popcorn hit the ground, only saved from ruin by a twist tie, nothing else mattered but Leon. "Are you okay?" Carmen hit her knees, reaching out to assist in bringing him back to the present. Then the warm drip, drop of something on her nearly-bare leg, her black tights not being near enough to protect the girl from the elements. Blood hadn't been what she expected when picking her outfit that evening. "Your hands." The words came out more shaky than she wanted.

[lovesspell]

"Throwing knives? Yeah that tracks," he agreed, looking her over for a moment before turning back to the bar. "I think a dark green could definitely be your color. Black gets old after a while, you know? You're not a priest for Christ's sake." He laughed at his own words, visualizing it for a second but he supposed if most priests looked like her then he would probably go to church more.

"A bottle of whiskey? No, no you gotta aim higher than that. At least bourbon," he teased and then tried not to choke at the reminder of her brother. It was something he knew, something he remembered when it happened but not something that would easily come to his mind. It wasn't as if he had been caring for her feelings. "Right," he said after a moment, thanking the bartender for their next round. "Bullshit. The living room is still boring, you deserve something a bit more mystical than that after all the years around dead bodies." He nudged her drink towards her, his way of saying sorry without actually saying it. "Like in a grand forest or in the middle of a cemetery. Whatever you goths like." He took a few sips of his drink and let out a content sigh at the taste of it, having to admit he felt more like himself than he had a minute ago. A problem, for sure, but not one he ever really planned on addressing.

"I know I'm talking a bunch of shit. No one really gets to choose any of these things. But it's important to not act like it's something to be feared. I mean I could go tomorrow. Am I proud of my life? Well, no. But I'll be dead so what do I really care, you know?"

[undrtaken]

༝༝ ⚰️ ༝༝ 

Maybe if she had the time to pick up a hobby, she'd consider getting better at the bar trick. For now, she'd keep it to her pocket knife and a tree when the opportunity presented itself. Not everyone was lucky in the same way as Carter, who experienced the world sucking on a silver spoon. She'd been watching him eat life by the spoonful while people like her were lucky to catch a few crumbs. It's why she believed he treated so many things as disposable, but Carmen couldn't be swayed. Life hadn't been kind to her in that way. "I have preferences." Her black wardrobe was done by choice, finding a joy in the color and the aesthetics of her dark attire, one that Carter clearly didn't understand. A lot of things about Carmen he didn't understand, which he continued to make as clear as the crystal she assumed he typically drank from.

"Some people are simple and don't need all the other bullshit," Carmen reiterated. The drink met her hand then, needing to layer her life with what soothed the harsher realities. Things people like him couldn't seem to comprehend. "For being around it so much, I don't think about my own." All she knew was that she wanted to go quick. The rest, she didn't mind. Details at that time were pointless, according to Carmen, who saw firsthand that regardless of what they were, everyone ended up in the same place. "In a cemetery does seem ironic though, I don't hate the sound of that," the goth mused before taking another swig.

Carter caught her ear then, a curiosity if he understood more than he let on, or at least to some extent. They might've seen things through opposite lenses, but the picture wasn't all that different. "I don't want to go with any regrets, that's something I can control." She pondered if she was proud of the life she'd lived so far, but settled on the unknown, thinking that wasn't so simple to measure. "People are just afraid of what they can't avoid. Doesn't matter how much money you have, people you know, good shit you do. We're all ending up dead."

[ngatwa]

YOUR MONSTER (2024) dir. Caroline Lindy

[undrtaken]

closed starter for tracy (@angstfactory) located at the cardinal hill carnival

Since her brother got back into town, he seemed like something was twisting at him, but in typical Contreras fashion, she didn't confront Tracy head-on. He'd been gone for a while, not that they didn't keep in contact, but not the way they should've. Carmen was distant in general, had been ever since the incident, while simultaneously loving her family more than anything. Now it left her in quite the predicament, where she wanted to be closer to him while acknowledging the space she had part in creating. While she intended to run into Leon, Carmen got there early to wander for a bit and ended up stumbling on her brother. It was unusual that he was alone, but she took the opportunity to swoop in instead. "No hot date?" An eyebrow arched before the words even left her mouth, eyes scanning the variety of game stalls that might have held his date. Tracy never had to try, or she didn't think so, and even he wasn't immune to heartache. The whole family remembered Fallon, thinking she'd be the one to tie him down, only to find out she did the very opposite, and Carmen hated her ever since. She didn't ask if they'd faced one another yet, even if the curiosity nipped at her. If he wanted to, then he would, or she hoped so. "I bet I can still kick your butt in a water gun race," the woman mused with intent on enticing him to play.

[undrtaken]

closed starter for leon (@hearthandhallows) located at the cardinal hill carnival

It wasn't like Carmen to go to these sorts of things, not that she didn't want to, but most of the time she allowed work to take more of her time than necessary. Leon had been good to get her out of her cave. Sometimes she wondered if the mortician themself would rot away in the confines of her office, tucked in the back corner of the mortuary. He'd been a light even when she hadn't realized her life in darkness. While she'd also bumped into her brother that day, there was one person in particular who had gotten her to show up.

The funhouse mirror twisted her body so that she looked like an hourglass pulled at its edges like warm sugar. Laughter was already tumbling out before she caught a glimpse of Leon's, which had done the exact opposite, shrinking him down and filling him out like a dumpling. "Wow, we've literally never looked better," the raven-haired girl gushed amid bundles of giggles. She wasn't acting like herself. Carmen didn't think of herself as unhappy, not really, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like this. "I've always wanted to look like Gumby after he got run over."

[hearthandhallows]

✿ A Tessa Violet Song for every character relationship. Tennessee - Leon & Carmen ✿

"Down an old dirt road where there's no where to go but into you, into you. By the willow tree where it's just you and me we'll say I love you-I love you too." (@undrtaken)

[bwbeautyqueens]

MELISSA BARRERA photographed by Eduardo Medrano for Latina Magazine - January 2022 -

[hearthandhallows]

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ At the compliment, Leon beamed, eyes sparkling at his friend like the sun had caught in his irises. “I’m so glad you think so,” he said softly, voice full of quiet joy. He’d spent so many hours tucked away in the corners of his parents’ old library, his nose buried in textbooks and field guides, learning everything he could about anatomy, preservation, symbolism. Later, when he was older, it was Floyd who had helped him refine all that academic knowledge into delicate, practical skill–steady hands and even steadier intention. Thank God for Cardinal Hill. There weren’t many places that would let someone like him practice something so old and strange and beautiful with respect.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “They deserve it,” he added after a beat, voice just above a whisper. “The animals. I think about how people look at them when they’re alive–curious, gentle, maybe even amused. And I want that to carry on even after. Like... they should be remembered with reverence. Still beautiful. Still seen.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When Carmen mentioned wanting to watch him work, Leon’s face flushed nearly immediately, his hands curling a little in front of him as if to contain the sudden flurry of nerves. “I wouldn’t mind. I would like that a lot, actually.” His voice was still soft, but there was something brighter threading through it now, shy and excited. “It’d be kind of nice, honestly. Usually it’s just me and the little guys, and I’m used to being the one looking over someone else’s shoulder. Having someone see my process? That sounds... kind of special.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He paused thoughtfully, then tilted his head with a smile. “Would you rather see a weasel or another bird? I’ve got a few candidates I’m prepping, and I’ve been meaning to try something more dynamic. Like a posture that tells a story, you know? Not just stillness. Something mid-leap, maybe. Like you caught them in motion.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His face continued to redden as they spoke, especially when the topic shifted to food, of all things. “I’d be excited to try it,” he admitted, the words shy but genuine. “I trust your taste. I’m sure it’s amazing.” There was a pause where he hesitated, then added, “I’ve never really shared a meal I didn’t make myself, outside of, um… sandwiches.” He gave a nervous little laugh. “Clearly, seeing as I brought take-out.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ So when she offered a tour, he nodded quickly, eyes wide and a little awe-struck. “I would love that?” he said, his voice lifting like a question, full of open curiosity and quiet enthusiasm. He looked around as if the place itself might open up to reveal its secrets. “I bet you’ve got the best stories tucked into the corners of this place.”

[undrtaken]

༝༝ ⚰️ ༝༝ 

It was something special, the life he brought back into the creatures that had been stripped of it. Carmen's job wasn't quite as whimsical, creating what could be a familiar face, but they would never look lively again. People were different, less forgiving in death than they were in life. Not everyone understood a beauty to be found in the end, and in her opinion, Leon perfected it in a way she would never be able to. In her palms was more than a trinket or a kind gesture. "It's perfect," she confirmed softly, more for the object itself to hear than its creator, still admiring the latest addition to her workspace.

"I don't know how you do it." A delicate balance between taxidermy looking true to life, or posed, and Leon always seemed to breathe warmth into stiff bodies. She admired his talent, really. He'd done them well and maybe even a respect the creatures hadn't experienced in life. "It's like you plucked them from a photo," the dark-haired woman mused. The entire process fascinated her, wanting to see it firsthand if he so allowed. Carmen understood the need to be alone to do such a task and wouldn't dare intrude if that time was sacred. His interest in the idea brought a brightness to her usually gloomy expression. It wasn't that she intended to typically wear a frown, but found it suited her best. "It'd be an honor to watch you work," she admitted. "You won't even know I'm there.'' Carmen would respect the space she'd been gifted a spot in. All she would be was an observer and not a distraction.

What he did was something she didn't understand, while enjoying each one she'd been lucky enough to see. Normally, she didn't crave knowledge since she had a good understanding of her own niche interest. Leon's ability to bring life back from death was one Carmen had yet to truly achieve. If she could catch a glimpse of an artist at work, she wouldn't miss it. "A weasel sounds intriguing..." An eyebrow went up in curiosity at the thought, but fell naturally back into her smile while watching him take in her interest. Perhaps they understood a part of each other that much of the world didn't. She felt it, to say the least. He wasn't like everyone else. "Lots of posing options, too."

A laugh tumbled out after her words. While unsurprised that he hadn't been one to cook, Carmen found it endearing and wanted to teach him at least a single meal to make. Her mother made sure her firstborn knew how to care for herself, and it was expected of the eldest daughter to be in the kitchen during holidays. She'd been taught by who Carmen considered the very best. "You have no idea how good her food is. We'll have to change that," the woman noted for another time. Today, they would feast on what Leon had been kind enough to bring.

Interest in her own work made a beam form that Carmen had never experienced before. This would be the first person she let into her world; no one else would've understood, but she could sense he could. "After lunch, I'll give you the grand tour." An arm motioned to their surroundings and their extent that would be the next stop of the day. "I've got a few, I have yet to see someone walk out of here, though." A joke rooted in truth, many wondered if she'd seen her clients walk the halls, and it had yet to occur. Only the ghost of the person who followed her everywhere, and the expected uneasiness of the mortuary after certain cases. They were in the safety of her office, momentarily crossing through the room they'd tour soon. There, her hummingbird was given a place of honor on her desk, and manila folders moved to create room for a makeshift dining table. "I might not have gotten around to eating today if it weren't for you," she said, pulling out the meal for them to enjoy. Carmen was no stranger to getting caught up in her day, but this one had been saved from starvation.

[lovesspell]

"Stealing? Please, it's a gift to treat me. You can tell stories about it one day when I'm famous," he told her with a smirk, still reaching into his pockets. His fingers fumbled a bit with his wallet but he eventually dropped enough cash on the bar for the both of them to drink comfortable for the rest of the night. "You'd make a hot Robin Hood now. Something tells me you'd somehow know how to use a bow and arrow." Carmen had always held an air of mystery for him, maybe that was why he annoyed her so much. Maybe he thought she'd eventually let him in on whatever secret he was convinced she was keeping. Carter let out a loud laugh and rolled his eyes. "My dear, dear Carmen. I'm an actor, you think I don't think about death? You don't have a monopoly on that because you're around it all of the time. All of the money in the world can't save you from death. Believe me, many have tried but none have succeeded," he told her with a shrug and drained his glass along with her before ordering another round. "And what would you do then? If you knew you were going to die tomorrow?" He turned towards her more so he could actually take in, trying not to be so obvious in his observation. "I think I'd probably go somewhere near the water. Imagine dying in your living room? Fucking boring."

[undrtaken]

༝༝ ⚰️ ༝༝ 

For as long as she’d had the inconvenient task of entertaining Carter, he’d been the same. Whether it was a snarky comment or astute observation, he made it clear where he stood in the world was above others, including the mortician. Carmen didn’t view herself as anyone requiring respect to the same extent and let him have the words he seemed to need to say, perhaps to hear his own voice. The bills on the counter spoke what kindness she imagined his tongue couldn’t fathom, and she’d drink to that. “I’m actually not half bad with throwing knives,” she mused out loud. If given the task of stealing from the pockets bursting with entitlement, she’d put her nimble fingers to the test for the cause. “I don’t really think green is my color, though.” It was odd to see Carmen in a shade that wasn’t moody, and green didn’t get much attention (if any) in her closet.

Their conversation shifted to something she was more comfortable with: death. Not everyone would agree with her on that front, but to the woman who looked it in the eye daily, considered the grim reaper a friend of sorts — more than she could say for Carter. “You say it like I don’t know,” she mused with an arch of her brow and eyes glancing to their next round of drinks as the bartender prepared them for consumption. She’d need it where this was going. “No one escapes her.” To Carmen, death was a woman, the bringer of being, the same hand to take it away. “See my family, drink that bottle of whiskey I’ve been saving for a rainy day,” she thought out loud. A question that started to pique her curiosity and the things she thought about more often than most was abruptly brought to a stop. He’d itched the scab so that it broke skin, and her past seeped through. “That’s how my brother died,” the woman replied bluntly, no expression to be found. If he thought before he spoke, he might’ve remembered that, but Carmen wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t, expecting nothing less. “So I’d take the living room.”

[lovesspell]

Carter told himself that he wouldn't end up at the bar that night. He really did try but as he left the theater his feet started on the familiar path and before he knew it, there he was. He had been doing better, or at least he told himself he was. If better was not flaking from work than he was doing better but that was a pretty low bar for him these days. When he got to the bar and saw Carmen, his most annoying smile graced his features. Beautiful, a perfect distraction for tonight. Nothing like banter with someone who couldn't stand him to give him some real energy. He almost whistled with glee as he walked over and dropped himself into the seat next to her, motioning for his usual from Paul before turned to her. "No, you just happen to be sitting next to my favorite seat. It's almost like you knew I was coming." As the drink was placed in front of him, he said thank you and then said, "This is on her tab. Thanks, Dr. Doom," he told her and held up his glass. "Uh, what are we drinking to? How about living another day on this spinning ball of heat? That feels like accomplishment enough."

[undrtaken]

༝༝ ⚰️ ༝༝ 

He seemed pleased with himself, but Carmen's lack of enthusiasm only added hot air to his balloon that effortlessly soared already. Not that the man needed more encouragement. The dark-haired girl stared him down for a moment, feeling no need to hurry in finding more things to say. Whatever space might be left for silence, she was certain Carter would find a way to fill it with his own verbal fluff. "It's not," she corrected without breaking her stare on the unwelcome guest. "Stealing from the poor, I see. How typical of you, Prince John." A familiarity with the character she couldn't deny, wondering if a Robin Hood had ever existed in the life of the overtly wealthy fool. As for her nickname, it didn't go unnoticed, though she didn't mind it and wished to keep that to herself, so he didn't stop using it in reference to her. If only he knew how accurate it was. "You seem chipper to be alive." An eyebrow arched, Carmen giving a tap to his glass with her own before shooting down the rest. "I prefer the term surviving," she amended. "Could die tomorrow for all we know." Death felt far too close to touch when exposed to it in the way Carmen was, though she wasn't afraid of the inevitable; she knew it could find her at any time. "Not like someone like you worries about that sort of thing." It wouldn't surprise her if he expected every morning to come as if the world were lucky to have him there for another day.

[undrtaken]

closed starter for carter (@lovesspell) located at the breaking glass bar

A weekday typically meant she had the bar to herself and the regular suspects. There were a couple of men who practically lived at the bar on slow nights, Carmen wondering where they went back to or if it was just to their car to pass out. As for her, she never had enough that it mattered; even so, she lived within walking distance. In fact, if she hadn't come from work, she might've walked over, but it was her employment that brought her there in the first place. Some days, the weight of death found even her shoulders.

Carmen was enjoying the lull of the jukebox with an assortment of glasses clinking from the back. That was until it got interrupted by someone picking the seat beside hers while there were a handful of other spots. The woman went to give them a hard time, but suddenly it all made sense. "Couldn't pick any other seat, could you?" She gave a heavy exhale and took a sip of her whiskey to coat the conversation. "So what're we drinking to?" At least he could provide her with that since he decided to pick the spot next to her, as well as an excuse to drink another round.