[unwrtnwishes]

— BASICS

Name: Ximena Rodriguez  Age / D.O.B.: 34 (04.20.1990) Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis female, She/Her & Pansexual  Hometown: Queens, NYC Affiliation: Civilian  Job position: Lounge Singer  Education: Currently attempting to get her CNA (otherwise, some college)  Relationship status: Single Children: None Positive traits: Resourceful, Loyal, Amiable, Compassionate,  Outgoing Negative traits: Temperamental, Impulsive, Workaholic, Self-Conscious, Reserved 

— BIOGRAPHY

🥀 - Grew up in a middle class family, she is the third of the Rodriguez children.  🥀 - She found her passion for singing because of Selena Quintanilla, taking any chance she could, she could often be found singing her songs out loud to anyone who cared to listen. 🥀 - Being the eldest of three taught her to grow up a little quicker, but she didn’t mind, she loved being the protector of her younger siblings. She was known to keep their secrets, no matter how heavy they could be, and sometimes even getting trouble because of it. This sense of loyalty carried over to her friendships; she became known as a loyal friend, no matter the circumstances.  🥀 - Her father had always been in and out jail. One day, despite her still thinking he’s in a jail cell, it was reported that he was killed in a altercation at the center he had been staying at. He taught her everything she knew; from how to shoot a gun to all the way down to how to fish. 🥀 - When he was killed she became so distraught, despite telling  herself she couldn’t because of her family, Ximena blocked that day in her life entirely out of her head.  🥀 - With finances becoming more troublesome by the week in the Rodriguez household Ximena took her voice to the street for a little extra cash. She gained attention when she began doing covers upon request (just a $1 donation). She eventually landed a job as a lounge singer for one particular spot in town, but she bounced from place to place. 🥀 - She crosses paths with someone when she is twenty-nine and the two quickly became inseparable. She was his ride or die, vice versa, and soon she found herself becoming his wife. 🥀 - The unfortunate part is that her new husband chose his job over building a family with her and their marriage took a nasty turn two years later. They did not end on good terms and to this day she refuses to talk to him if they run into each other. By the time she was thirty-two she was married and divorced and it made her head spin just thinking about it.  🥀 - She lives in a shitty little apartment that has no heat, crappy plumping, but at least the neighbors make her feel like she’s among family. She works a lot and still sends money to her mom any chance she gets. 

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS;

🥀 - EX HUSBAND: (FILLED BY: OPEN) 🥀 - NEIGHBORS: (FILLED BY: OPEN) 🥀 - CLOSE FRIEND: (FILLED BY: OPEN) 🥀 - PERSON WHO KILLED HER FATHER: (FILLED BY: OPEN)

[designedonchaos]

Where: The Brooklyn Museum Status: Closed ( @unwrtnwishes​ )

It’s a night of schmoozing, of bumping elbows and learning names and showing exactly how charming he can be. Marshall Gaffney, Professional Architect and West Manhattan Brotherhood Region Manager is a chameleon in crowds- especially those with deep pockets and snorting laughs. The type of big-wigs who ride their yachts to their third summer home and still only donate a few thousand dollars to the charity events. He knows them well, and he’s prepared to drop his business card in every single pasty hand he can.

But first, a drink or two. Nothing to hard tonight, at least not for now. The man’s fondness for scotch and gin has him eyeing the bottles behind the bar for an extended moment, but he sticks with a hard cider for now, seeing it on tap. Glorified apple juice, but with so many familiar faces (and not always the friendly ones) about, he doesn’t want to be anything but on his A game. The man is tall, decked out in blue and black brocade and a trailing cape over one shoulder. But he’s enticed by someone in a startlingly different color, seeing the beautiful soft pink and floral accoutrements on a shorter woman beside him. “Absolutely stunning, love.” He tells her casually as he reaches out for the drink with a nod to the bartender. “I know my Greek gods as well as the next bloke, but I feel a bit weird trying to guess.” He murmurs, taking a sip of the cider with a slight wince. Yeah, bit too sweet for his liking but it’ll do. “But, if y’don’t mind me saying so… you look as beautiful as Aphrodite.” 

[unwrtnwishes]

the aroma of sweet sin mixed with innocence filled the air tonight as the gods gathered around to mingle with the mortals for a single evening. it was a night in which she could escape reality for a moment and pretend like she belonged among the stars; she chose the goddess of spring, persephone as her inspiration for the affair. admittedly, she did feel a little out of her league but she was going to play the part to her best abilities. she’s determined to put her name out there somehow, perhaps a golden opportunity for a more stable gig could come of tonight, if anything, ximena hoped to walk from the gala having made at least one connection this evening.

after greeting a couple of familiar faces, catching up a bit, she found herself parched, ximena made her way towards the bar. she decides to keep it simple for the time being as the last thing she needs to make a fool of herself here of all places, so she places an order for a kir royale. brown eyes that twinkled like two freshly polished smokey quartz shifted attention from the drink in her hand, she was admiring how pretty it looked, over to the tall male next to her when he spoke to her and she greeted his conversation (and compliment) with a soft smile and cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “sweet words from a devilishly handsome man such as yourself are dangerous, a warning i’ve been told plenty of times before, yet i find myself wondering where someone such as yourself has been hiding this entire evening.” perhaps she should’ve came as aphrodite. “aphrodite is a great guess, she crossed my mind a couple of times, i’ll give you that. however, i ended up choosing the goddess of spring, persephone. if i may be so bold, you look dashing. if you’re here with someone, i’m surprised they let you of their sight.”

[unwrtnwishes]

               𝕏𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕒 ℝ𝕠𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕫 𝕒𝕥 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕝𝕪𝕟 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕦𝕞                             🌸𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮🌸

🪷- inspiered by the godess of spring, persephone, ximena’s dress is a soft, sily pink dress decorated with big and small flowers. her make up is a light shade of pink eyeshadow and lipstick. 

[unwrtnwishes]

ariaboughton​:

The car that looked out of commission in front of her, and the one that had pulled up to a quick stop behind it caught her attention. The guy who had hopped out of the second car looked a bit mad, and without thinking Aria crossed into the street to put herself between him and the woman. Blocking his view, she turned to Ximena with a wide smile. “Hey- maybe we could take a walk to get some water? Put a note on the car? I’m sure, uh..” She gestures to the state of it and scratches the back of her neck, “I’m sure no one’s gonna try and steal it or anything, considering. Or I could help you pay for the tow, either or.”

“honestly,” she lightly sighed, defeated, “i’m up for going to get some water and slapping the sticky note on this carcacha. if someone does come along and steals it then they would just be saving me the tow fees.” she reached into her car (for perhaps the last time) to grab her bag, taking out an old grocery store receipt to write a small note on the back of it. “i think the ‘brb. don’t touch.’ should do it, don’t you?” she chuckled as she set the little piece of paper underneath one of her wipers, throwing the bag over her shoulder, “you know, i think there’s a place near by that sells fresh waters. have you ever had a freshly made hibiscus iced tea? it’s actually on the way to the nearest gas station if you’re interested.”

[unwrtnwishes]

to: open!! where: somewhere on the outskirts of the city or maybe off of a major highway. whatever works for you!

“hijo de su chingada madre!” the exclamation follows a swift kick to the side of her beloved (at least, most of the time)  nissan. a rather old car, purchased back in the early 2000′s, a now faded shade of black, she’d always refused to replace it. “piece of shit car…” ximena huffed. she leans back to sit against the edge of the bonnet, slumping forward, the rather tenebrous waft of dark grey smoke bellowing from the gap of the bonnet lid. she weighs the cost in her head, to call a tow truck and get it repaired, or tossing it to the side of the road to send the piece of shit to it’s maker. amidst her internal argument between sentimentality and having a functioning reliable vehicle, she hears the drag of wheels grinding to a holt behind her parked nissan. “i know, it looks bad —” holding her hands up in front of her chest, as if in defeat, “it’s just a bit overheated and i don’t have emergency water, was just debating on whether it’s worth it to call a tow or toss it off the edge here and call it a day.”