dahliu

[dahliu]

crashingintotheworld​:

@dahliu

​

As always Xander was one to come to an appointment early but the perks of that was he didn’t mind waiting. He lucked out that Dahlia had an opening when he called a few days ago and managed to get him in on a shorter notice than he would usually give her. The excitement of finishing up his arm tattoo got hyped up like Christmas time would. He sat on the curb of the street just watching cars go by and got some fresh air. He got up as he saw the brunette and gave a friendly smile. “Hey, Dahlia.“

-

she always likes when her clients are excited about their tattoos, because they’re usually on top of their shit. like xander, always bright and ready, they’ve had a few appointments already, his tattoo the kind that requires multiple sessions. so it’s nice to see him sat outside the parlor, before it’s even open. she peers over her sunglasses, and flashes him a smile, taking a sip of her coffee from her steaming to go cup. “what’s up, dude?” she asks, nonchalantly, moving towards the door, as her free hand searches for the keys to the place. “you ready to be done today?”

[dahliu]

ledavalenti​:

associating herself with other extraterrestrials was a risk , but knowing of the liu’s desire to keep undercover made her feel a little more comfortable with the matter of reaching out . life was for living , earth was somewhere to explore and enjoy and how best to break from her usual closed-off nature than with the promise of a smoke . “ has anyone ever told you those things kill you ?? “ the smirk showed she was joking , something she’d been told time and time again by humans who had no idea who or what she was . a cigarette , in it’s entirety , posed less of a threat than the human race did , and she’d rather puff on tobacco than approach a stranger on the street in fear they were wrapped up in federal business . taking the joint from the other she puffed a cloud of smoke , an effortless ring materialising into the air which swayed side to side in her own control until dissipating into nothingness . “ – you read the news ?? “ was her first take , chuckling and nudging her friend with the point of her elbow , “ something about living in the desert drives people crazy , i don’t know . just leave the damn cows alone , “

-

she quirks a brow, growing up half human half alien, it was a unique experience. she doesn’t quite feel like she fits into either. she just wants to stay under the radar, act like a normal person, have a normal life. to as much of a degree as she can. and pretending for a couple of hours, well, that’s not too bad. “yeah, if i’m smoking a cigarette,” she points out, with a smirk. “they’ve said nothing about weed yet,” she replies, taking a long inhale of the joint. or if they have, she’s missed it completely. either way, she partakes, uncaring overall that it could catch up, knowing half of her dna functions differently. she exhales the smoke, watching it furl into little wisps. she snorts, passing it back once more. “yeah, it’s a habit,” she replies, with a shrug. “gotta know how the world’s gone to shit somehow.” plus it’s her little ritual, coffee and a newspaper-- maybe she’s an elderly man. “i know, like, what the fuck did those cows ever do to you, you know?” plus what bad movie did she stumble out of? cow tipping? “eh-- could’ve been worse, somehow.” 

[dahliu]

ezrajeanlapointe​:

~

She was used to Buffy getting an intense amount of attention, her sweet face usually drawing strangers in from every which way, striking up a conversation between two people that otherwise probably wouldn’t interact. When Ezra had spoken, she knew she’d been just a little too loud, knew that she’d catch the attention of someone that probably didn’t know her enough to understand the whimsical side she otherwise kept wrapped up for fear of judgement. “They are, yeah. Tiny little assholes that cause hate and discontent whenever they damn well please, and I think a lot of people assume that I’m pretty harmless otherwise. Little do they know, I’ve got that gremlin side that rears its ugly head whenever it feels like it. The blonde chuckled softly, her lips tugging into a soft smile as she watched her dog soak up the attention. “I’d probably be more Tinkerbell, though. Little bit petty but otherwise nice. Definitely not scared to play tricks on people.”

-

it’s not like she hasn’t heard weirder. she’s spent a good chunk of her life in new york, the streets a lot more livelier than roswell, new mexico. so she’s not that opposed to starting a conversation. perhaps a little more friendlier than the typical person in the north east, but she’s never had a problem striking up a conversation with someone. “don’t we all? have a side of us that nobody quite expects?” she knows what hers is, all too well. the destruction that can come with her ability if she wasn’t careful. “i know i’d go apeshit on occasion.” she’s calm, but she’s intense. a little messy. she holds her hand out for the dog to sniff, and when she thinks the dog is alright with her, she nods. “can i pet her?” she asks, not wanting to touch the dog without permission. you just never know. she nods, leaning back in her seat, wishing she brought fred out. she didn’t have enough time to run home and grab him. “she’s mischievous, but it’s not her only trait,” she tells her, with a nod. “well rounded. and pretty adorable.”

[dahliu]

copelandpoynter​:

Most days, she felt like an annoying little sibling that was more of a nuisance than anything else. And then there were days when Copeland really just needed to be in the same room as Dahlia, if only to be around another person. She’d spent so much time alone for the last few years, that she knew she had a craving to finally have someone around that didn’t put pressure on her, and didn’t make her feel bad for who she was. Their life living in the same apartment seemed rather comfortable, each girl respecting the other and their living spaces, but also sharing a certain bond that Copeland couldn’t quite bring herself to give anyone else. Sighing softly, Cope lulled her head to look at her roommate, her long arm outstretching so she could give her arm a gentle pinch. “What the hell do you want for dinner?” she muttered, her stomach already growling and reminding her that she hadn’t gotten around to eating that day. “And do we want to cook, or do we want to be irresponsible and order takeout?”

@dahliu​

-

the one thing she liked about this living arrangement was she gets company if she needs it, and left alone if she wants it. after seriously living with someone she had considered the love of her life, it felt weird to move back alone, and even more so, near your parents. with copeland, she at least got someone around to sound off her stupid ideas with, or to sit by while the other went about their usual tasks. she’s scratching fred behind the ears, half focused on the cat’s soft purring when copeland speaks, dark eyes shifting their gaze to the brunette. “i mean, i’m fucking lazy,” she replies, with a shrug, hand not breaking away from the cat. “and is it really irresponsible or simply just us accepting we’re not chefs?” she asks, head tilting. “i’d say take out. but that’s just me.”

[dahliu]

fletcherliu​:

-

“ i’ll have you know this cologne costs more than you’re worth . i’d like to see you even try to pronounce it , “ his sister’s return to roswell hadn’t been one fletcher had anticipated . things should’ve been the other way around ; he always planned to move to the big city , using his ability to get exactly where he wanted in life with flashy cars and marbled , high-end apartments , but instead the break-out star of the family had fluttered back to new mexico like a boomerang . the two would never shake free of each other , despite differences that meant they were rather destructively juxtaposed . “ – what about this ?? “ ignoring his sister’s foul tone he slid across the screen of his phone , tapping the image , stepping back and crossing large arms back over his chest awaiting a response . whatever he’d chosen , whether it was dainty , eye-catching , intricate , would inevitably be ripped to shred’s by the younger ( and , in his opinion , the less civilised ) liu . the symbols spelled the word ‘ flame ‘ in mandarin , to match some of the other etchings across his body , some he was more proud of than other’s . nora’s name would forever taint the inner skin of his index finger regardless of how that fling ended up . “ should’ve tattooed the dick on the fucker that sent you back here , “

-

“sometimes things that are expensive... are worse,” she replies, referencing a very memeable moment from a web series. “plus it smells like ass.” she likes to make fun of him for his taste, always one of higher caliber than dahlia, who usually took a more cheaper route. they weren’t alike in a lot of ways, but neither could leave the other alone, the bond of siblings outweighing any destructive tendencies either manifested. and definitely, there were some destructive tendencies. maybe she feels a little foolish, not being able to handle it, and she missed new york plenty, she just simply missed here more. eyes flicker down to the symbols. “you sure you don’t just want a big old bonfire on your lower back? any more fire symbolism we trying out?” she quips, with a roll of her eyes, but as much as she pokes fun at him and his complete conspicuity, she’ll obviously do this for him. she knows plenty of things, as much as he likes to think she doesn’t, but she definitely knows her tattoos, and how to make them look nice. at the mention of her former partner, she glances up at her brother, eyes shooting daggers. “fletcher,” she warns, because she’s not in the mood to speak about them.

[dahliu]

dahlia flicks the lighter a couple times, until it takes, the small flame dancing reminiscent of her brother in some ways. just like he’s fire, she’s water, go with the flow, easy, calm with a storm brewing underneath. and her relationships often reflect either the ripple or the tumultuous waves that come with it. with leda, it feels like being rocked by a steady wave. it’s easy to be around her, comfortable even. she lights the joint between her lips, and inhales-- it’s not something she does often, but sometimes after long sessions at the parlor, she needs to unwind, so she calls leda. she coughs, once, not quite used to the smoke yet, and hands it to her. “i was reading the news today, and saw some stupid kids got caught trying to tip a cow,” she tells the other. “what is this? a bad 80s movie? that’s, like, near impossible.” / @ledavalenti​

[dahliu]

ezrajeanlapointe​:

With Buffy at her feet and a book in her lap, a soft breeze blew through Ezra’s hair as she took in Roswell’s weather. It was so rare for her to have time off from work these days that she’d hardly remembered what she used to do. The apartment was clean, the bed was made, and the grocery shopping was finished, so the only thing to do was attempt to finish one of the hundreds of books she’d been hoarding. Her selection was vast, with a book in each corner of her tiny apartment, threatening to trip someone up if they stepped wrong, her own pale skin covered with bruises from hitting the corner of a table wrong when she fell. To her, though, it was worth it, especially given how lost she could get between the pages sometimes. “I wish I were a faerie,” she muttered now, small fingers pressing into pages as she looked over to the person at her side. “Small, cute, can fly away whenever they damn well please. That’s the dream.”

@roswellstarters​

to be completely honest, she saw the dog before she saw the girl. which is usually how things go, and she would have definitely taken fred out if she wasn’t coming straight from work, sketchbook in tow, to practice her five minute figure drawing on the unsuspecting folks at roswell. she can only make copeland pose as many times as she can, really. she doesn’t even register the blonde until she speaks, looking up from her sketchbook (mainly used for flash ideas), she scrunches her nose. “aren’t they also total assholes?” she asks, because from her faerie knowledge, you usually don’t fuck with them. “they play tricks on you and shit, if you don’t follow their rules. would you be that kind? or tinkerbell?” a pause. “maybe you can be a faerie for halloween. you got two of the three things down.”

[dahliu]

elodie-adams​:

Half an hour before The Stalk Market closed and Elodie was making bouquets for the next day. The music blasted through the speakers as she removed the leaves from the stems of some daisies and made clean cuts on the bottoms of the stalks. The work table in front of her was covered in different flowers and bits of foliage and she sang along as she tried different combinations together. She wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the flowers and Alex Turner’s voice singing along to the thrash of guitars and drums and had no clue she had an audience until she turned around to grab a piece of string from the roll on the other counter. “Oh fuck,” she gasped, jumping a little. Immediately reaching for the remote she lowered the volume on the stereo and blushed a little. “Sorry about that,” she tried to regain her composure. “How’s it going?” 

@roswellstarters​

she likes having fresh flowers. mostly for drawing reference, but also because she’s found that they brighten up the room for her. they make her feel a little bit like she has her shit together. and after everything, she really wants to feel like she has her shit together. so she stops into the stalk market on her way home from work that day, only to be met with alex turner’s voice and a woman who didn’t realize she was there. she waits, for a moment, hoping the other catches on, and when she does, she flashes a sheepish smile, and gives a wave. “hey-- i tried letting you know, but i almost felt like i was ruining your fun,” she quips, the smile falling into a lopsided smirk. “it’s... going. that’s for sure. i was wondering if i could take a look at any arrangements you have left over today?”

[dahliu]

fletcherliu​:

✮ ⟶ closed starter- @dahliu​

fletcher’s car was his pride and joy . his dream had always been to live the high life , maybe follow in dahlia’s footsteps moving to the big city , getting a penthouse apartment where he could sip on the most expensive champagne with a view of high-rise lights , sleepless surroundings . roswell was far from that but it was all he knew , the only excitement the male found coming from temporary adrenaline when needle touched skin . was it a blessing or a curse that his sister was qualified ?? the blue hanzi symbols that littered practically every inch would give you the answer , and there he was once again requesting more . parking up and throwing the door shut behind him the male sauntered through those doors , straight past the reception staff , spying those familiar features a mile off . “ hey , dickhead , “ he called throughout the parlour which , unmistakably , was directed at his sister hunched over one of the many benches , “ you look disgusting as ever . are you free to inflict pain on your favorite sibling ?? “

she’s only been back in roswell for two years, but it still feels weird. leaving and coming back to the only place she’s ever known as home, she almost feels displaced. like the spot she left had been filled, by whatever. of course, it was nice to be back near her parents, as they get older, and fletcher, even if he was a total dick sometimes. she’s become a fixture in the tattoo parlor, bringing in plenty of customers, but her most loyal one is fletcher himself-- perhaps because he likes the discounts he gets, or he doesn’t quite care what she puts on him as long as it looks nice. she’s sanitizing her bench when he enters, glancing lazily up from where she was cleaning. “hey fuckface-- i can smell your cologne all the way from here, makes me fuckin’ gag,” she tells him. the other artists don’t even blink, used to the foul language and the bickering of the two siblings. “i don’t have an appointment for the rest of the day, if that’s what you’re asking.” and yes, she does walk ins. “what’re you thinking? are you finally gonna let me tattoo a dick on you?”

[dahliu]

i’m byesexual as in bye don’t touch me

[dahliu]

Jane Austen ― Mansfield Park

[dahliu]

# grown siblings fighting over tamagotchis

[dahliu]

it’s been a day and i’m already back at it... welp yk the drill! if u want to plot with dahlia pls give this a like and i’ll hyu! 😇

ＤＡＨＬＩＡ ＬＩＵ

28 years old from roswell, new mexico and has been in roswell for twenty-eight years. currently working as a tattoo artist !

triggers: none

born and raised in roswell, new mexico, dahlia has led a pretty normal life with her mother, her father, and her older brother, fletcher. it’s a normal existence, they’re a normal family, except for the fact that their dad is an alien, subsequently making dahlia and her brother hybrids. it’s never been something they particularly hid, but admittedly, dahlia was more reserved about her history than her brother.

her childhood is normal, she’s a pretty chill kid, she spends a lot of time rough housing with her brother and exploring the hamlet they’ve grown up with. she thinks the alien thing is kind of kitschy (not all of them are little green men!) but it’s home.

she’s always been very observant, growing up she wasn’t exactly the most popular, but she’s always had a bit of a leadership role in her group of friends. she’s the one who would drag them into situations, smoking behind the bleachers, partying in abandoned buildings, general teenage things. her merry band of misfits. she’s always felt like a freak. why not embrace it?

her artistic streak shown through since she was young, and from an early age, she knew she wanted to do something with it-- whatever that was, she wasn’t sure. until she was 17, and lied to get a tattoo; sitting in the chair, chatting with the artist, she found a niche. this was it. this is what she wanted to do.

but she didn’t want to do it in roswell, instead, she eventually secures an apprenticeship with a well known tattoo artist in new york city, and heads there. she completes it after a few years, and becomes a tattoo artist in the shop she apprenticed at. life is okay. no, better than okay. it’s good. she’s in a big city, she’s anonymous, and nobody suspects that she’s not completely from this world.

eventually, she meets someone, they fall for each other. they date for a couple years, eventually, they propose-- dahlia says yes. she’s happy. for a little. she’s happy with her new life. of course, she calls her family often, because it’s the one thing she misses about roswell-- them. but it feels like a new start.

of course, some things are too good to be true, and eventually, her and partner due to differing schedules and drifting apart, break up. and the wall that she had let down for them goes back up.

at 26, she returns back home, because frankly, new york becomes stifling after that, and she misses her family. so she runs back tail between her legs. she gets a job at a local tattoo shop and she’s been back since.

she’s always been a bit hard headed-- a bit stubborn. it’s not that she doesn’t care, but she’s always had this guard around her, walls that have been up to protect her from getting hurt. something she’s afraid of. after the break up they’re stronger than ever. she’s kind of blunt, kind of sarcastic, but she has an overall very chill demeanor. she knows how to command a room simply by staying level.

she has the power of hydrokinesis, or water manipulation, and essentially, it’s something she’s had to learn to control her whole life. she’s gone as far as being able to manipulate the water in someone else’s body, but it’s not a thing she does, if ever, because it simply feels wrong. she’s always had an affinity to water, anyhow, and she loves when it rains because it calms her down. she knows how destructive it can be, so she tries to keep it chill.

other 

she’s a tattoo artist so she’s covered in tattoos, she has two full sleeves and a chest piece and a few on her legs 

has a black cat, his name is fred, he’s her pal, he has a leash 

listens to a lot of lady singers, mitski, phoebe bridgers, florence welch, kate bush, it’s about the yearning 

usually in combat boots and jeans 

looooves horror movies, unsurprising, jennifer’s body had a significant impact on her 

another bisexual disaster, lovs women a lot 

nails are usually painted black and chipped, it keeps her from biting them 

wears a lot of dark colors sort of likes to blend in 

thunderstorms are her shit 

connection ideas 

clients! she’s good at what she does! 

pals to drink wine with and commiserate 

animal buddies

a best friend perhaps 

fwb / flings / etc.

exes (she’s lived here her whole life except the eight years in ny)

neighbors 

roommates?

people she knew from new york 

someone whos aware of her power/seen it in action 

someone who butt heads with her 

[dahliu]

[dahliu]

w/ a monotone voice “wow that is so wild”

[dahliu]

because there need to be more adrianne ho gifsets in the world.