f0olsgld

[f0olsgld]

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 immune, to feeling something for someone -- as well as feeling so foolish. no matter how robotic you were as you wandered through life, head turning on a swivel, that didn't make you any less human. her blood boiled with hate at the thought, like an aged teapot boiling over. she had always believed that the emotions she felt for diwata were nothing more than a romanticization, something that could never truly exist. but, she wasn't the only one in this world fighting through the mist of life to find the solace of clear skies once more. perhaps this was why she had found herself becoming so addicted to the woman, a fact that she had come to accept, but held close to her chest like a hand of cards. just friends, right? that was all they had ever been meant to be. there was no stronger monster than fear. every time her eyes locked with the other woman's -- she couldn't help but notice how it's vice grip wrapped just a bit tighter around her throat.

i want you. only you. the words sit at the edge of her tounge, but the fear of embarrassment curls its way around her arms in an attempt to hold her back -- a viper's finishing move. so she settles for leaning just a bit further into every touch, every caress.. for now, it's enough. it will have to be, if she's going to be of this earth. two sides of the same coin, there was one thing vivian hated just how much she understood: you can't tie someone down who simply won't let you. the only thing that had ever managed to keep vivian down was helltown, even if there was nothing else keeping her here.

" eh, i've never been one for that it's the universe bullshit anyway. " vivian sighs, finding something within her to flash the other woman a thin-lipped smile. liar. there must have been something out there in the fabric of space pulling the strings. she simply couldn't believe that she was just that unlucky. then comes a laugh that shocks vivian, specifically how natural it feels. it was not feigned or faked. " i'd say you're at least... on track. but don't be askin' me to say that again, cause won't be gettin' any kind of recorded proof. " the brunette teases, giving the other a light nudge. how does every light manage to find her, highlight exactly the right crevices of her cheeks? it will never cease to amaze her. eyes trail in the direction of the bartender, completely unaware of the moment they had just walked into. " just a beer for me, thanks. " once the bartender takes their leave, she turns to face diwata -- one question etched in her mind. she's almost afraid to ask. " just you tonight, or are ya meetin' some hot date? "

with all the unfortunate things that diwata has experienced for the past couple of years of her life, even before moving to helltown, it gradually changed her. the light inside them dimmed and it only went darker ever since their mother has passed, causing them to build their walls up and refuse connection with anyone they meet. of course, they have made friends, a few of them, and mostly focused on what they've learned to do over the years. it just has been diwata and the company the little mechanic shop she's started in her garage, and of course...some nights they'd be ending up with women in their bed, whom...they wouldn't stay for once morning comes. no one had the privilege to know her further than that.

except...perhaps, the presence standing behind them.

it was kind of an unspoken, open secret, diwata doesn't really hide anything, knowing there's a little to no chance would care about their escapades, except...vivian wasn't anything like that. though, the mechanic isn't going to give her the pleasure of knowing such thing. of course, she does look for other people's company too, maybe just to convince herself this isn't remotely close to anything, diwata promised herself and that should be what was happening. yet, somehow, that wasn't the case, a truth the mechanic doesn't want to face.

"it's starting to become a habit, viv. don't you think?" diwata only smirks in response, undeterred by the other's teasing whilst she takes a sip of her beer. this is actually part of their little programming now, something that is undeniably diwata falls into willingly. they have needs, diwata would always convince herself whenever she looks at vivian, yet beneath it all, they knew it deep inside that there's something more. diwata then glances to the bartender, asking them to put vivian's order on her tab, before responding to the woman's words. "i'd actually say the same to you, bloom." the mechanic then stares at her, not hiding the fact that she was studying her features, just taking in the sight before her. "and that you're enjoying every single second of it. what do you have to say for that?"

[f0olsgld]

𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 ! LOCATION: the jersey devil, 11 pm or so @helltownhqstarters

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 world was unfolding around her, maia couldn't help but find herself possessing little trust for the news outlets on the television. with helltown, there was always more to the story. call it cynical, call it protective distrust -- but the woman knew most in helltown could certainly agree with the sentiment. unable to attend the bonfire due to a lack of childcare and a general sense of disinterest for most social situations ( despite enduring a rather front facing job ), the events that followed had left her with so many questions. and so, while her daughter spent the evening at her aunts -- maia found herself spending her time searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle.

" so like.. are you just as confused as i am about what the hell is happening in this town? do they put something in the drinking water? " the woman mutters, bringing the bottle of beer she's been nursing to her lips. fuck. she had relocated her and isabel here because she thought they'd be safe. so her daughter could be a kid, without the constant need to look over her shoulder. how could she have been so wrong? while maia ordinarily appears calm, the gentle resting face she wears becomes one engulfed by fear. " i donno... there's just nothing i hate more than needing to constantly watch my back. "

[f0olsgld]

Don’t know who this quote is by but it’s been stuck in my brain like a leech for days

[f0olsgld]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓 of her age -- but wandering through the ghost town of the helltown mall left maia with the expectation that she would see tumbleweeds floating past her before disappearing in her wake. another relic for the ages, lost between the grains amongst the sand of this lifetime. even so, she also found some amount of peace in being alone. then of course, there came the time when she genuinely needed something only the mall could provide. there were times when maia couldn't help but wonder what once was -- if there had ever been a time when the mall or helltown itself ever held some bustle. then again, that wasn't likely.

" to be fair, i don't see many people in this town.. ever. " maia can't help but laugh before she took an elongated sip of the soda between her fingers. it was perhaps what had drawn her here, a new yorker looking for a place to settle. she missed the movement of the city, but it seemed that her daughter was meant to be here. " she said you smell nice, eh? think she was hitting on you? "

LOCATION: Helltown Mall STATUS: Open ( @helltownhqstarters )

Asa stands like a corpse reanimated just slightly wrong - a tattooed man in an oversized collared shirt with eyes as dark as brackish water. Some fictional scientist's necromantic mistake that fits in just a bit too well in Helltown, Ohio. Despite the Irish lilt to his voice, the eyes that jitter as if he's waiting for someone to tell him he doesn't belong here, what's he doing here, he shouldn't BE here... he is here. In the skeleton of an old mall. And somehow, it feels like home.

The food court is empty, but there's tables, and he's decided to sit for a moment. "How many people d'you think actually... come in here in a typical day? Think you an' I are the only ones I've seen. Well, besides that Nepalese shop's lovely cashier who said I smelled nice."

[f0olsgld]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 vivian hated more than the consistency of people. she had stood on her guard for so long, ready to open fire in the direction of anyone who had the slightest possibility of being a threat. some may belittle her for such blind vigilance -- but she believe she had earned it after the lifetimes ( plural intended ) that she had managed to live. this lack of permanence had managed to shroud not just her platonic life, but her romantic one too. very few women had managed to become familiar with vivian's home -- her mattress, withered with age. doesn't matter too much when there are other things to focus on, now does it? however, diwata vasquez had somehow managed to become not just an, but the only exception. not that vivian would ever tell her that -- she couldn't have them thinking they were special.

no feelings, right? vivian has asked herself the same question time and time again as she watches the other work her magic, bat her eyelashes -- flip the raven tresses vivian has memorized nearly every inch of over their shoulder. but then she finds her gaze moving down to the palm of her hand, the calloused skin presenting her with fresh marks from her nails. perhaps the worst part was simply this: she had never even felt it.

vivian nearly turns to leave -- praying she hasn't been seen. but god fucking damn it, of course she was. even if some might not anticipate it coming from her, but vivian had some shred of class. it wasn't that vivian wanted to run, no, she had to if she was going to stay sane. because if diwata had the gaul to look as beautiful as she did -- if she was whispering the same promises she had once offered to vivian to some... some nobody, she just might lose her grip. " funny.. seems like most'a our interactions are a helluva lot later than this. " the lightest remnant of a smirk graces the brunette's features as she accepts the seat, hands wedged deep within the pockets of her levis. " i'm startin' to think you like spendin' time with me, vasquez. "

LOCATION: atlas tap house FOR: everyone @helltownhqstarters

it was a thursday night, diwata knew they've got things to take care of tomorrow but they aren't needed until the early evening. so she was by the bar, nursing her....third? fourth? mug of bavarian lager. she would do the drinking at home but she couldn't stand how quiet it gets sometimes, given she had been living by herself for the past couple of years now. she downs the rest of her drink and gestures the bartender for another when a familiar someone from distance catching their attention. “are you just gonna stand there for the whole time or are you going to join me?" diwata says without looking up, as she takes a sip of her drink.

[f0olsgld]

my name is [ VIVIAN BLOOM ] … and i am from [ HELLTOWN, OHIO ] and i’m a [ FRONT DESK AT THE HELLHOUND MOTEL ]. i lived in helltown for [ THIRTY-ONE YEARS ] because [ SHE WAS BORN HERE ]. i am [ THIRTY-ONE ] my pronouns are [ SHE/HER ] and i am [ RESOURCEFUL, ADVENTUROUS, RESILIENT ] though some may say i’m [ AGGRESSIVE, SHORT-TEMPERED, DESTRUCTIVE ]. i also hear i look a lot like [ PHOEBE TONKIN ] but, i don’t know if i see it. i’m here because [ SHE CAN’T BRING HERSELF TO LEAVE FOLLOWING HER MOTHER’S DEATH ] but, maybe there’s more to it than that. you never know with helltown.

TRIGGER WARNING: homophobia (internalized and outward), religious trauma, physical + emotional abuse, prison, alcoholism, child abandonment, cancer, grief, implied ptsd.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

name: vivian elizabeth bloom nicknames/alias: viv ( by most ), vivi ( by close friends only )

faceclaim: phoebe tonkin

age: thirty-one gender: cisfemale sexuality: homosexual date/place of birth: september 3rd / helltown, ohio currently: helltown, ohio

positive traits: resourceful, adventurious, resilient, persistent, thick-skinned negative traits: aggressive, short-tempered, destructive, impulsive astrological sign: virgo archetype: the fallen angel

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.

you never blamed your mother for the way you grew up, as much as the few friends you've hung onto insisted that you should. your mother, janelle, brought you into the world believing she wouldn't be alone in your upbringing -- but she couldn't have been more wrong. did she hate you for it, the loneliness that engulfed her as she watched your father peel off in the direction of his new life? perhaps she did for a time, but she was sensible enough to know better. setting her grievances aside, she packed you up and the few belongings you had and left georgia in your dust. just you and her.

you would drive for what feels like a lifetime, not that you would ever be able to remember it. it was before you could ever register the concept of forming memories. you weren't even in the world yet when your mother stepped foot in this town, and when you finally got to know it -- it didn't take very long to know you were a goner.

it wasn’t your mother’s fault that she was raised steeped in southern tradition like a tea bag submerged in piping hot water — but it was her fault that she made no effort to understand the world outside of her own. thus, you inherited these ideals in your early years. mother knows best, right? hell seemed like such a scary place. you were too good to be damned there. and so, you followed the path. straight-laced as can be, your hairbows imprisoning the locks of hair meant to be free.

trailer park life was never something you protested against -- it was a home, and it was yours. that is, until the intruder arrived. you had gotten used to the sea of boys that came through your home ( notice how you never called them men ), but you never quite understood why this one stuck. even by the age of ten, you were repulsed by the cigarettes he went through like candy, and the bottle of alcohol that normally decorated the house like one might adorn the mantle. perhaps your mother was desperate for love, but there was better out there. perhaps, just maybe, she didn't believe she deserved it.

you did well in school despite, not like your mother cared. she had once, that is -- until she got the chance to play house with a man who had no control over his anger. you bore witness to it aimed against your mother before it was turned to you. you were fourteen when he got violent with you for the very first time, but he had been uttering malicious manipulation under his breath from the moment you met him. it was perhaps the greatest gift you could have been given when he was arrested shortly before you turned sixteen. running from charges, those were the words you overheard. you were too busy picking up what was left of your mother to truly understand.

you don't remember much of your early twenties, besides the fact that you never went to college. maybe you could have, made something of yourself. you certainly weren't without the intelligence, contrary to what some might believe: that girl, trailer trash by blood, the valedictorian? believe it, assholes. where you went without, however, was the finances. and so, you stayed bound to the land that had all but tightened its grip around your throat: it owns you now. from waiting tables at the local diner to bartending -- you engage in odd jobs that are just enough to help pay both your bills and assist with your mother's, but leaving little room for anything else.

that is, until the universe decided that you hadn't already been through enough.

your mother's cancer diagnosis is discovered later than it should have been -- it's stage four, to be exact. since you had left the trailer for the outside world, you had come to learn more about all she had shielded you from, all you had been ignorant to. you had become distant from her so you could find yourself, including making some attempt to come to terms with your own queerness. however, her diagnosis caused you to find yourself hurtling back into her life. maybe is a sense of guilt, obligation -- there was a time, after all, when she actually made some amount of effort to take care of you.

her eventual passing leaves you with more questions than answers and mounds of unpaid medical bills -- as well as a deeper fear of leaving the confines of helltown. you begin working at the motel at the front desk -- finally able to find a sense of stability. it only took thirty years.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

vivian initially identified as bisexual, hoping that maybe, just maybe -- she could find herself falling in love with a man to make her mother happy. after her mother's passing, however, vivian has begun to come to terms with the fact that she is indeed gay. even before her death, janelle never knew that her daughter liked girls.

has a rather simple outfit uniform of a solid t-shirt, worn in jeans, converse and a leather jacket ( weather permitting ). however, where she differentiates each outfits is in her jewelry. vivian wears a ring on nearly every finger as well as armfuls of bangles and at least two necklaces at a time.

appears rather gruff and antagonistic to most people -- but this is a defense mechanism. she deeply fears letting people too close like her mother did, allowing herself to get hurt again.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

sheet will be linked here.

[f0olsgld]

my name is [ MAIA GREENE ] … and i am from [ BROOKLYN, NEW YORK ] and i’m a [ BARTENDER AT THE HELLCAT’S DEN ]. i lived in helltown for [ TWO YEARS ] because [ SHE WANTED TO START A NEW LIFE FOR HER AND HER DAUGHTER ]. i am [ TWENTY-EIGHT ] my pronouns are [ SHE/HER ] and i am [ INDEPENDENT, SELFLESS, COMPASSIONATE ] though some may say i’m [ GUARDED, SECRETIVE, NERVOUS ]. i also hear i look a lot like [ HAYLEY LAW ] but, i don’t know if i see it. i’m here because [ HER DAUGHTER HAS ESTABLISHED ROOTS HERE ] but, maybe there’s more to it than that. you never know with helltown.

TRIGGER WARNING: spousal loss, car accident, grief, pregnancy, infedelity.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

name: maia olivia greene nicknames/alias: none, but not against them

faceclaim: hayley law

age: twenty-eight gender: cisfemale sexuality: she/her date/place of birth: february 13th / brooklyn, nyc currently: helltown, ohio

positive traits: independent, selfless, compassionate, hard-working, genuine negative traits: guarded, secretive, nervous, jaded, overprotective astrological sign: aquarius archetype: the pheonix

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.

you grew up rather modestly, but there was always food on the table for you, your brother and your sister. luxuries were rare and you learned very quickly that there was never a need to ask for them. there were other ways you kept yourself happy. you consider yourself lucky to grow up amongst the hustle and bustle of new york -- there was inspiration all around you. picking up a guitar for the very first time felt like finding a new limb, and it didn't take long for you to begin to put pen to paper. it's here where your songbook becomes your safe place, where you process all that has happened to you and where you find your guide into adolescence.

even still, you were raised to be a realist. all the while, you couldn't help but develop a human, childlike sense of hopeless romanticism. there was some goodness to this thing called living, wasn't there? call it harboring the soul of a creative, an artist's heart. the romantic in you began to crack, however, when it was uncovered that your mother had been having an affair with a woman at her workplace. she tried to explain it to you, they were in love, that she stayed for you -- but you would never get over this betrayal and the hurt she caused your dad. you choose not to have a relationship with her moving forward and decide to stay with your dad on the days your siblings go to visit her, cementing themselves in her new life.

in high school, the romantic in you finds a soul to nurture it again in the body of tristan price. your feelings for him come completely out of left field, far from a love at first sight story, but what unfolds is an epic one. you stay together all throughout high school -- even going as far to live by your wits in a shoebox apartment by the time you turn nineteen. your father has made it clear that the door of his home is always open to you, but you're excited to start your life. that, that he can understand; he was young once too.

an expensive music degree from new york university eventually finds its way into your hands, and you begin teaching music to kids in the area to get by. the ring came shortly after you turn twenty-one, the union becoming binding days before your twenty-second birthday. just as you were raised, you never wanted very much -- a destination wedding was never in your sights. you were in love, damn it. you didn't have the patience to wait, to plan. you just wanted to be his wife. you didn't expect to be staring at two little lines, but the world felt brighter the moment you were. a baby. your family was growing -- your family was secure.

isabel renee price was born nine months later ( two weeks premature, but healthy as can be ) to two devoted parents. you never promised her everything, but you were damn sure the two of you would fight to give it to her.

perhaps the realist in you should have been prepared for what came next, but you were never supposed to see this coming. tragedy picks and chooses, it seems. tristan was walking home from work when he was hit by a drunk driver, killing him on impact. you were alone in this world -- at least that was what you believed. you were a widow before the age of twenty-five, the shell of the romantic tristan had made you. moving home with your father is certainly the best option for a time and he loves having you and isabel home, but even he can see the restlessness in your eyes.

helltown. you had someone out there -- you wouldn't have relocated out west if you didn't. tristan's sibling had made a life for themselves out there. it was far enough away to give the pair a fresh start, but at least you wouldn't be alone. your daughter quickly makes friends in the local school system, of course she does. she is now five and thriving, and you can't help but ask yourself where the time went. and, of course, why the universe didn't want tristan to stand beside your side to watch it all pass.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

since moving to helltown, maia has done little to put herself out there again in terms of dating. not that she hasn't questioned it -- knowing deep down that tristan would want her to be happy again, she's been terrified of leaving herself venerable to losing someone again.

the hellcat has become her family, in a way. while maia may seem quiet when not directly involved with a customer, she cares about her coworkers and is extremely grateful to them for giving her the room to get out of her shell.

clothing influences definitely come from 90's grunge icons, giving off a vibe that she is much more rough around the edges than she actually is. she's tough and has been through a lot, but maia is certainly a sensitive soul.

MORE TO COME.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

sheet will be linked here.

[f0olsgld]

𝐅𝟎𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐆𝐋𝐃 — a multimuse blog for helltownohiohq. ♡

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐄. TWENTY-EIGHT. BARTENDER AT THE HELLCAT’S DEN. TERRIFIED MUSICIAN. MOTHER. HAYLEY LAW.

𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌. THIRTY-ONE. FRONT DESK AT THE HELLTOWN MOTEL. LIFELONG RESIDENT WHO CAN’T GET AWAY. BAR REGULAR. PHOEBE TONKIN.

[f0olsgld]

Hayley Law photographed by Shane McCauley for The Laterals (2018)

[f0olsgld]

PHOEBE TONKIN Rolla’s Jeans (August 2022)

[f0olsgld]

tag dump . . . 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐄 !

[f0olsgld]

tag dump . . . 𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌 !