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joseph:

there’s something entertaining in filling empty space with words. some prefer it, others don’t, and that’s all there is to it. it doesn’t need to go any deeper than that, he knows, but it’s an entirely possible method of judging a man’s character in the way he might hold a conversation. and minnie doesn’t hold it. she places her thoughts down, here and there, but doesn’t contribute much unless she supposes she needs to.

he’s never quite seen anything like it, not really. someone so young, holding their tongue like that? being aware of the necessity in it? he can’t fathom having been even remotely similar in his youth. in his early days he’d been too brash, all pride, all tongue and spit and vigor and no power behind any of it. that power had come from clawing to the top, hoping ferociously for some sort of future at the end of things.

and he’d found himself a future, at the cost of his own flesh and blood. unfortunate. he wonders, idly, if minnie had ever thought she might have to sacrifice her own flesh, her own blood, her own family. her father’s a reputable man, and they don’t discuss him much, but joseph does intend on robbing the poor fool blind. the rich are ultimately all the same, and then they end up dead and buried with everyone else.

he smiles, watches the low fire crackle and pop. it’s not providing much heat from this distance, but the warmth, or the slightest hint of it, is nice. “we could get you another one, eventually, when we get the money.” there’s the implied soon. “ain’t too much. might even ask mami — she might consider makin’ you one, if you ply her with something nice.”

“no, no,” she waves away. “it’s really not important. use it on somethin’ else, yeah?” the baby could get a quiet toy, or they could get some better coffee for everyone else. a bonnet was pointless to try and replace if there was nothing sentimental about it; frilly and lacy were only cute when she lived on the ranch. they weren’t something she could see herself wearing now, and imagining how dirty it could get wasn’t exactly what the young woman wanted to think about.  maybe she could get that gun she’d been looking at in the battered catalogue she had found a couple of months ago? 

maybe it would prove her worth a little more than helping out on a mission to steal from her father. as though she had actually had a say in the situation, minnie chose not to protest (or to say much of anything). she had just nodded her head, knowing full and well that saying anything against it would look more idiotic and naive than she already showed herself to be sometimes. and what did she know compared to joseph?

her eyes follow a cracked ember, which fizzles and dies outside of the realm of heat. that little guy didn’t really have a chance to begin with thanks to the cold weather, anyways. as she takes one of the final sips of the coffee, her eyes flicker over to the older man for just the briefest of seconds. minnie’s not really scared of meeting his eye, she’s just distant. he’s a smart man and she’s scared that if he looks at her too long, he’ll see all the parts of her she wants to hide from him. it’s like a trick of his, minnie thinks; he’ll figure you out whether you like it or not -- and she’d preferred to pretend like she had a semblance of herself in private. 

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noa·:

“thank you.” noa replied, grateful for the kindness, but curious if it was offered only out of sympathy to her situation. it seemed most of the camp were unable to sleep soundly without a belly full of liquor and she lacked the luxury of overindulging in the drink.

“no, i already cut my teeth on outlawin’ ‘fore i ever came across these folks.” noa shot her a crooked grin as she smoothed her dark waves back into a more manageable braid–teasing the ends gently with nimble fingers in hopes of keeping it somewhat in place. “no, i insist.” there was no way she would be accused of loafing by her campmates. there were some days where noa would happily stay in bed all day, but she would not suffer a rumor to be spread that she was taking advantage of the best among thieves. “i meant to stretch my legs anyhow.”

minnie wasn’t going to fight her. the gesture was still extended towards the mother, but having someone to accompany her wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. so, she offered a small “alright” with a small shrug before turning head and heading towards the edges of the wood. 

“how is she doing, other than the teethin’?” minnie felt like she had to ask. it was only common place -- something good ole’ father dearest had taught her before she really understood common place decency. (the only way a good business man got himself ahead in the world, ya see.) “and you -- you doing good?”

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mami·:

most everyone here was good. she only believes that, because leo is still around, so clearly not everyone in camp is good. minnie, however, was one of those who were so good. possibly too good. the kind of good that mami wants to find a better place for. bloodshed, revenge, and a sort of rotten bitterness that never leaves the soul, is not the place for a girl with eyes that shine as bright as minnie’s. but she’s here to stay. mami knows full well the girl’s not going anywhere else, and rather than try to push her away, she’ll help ease the pain. the last thing she wants is to see her harder over to a crooked, broken outlaw like so many of them are. she deserves better.

she helped earlier this morning. mami really did appreciate the help that minnie provided. there were always so many tasks to be done and she never felt she got close enough to doing all of them properly. it’s her job to make this feel as much like home as possible, and every time she falls short, she feels like she’s not doing her family justice. as much as they were despicable criminals, they were her criminals. she knows minnie feels a similar adoration, which only makes their working relationship that much stronger. minnie seems to understand her rhythm; how not to step on her toes, how to listen, quick to understand. she’s good. she knows why she’s kept around.

“you’re obedient, i like that.” she returns the smile easily and sets her knife down. gesturing for minnie to sit beside her, she keeps her bloodied hands to herself, but moves the rabbits to be more visible. “you ever done this before?” she asks simply, beginning to point at different parts of the animal. “they’re small furs but they’re good for different things. you can stitch ‘em together to make bigger things as well. never let anything go to waste. it’s stupid, and disrespectful.” her tone might come off harsh, but it’s understood it’s never a means of attacking, just her bold tone as she explains her tasks. she takes them seriously, others should as well.

minnie’s hands, clean in a literal sense only, were quick to swoop up one of the rabbits. “right,” she nods along -- giving her verbal acknowledgment of the task at hand. it takes a little more time of careful observation before she tries to follow one of mami’s actions in the act of skinning. there’s quiet and concise concentration from the younger, who does her best to keep her heart beat from getting to quick. 

letting mami down wasn’t something that minnie actively feared. (that was reserved for run-ins with familiar faces that knew her father or the possibility of ruining a job at hand and jeopardizing the hounds position.) however, the chance she might mess up the skinning and waste perfectly good recourses? she didn’t want to think about it, so she chose to keep her hands still and her eyes on the animal. they occasionally switched over to watch mami’s job -- just checking to make sure she was still doing it correctly. 

this wasn’t exactly one of minnie’s strong suits, yet she continued to try. she was eager to learn something else, always. if there was a skill she hadn’t mastered yet -- then there was no point in sitting around and waiting for someone else to do it. (what about the days to come when she’d be on her own?) minnie had come to a crossroads, and for as quiet as she’d been, she finally peered back to the elder and held up her work. it was an ameutuer’s compared to mami’s...but it sufficed? “how bad is it?”

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mami‌:

ain’t no rest for the wicked. mami, especially feels that that applies. says that the hounds get their sleep for her. gets up before the sun rises and stays up long after it sets. things are expected to be there when people begin to rise and she knows that the rain isn’t help. had to put on multiple pelts just to keep herself reasonably dry. getting sick wasn’t an option. she’s certain lives will fall apart if she’s bed ridden just for the day.

getting the campfires set while rain trickled down was a feat in itself. she worked the wood for what felt like hours but she was thankful to have dry logs and kindling aside to make the process a hell of a lot easier. breakfast came and went and mami sat in her layers upon layer of fur, eyes closed with her coffee in hand. all anyone got were grunts from her after the daunting task of making the fire, preparing breakfast, and setting aside clothes she’d previously washed. she wasn’t here for chat. the pelts were cozy. didn’t matter if it… looks a bit much.

breakfast left and she cleaned, then it was time to prepare everything else. thankful for yesterday’s catch, she was hunched over her bucket, skinning the rabbits the snares had caught. she looked up for a moment to see fingers reaching out to the venison. “touch the damn thing and i’ll skin you next.” she’d taken them from her text to dry out in the open, and they were close to being done, hence the grabby fingers. “you’re going to wait until supper, you hear?” she points the knife at them. “or no supper at all.”

when the sun greeted a tired minnie, she didn’t greet it in return. instead, she grumbled out of her tent with as much energy as she could muster and headed right for something to do. her dad had always said that moving around was the only way to keep warm (as though he knew what real work was). a quiet “morning” was passed along to mami, nothing more than an acknowledgment really. that came when she returned a little while later with what she could scavenge in the woods. which wasn’t a lot, considering the cold. (the few rose hip berries she did find were iced over and in need of a little melting. but what couldn’t a little heat fix?) a silent recognition, but one all the same, minnie had dropped the berries off with a timid smile before heading away.

as the morning passed in a slow crawl and minnie started to feel herself going mad for only the third time that day, she found herself close to mami and whatever she was doing. it wasn’t uncommon to do so, and minnie knew she should be doing something else. but it wasn’t hard to gravitate away from those things if she could learn something new instead. "have you ever known me to take something before you say so?” minnie questioned with a cheeky grin.

the younger clutched her hands together; she tried to find a little warmth in the action. prospects of winter ending soon sounded like a work of fiction as the cold continued on, but there had to be a little hope. otherwise, what was minnie doing here? “do you need any help?” she asked. her hands ached for something to do, just to give her a reason to be moving -- to be keeping a little warmer. she needed to rephrase the question. “do you want any help?”

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joseph:

“think i left my mask in one of the cabins — think maybe we lost plenty up there.”

it’s a sudden comment, finally breaking the morning silence just like the light over the ridge. it’s a sad realization, he thinks, because he’d had the damn thing for years on end. his small cup of coffee is still steaming, and he’s got a lit cigarette in the other hand, legs kicked out in front of him. he looks about as leisurely as a man can possibly get — if not more. there winter chill has followed them down from the tiber mountains, and for that he’s wrapped in a coat.

“y’know, the yellow one. got it from that gal all the way back in… must’a been lincoln. couldn’t have been anywhere else. you might not remember her.” it’s become a natural sort of habit to wake and talk over the years, as he finds he’s not a man who particularly enjoys silence, and most members of the camp will awaken at the start of each day to the quiet murmurings of their leader over a cup of coffee and a cigarette. the past month had been the exception, on account of it being too cold to speak more than needed.

perhaps it’s a sign of their life finally shifting back into something normal. at this point, he’d take normal over most anything else. he moves his head from the smattering of trees surrounding them, looks at his conversation partner with a suddenly studious gaze. it’s a little too scrutinizing this early in the day. he takes a long pull from his cup before he speaks, idly enjoys the way the hot cup warms his fingers without thought of burning. “didn’t lose anything important, did you?”

the restless soul she was, minnie had been up before the sun greeted the horizon line. the embers of a fire were just beginning to peter out when she got to them, giving herself a silent sigh and going to search for whatever remains of coffee grounds there were. she figured she could probably get away with running some water over the settlings again. (sooner or later, they’d have to find more. there was a good chance of a riot if the coffee disappeared.) but, it was something to worry about later -- once she’d woken up more. 

jospeh liked to talk. she’d learned it early on when everything had been so new and fresh, but quickly turned into one of the few things she consider routine. she’d reply when he ask. only when she had to fill in the gaps. she’d figured out it’s too early to really keep her brain ahead of her mouth, and the fear of something slipping out that’d cover her in embarrassment before she could stop herself managed to keep her pretty quiet.

the sting of the memory hit her with his question; she could almost see the small piece of cloth blowing away in front of her -- the pale ribbon flittering with the winter winds as it caught a gust and moved farther away from her. kind of like the memory accompanied it. she would have laughed when it happened, as though god had some sort of joke he was playing on her. first, he takes her away -- and then he takes away what minnie has left of her?

“not that i can’t replace,” she replied evenly, choosing to take a sip of her morning cup. god, how did people enjoy this? a violate necessity to wake herself up, minnie practically choked down the bitterness every morning. in moments of (supposed) bliss, she was doing her best to seem even with everyone else -- as though the cup in her hand allowed her a badge of maturity. her face did it’s best not to crinkle when she swallowed. “it’s just an old bonnet. don’t even think i really need to replace it.” as though she could. 

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noa·:

“perdóname–sorry–if she woke you.” noa apologized as she heard the crunch of brush beneath boots. angelita had dragged her mother from a sound sleep–such a rarity–with the strong cry of a teething toddler ( she had six now and was working on her seventh ).  most of the camp was forgiving when it came to her cries, but noa knew it wasn’t something anyone in the hounds had signed up for. it had taken awhile to lull her back to sleep, but the damage was done and noa was up for the day and stoking the fire when the other ‘hound approached.

“she’s cuttin’ another tooth, but i’ve put her back down for the morning. should be another couple hours before she decides if she’s hungry or feelin’ a need to scream through the pain.” there was cooking that could be done and she was always hungry first thing in the morning. it felt selfish to put her own hunger over the others’ but half of angelita’s diet was breast milk and noa had to be well fed enough to produce. “you feel like helpin’ me with gatherin’ more firewood for breakfast? i’ve got a mighty pit in my stomach that could swallow a horse.”

“oh, she’s alright.” minnie rubbed the remained of the sandman’s gifts from her eyes as she plopped down and stretched her legs out. in truth, the kid was hardly to blame for her short slumbers. no, she got to call her lack of sleep “natural”; it allowed minnie to claim the title of an early riser. even if it was the kid -- the young woman couldn’t bring herself to blame the child ever -- it hadn’t signed up for this. 

“how’s the mom? you’re not cuttin’ any teeth, are ya?” a feeble attempt at a joke, not even minnie laughed. a small smile, maybe. “and i’ll take care of it,” she waved away the concept of noa doing anything but sitting down and taking care of her little one. “you just stay here, yeah?” it wasn’t as though someone was gonna come and get her this early in the morning -- so she figured she was safe. “i’ll be right back.”

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belias, verrith

do you gossip?

the young woman cast her eyes down towards the dirt beneath her. “i feel like the ones who’ve been gossiped about – they tend not to follow in other’s footsteps.” if the past was a box of dynamite, then minnie made sure it was always far off in the distance. never quite sure what could set the thing off, she figured the lack of thought was her best option. nevertheless, whispers worked their way into her mind – old flames that she thought she’d blown out long ago. “or they try not to to.”

are you a patient or impatient person?

“is anyone really that patient?” to some extent, she hoped she would be. but the shaking leg in the moments before a job or the itch to leave for something new showcased her true alliances. “everyone wants something. patience is just how little you care to get that thing.”

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"ask me about my demons"

tinylittlegirlinside‌:

tiltedswinton‌:

lilith: what was your biggest rebellion against authority? why did you do it? raum: do you have a tendency to hoard anything? if so, what? jezebel: talk about a time you used your sexuality to get your way mephistopheles: have you ever helped  a loved one destroy themselves? verrier: do you find yourself disobeying or obeying most authority? asmodeus: on whom do you want revenge and how would you take it? baal: if you were a god, how would you prefer to be worshipped? lamia: how do you feel about children? lucifer: what are you most proud of? sonneillon: do you hate anyone? batibat: talk about the worst nightmare you have ever had abaddon: what person, place, or thing have you most wanted to destroy? belias: do you gossip? abraxas: do you believe in any higher power? if so, what? ornias: talk about a time where you felt drained of energy lix tetrax: if you could travel by wind, where would you go? astaroth: have you ever falsely accused someone? carreau: do you consider yourself compassionate or harsh to others? why? leviathan: what do you believe lies in the unexplored areas of the ocean? belphigor: if you could pick 3 forms to shapeshift into, what would they be? azazel: talk about a time when you were falsely blamed for something mammon: when were you most greedy? for what? verrith: are you a patient or impatient person? pythius: out of all the lies you have ever told, which is your favorite? berith: do you often argue with others?

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hello there -- !

alias: maddie

pronouns: she / her

what do you dig about the western vibe? okay, so, the history of it???? and the pride people take in it -- so long as it’s not the racist way. like, my best friend’s grandma lives in oklahoma, and is like 1/8th cherokee. and this grandma has a whole room devoted to the heritage in their house?! also, that vintage look and sound of music is so lovely and being from a tourist town where that’s celebrated all the time means that it’s kind of ingrained in me to like those things. also, i just love cowboys and history. so, everything’s cool! 

what’s your favorite color? yellow. oh my god, yellow. when i was in high school, we did this production of the addams family musical, and my best friend played alice. and her line is “yellow is the color of happiness and fun,” and we say it all the freaking time. so, while the color itself is so pretty -- it’s come out of adoration. (i can’t believe i just wrote that much on a color.)

what are some songs you’ve been loving lately? hAH. so, i have this knack for getting into really famous bands too late. it’s the beatles right now. i’m twenty and i’m just now going through a beatles phase??? like, there was a mini blip in 7th grade, but this is a magnum opus of adoration. somehow, though, i’ve always loved george harrison? like i knew “oh, he’s a beatle” but would listen to his solo music without question. i also am really loving first aid kit right now, and the glenn miller orchestra? writing a book set in the 40′s means it’s like all i can listen to to concentrate. 

what meme do you think you use most frequently? i just quote a lot of gabriel gundacker things.....ALL THE TIME. half the time, they don’t make sense in situations. i’ll say “zendaya is meechee” like twice a day. 

what characters do you usually like to write, and why? having a pretty boring life has lead me to writing as diversely as i can....but i tend to write female characters. like, my current book is about a war correspondent in the pacific?? but the last one was about a small southern town and the anti-christ??? so, it all changes. role play wise, i don’t have much to base this answer off of. 

anything else? so, uhm, i’ve never really done a skeleton rp before (that lasted longer than like a week)?? i’m watching this and trying to learn as quietly as i can. so, if it takes me a second to do something new, i’m very sorry. i learn from watching others and googling a lot. i’m really always open for anything. i just want other people to be happy, and am immensely a people pleaser. there’s a good chance that when you read this, whenever that might be, i’m probably giggling somewhere. for no reason. i giggle and laugh a LOT.

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