#like??? it never ceases to astonish me that people pay attention and give a shit about dolasach

[rsmrymnt-tea]

「 🐳 」 ohh and what a glorious revelation it must be to realize that your newly gained blue whale anon has decided to reach out to you after silently gazing at your posts for the past few months like a stray, black cat curiously watching you do your silly little daily tasks from your wooden fence, and deciding to finally interact not because it was nervous, but because it thought that the time was finally right for it to show you that it can speak and hope that you find meaning in its words in the midst of all that is hopeless ♡ /lh

yes—i did include gw2 ost!! i noticed that you were always going on about it beginning from a few months ago, and thus i decided to listen to all 9+ hours of it on spotify and delicately put aside my favorites to revisit for later playlists. making playlists for people's ocs, as i've said, is something i heavily enjoy doing!

the contents of the playlist came to me naturally considering how i had specific thoughts about dolasach in mind; there wasn't too much of a struggle as a result. to me, creating content, both literature and art-wise, for others doesn't take much of my energy because i genuinely wish to express that inspiration to others in hopes that they get to create more self-serving content. the description of dola's playlist in particular comes from something i wrote,

“you killed yourself and a garden grew. you looked into the mirror, watched it crack with lightning and felt fury at existence, stifling and electric. you drowned in a pit of tar thick hatred, let it line your tongue and pool beneath your eyes because at least this way you’d be preserved. you dug the grave with your halo, all light and holy diving into the dark, and planted the seeds of solitude ready to bloom into a headstone. abandoned were the zinnias, the poppies, the hope and the love. instead you turned back to camellias and roses, classics revived in a cemetery. the garden was cold. you didn’t know death could grow, but here you are.”

dolasach “died”, and from what i remember, would eventually come back to visit her own grave with what i would imagine to be contempt. to who or what it would be directed towards, i wouldn't know, but would it be so far off to say that it would be towards herself, someone lacking of a great deal of self-compassion and seeks connection as a supplement as she works through her own issues? this thought in mind reminds me a lot of belphegor—

sloth is associated with a variety of complex emotions (more than laziness & apathy), and it all boils down to depression. no love for yourself, others, and all that's left to manifest is anger towards everything because you cannot feel anything else. you desperately try to cling onto something, and that something is self-pity; when you're so disconnected, you can only feel rage (and i think it's a reason why satan & belphegor get along with the exception of their shared interests). i'm not saying that dolasach particularly fits in like a glass slipper with this concept, but i am reminded of her.

like the wildflowers that intimately wrap around her body, she seems to grow in many directions regardless of whether they will aid or hinder her in her journey and i believe that it's genius of you to include so much metaphorical death within her story when she has heavy implications of being in love with flowers (or was that a simple aesthetic choice, i wonder?)

she is full of exhaustion, but there seems to be a yearning to capture the resilience of the wildflowers she so seems to love very much. she isn't delicate by no means, but it's so painfully obvious that she wishes to love in spite of how she looks at herself and can't help but look past her shell and struggle to find something beautiful.

that is what i thought when making her instrumentals-only playlist ^^

i would've included elden ring ost for dolasach, but unfortunately, it isn't on spotify :( but even so, the unravel ost fit perfectly for her ... because i remember those series of posts from a few months ago when you were discussing dola's irish origins with someone, and how you wished to do research for her regarding those origins! the ost in of itself resembles celtic music, despite it being scandinavian in nature.

the dola art i saw was simply none other than your pfp ^^ i was curious as to who it was, so i dug through your account to see if there was a reference sheet for a mc! and there's no shame in tailoring an oc for a canon character if it brings you joy~ it's a lot fun to brainstorm when it comes down to that! especially since you need to seriously analyze the character, and then attempt to comfortably fit them in with your own mc without jeopardizing the story you wish to tell with them.

my adhd begs me to include this part for the description i wrote, but usually when i write descriptions of ocs like that, i always think of them being the innermost thoughts of my mc as her ceramics are being spun with a single flawed touch-- lack of delicacy or a tremor-- the red of the earth tainting the sweet ivory silk that billows with each flowing, curtain-esque movement, sealing fate.

and that is what makes my creations so easy to, well, create! my perspective is magnified from someone else (oc) who is humble and dignified, and yet, has a taste for looking too closely in the hopes of filling in the puzzle pieces to formulate a clearer picture, hoping that the person challenges her on an intellectual level. as for myself, i'm someone who scrutinizes with the intimidating aura of elizabeth bennet's (pride & prejudice) wit, and it often receives mixed reactions (much to both my amusement and my “ah, not again”'s). ^^;; my oc indirectly helps me become more likely to see through a (hopefully) unbiased lens, rather than a stubborn one full of judgement.

and uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu the yokai event alone was so mid tbh,, i don't know if you got the impression from what i said before, but i'd like to confirm that my sights were primarily set on what small, itty bitty pieces of information i could use for my own liking rather than genuinely enjoy the event itself </3 seriously so pissed at the devs for doing satan so dirty. i can't help but think it's out of spite for how the fandom pushed them to make satan like that back when obm first released...

OOF funny how when I threw this into my drafts, I had a bit of preamble on about how it took a while to get to this and now I've answered the newer asks before I got to this one because I forgot I even had this in the drafts >.>

First off--insane to me that you listened to all of it on Spotify? Like, without the game? I'm happy that my rambling about Guild Wars got you to listen to it though! I'm biased as fuck and think that it's got an amazing soundtrack, and personally think that the music started shining more once they stopped getting Jeremy Soule to do their music >.< Can't thank you enough for making the playlist really, because holy shit?

The media that a lot of the music you chose came from intrigues me as well. It's probably not that deep, but there's something about seeing Omori, Unravel, and The Beginner's Guide of all games there, aside from Guild Wars 2. I'm made extra curious about what Sky is now, since a lot of music came from there. There's something very fitting to me that Omori and The Beginner's Guide made it in the playlist.

Nonnie seriously, that playlist is the only thing keeping me tied to Spotify right now hgkjdgfh oh my goodness >.< Ever grateful, and really still so stunned that you went through the trouble. I know you said it comes fairly easy to you, but it doesn't diminish just how touched I am. My goodness >w<

Now... I'm not even sure how to approach everything you said about Dolasach because a lot of it really is striking food for thought--is this how authors feel when their characters are analyzed by someone smarter than them? sjkghdfjgjdfgh

Tbh, the comparison to Belphie and her alignment with Sloth surprised me, because I've always seen Dolasach as someone who actively fought against it in as many forms you can think of. Like you said, she really tries to grow, sometimes not caring in which direction she goes. Contentment is something she wishes she could have, yet it's something she always fears and she knows it; it's part of why there are times she wishes she could just die, because death is probably the most rest she'll ever have. But she also refuses to give in to the urge, even more so after her death at Belphie's hands.

But early on, yes. In the years right before her first year in the Devildom, her life had grown painfully stagnant, and being away from the pressures of her blood family and fully with the freedom to contemplate what she herself really wanted for herself lead to the realization that she's lost and unable to move forward, and has no one she was willing to speak to regarding her troubles. She'd isolated herself without really trying, and the lack of any meaningful connection with anyone or anything to live for lead to her wanting to break routine and force herself to find reason to keep going.

I think she thinks that i's enough for her that others love her if she can't love herself. She doesn't truly understand why, but learns to accept it and thrive under the gentle warmth that her partners and her found family bring her. Despite how much trouble being in the Devildom has given her (including dying and watching herself die), the unexpected whisking away to an exchange program that someone else signed her up for ended up giving her a new lease on life by giving her some beings to love and be loved by, and new passions to explore in the form of magic and magical studies.

Tbh the flower motif stemmed largely from the fact that my Guild Wars 2 character that I got Dola's name from is in fact a literal plant person, and the constant link to death stems from that character being a necromancer >.> Which feels anti-climactic to admit but that's the honest answer. It's just lent itself well to combining into something thematically wonderful for Dolasach the human.

Dolasach the sylvari, the original and namesake >.< The entire person + the clothes and weapon are all plant matter. I have like, 8 other plant people who look something like this

It's honestly so interesting that your thought process is like that :0 You're already so thorough in your analyses, and the added layer that seeing someone from the perspective of someone who would be there, able to observe the character from a first person perspective definitely adds even more to it. It's so nuts to me that you can come to conclusions and hypotheses like that on your own (with the help of your mc) because most of my thoughts on other characters come from reading others' takes, comparing them to canon, then deciding for myself if I agree or not then making adjustments so that I like what I understand.

fdhkgjsdhfjgksdhg the yokai event really let me down, both paths were so... Meh? And truly, I hate that they did Satan so dirty. This may be one of the rare times that everyone's outfits are good, but I personally still greatly dislike what they did with him, even more so after looking into the actual lore of the nekomata. All the more I hate that they incorporated so many cutely elements to his outfit.

Like what's with the paw prints? What's with the bows, what's with the bells? There is something very unimpressive about his silhouette as well in comparison to his brothers. Each one felt like proper respects were given to the yokai that they were based on, and while I understand that the nekomata is commonly made cute, it would've been nice if they leaned in to the ferocity and ferality of it when it came to designing Satan's outfit. A malicious spirit that's also said to grow more in power as a nekomata the more cruelly it was treated in its life as a normal cat... It feeds and kills for fun, and can manipulate the dead.

Then we get Satan's outfit, and a card where he's doing that stupid nyaa post again :/ The unlocked card are is a bit better, but it doesn't remove the fact that I don't like his outfit as a whole lol And I'm also so fucking bitter about the card. I wouldn't have even known that their costumes were supposed to have special abilities if I hadn't seen others post about it... Literally every other card from the Nightmare and Quiz had its respective character mention their costume's powers. Don't get any mention from Satan, and Im still bitter about the lame date and weaker than mediocre romance. So glad the card came home in not that many pulls, I'd be even more upset if I used more than I did and got THAT as the Devilgram...

Anyway anyway the rant got away from me fjdgkdfjhgdfgh And the rest of this answer feels weirdly incohesive but idk how to fix it? Sorry for taking so long to answer this one dgkjdfjh I genuinely forgot that I hadn't answered it but just noticed that it felt like I answered less asks than I knew I had from you...

[empiricalwritings]

Don’t Eat the Monkey

Prompt

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, Wilford you do! It's your turn to take one of the Jims out for the day," Dark's voice was growing desperate after almost two hours of arguing with his boyfriend. There was a pause as Wil considered another argument to make. His mind was blank. Dark had won this battle, but Wil wasn't going into this alone.

"I'll go under one condition," Wil proposed.

"And what is that?"

"You, Darky Darling, come with me," Wil cooed with a massive grin crawling over his face as he delivered the ultimatum. As much as Dark wanted to object, he knew he really didn’t have much to say otherwise. So, Dark set his frustrations aside and gave in to Wil.

“Fine. But, we do something simple and quick.”

“The zoo! What a wonderful idea!” Wil’s eyes filled with excitement as the picture of animals, cotton candy, and Dark filled his thoughts.

“Very well. Go get one of the Jims, and let’s get going,” Dark conceded. Although he would never admit it, Dark actually enjoyed the zoo. The animals created a natural peace around him. The more he thought about it, he needed a relaxing break. He would have to assume responsibility for the Jim, but he usually was able to control them well enough, when he tried. Today, he thought, may actually be a delight.

Without Dark noticing, Wil left to find the Jims. This task was rather easy considering it was nearly impossible to go more than an hour without encountering at least one. There was always a guarantee of finding a Jim in their room. No one knew exactly how so many people could possibly share a single room, but no one was prepared to ask.

Before he could make it halfway to the room, Wil ran into a pair of Jims. They were usually in pairs like this, stealing Bings cloths, sneaking into Dr. Iplier’s office, and other mischief. This duo was in the middle of a game of “Who can stuff more nickels in their mouth” when they spotted the candy man approaching them.

“Spit those out, now! You could choke on them!” Wil reprimanded before he realized he should probably avoid scaring them off. He swiftly changed his tone before the Jims could scatter with their loose change still lodged in their mouths.

“Please, spit those out? I wouldn’t want you getting hurt,” Wil pleaded. The first Jim obeyed and opened his mouth, releasing an ungodly amount of coins. The other Jim was less complacent, and scooped up the saliva covered nickels and scrambled away.

“No! Wait! I-I…oh, never mind,” Wil sighed, turning to the remaining Jim.

“Would you like to go to the zoo with Dark and I?” Wil asked with overwhelming friendliness.

“The zoo?” the Jim inquired with little attention to Wil, “Like, with animals and birds?”

“Yes! It will be tons of fun!” Wil cheered, careful not to point out the fact that birds were animals.

“Okay, bubblegum man. Where’s the demon guy?” Jim absently asked again.

“Follow me, and we’ll find him.”

Wil knew exactly where Dark would be. He led Jim to the garage where Dark was quietly waiting in the car. Wil opened the back door to let the Jim into the backseat before crawling into the passenger seat. The ride was mostly silent except for the nonstop talking of Wil and Jim. Dark had gotten used to the pointless conversations Wil would have with all of the Jims. The topic of their discussions was often the most random things imaginable. The only time Dark payed any attention to their dialogue was when it was about himself or his relationships. He knew the Jims were not fond of him, yet they were unanimously devoted to Wil.

The ride was over before any subject of interest could arise. The zoo was mostly vacant, and that only made this outing seem more pleasant to Dark and, for the greater half of the day, it was. The entrance fee was fairly cheap, adding to Dark’s enjoyment.

“Let’s go see the tigers!” Wil squealed the moment he entered the park. Before Dark could organize a structure route on the map, Wil and Jim were dashing towards the loin exhibit. Without trying to inform the two that the lions were in the opposite direction, Dark sighed and followed behind.

Dark was busy admiring the penguins while Wil lifted Jim onto his shoulders to see the polar bears a few enclosures away. It was an odd sight, considering Jim was in no way like a small child. The sound of familiar static began to fill Dark’s ears as he continued to watch the aquatic birds.

“Taking time to go to the zoo now? I thought you didn’t have time for shit like that,” a painfully accustomed voice mocked behind Dark. Thousands of memories crammed into Dark’s head. He knew the voice all too well.

“I’m just taking a break with Wil. You know that,” Dark replied without turning to face to voice. He looked to see if Wil and Jim were close by. They had left the polar bears to visit the next group of animals and were well out of sight.

“you never came here with me. I didn’t even know you liked these kind of things,” the voice continued. Dark fought the urge to turn his head. He knew exactly who it was talking to him. It was Anti. He didn’t know whether to ignore him and find Wil or continue the conversation.

“Things have changed. You know that,” Dark continued against his better judgement as he strolled on to the next exhibit. “So why are you here?” he finally asked.

“To check on you, obviously. I wanted to see if being with that pink haired monster has broken you yet,” Anti whispered. Dark couldn’t tell if Anti was still behind him or not. With a deep breath, he spun around only to find nothing. The static in Dark’s ears had ceased, and now he had lost track of the two children.

After a few minutes of searching, Dark found Wil and Jim viewing the flamingos. They didn’t seem to perceive his absence when he rejoined them. Jim was laughing as he pointed to Wil’s mustache. He was undoubtedly pointing out the similar color the mustache had with the pink birds.

Once the trio finished exploring half of the zoo, they stopped to eat lunch. Dark hadn’t planned on staying this long, or he would have packed some kind of lunch for everyone. However, the zoo had several food stands to order from. Dark selected a picnic table while Wil and Jim got a meal. Wil returned carrying a massive bag of cotton candy, an ice cream cone, and a heavily fried corn dog. Jim simply had a hot dog and a soda.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much, Wil?” Dark queried as Wil set his collection on the table. Dark didn’t eat often; he didn’t need to. He rarely had the time to anyway.

“I can handle it, Darky. Don’t worry about me,” Wil retorted as he began to down the corn dog.

“You might as well eat on of the monkeys here with how much food you have,” Dark joked. Wil only rolled his eyes and moved on to his ice cream. The two enjoyed the lunch for a good half an hour. It was only when Dark was about to fall asleep on the grass that he detected that Jim had gone missing.

“Where could he have gone? He could be in danger!” Wil shouted in complete hysteria. He swiveled his head back and forth in an attempt to locate Jim. Dark was used to seeing Wil in a panic, but this was starting to concern him. It was just another Jim; there were plenty to go around.

“He’s bound to still be in the zoo. Now, you go back to the marine displays, and I’ll check the primate house,” Dark commanded with composure. Without responding, Wil darted out to the fish tanks. Dark, however, took his time to enjoy the zoo some more.

The underwater enclosures were a maze of fish and glass, and Wil’s reckless searching sent him in circles. He passed the shark tank at least four times before he took light of the issue. He needed to slow down. He would never find Jim this way. He rested for a minute on a nearby bench to catch his breath. The truth was, Wil cared deeply for the Jims. All of them. They shared the same careless curiosity, excitement, and impulsiveness. He knew each Jim personally which was an astonishing feat. He only complained about them to get something out of Dark. Wil was responsible for the Jims, and now, he lost one. He couldn’t go home until the missing Jim was safe. Wil quickly began a more organized search, determined to succeed.

Dark, on the other hand, was less passionate about the Jims. They were just an amalgamation of random ideas and chaos, and they gave him anxiety whenever he thought about them. They were out of his control most of the time, not that he ever really tried, and they knew it. In general, however, nothing catastrophic ever happened between the Jims and Dark. He would give anything to keep things that way.

After his casual saunter around the zoo, Dark reached the primate house. They were loud and obnoxious, making Dark regret choosing this location to search. Rather than focus on the mission to save the lost Jim, Dark tried to enjoy himself. He stopped to observe the numerous species of monkey and ape. They reminded him of the Jims, in a way. Heedlessly moving about and rolling around with each other. Dark found it slightly adorable. Yet, they were still intelligent; Dark could see that. The thought never occurred to him before, but he could recall several instances in which a Jim managed to surprise Dark with their thinking. Maybe the Jims weren’t as barbaric as he envisioned.

It was on that thought that Dark spotted something out of place in the exhibit. One of the monkeys appeared to be wearing a blue shirt. It was only after further inspection that Dark felt his stomach plummet inside him. It was Jim, in the enclosure. Stunned, Dark simply starred and wondered how the hell the Jim managed to get in with the animals. He could only watch and Jim crept up to one of the sleeping monkeys.

“Don’t eat the monkey!” a shout echoed throughout the building. Dark turned to see Wil, full sprint, toward him while eyeing Jim closely. The slap of sound shook Dark from his trance. Wil’s voice got Jim’s immediate attention. “Jim Dear, it was just a joke! Come out of there before you hurt yourself!” Jim wasted no time to follow the command; within seconds, he was standing next to the pair of lovers.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What were you thinking? Are you okay?” Wil asked in rapid succession. “Don’t go off like that without telling me. I lost my mind with worry.” His anger faded before Jim could make any sort of argument. Jim started to speak but was suddenly silenced by Wil as he hugged him tightly.

“Well, I think it’s time we head home. We’ve had quite the adventure,” stated Dark as he watched his boyfriend continue to hug Jim. Wil looked at Dark with slight disappointment, but it didn’t take long for him to agree.

The ride home was quiet as Wil and Jim dozed off, leaving Dark to think to himself. Wil was full of unconditional care. Dark had always known that, but today he saw it more than ever. The thought of Wil’s charisma made him smile. He was luckier than he imagined to know Wil. Today’s trip was more delightful than Dark ever could have expected, and he looked forward to doing it again next time.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerryPianist

[mndcvntrvl]

02 | The Weekend [part i.]

you ready bih? @rebellesixx (i pray this chapter is decent bc omg)

FRIDAY, APRIL 3RD

The sweet smell of coffee floated around me. Colombian grinded beans wafted into my nose, causing me to wrinkle up my face. I let my eyes follow the bodies of people walking passed me through the Plexiglas. Sunlight seeped right in front of my table in a crooked line—catching my attention whenever Maria would step in it.

“Hey,” I called towards her. Her tiny body stopped and turned towards me with look of mischief. Those big, doll-like eyes looked dead at me, causing me to smile.

“Mama,” she asked, her hands clapped as she did so.

I smiled and waved her back towards our table. “Don’t walk around without me,” I told her, grabbing her hand and pulling into my lap.

We had gotten a booth. The tables around us weren’t suitable for children. High tops with small black, metal legs. But the booths were wide and roomy, enough for me to sit Maria in my lap or next to me if she got to grumpy.

A chime sounded to my right—eyes locked on the person. A smile littered their face as I watched them catch me cowering away behind my hand. When they arrived to our booth, they picked Maria up out of my lap.

“And how is my favorite princess?”

Nadia had wanted to meet up somewhere after last week’s mess. With me being at work and picking up Maria from daycare, and her working at the salon all the time, we had no time except for today. Even then, it would be cut short because Chaos wanted to see his niece and talk to me, again.

Maria gave her a babbled answer before saying, “princey!”

We laughed in unison.

“You been havin’ a good week,” she asked me, sitting down in front of me. Her hair had gotten longer so she struggled to keep her curls out of Maria’s face as she maneuvered and scooted into her seat.

I sighed, rolling my eyes with puckered lips. “Let’s talk about how I’m goin’ to New York in the next five hours.”

“Talia!” Maria jumped at her voice, causing us both to laugh before Nadia ranted on. “Didn’t you just get over one life crisis already? The hell you goin’ over there for?”

“Well excuse the hell outta’ me, I see somebody’s in need of some coffee,” I scrunched up my face as I handed her a menu lying next to me. Her eyes glared at me before she snatched it and began to scan through it. With a childish grin, I pointed at new flavor on the menu. “Try the Belize Cappuccino.”

Nadia tried her hardest not to roll her eyes and give me a scowl as she started to take interest in the tropical advertisement of the drink, but soon failing when she finally looked at me. It never failed; trying to distract her is about the easiest thing to do. Between her and Maria I believe she had the quickest attention span of a fly, which is probably why she’s always trying ‘pay attention’. It never works though. Her eyes scanned mine; I busted out in a slight cackle.

“You not one ounce of shit,” Nadia noted, pointing her neon pink acrylic at me. I ceased my laughter, watching her through tear filled eyes as she gave me her infamous death glare.

“Remind me to do this more often.” I rubbed my eyes and took a glance at my phone. A text from my dad popped up—something unlike him.

“Why you makin’ that face,” at the sound of her question I looked up.

“Huh? Oh,” I shook my head and replied,

“Nah, my dad texted me—“she cut me off.

“Mr. Ramos can text?!”

“It’s Mr. Williams, and yes,” I answered, shaking my head once more. “It’s just an abnormal thing for him to do.”

“He must be excited to see you and the little one, ya know?”

I paused. My eyes never leaving my phone.

“Weeelllll about that…”

When I finally grew the courage to look at her, the face she gave me was priceless. Mouth agape, eyes wide—she gave Maria a look over before doing a double take at the both of us.

“You aren’t taking her? Uh,” she smacked her lips, “may I ask for the fuck why?”

“Stop cussin’ in front of my baby.”

She sucked her teeth, “answer the question Talia.”

I sighed before putting my phone back on the table. A waitress came to our table, my eyes pleading with her to stay just for a while—anything to distract Nadia.

“My I get your order ma’am,” the waitress asked her, pulling out her notepad. She was a cute girl, shorter than me with tawny skin and curly hair. “We have two new flavors, the Belize and Hawaiian Cappuccino.”

Nadia glared at me before giving the waitress a warm smile. “Uhm, I’d like to try the Belize Cappuccino please, hold the whip cream,” she finished, handing her the menu. When the waitress walked away, her eyes were back on me. “Now explain.”

“Chaos wanted to watch her this week, but you know how day care is set up and all that, soo I told him he could watch her for the weekend,” I explained, wincing up my face as if it would help me from any of her backlash.

“Does he know you’re goin’ to New York? A whole thirty billion miles away?”

“It is not that far, and he’s her uncle I’m pretty sure he can handle it.”

“Has even taken care of kids before?”

I sighed. “How would I know Nadia? All I know is that I’m trusting him with his niece for two whole days.”

“And you see no problem in that?”

“He said he was free this weekend, Nadia.”

“The streets don’t know what bein’ free for the weekend is,” I had to pause and gather myself when I heard that come out of her mouth because she was serious. Legit serious. It was taking everything in me to not fall out on the floor.

“You a trip,” I shook my head, pointing my index at her. “Dad wants me to come up there for the weekend and help someone’s PR team come up with some designs for some merch.”

“Extra guap?”

I nodded, taking a sip out of my latte. “I don’t know who it is tho’, that’s what’s killin’ me. Like how am I supposed to have an idea of what I wanna do if I don’t know who it is?”

 “It could be because he don’t know himself.”

“Nadia, this is my father we’re talkin’ about.”

She paused before nodding her head. “True.”

“See,” I pointed out. “I just want everything to go smoothly and quickly. My baby gon’ be all by herself,” I pouted, looking over a day-dreaming Maria.

She looked so much like Christian it was downright disgusting. It was like he chewed her up and spit her out, ugh, I hated it. Those same, droopy lips and doll-like eyes paired along with those bushy eyebrows—it was like looking at his twin. They both even have this weird birthmark right above their bellybutton and the same two beauty marks on their ankles.

I miss him so much, I thought to myself.

“You could’ve just took her with you, but,” she shrugged her shoulders and flipped her hair over her shoulders. With wide eyes, she smashed her lips together and looked down at the table.  

“You shady ass,” I laughed, picking up a wadded up napkin and throwing it at her.

She scrunched her face and threw it back at me. With a sly smirk, she looked at my phone before asking,

“Now it would make sense if it was because of Mister Black Pyramid himself, because honey chile’,” she poked out her lips and started snapping.

“Snap,” Maria asks, snapping out of the little day-dream she was in. Nadia nods.

“Mhm, snap ‘cause yo mama bouta’ get that pip—“I cut her off by throwing more wadded up napkins at her.

“Shh! You corruptin’ my baby,” I rushed out in a whisper, looking around the quiet café before turning back to her with a scowl. “It’s not even like that, oh mah’ god, Nadia it was a year ago—it wasn’t even like that!”

“But he was diggin’ you,” she replied, smugly, her nails tapped against the cherry wood table as her lips smashed together.

“And who’s to say he wasn’t? But nothin’ happened so…”

“Now let’s be honest if you was single you woulda’ been bouncin’ all—“

“And here is your Belize Cappuccino miss,” the waitress caught us both off guard as she plopped the giant blue glass down in front of Nadia.

“Uh,” astonished at the amount of whipped cream it had, Nadia nodded at the waitress uttering a, “thanks,” before waiting for her to walk away.

“Do you swallow or spit,” I asked, my lips forming a coy smirk.

Her eyes rose from the cup to meet mine—her eyebrows raised as her mouth opened. She pulled her head back and placed a hand on her chest before giving me the same smirk back.

“Hasn’t Chris asked you that already?”

“See this what we not gonna do,” I mused, grabbing my purse. “You know good and well I don’t see anybody like that.”

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. “But if that right person comes along then you betta’ hop on it,” she said in between sips of her drink.

“Can I at least get over Christian first,” I asked, “I can’t just hop on to someone like that, and you know that.

“I’m not sayin’ it like that, I just wanna see you happy.” She pointed at Maria. “She makes you happy, no?”

“Duh, it’s my child.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course she makes me happy.”

“Okay, well I wanna see you happy with someone else besides her,” she said, shifting Maria in her lap as though she were heavy.

“I wanna be happy period,” I replied. I scooted towards the end of the booth, rising from my seated position, stretching. “Listen, I know you’re lookin’ out for me, but I got some things to get through first, okay?”

“You know I want you to be happy, no matter what.”

“I know. Now gimme my child so I can head to this old man’s house.”

 The ride over to Chaos’ wasn’t too long. He said he had moved to a new area two years ago. The scenery wasn’t its usual tenet buildings and corner stores but more elaborate fresh markets and name-brand gas stations. Especially the people who lived here—white, but middle class white, like the ones who could afford to shop at Target and not get the off brand things.

His house was over in Glen Lake, a condominium with houses that could have well been mansions. He told me he lived on Jordan Street, way far in the back—and when he said way far back, he really meant it.

It wasn't a mansion, or a penthouse. But a traditional styled home, like one you'd see off of TV.

The exterior of the house alone held many architectural details, giving it this cozy facade but inside it was the total opposite. Its rock stone material was a beige color while the roof was bluish-grey.

From here you could see the blue curtains draped over the windows, making it impossible to see inside and beside the house was an attached garage. Chaos wasn’t subtle with his cars, he had them all out to see—even the fancy ones he knew he wouldn’t dare drive.

I had texted him that I was parked out front. His only response was to, ‘come on in’.

But I was nervous. It had been awhile since I had walked inside of his home. Yeah it was three years ago in a different area, when we were all in a different space in our lives, but now it just gives me butterflies. Here I am, with his niece walking up to his brand new house with a brand new batch of possibilities waiting for me on the other side of the door.

That’s when I can hear Christian in the back of head saying, “you’ll live, now stop bein’ scary and go do it.”

I stood at the door with a sleeping Maria in my hands. Her sleeping bag and baby bag were in both of my hands; my only option was to ring his doorbell. After a few minutes of not getting a response, I believe my finger permanently stayed on his doorbell until I got a very loud, “hold on! Shit!”

“Who the fu—“lo and behold, the man himself snatches the door open, his face reading irritation until he drops his gaze to the sleeping baby in my arms. “Oh shit,” he whispers, leaning down and taking her out of my arms. “Why you ain’t just call me?”

I nodded down to the bags in my hand, then pointing at Maria. “What could I have grabbed my phone with, my toes?”

He sucked his teeth. “You still mean.” He noted. He stepped to the side, opening the door more. “Come in, the couch is right behind me. You can put all that shit on there.”

I did as he said. Looking around, I noticed the place was really neat and organized—something out of character for Chaos, but then again, it’s been a few since I’ve last seen him.

“The place looks nice,” I complimented, hearing a door close behind me, I turned around and smiled up at him. “The black and gold color scheme suits you.”

“The black and gold color scheme really suits you,” he flipped imaginary hair over his shoulder as he mimicked me, making me flip him off. It only fueled the fire in which was indeed, Chaos. “What else are you gonna tell me? My beard brings out the color in my eyes?”

I cocked my head to the side, squinting my eyes at him. “Well if you trimmed it a lil’ on the sides—“

“Kitchen. Go, now.”

“What about Maria? Lay her down on the couch,” I said, reaching my hands out for her. “Gimme.”

After I laid her down, the walk to his kitchen was quick. It was the room over from the living room we were in. Victorian like drapes hung from the grand window in front of the sink. In the middle was the island, black marble sat atop with gold flecks in it. The cabinets were all matte black with gold handles and knobs. Chaos had positioned himself near the sink, back against it with his legs in front of him.

“You hungry?”

I shook my head, sitting on the barstool adjacent to the island. “No, we ate before we came, but thank you. Now what is it that we so desperately need to talk about?”

“Why you say it like that?” he asked, leaning back more to place his elbows on the counter. “I just wanted to know where you gon’ be at, damn, I can’t eem’ do that?”

I laughed, looking down at my hands. “Nah, I thought it was gon’ be somethin’ serious, but my father wants to see me.”

“And you not takin’ lil bit?”

For whatever reason I couldn’t tell him that my father’s only seen pictures of her. Or gotten the occasional Face Time and one on one with her. Nadia doesn’t even know that and she’s the one who knows everything; even before I know it. Plus I already have enough explaining to do when I get over there, I didn’t feel like doing it now.

“No,” I muttered, leaning forward in my chair. “I’m gonna be busy… as well as he is, so there’d be no time, really.”

“So you tellin’ me…” he started, pushing himself off of the counter all while walking over to me. “Yo daddy ain’t go nobody, family, or nothin’ to watch her while you there n’ shit?”

“Do you not wanna watch her?”

“Now did I say that? Nah I was just askin’ ‘cause I know he’d probably wanna spend time wit’ his granddaughter. Ain’t you got some family up there too?”

“Just my father and his mom. So nah, because she lives all the way in Long Island, plus it would just be a hassle to do multiple things at once and watch her.”

“So you just goin’ up there for the weekend? No loungin’ wit Robyn or nun’?”

Shaking my head at his Robyn comment, I let out a chuckle and placed my hands on the counter.

“One, Robyn is not at all in New York. She’s doing something with Puma this month so she’s across the country. And two, yes, just for the weekend to work on some merchandise for this celebrity, probably some simple graphics and sketches. Before you ask, no, I don’t know,” I finished, placing my hands together and bringing them closer to my chest.

“Okay… You excited to go? See ya peeps’ n’ shit.” he raised an eyebrow as he drummed his fingers on the counter, causing me to narrow my eyes at his fingers; an action that made him slowly stop.

“Eh, it’s just for work so I can’t be overly excited, ya know? Not like I’m gonna be goin’ out n’ shit,” I unclasped my hands to wave one off in the air before intertwining them back together. “If that’s all you wanted to know then… anything else you wanna talk about?”

Our eye contact was very sporadic, it would break and rejoice. In this one moment, we rejoiced, catching the looks of nervousness and nostalgia all in one before breaking it again.

“You seein’ anybody?”

When I tell you I almost lost a lung in this man’s kitchen, I was hacking away. I’m pretty sure I scared him, only because he got me a glass of water and damn near forced me to drink it all until I calmed down.

As I regulated my breathing, I raised an eyebrow at him. “Where the hell did that question come from?”

“It was just a question, I ain’t mean anything by it.”

“Well…” I hesitated. For the life of me I don’t why I did. I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. “No, I haven’t really been in the head space to even think about anyone else.”

I miss my baby. Three years without him feels like it’s been thirty. I get so wrapped up in my thoughts about him that I can’t seem to think about anybody else. If I’m not thinking about him, it’s Maria, and if not her, the possibility of them being together in this sad, depressive fantasy I always have of him actually being here.

In my hesitation, my mind raced a mile of minute. The question being bestowed upon me made me feel some type of way. One, I didn’t know where the question could be coming from. It could have been coming from a curious state or one trying to barge into my life. And two, coming from my lover’s brother, it makes me feel like I’m being ridiculed for even thinking about somebody else.

“So you haven’t even tried to find somebody,” he asked, toying with the empty glass I left on the counter. “Not even a date?”

“Where is all of this comin’ from Chaos? No… I still catch myself wanting to text him when he’s coming over for movie night, for Christ sakes. How am I gonna even have the time to go on a date when I’m too busy watching a child? Do you hear how dumb you sound when you ask that question,” I took in a deep breath when I realized how fast I was talking. It didn’t hit me that I had started to tear up, until I wiped at my left eye and saw a wet mark on my index.

I hadn’t realized I wasn’t looking at him either; my hands were in my gaze until I forced myself to stare at him.

His hands were up in a defensive state as he shook his head. “I was just askin’ lil bit, I ain’t mean to make you upset or nun’.”

I shook my head and swiped a hand down my face, all I could do was sigh and close my eyes for a second before popping them back open.

“Listen,” I said, “it’s not your fault… I’m sorry for calling you dumb. I’m just going through some things right now.”

“You know you can always talk to me.” He opened his arms. “Now c’mere, you big ass baby.”

“I ain’t no baby,” I retorted. I rose from the barstool, and walked over to him before getting engulfed in his long arms. “Let me go kiss my baby goodbye, I gotta go get my stuff.”

  I had never been in my apartment by myself for this long. Maria was either at day-care or Nadia’s around this time. I was usually at work, getting ready to go on my lunch break with this girl named Paula. She had recently transferred from a graphics company from Minnesota and instantly fit right in. It had only been a week or so before we introduced ourselves and by the next week, we had established lunch dates together.

After that I’d head back to work for three more hours. Probably finishing up a web design or doing some clothing mock-ups for a local business.

And still—that sounds way better than sitting in my apartment until one o’clock.

When I got in, I knocked right out. I mean sprawled out on my couch, legs all over the place with my head hanging halfway off for a good hour. Still, I woke up and realized I had two more hours to spare so in good efforts to not end up in a rut, I pulled out my laptop and opened up Photoshop and Illustrator.

When I initially started working with the thought of being a graphic designer, I always thought of it to be an odd job. Especially with few women in the field, it made me question it even more. But as I got older, I grew to have a love for computers and art. Problem: I couldn’t draw; but I took a summer course my junior year of high school on Graphic Communications and got taught the true meaning of being a graphic designer.

With months of practicing and training, by the time I was sixteen I had a certification in three Adobe Programs: Photoshop, Illustrator, and InDesign. My first ever job in graphics was working at this rinky dink store in lower east Manhattan called Dan’s Shirts where you could get anything design you wanted on a shirt; literally. If I wasn’t making the designs, I was screen-printing them all. Once I hit the age of eighteen, I was working over in Brooklyn with a guy who made banners and signs; way more money coming in on that end. Still, I did side jobs for extra cash. Making flyers for parties, covers for mixtapes—I wasn’t well known, but I still was doing something I enjoyed.

Now I have a career out of it. I don’t have to hustle anymore to make ends meet. The life I have now is something I didn’t think I’d ever have when I was younger.

I didn’t think I’d even get this far when Christian disappeared.

So I thank the Lord everyday for blessing me with Maria because without her I wouldn’t be here nor busting my ass to provide her better life.

Are you proud of me? I thought to myself as I allowed my eyes to get adjusted to the bright screen.

My censor moved and clicked around, looking for files hidden in folders I hadn’t opened in weeks. When the name loverboy popped up, I clicked on it hastily. When it opened, five documents popped into Photoshop, each still the same as I left them.

Christian would let me practice my photography skills on him sometimes. It could be something as simple as an innocent selfie, or a full blown photo shoot at times. This particular set of photos was a photo shoot I had done with him in this vintage Cadillac… right before he went missing.

When he was still here, he said he wanted me to make him, “look like a Calvin Klein model.” So I let him pick where he wanted to be shot at and when we arrived at that car lot, I looked over at him with a skeptical look, asking him, “you wanna shoot… here?” It was in that moment I had never seen him so sure of something in his life.

We had only gotten up to five photos because it started raining. So I had no other photos to choose from nor edit—then he went missing. And the rest is history, until I catch myself staring at them and realizing how much he really meant to me.

I closed out the document.

Before I could start looking for old projects to work on, my phone dinged, causing me to dig it out of my pocket and look at it.

My eyes squinted at the unknown number. A chill ran down my spine as I looked around my dim living room. Only light on was the light coming from my kitchen above my stove. Other than that, my living room was only receiving light from the open blinds.

My hands were trembling as I shut my laptop and ran into my room. I don’t think I had even given myself time to breathe until I jumped square in the middle of my bed with my pocket knife in my hand.

I gripped my pocket knife tighter against my chest. My knees were pulled to my chest as I looked around my room nervously. It was like all of my senses were on ten; my ears were picking up on cars that probably weren’t even in front of my complex. Everything I touched felt ten times more real than what it was—I couldn’t process a single thought.

I didn’t even get a chance to send a second text.

“Oh hell no…” I mumbled, screenshoting the text thread before deleting it all together. My body shook, hands shaking as I tried to dial Nadia’s number before giving up with a cry of distress. Instead I just sent her the screen shots and prayed she’d respond telling me she was playing around with me or some shit.

My endless banging never ceased. The outside of my fist started to ache and turn beet red, but I never let up. I was in such a daze I had no idea how I even ended up back in front of this very door—but I knew I had a mission to plan and I needed answers.

“Yo, aye hol’ up—“his voice came from the other end until he snatched the door open. “Lil’ bit? Why you bac—“

I pushed right past him. Tunnel vision clouded me. All of my sensibilities and common sense had left an hour ago. Endless possibilities of murder and screaming filled every nerve in my body until I was forced to face it.

“Talia,” his voice rang in my ear, I could feel his hand touch my elbow.

I turned around to face him. The look of discomfort and confusion wiped across his face. His eyebrows were furrowed as he toyed with his bottom lip with his teeth, three wrinkles found there place on his forehead.

“Where is he Chris?”

My lips snarled up as he looked taken back.

“Who—wha—where is who?” he asked, scrunching up his face and shaking his head.

Snatching my phone from my back pocket, I unlocked it and shoved it right in his hands.

“Where the hell is he and don’t lie to me,” enclosing the space between us, I looked up at him and watched as his eyes scanned the thread. “Chris!”

“What?!” He yelled. His eyes scanned the thread once more as he stuck my phone back out to me. “I… I don’t know what to tell you Talia, that could be anybody.”

I shook my head, snatching my phone away from him “Oh shut the fuck up wit’ that lame ass excuse!”

“Who you getting’ buck wit’?” he asked, “’cause I know you ain’t ‘bout to act an ass while your child is here.”

In that moment, my eyes snapped over to the flat screen television flashing bright lights. Some kids show was on; but my eyes landed on Maria sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by her toys—lost in the world of colors and shapes.

“Now we can take this in the kitchen.” He pointed at Maria. “See her? Ion’t think you want her to see you like that.”

“Ion’t think you wanna see what the hell is gon’ happen if you don’t tell me what the hell is goin’ on.” I cautioned. “Who else knows about him being missing Chris? Because as far as I know it’s only a few who really do.”

With a look over to Maria, Chaos grabbed my elbow and forced me into the kitchen with him. Upon entering, he roughly tore his hand away before placing a hand on my shoulder and shoving me towards the island.

With my left hand, I tore his hand off of me and took a step away.

“Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

���Crazy?” I paused, gathering myself before I said anything stupid. “I got some random ass person stalkin’ me and tellin’ me Christian’s alive and you got the fuckin’ audacity my nigga to say that to me right now?” I asked, “Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

He rolled his eyes, mashing his lips together. “Talia that’s not the point, you takin’ it—“I cut him off.

“I ain’t takin’ nothin’ out of context Chris, facts is facts, and the fact is that someone is lyin’ to me!”

“Who?” he yelled. “You ain’t think I’m wonderin’ where this shit comin’ from too?”

“You sure as hell ain’t actin’ like it!”

“If I knew who this was, my brother woulda’ been back by now,” he smacked his hands on the counter. “Stop makin’ it seem like you the only one lost, ‘cause I don’t know shit either!”

I paused. Speechless—I had nothing left to say. My anger had gotten the best of me and it resulted in me not thinking clearly on what exactly I wanted to say.

“See?” he pointed at me. “Jumpin’ to conclusions n’ shit, stop doin’ that shit.”

“How Chris?” I retorted back, banging my fist on the counter. “One minute I’m chillin’ on my couch and the next I’m getting’ told my boyfriend is still alive and that I’m basically bein’ lied too, now c’mon, what you want me to do? Be rational? ‘Cause being rational ain’t getting’ me nowhere, now is it?”

“Ain’t nobody sayin’ you gotta do anything, but stop thinkin’ everybody know what’s goin’ on.”

“We were the only people who knew he went missin’! How the hell am I not gon’ think you niggas don’t know what’s goin on?” He rolled his eyes at that, smacking his lips before retorting with,

“Because we don’t!”

Time stopped right there for me. The feeling of defeat wrapped me in a blanket made from anger and I let it suffocate me. I let the suffocation of anger and fear fill my chest as I weighed down my options of either, arguing more, or, letting the situation rock because it was now out of my control.  

“Bullshit…” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Listen, I just—I don’t know anymore.” My mouth slowly closed as I ran a hand through my hair. Chest rising up and down, I brought both hands together and intertwined my fingers.

“Don’t you gotta be at the airport?”

I snapped my head up in his direction before putting my gaze back on my hands.

“Yeah,” I answered, unlocking my hands and palming the counter under them.

I had a bitter taste in my mouth. My eyes threatened to leak—but I wasn’t going to do that. I wouldn’t allow him to see me break as such. Anger had me in its grip and I knew I needed to leave before I resorted into my hands speaking for me.

Shaking my head, I pushed my body away from the counter and without another word walked out of the kitchen with Chaos right on my heels. I could feel his bulky body inches from mine, but he soon stopped following me when he saw where I was headed.

“Hey mija,” I cooed towards her, picking her up off of the plush carpet. Her little arms wrapped around my neck in excitement as she left slobbery kisses on my face.

“Mommy’s gonna go, okay?” I whispered to her. Our noses touched as I placed a peck on her lips—a smile graced her tiny face. “I love you.”

As I placed her down, the sound of Chaos clearing his throat made me regret everything about today. With one last look at Maria, I turned towards him but walked for the door until he grabbed my forearm before I could reach the door handle.

“What?”

He sucked his teeth. “Don’t act like that.”

“Listen,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have to go, make sure my baby is taken care of Chris.”

His eyes widen at the sound of his name before a short, forced, chuckle left his lips. He nodded before shaking his head and letting go of my arm.

“Have a safe trip.”

I couldn’t speak anymore. So I just walked out.

 Below the spectrum of depression is what I like to call “numbness”. Hence, you feel like you exist, but nonetheless, you still manage to feel like you’re in limbo. To you, there is no other reason to feel joy or the happiness you might want to have later on. In that state, it’s easy for you to misguide yourself and wonder what it would be like if you simply, weren’t there.

Would this have happened if I were never here?

If we never met, would he still be here?

If my life no longer mattered, would his fate still be altered?

My mind raced for some reasonable possibilities to keep my dark thoughts away. But each possibility matched one of my depressive thoughts—I wanted a drink. I wanted the biggest bottle of Chardonnay this plane had and I wanted it lodged down my esophagus.

But you’re better than that, I thought to myself.

My tongue laid flat against the roof of my mouth as I gnawed at my bottom lip. I let my acrylics tap on the glass window next to me, not caring if I annoyed anybody. For the time being I needed something, anything, to distract me from the oncoming wave of destruction I wanted to cause.

Chaos texted me shortly after I had arrived to the airport. Never knew the man to be such the novelist.

At the time of the text I hadn’t cared for him as much. Even now, I still don’t wish to speak to him. Call me childish or anything you’d like but I won’t surround myself with people who think of such situations as me playing a pity party for myself. Never have I once came to him with anything about his brother that wasn’t worthy of his knowledge.

Besides Maria, at least.

Now that this bombshell is on my plate, I’m lost for words on what to do. The person knows where I live, they know about Christian, so what else do they know? What don’t they know, is honestly the scarier part to me. Just the thought of Christian being out there alive and not knowing, or knowing a small fragment of what’s happened since he’s been gone makes me sick at it.

What if he knows?

What if he doesn’t? How much will it affect us?

With all the what if’s and not’s. With all the how’s and why’s—I still get nervous at the latter possibility. I get downright queasy with the thought of having to see him in a wooden box before I got the chance to tell him that I love him.

Before I could suck myself into a deeper hole, the plane shook with slight turbulence. Seconds later, the pilot announces,

Flight One-Eighty, you have arrived at JFK.

A smile of relief found my face. I envisioned the look of my father’s face when he sees me. I had so much to tell him, especially with Maria, I just hoped he held as much enthusiasm as I did.

So when the plane landed and I gathered my bags and walked off with the other passengers—my phone dinged twice.