/* 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒔.

i   think   it’s   well-known   that   nearly   everyone   is   bad   at   intros,   right?   hi!   i’m   rosie   and   i’m   excited   to   write   with   you   all.   it’s   getting   late   in   my   zone   here,   but   i’m   going   to   post   my   intro   just   to   get   it   out   of   the   way.  here   is   arwen’s   full   google   doc   biography    because   i’m   THAT   insane   about   this   muse.   think   of   it   like   a   lil   sneak   peek   into   who   she   is.

but   in   the   mean   time,   i’ll   leave   some   of   her   stats   under   the   cut!

looks   like   ARWEN   DREW   blew   in   a   MONTH   ago   &   never   left.   they’ve   proven   themselves   to   be   ZEALOUS   &   DIAGNOSTIC,   but   being   BLAZING   &   THWARTYFUL   is   their   downfall.   it’s   only   fitting   that   HOUSE   OF   MEMORIES   by   PANIC!   AT   THE   DISCO   is   playing   when   they   leave   their   home   in   salem's   lot.   rumor   has   it   that   they   performed   arson   on   her   parent's   home,   wonder   if   that’s   why   the   PAINTER   ARTIST   moved   out   of   their   place   in   HICKORY,   NORTH   CAROLINA.

Ren knows he’s been lucky in plenty of aspects in his life - he has a sister who he loves, an auntie who would do anything for him, more than enough money in the bank to live a life of leisure…he could spend his days traveling on expensive boats eating even more expensive cheese…and yet, for some reason, he chooses exhaustion instead. Traveling to New Jersey for his employer, who didn’t trust the postal system for some ungodly reason, should have been an easy trip. And then the airline lost his suitcase. And his Uber driver dropped him at the wrong house. And the battery in his phone had died after the brief flight ( He had to pay for in-flight Wi-Fi to catch up on the season finale of the Bachelor that he’d missed due to work ).

He’s sure the exhaustion is apparent on his typically well-manicured face. He’s, unfortunately, never been able to grow facial hair, but in the early light of the morning Ren swears he sees a feint five o’clock shadow marking his chin. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up so early –” Those are the first words from his mouth when he sees the woman behind the door. The sun hasn’t even risen yet. “My driver happened to drop me off at your house and my phone is dead so I can’t even call another one and – again, I’m really sorry for waking you up so early. But, you wouldn’t mind letting me in to use your phone for a minute, would you? And maybe your bathroom?”

&&.   she’s   usually   suspicious   of   everyone   -   especially   of   those   who   looked   disheveled   and   a   complete   mess.   but   arwen   was   one   to   judge,   right?   still,   she   narrowed   her   eyes   at   the   guy   standing   in   front   of   her,   helpless,   dark   circles   under   his   eyes.   briefly,   her   mind   flashed   to   a   similar   incident   a   few   weeks   earlier   -   her   drug   dealer,   stuck   in   the   same   predicament,   wanting   to   come   in   because   she   apparently   owed   him   money.   this   was   false   because   arwen   knew   that   she   already   paid   him.   

but   this   guy,   however   .   .   .      tilting   her   head   back   and   forth,   she   studied   him.   he   seemed   harmless,   full   of   desperation   while   he   waited   for   her   decision   to   be   made.   let   him   in   or   to   not   let   him   in?   that   was   the   question.   arwen   pursed   her   lips   together.

SALEM’S LOT - arwen’s place

&&. arwen’s   never   been   much   for   festivities   ever   since   her   father   passed   .   it’s   why   she   didn’t   even   bother   to   partake   in   salem’s   holiday   town   events   ,   choosing   to   stay   indoors   and   paint   the   day   away   .   having   been   up   since   five   am   ,   she   had   only   managed   to   accumulate   only   one   hour   of   sleep   .   hearing   the   doorbell   echo   throughout   her   entire   home   ,   she   let   out   a   groan   and   threw   her   pillow   over   her   head   ,   hoping   to   muffle   the   sound   so   she   could   sleep   a   little   bit   more   .   but   whoever   was   at   her   door   was   insistent   ,   because   when   the   doorbell   didn’t   work   ,   they   ended   up   pounding   the   door   loudly   instead.   “are   you   fucking   kidding   me   ?”   she   grumbled   to   herself   and   pushed   herself   out   of   bed   .   

feet   stomped   down   the   oak   stairs   ,   her   hair   was   a   mess   ,   in   tangles   with   one   another   ,   and   drool   stained   the   side   of   her   cheek   .   being   here   only   a   month   ,   she   still   didn’t   know   the   locals   well   enough   to   have   an   actual   bond   with   any   of   them   ,   so   when   she   found   them   standing   at   her   doorstep   ,   a   bewildered   expression   fell   over   a   dazed   face   .   sighing   ,   arwen   opened   the   door   even   further   ,   shooting   them   a   glare   .   “seriously   ?”   she   began   and   leaned   up   against   the   door   frame   .   “it’s   six   in   the   morning   .   just   tell   me   what   the   hell   you   want   and   leave   me   alone   ,   please   .”

[ location: the lucky cat fitness centre. ]

“you know, a lotta folks usually avoid this fuckin’ place after christmas. ain’t got no clue why, maybe they’re savin’ up the calorie-burnin’ till after the new year’s feast.” it wasn’t anything uncommon for the boxing instructor to pluck a chatter or two amidst rows of these gym-goers — it could be an irritating diversion, but after her recent lurch with her health and prolonged absence, there was a part of her that wanted to attempt worming back into her other establishment as well as its regulars. secluding herself with the stacks of dossiers and case requests could get a little lonesome and tedious, not to mention she could also use the opportunity to continue getting back in shape. drapped in her casual, loose tee, she stuffed her palms in her pockets as she navigated around — one person in particular catching her interest. “you doin’ alright? couldn’t help but notice you seemed to struggle a bit with this thing,” she poked one of the eliptical trainers; frankly, she wouldn’t be surprised if one of the machines turned out to be slightly rusty after her time away. “need any help?” 

@salemstart​

&&. arwen   drew   didn’t   do   the   gym   -   it   was   out   of   nature   for   her,   given   the   place   is   usually   filled   to   the   brim   with   sweaty   bodies   and   grown   men   gawking   at   her   rear   and   breasts.   or   maybe   that   was   how   it   as   in   new   york,   where   people   were   meant   to   keep   their   head’s   down   and   mind   their   own   business,   though   in   reality,   they   never   truly   did.   it   surprised   arwen   to   see   how   baren   the   lucky   cat   fitness   centre   was,   thankful   that   it   wasn’t   full   and   she   could   full   on   embarrass   herself   on   the   machines   as   much   as   she   wanted   to.

standing   on   the   elliptical   trainer,   she   struggled   just   keeping   her   balance   on   the   machine   itself   as   the   boxing   instructor   mused   on   about   the   lack   of   attendees   at   the   gym   that   day.   lips   pressed   together   in   concentration,   she   tried   her   best   not   to   tumble   off   as   she   grasped   the   handles   hard   and   true.   when   heather   moon   noted   the   struggle   arwen   drew   was   having,   arwen   couldn’t   tell   if   the   red   flush   creeping   onto   her   round   cheeks   was   caused   by   embarrassment   or   it   was   the   workout   of   trying   to   work   the   machine...   or   both.

scout & open; at pedro’s pawn shop || @salemstart​

— Held at knife point, she reached underneath the front counter to draw her own, personal weapon of choice. It wasn’t her coveted Smith & Wesson Model 19s, but something far more powerful: la chancla. Scout wasted no time in scolding the petty thief, giving her sandal a good shake in the robber’s direction. “What do you think this is, huh?” she said. “We only keep a hundred bucks in the register at a time. There’s literally a Citizens Bank next door you could’ve robbed.”

Scout whipped her sandal at the robber’s wrists. The knife flew out of his grasp, clattering at the feet of her would-be customer had her afternoon shift not devolved into a hold-up at Pedro’s. “I am not about to be stabbed with your mother’s nail file,” she warned. She slips off her other sandal, reels her arm back, and flung it towards the criminal’s face.

The robber panicked. His elbow drove down on the display counter’s glass. Shards plunk to the floor, a merry tinkling sound with the lightness of a spring rain. “Shit, he’s seen Die Hard,” she swore. Scout glanced at her customer who as of right now, had the upper hand.

&&.   the   golden   coins   jingled   in   the   pockets   of   her   denim   jacket.   pony   tail   swinging   back   and   forth,   arwen   kept   her   head   lowered   -   she   was   trying   her   best   not   to   look   so   conspicuous,   but   with   the   way   she   carried   herself   along   main   street   said   otherwise.   smaller   digits   brushing   against   the   faces   of   the   gold   in   her   grasp,   arwen   realized   that   she   didn’t   know   whether   she   passed   the   local   pawn   shop   or   not.   “oop   --!”   she   shifted   in   her   step,   backing   up   slightly   to   realize   that   she   missed   the   shop   just   by   a   bakery,   a   bank,   and   a   bench.   arwen   glanced   up   at   the   sign   that   screamed   pedro’s   pawn   shop.   beaming   to   herself   with   anticipation,   arwen   bounced   up   and   down   -   perfect,   time   to   make   some   money.