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@pa-wn
she's hittin' the ground running! original character inspired by stephen king's pet sematary and the zombies' 1964 debut single 'she's not there,' written by ivy.
hello there! please expect low, slow, and sporadic activity. you'll find the rules below! character info and other fun stuff will be available shortly. thanks, have a good one 🌀
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INDUSTRY Both, And
here are random things Charlotte enjoys: cheering and applauding for any reason at all, paperback editions of books, keeping random things in her pockets, when the wind turns people's noses and ears red, the Philadelphia Flyers' mascot Gritty, playing music so loudly she can feel it in her chest, getting stitches while running, trick shots while playing pool, and the diversity of other people's little quirks in mannerisms.
here are some things Charlotte has little patience for: body-con dresses because how the fuck is she supposed to move in these things, second-guessing and feet-dragging attitudes because let's carpe the fucking diem already, sitcoms because who the fuck has time for this — go do something irl , lo-fi music because it just sounds like a lot of nothing noise to her, being pampered and / or coddled because this shit isn't relaxing or healing — it makes her feel like a corpse or a baby, being in any sort of leadership role because she'd rather be getting her hands dirty than ordering other people around.
❤︎ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 & 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 ! ( a collection of 75+ kisses. feel free to specify the initiating muse. potentially mature content within. UPDATED 02/25 ! )
finally kissing the person you’ve been pining for.
pulling them in for a kiss while showering together.
a kiss shared during a game ( truth or dare, spin the bottle, etc ).
kissing your lover to show you forgive them.
a coy, chaste kiss meant to say thank you.
an intimate kiss full of relief the second you're finally alone.
wiping away your lover’s tears as you kiss them.
a kiss muffled by laughter in a library, hidden away among the shelves.
lazy kisses on the sofa while the television runs.
kisses while wrapping your legs around your lover.
a quick peck on the cheek as one party rushes off.
a kiss to prove you don’t have feelings for them.
a kiss to convince them not to leave bed in the morning.
a kiss to distract them from stitching a wound.
a parting kiss before one party goes away for a long time.
biting their lip amidst a kiss, drawing blood.
heated kisses while tugging on their hair.
abruptly kissing a stranger to scare off the people following you.
an emotional kiss bringing one party to tears.
a bruising kiss full of desperation and urgency.
distracting your lover from a task by kissing their neck.
standing on your tiptoes to kiss their forehead.
kissing down the column of your lover's neck, leaving marks.
a kiss while being reunited after a long time.
kissing your lover in a moment of sheer joy.
a dutiful kiss with no true feeling behind it.
kissing your lover to take away their pain.
colliding with a wall, then each other's lips.
a kiss placed over their freshly bandaged wound.
a kiss while slow dancing close and intimately.
sharing a spontaneous kiss with a stranger.
an abrupt , heated kiss during the middle of a fight.
a kiss motivated by a dare from a third party.
an adrenaline-fueled kiss while standing on the ledge of a rooftop.
kissing them to shut them up.
urgent, messy kisses as both parties scramble to undress.
a kiss to wake your lover up in the morning.
sharing a kiss in a heavy downpour of rain.
kissing your lover just above their waistband.
kissing your partner to seal a marriage.
pushing your love down onto the bed to worship their body with kisses.
a possessive kiss to stake a claim.
a kiss to resolve suppressed ( romantic / sexual ) tension.
a kiss attempting to convince the other party to stay.
kissing the top of their head as you hold them.
a risky kiss between forbidden lovers.
a kiss while hiding away from flashing cameras.
a kiss that means absolutely nothing.
kissing the swell of your lover's breast.
a kiss that leaves lipstick stains.
a kiss shared on a rooftop while the sun ( sets / rises ).
a flirtatious kiss on the back of the hand.
sensual kisses down the length of their back.
kissing them to confess your true feelings.
sneaking off to a public bathroom to make out.
a kiss to forgive one another after a fight.
a kiss on the forehead as the other sleeps.
an ( accidental / mutually ) drunken kiss.
an unexpected kiss during a fake dating scheme.
kissing your partner after they've given you head.
caging your lover against a wall with your arms to kiss them.
a kiss after receiving good news.
an emotional kiss, relieved to find your lover alive.
crowded, heated kisses in the backseat of a car.
a tentative , exploratory kiss between friends.
a kiss shared between enemies during combat.
a kiss that smears blood everywhere.
kissing them even though you know you shouldn't.
kissing your lover after believing you’d lost them.
a kiss after a devastating event , meant to comfort.
a possessive kiss in front of a jealous third party.
kisses while pulling them into your lap.
a heated kiss while holding them by the throat.
kissing your lover under the night sky while stargazing.
a kiss to seal a promise that you just made.
kissing your lover lazily first thing in the morning.
holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them.
holding their face, kissing the tears from their cheeks.
a kiss to your lover’s stomach as you travel down their body.
an abrupt kiss that you melt into after a moment of hesitation.
sleepy , domestic morning kisses in the kitchen while making breakfast.
a rushed kiss before one party leaves for work.
a final kiss shared while holding your dying lover.
he can see it, the debate. a fucked up habit of his follows him everywhere and has bothered him less and less as time goes on. it's the way the eyes gloss and distant themselves from the conversation at hand. like a grasp reaching into the back of the mind, maneuvering through possibilities and outcomes. good and bad, but mostly bad. before, david used to wonder if this is what he looked like to everyone else and if his eyes had ever looked present in his life. now, he knows this to be true. true, except for when he's with charlotte. ice cold eyes don't soften or melt, but they find peace in the cold when he analyzes charlotte's features. " just you and me. " repetitive of the terms and conditions, david bobs his head once, twice, unreleasing of his electric gaze.
he's staring, but he's listening. a drive, she offers, and he puts it at the top of his mental page. underlined, dashes beneath, clues yet to pick up on. apple orchard comes next. jotted down, circled. ticks flick out and diagram beneath it: catch the sunrise, a fireworks contest.. he thinks he knows what that is. david question marks it, but his gaze remains unbitten and unmoving. his hands are metronomic with how careful and true he sticks to his beat of combing through her blonde strands. he almost mentions how most of the guys at work are often stolen away to play house. thinks he better keep it to himself. he wouldn't necessarily mind that either. " so, " it speaks, " apple picking? " it's another fucked up habit of his. over-simplifying. it pisses off interrogees and tends to push them into over explaining themselves into handcuffs. he does it to charlotte just to be an asshole. " apple picking and sunrise and, a firework contest. " check, check, check. " the fuck is a firework contest? "
so, apple picking? " that's the idea, " was her easy response, cheered with a little of the music in her voice. her face remained, infinitely and inarguably, the more expressive between the two of them. under his cold and steady stare, the geography of her features seemed to shift and morph without pause; for one, the smile was never a sure thing, switching - stretching - smearing with the fluidity of a river. the eyes, another, hardly reliable in their flickering, much like far - off stars, blinking - winking. this time, it's an eye - roll, finishing its arc and hidden just at the very last second by the shuttering of her eyelids. having been abandoned by Amy, her friend leaving her without a new message for some time now and here, having had her book wickedly purloined by her lover for who this prize was apparently not enough and so, had to poke fun at her simple schemes while he was at it, Charlotte decided to call it: she folded her arms under her chest, cleared her mind, and surrendered to the long - held, long - reigning glacial mood of David's home.
never would this agent of chaos ever assume anything to be a done deal until said deal was, in fact and before her very eyes ( ! ), dead, done, and put to rest.. but she could allow for things to go their way. whether she and David would take this drive was, to her, yet to be seen; how odd, in a way that was so their own. certainty in chaos while mundanity proved to be like walking down an unknown corridor in pitch - dark, unsure where their next footstep might land, fearing that being hand - in - hand might mean two bodies hitting the ground instead of just one. still, blithe, she was — but meditative, she was not! his direct question was met with the familiar sound of her laugh. her smile reached her unopened eyes. then, her quick and carefree answer: " probably exactly what it sounds like. a contest of fireworks. " her thoughtlessness in replying to him was not deliberate in and of itself, but her disinclination to think too hard about something that promised equal parts stupidity and entertainment was certainly intentional. " —a couple towns get together and try to shoot fireworks better than the other. I don't know, " a spark of clear honesty. " I've never been to one. "
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︑︒⚬∙ 🌀︓ CONT. FROM HERE / @nota1one
— it's enough to make her stop walking and peer down at her phone over the shade of her sunglasses.
[ TXT ] i'm fine. definitely the last one. [ TXT ] just wanted to let you know i'm on my way now. [ TXT ] or did you not want to go to the bookstore anymore?
I STAY WITH HER WORDS , IN THE BLOODY SLOP OF HER FACE. MARCHING MYSELF OVER THE RUSH OF HER EMOTIONS . HUMORED BY THE NOTION OF TRANQUILITY IN THE AFTERMATH OF HER BATTLE . •- “ I THINK OUR BRAVE MISS IS QUITE THE INSPIRATION! ” I THROW THE QUIP AND JOSTLE AROUND HER , PUTTING A LIGHT WEIGHTED FIST INTO HER BACK . MARKING HER GREAT ACHIEVEMENT IN COLORS OF EMBARRASSMENT BEFORE OPENING THE WAY TO MEDICINE . CHAOS BREEDS CHAOS AND SO I TAKE MY TIME - HAPPILY PLAYING THE FOOL ( MADE GREAT IN HIS TEASING OF THE HERO ) WITH EYES DARTING BETWEEN HER AND THE MEDICAL INSTRUMENTS AS IF I HAD NO KNOWLEDGE OF THEM . “ HURRY ON GREAT ONE - BEFORE YOU COLLAPSE .”
I HAVE THE DOORS OF HER ROOM - ATTACH TO MINE . WAITING WAS NEVER A STRONG SUIT , NOT WHEN YOU’D BEEN ABLE ENCOMPASS EVERYTHING AT ONCE . “ HOW ABOUT YOU THINK OF WHAT YOU HAVE IN YOUR ARSENAL BEFORE YOU FLING THESE THINGS AROUND ” I POKE AT HER ARMS - PINCHING HER FINGERS TO LAUGH AT HER RAGE. IF ANYTHING WE WERE A COUPLE OF LOUSES MADE PERFECT IN HELL. AND I START WITH THE RUBBING ALCOHOL FOR THE FUN OF THAT.
a woman possessed, there is no telling from where the great bubbling forth of laughter came from or for, nor was there any stopping it as it rushed on more and more, filling her throat and spill out of a sore, smiling mouth. yet Charlotte could not deny the clear understanding that rang in her mind that the house played with her, that the story of her harmless scuffle was met with no worry, anger, or authoritarian disapproval. she went along with it, the merrymaking that was her second nature and that which this house has since seemed to taken up in its own way. with her head bowed and the still - pristine napkin held to her face, Charlotte looked something of a distraught mourner as she made her way to the sink, flipping open the medicine cabinet before she could catch her reflection in the glass - front. finally, the napkin was abandoned, falling into the sink with her blood smeared uselessly across it.
"DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN,"
she said, tipping antiseptic into a folded piece of gauze. there's a practiced rhythm to her movements, an ease in how she wields the tweezers and guides the gauze, discovering and promptly stinging the array of scratches across her knuckles. "WHAT'S THERE TO THINK ABOUT? NOT MY FIRST TIME. DOUBT IT'S MY LAST." one hand cleaned, the other now stinging, Charlotte took her eyes of the work of treating the deeper gashes on her right to look back through the door into her room. it'd grown lighter, a beautiful day now in full swing. she wondered if this house would allow her to rest while the sun shone so outside, whether it would be something it could abide. the bed, after all, did not look merely made. there was an air of being untouchable about the tightly tucked sheets and rounded pillows. a mere curiosity, however. Charlotte had no intention to rest. "WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO TODAY?"
.. ㅤ 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃, @pa-wn ㅤ ㅤ✶ ᵎᵎ ㅤ ㅤwhat's it look like i'm doing?
summer's end, colder nights and days shortened. the preparation for fall lands on the shoulders of those still around to cut trees and gather firewood before the frost turns bark into brittle. david's arm grew sore by the evening, he should've taken himself out innings ago. left the wielding to the woman who's made respite in his cabin faster than he'd normally let anyone. but she comes and goes, and he doesn't fuck around with asking where she ends up most of the time. best case scenario: the blonde is part of a group. people well off, thriving and functioning enough to let her bother him in this thing called downtime. something no one really has anymore. and when she leaves, she just returns to whatever chummy compound she lays her head. worst case scenario: charlotte likes the scatter. she's only here to watch him, to learn about him. to see where his tools are and what's sharp enough to split him open on the odd-chance she catches him with his back turned. the ex-champion doesn't try to dwell on either possibility too much.
"looks like you're gonna cut your damn arm off." then again, would it surprise him if that was the intention? by know david thinks charlotte would just grow a new one come the next time he sees her. a lizard in the fucking rockies, just his luck. he steps in, calloused hand reaching for the neck of the axe leaning against her shoulder. the blade slices the air just by her ear. it's plucked from her grasp, held away like she's been a bad dog chewing on his shit. "that's not— we're not lumber jacks. axe stays in front of you from now on."
" in front of you, you mean. " it is only his snatching of the axe that brings Charlotte the closest she's been to being cut open in the entirety of the time she's been splitting logs. not a single scratch, otherwise, mars her cool skin; no, in this vessel, the blood prefers to pool — to collect and sit still. perhaps, in this way, it counters the never - ending churning of restlessness in other pits and grooves inside the body. the same restlessness that doesn't allow her to feel relieved when the axe flies from her hands, when David leaves her with nothing to do. it's been a while since the sun's gone below the horizon yet it lingers enough to justify her wanting to crack apart one more log, just one more, one more, and one more. even in the almost perfect gloom, as she has been for a good half - hour. because now, her hands, mouth, and mind would need to take up other work, the only other work there ever is for her.
oddities and incongruencies begin to pile at the tip of her tongue, raring like the old crowds pressing up against a stadium gate, seemingly meant to bottleneck the excitement into order when really, it only wanted to make things worse. create a clamouring, create chaos.. and you have yourself something to use, something to win off of. there's a large piece of jagged tarp on the ground, blending in with the dirt under the mound of half - logs they'd tossed on it. Charlotte takes up two of the closest corners and lifts, the firewood tumbling towards the other side — David's side. " you ever seen an axe go through someone's foot? " she asks it with a casualness that doesn't suit the world anymore; hell, it's a casualness that barely suited the world before. it's as smooth as water running between fingers: nothing to catch onto or to clue into. and her smile is the same. " are we dragging or lifting? "
*
anna świrszczyńska
Sarah Pidgeon as Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy LOVE STORY Season 1, Episode 3: America's Widow
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︑︒⚬∙ 🌀︓ charlotte isn't bothered by the unpredictability and inconvenience of her sleep and insomnia. her relationship with sleep and the frequent lack or difficulty of it has its roots in the practical and perfunctory, as is the case with other elements of living / surviving made strange or difficult by vesselhood. she sleeps because she has to, and she understands the more regularly and healthily she sleeps, the better.. but seeing as this isn't reliably possible for her, she's not going to force or be upset about it.
she sleeps when and where she can; if either the circumstances or her own inherent insomnia prevents it, then she'll carry on or find other ways to rest / re-engergize her body. she makes use of the hours she doesn't lose to sleep rather than waste them on tossing and turning, wishing she could sleep. as her insomnia is not the condition in its typical, that is, wholly human form.. she has found she cannot help it through the usual medical recommendations. her particular "insomnia" is sporadic, nonsensical, not wholly tied to her body or mind, but is instead, at times, an internal disturbance that emerges from the interactions between Void and vessel.
at her best, charlotte keeps to the "normal" rhythm of approximately 6 to 8 hours of sleep during the night. charlotte, however, is rarely at her best. more likely, charlotte is sleeping 3 to 4 hours at night, sometimes even less, no matter what time she falls asleep. she will awake alert. if she can, she will sleep 20 to 40 minutes here and there, whenever and wherever she can, but if she can't find an opportunity, then it won't happen. she is also not opposed to sleeping during the day, if that's what needs to happen or if the sleepiness hits. in the most likely case of her charlotte waking in the middle of the night, unless she is expressly needed elsewhere or direly bored / restless, she may simply lie awake, in the dark, and rest her eyes for a (short) while. that, or she'll get an early start on the day and not bother with the bit of rest.
as this has been all she's known of sleep since spawning, charlotte has adapted to the irregularity of it well. it is not uncommon to wonder whether and when this agent ever sleeps because she seems to be up and about, available and raring, at all and any hours.. and without a single blemish against her standard bright, cheerful mood. her cognitive ability seems not to suffer, as it is assumed; and while her memory may be somewhat dodgy, no one's is perfect, is it? as for her seeing and hearing things, well, that's just the regular course for this agent and hers to keep to herself, as she does.
femzor | void III
