#helltownohiohq

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

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

faceclaim: phoebe tonkin

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

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

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

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

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

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

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.