angels on my side | journal/dump
#21
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]note: add more history in the ten year gap u have girl. santos had to have experienced more than finding a snake and meeting a weird man named badger. throw in some more angst, y not
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#22
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]note: write abt santos’ ability to build relationships. what kind of people does he get along w? who tend to be his friends? what draws the line at cutting off people? is he confrontational when a friend does something he does not agree w? what rubs him the wrong way? what does he look for in a partner? is he even capable of romantic feelings when he’s seeing ryder’s ghost everywhere? past relationships? should he be promiscuous or open to one night stands? is he affectionate? etc.
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#23
[align=center][div style="width: 455px; text-align: justify; font-family: nyala; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #000"]Just gonna drop by with a track and say that this storage have such wonderful creations so far, as always! <3
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#24
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]:')) tysm ilu wow
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#25
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]loss struck santos at the mere age of two, taking from him the life of his mother. without his father in the picture, and no immediate family able to take him in, santos was placed in foster care. his young age allowed him a high likelihood to be adopted by a family, but for reasons undisclosed to him, time and time again, any attempts to adopt him were unfulfilled. as he aged, this percentage diminished. time and time again, santos was sat down and told the couple he had spent so much time with could not give him a home as they had told him. due to this, the young boy began to grow frustrated and confused, and feeling powerless, santos lashed out. he began to receive punishment for bad behavior in school, for getting into quarrels with the other children, and overall performing below average in terms of education and behavior. his chances continued to shrink. as he grew older, it all worsened, both his performance in school and his proneness to fights and arguments. santos would often come home with black eyes or busted lips, carrying within him a fire. the boy would never create a lasting/true bond with any foster parents or siblings he stayed with, seeing them all as temporary stops. any attempts to build a relationship with santos would result in him pushing away and becoming even more distant. due to this lack of any form of parental relationships, santos idolized his biological mom, which in turn led to santos' fascination with her religion and her language. this is where he read about spanish roman catholic saints and began to look up to them, as well as where he began to study spanish religiously.
as santos entered his teenage years, he began to build true friendships with a group of boys in his area that he would walk home from alternative school with. like him, they were prone to the same violence and all had stories similar to his own. at this same time, santos had begun attempts to run away from his foster homes, being placed in worse and worse ones in terms of neglect and disarray. he was caught time and time again, but by the age of 15, santos was pronounced a missing child. he found refuge in the friends he had made, who he discovered to be apart of a larger street gang. he stayed with them, and despite their violent and aggressive lifestyle, santos found true loyalty and brotherhood among them. they became his family. santos began to live in a life of drugs, sex, gang warfare, and pure aggression. he became accustomed to it quickly, and soon learned he had a certain skill for violence. it was not simply that he enjoyed it, but santos was inherently good at it.
santos grew especially close to two boys: ryder and deacon. ryder and he met in school, and he was one of the prominent reasons santos decided to join the gang. ryder was a fiery boy, with messy blonde hair and dark blue eyes like the ocean, he held santos' heard in his palm. the two were inseparable, and though their romantic relationship was very lowkey, their love for one another was anything but. deacon, on the other hand, joined the gang later on. he was a boy of about 12, with long messy hair and bright eyes. despite the boys' irritation with a kid around, deacon's stubbornness proved to even beat theirs, and his defiance was so great they couldn't held but admire. soon enough, the gang was teaching deacon all about the streets, and he came to know them just as well as the boys. he often ran errands for the boys, earning his nickname, "conejito," given by santos, which translates to "little rabbit," due to his small size and agility. deacon was a major help to them in reality, and he found a family in the gang. santos grew especially close with deacon, having dealt with younger kids his whole time spend in the system. he was more often than not, the one to grab deacon from any trouble and lecture his ear off, though not without deacon's adamant counterarguments. they were legendary at keeping an argument going, but they were extremely close. santos grew to teach deacon many life lessons and did his best to guide the boy. all three boys were tight-knit and became one another's family.
when santos was 18, the blackout hit. the gang was able to easily adapt, having already grown accustomed to a life of crime and survival. soon, though, the issue of desperation seeped into their plans. droughts of resources became a threat, and one night they planned to raid a convenience store within a rival gang's territory. despite it being thoroughly planned, the night quickly turned sour. warfare broke out, and in the end, the rival gang raided the store instead after shooting 5 members of santos' group down. of them all, santos was the lone survivor of the group that attacked. of these losses, ryder was one of them, santos' closest friend/love interest. the two were extremely close, and santos loved ryder, though he had not explored his sexuality yet, so the duo's love for one another was cloaked and unspoken. santos sat in the destroyed convenience store with ryder as he bled out, surrounded by his dead and dying friends. after this, santos became reckless and dangerously violent, so much so that one night, the remnants of the gang abandoned him, seeing him as a threat to their safety. ever since, santos has been fending for himself in the apocalypse of the world, before joining the badlands.
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#26
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]jackie notes
- perfectly manicured and polished nails holding a pistol
- eternally stuck in this sort of rage due to injustices done to her. seeking a vengeance she will never achieve
- feels in extremes. rage, grief, hostility, etc.
- Hates being touched unless you have a previously established relationship w/ her
- beautiful, violent, vulgar
- "i am the sea i drown in"
- "times are tough, but i am tougher. i'll be fine."
- owns a black cat named church (pet semetary)
- will probably bully u once weekly
- capable of extremely twisted and unspeakable acts
- merciless once you have become her marked man
- became the reaper she always longed to be / needed when she was younger
- guardian angel to some // demon to others
- probably smoking 24/7. joint or cigarette, doesnt matter
- extremely skilled in shooting. sharpshooter
- created, not born
- enjoys drawing/painting as well as gardening
- black wavy hair, warm skin, slender frame, dark eyes, around 5'7?

> pinterest board
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#27
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%; font-family:georgia; text-transform:lowercase"][i]Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. It was popularised in the 1960s with the release of Letraset sheets containing Lorem Ipsum passages, and more recently with desktop publishing software like Aldus PageMaker including versions of Lorem Ipsum.

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#28
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%; font-family:georgia; text-transform:lowercase"][i]there had not been a sudden turning point in which jackie snapped. there was no major, life-changing event that broke her, nor sudden day that she felt the universe unchained her. rather, this change had come slowly, as any change in nature does. perhaps this seed had long lived inside her, buried just under her skin. as time passed, it grew, slow and gradual, building a pressure within her. it would eventually grow to fill her being, to swell and pull her skin taunt, rising and rising until it burst, pouring from her pores and cascading down her skin, forever staining the once unmarked girl.

every mark, every blow, every push had fueled this change. gone was the quiet, basket case of a girl who swallowed her pride and did as she was asked. gone was the girl who went out of her way to appease her peers, always careful to not trod on anyone’s toes, always apologetic when faced with dilemma. the warmth in her smile had been replaced with a chilled imitation. her presence was known and announced not with words, but with her aura alone. she walked like a god and accordingly bowed her head to no one. she stepped unflinchingly onto the toes of others, clad in stilettos. her words were venom and her touch poisonous. electricity flowed in her bloodstream.

those who knew this was not the girl she had once been regarded her with glassy eyes. she was known as a tragedy to them. but jackie was no tragedy. she had blossomed into the reaper she had always called on in her youth. she had become the person she had needed when she was a child. jackie did not regard herself with the idea of a lost girl tainted by some non-good, but rather as a refined being who had been granted freedom from the restraints of her bringing up. her unwavering ferocity was a sport, but she was not playing a game.
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#29
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%; font-family:georgia; text-transform:lowercase"]tw: heavy gore

the gun discharged with an ear shattering pulse, kicking back in her palms. blood splattered like rain upon her face, dusting her skin with crimson. just as her finger left the trigger, she twirled the digit back, flipping the pistol and grasping the muzzle, bringing the heavy base down in a swift movement to strike her attacker's crown with a grunt, eliciting a disturbing thud of flesh. the bullet had embedded itself into the man's hand- tearing a hole straight through what he had foolishly thought a barrier between himself and death.
no worry, jackie thought to herself, i like a fighter.[i] she thrust her trigger finger into the man's wound as he screamed out.

the man's face was stained with tears and his own blood, his eyes bloodshot and sweat brimming his forehead. the woman reached for her carving knife from her belt, holding the weapon tightly in her hand. the man reared up from the ground- which jackie chalked up to his adrenaline finally switching from flight to fight. fucking coward. his weight shoved her back, knocking her onto her ass momentarily as he heaved himself to his feet. "crazy bitch!" he shouted, grasping his injured hand, blood pouring down his forearm. big mistake. in the moment he took to speak, jackie lurched forward, one hand grasping his calf as the other sliced the blade through his achilles tendon. a man's pride was always his downfall- always having to have the last word. idiots.

the man screamed again, and jackie smirked, pulling him down into the dirt with her. god bless she wore her cargo pants today- fighting in those high-waist skinny jeans was always a nightmare, she thought to herself as she swung herself over her victim. her arms raised high, both hands clutching her knife, and with the same determined swiftness, she delivered the blow with a squelch of flesh and blood. the blade sunk deep into the man's sternum, and she twisted the knife, eyes glued on her victim's, watching his face distort in pain. flipping the knife back through the torn flesh, she let out a grunt as she forced the knife down his abdomen towards her, jaw clenching as she utilized her muscle. his cries continued as she finally stopped at his belly button, her breath ragged, sweat running down her temples. her eyes had never left his face.

jackie sheathed the knife back into it's rightful place, and she took a moment to catch her breath as the man below her continued his weakening sobs of pain. she swung her legs from atop him, worried his blood would stain her pants. inspecting her stained hands, she wiped them on the man's upper chest before she ran her hands through her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail. people should at least let her tie her hair back before attacking her- it was inconsiderate in the least. she took her time, pulling out her baby hairs to frame her face as the man beside her lie crying, blood soaking into the earth. she eventually rose to her feet, calmly locating her gun and holstering it, and scanning the area for any other belongings.

jackie picked up the man's backpack, shouldering it onto her back and clipping the straps around her waist. adjusting her belt to the new pressure, jackie turned to look back at the dying man, her face blank. after a silent pause, she slowly took a few steps towards him before placing the bottom of her boot upon his face. she tilted her foot backwards, angling the heel of her boot atop one of his eyes, and with a bend of her knees, she forced the heel down into the eye, ruining it with minimal effort. his cries intensified, though jackie paid little attention to him. she shook her boot absentmindedly, ridding some of the remains from her heel with a frown.

with that, jackie determined her work finished. she adjusted her newly acquired backpack upon her shoulders, and continued her stroll through the woods, headed back towards her camp, wondering if her cat churchhill had tore into the new bag of kibble while she was away.

// sO rushed and sloppy, but i wanted to write jackie's darker capabilities and highlight her complete disregard and lack of empathy when killing
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