[div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify;"]something doesn't feel right. maybe it's the chill in the air, or the knife strapped to his hip that is dangerously close to slicing into his thigh. is it the snow that's soaking into the holes that are worn into his boots? his sock is soaked, it's not a very good feeling, with summer turning to fall, while the mountain had already begun to collect snow. the snow that didn't stick now sat in puddles as he traversed the path upwards towards a lodge he had heard of some months back. he struggled with the wagon that he pulled behind him, what little he owned rolling around with each turn and each pull. on in his belt, a calk board was tied securely with a stick of chalk and a small eraser, ready to be written on.
one last pull over a slope settled him on flat ground, snow still beginning to build and puddle on the landscape that led to a lodge, just as he'd been told. head cocking to the side, he pulled his wagon so it would've slide down that sloping ridge that led down the mountain. if his wagon decided to slip down that, it would be disastrous, considering he refused to climb up that mountain ever again. pulling the side off his wagon, he sat on the edge of it and settled, his chalk board settled neatly in his lap with the chalk at the ready, if he needed to write.
hopefully someone here knew how to read. if not, he could draw just fine- or enough to get his point across. as he waited, he slowly wrote out his name, making sure each letter was neat and written exactly how he was taught- DARSY. he was never taught the lowercase letters, but he was slowly but surely learning all of that through books, though, books were hard to come by these days, especially ones that taught the alphabet. the crunch of snow under a foot caught his attention, and he quickly drew an arrow upwards, pointing towards him, and wrote a new line quickly. DO YOU HAVE ROOM?
[align=center]writing | "speech" | normal
[align=center] UP ON MELACHOLY HILL ✩‧₊˚
[align=center] She hadn't been here at the lodge for long herself. It was meant to be a short stop, just to rest until she was ready to set out again, but she found it difficult to bring herself to leave. It was such a nice place once you took a look past the harsh climate and unwelcoming terrain. Very different compared to where she came from, that much was sure.
Naomi wasn't too sure what brought her outside that day, but there she was nevertheless, trudging through piles of snow that were more slush than anything. Once it got colder they were sure to have plenty of proper snow, which excited her but also made her uneasy at the same time.
She was brought out of those despairing thoughts, though, when she spotted something ahead of her. Pulling her coat tighter around her, the woman made her way over to check things out, only to find a boy sitting on what she presumed to be his wagon. A friendly, albeit slightly concerned smile lit up her face.
"Hey there. Whatcha doin' out here by yourself? It's colder than a witch's tit!" She chuckles softly at herself, only then thinking to read what he had written on his board. "Darsy, is that right? Well, of course we have room! I think." she says uncertainly, rubbing at her arms when a particularly cold breeze flows by. "I haven't been here long myself, but I don't think anyone would mind if ya wanted to come in outta the cold."
[div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify;"]a woman was the first to greet him- it's a bit strange, not seeing the blue dress and aprons that he's so used to, but he simply gave a friendly little wave, eyes shinning like she was the first person he'd seen in years. she was probably the first friendly one, at the very least. round eyes, a sweet little smile, and without too much thought, he figured he'd end up liking her. hell, he had to like someone, right? tapping the chalk board with his bit of chalk, as he waited for her to read.
an enthusiastic nod- his name was dawson, technically, but he had introduced himself as darsy. he wouldn't blame her for not knowing, how could she know? he wiped the board clean before starting a new line of text, careful lettering placed on the board with the light squeak of chalk that made his nose scrunch slightly. YES COLD. FINGERS NUMB. it was exceptionally hard to write when he couldn't quite feel the limbs he was writing with, but he wouldn't complain too much, so he moved onto the next line.
MAY I? turning the board to her, he managed to get back to his feet, finding the woman was a good deal taller than him- who wasn't taller than him, these days? it seemed that just about everyone was several inches taller, but he guessed he would always have his wit.. hoped, at least, since it didn't seem like he was going to be getting much taller.
[align=center]writing | "speech" | normal
[align=center] UP ON MELACHOLY HILL ✩‧₊˚
[align=center][div style="width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; font-family: calibri; letter-spacing: .6px; color: #494949;"]very slowly, but surely, joey’s mental health is recovering. she’s not as numb anymore and has gotten her skill in covering up everything going on inside back. she’s shoved the grudging feelings deep within herself, now they only boil over in fleeting moments, moments where she only loses control for a few seconds before she recomposes herself. venturing out is much more common now, even at times with rosie when she’s unable to pass the infant off to someone else.
joey’s making her way to the village, poorly swaddled baby in her arms, intending on surveying the stock of everything in preparation for heavy snow. foraging would be even worse having to trudge and dig through densely packed snow. she tries to watch her footing with the puddles everywhere. her child makes a little whine, making joey scowl and let out a puff of a breath, “ what could you possibly want, “ she grumbles under her breath, eyes rolling to the back of her head. upon lifting her head, joey spots two people she’s never seen before; granted, because of her self isolation in the last month they could have been in flintlock for awhile.
attention diverted, joey starts to walk over to the man and woman, an eyebrow raised. “ [color=#990000]joiners? “ she questions, knowing that the whole lodge is on high alert until aiden’s murderer is found; she’s just playing the part, joey knows exactly who it was, but she’s not jeopardizing herself in giving him up. joey catches a little bit of his board that asks if they have room. her eyes narrow a bit, confused on why he’s just not speaking. “ [color=#990000]we always have room, “ she answers simply. “ [color=#990000]i’m joey, “
being only twenty-one, she’s lucky to know how to read and write, having been only one when the blackout happened. but, that’s to be expected with her immense privilege, although she doesn’t remember a lot of her early life, the van doren’s lived a life of luxury for quite some time while the rest of the world fell, only losing it with the fire that took their parents and home.
[spoiler=tags, updated 08/24/2020]◜BASICS ┊ [color=#990000]I HAD A DREAM◞
&. ❝ josephine elena van doren ❞ | joey, joy, hoey | female [ she/her ] .
&. 21 years old . | november first ; scorpio .
&. reaper of flintlock lodge .
◜PERSONALITY ┊ GOT EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED◞
&. impulsive . outgoing . femme fatale . flirtatious . seemingly emotionless . guarded . self-destructive . obsessive . hot headed . reckless . kleptomania tendencies . selfish . brat . assertive . loyal to those close to her . intuitive . stubborn . passionate . self-preserving . quick . nosey . reliable . non-committal . determined . secretive . resentful . resourceful . distrusting .
◜ APPEARANCE ┊ NOT WHAT YOU THINK ◞
&. five foot six & one hundred and seventeen pounds ; reference .
↳ blonde hair just past her collarbone, grows a dirtier blonde, lightening up as soon as any sun touches it .
↳ slim, muscular build. legs on the longer side .
↳ big blue/green doe eyes, light yet well-groomed eyebrows, full lips, dimples .
◜ INTERACTIONS ┊ AND IF I’M BEING HONEST ◞
&. [ 8/10 ] physically | [ 9/10 ] psychologically .
↳ difficulty w/ guns [ medium ] | difficulty w/ melees [ hard ] | difficulty w/ hand-to-hand [ hard ]
↳ combat information .
&. attack in bold #990000 | [member=570]scully[/member] | PM for any major plots .
&. friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed .
◜INVENTORY ┊ IT MIGHT’VE BEEN A NIGHTMARE◞
&. [ 2 ] weapons | [ 0 ] armor pieces | [ 0 ] consumables | [ 2 ] aid items | [ 1 ] misc .
↳ one combat knife .
↳ a three piece throwing knife set
↳ one german short-haired pointer puppy, demetri
↳ one english setter puppy, robin
↳ a bracelet from her late mother, each one of her sisters has a piece to the same set, their mother having the biggest piece
◜ RELATIONSHIPS ┊ TO ANYONE WHO MIGHT CARE◞
&. elizabeth van doren (npc) x malcolm van doren (npc) | second youngest of nine children .
↳ cassian van doren, eldest, flintlock .
↳ beau van doren, second eldest, unknown .
↳ range rover van doren, unknown & scarlett van doren, dead .
↳ auden van doren, unknown & tara van doren, dead .
↳ maxine van doren, just older than joey, flintlock .
↳ richard van doren, youngest, flintlock .
&. pansexual, panromantic ; mongamous . | scared of commitment, however enjoys casual fun .
&. mother to rosalie willa van doren, one month old . [/spoiler]
I DON'T BELONG TO ANYONE,
[size=9pt] BUT EVERYBODY KNOWS MY NAME —— INFO
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