KINGDOM RIGHT WHERE WE ARE — PRIVATE; CAM

[recycling bin]

/ second paragraph is actually the only important one lmao this post is Awful

Time seems to still, soft and silent. Everywhere not here, everyone not them— frozen, to afford them a few stolen moments, to let them breathe in and catch up to the gears and screws dragging life firmly onward. There's a warmth creeping up her back, chasing away the biting cold, spreading over her shoulders like a blanket, like safety. The universe, vast and impassive and cruel, seems for once to smile, look down on them, and paint its skies in a soft glow. Here, the world pulses on in rose gold. Here, light grows brighter with sunset's approach. Here, she's here. The mattress sinks under Stevie's weight, palms splaying across the sheets, feet tracing the floor with feather lightness. Her eyes track every movement, every gesture, that she makes, and it feels like coming home to finally look at her. Even so, she feels— strange. Like riding a bicycle without training wheels for the first time. The drop in her stomach, the waiting for a fall. This is new, this. And she doesn't know what's coming next.

Her sketchbook lies just out of reach on the bed; if she stretched her hand out she could almost touch it, almost brush her fingers on the edge. She didn't clean her room up before getting cornered by a certain asshat whose love life she meddled in (no regrets) and cleaning it up now feels like a chore. Which it is, but more of a chore than normal. Still, she thanks the fucking Gods for Win's intervention, even if it was aggravating at the time. They wouldn't be here now if it weren't for him. Perhaps he's only returning the favor. "Hey," she says, less breaking the silence than filling it. "You wanna know what I named her?" Stevie gestures toward the cat who followed them into the room, now curling up contemptuously on her cat bed. In hindsight, that sounds like a weird choice of conversation, especially considering what happened barely half an hour ago. Mentally kicking herself, she resigns to waiting for Cam's answer, heart picking up pace in anticipation.

The clash in the kitchen made her think she and Cam, two stubborn assholes with too much fucking pride, would never repair. They'd never go back to before, much less go forward into a path that Stevie thought too impossible to hike through. In a way, she was right— they would never go back to before. Something-something, life moves on, the planet keeps turning, but not only because of that. Because they did go forward, they did blaze that trail. She'd been too damn scared to say anything, even before the fight, even before the drugs, and look at them now. Her only regret is that, for someone so reckless, she didn't take the leap sooner.

---

[spoiler=information — 2017/02/26]— pm main account to plot.
— all opinions + choices ic.

recent news.
— escaped the badlands and returned to flintlock lodge.
— losing security in her moral compass; aimless, subdued.
— figuring out her relationship with camael; uncertain.

general | pinterest board
— stevonna barbara jones | "stevie, steve" | vastly prefers stevie
— female | she/her | intersex dmab | usually presents as masc
— biromantic bisexual | questioning aro/ace | female preference
— about 21 years old | d.o.b.: july 4th [cancer] | every 3 months
— member of flintlock lodge | former member of the badlands

important notes
— she's a stubborn asshole who will fight™ i apologize for her.
— doesn't make friends easily; a little standoffish. again, sorry.

physical
— health: 80%-90% | doing better; still malnourished, exhausted
— face-claim: shalita grant | voice-claim: anika noni rose [tiana]
— short, chubby, and somewhat toned. about 5'1 [1.55 meters].
— rich dark brown skin with warm undertones. dark brown eyes.
— thick curly black hair; currently in dreadlocks mid-back length.
— all curves. wide nose, plush lips, soft jawline, round cheeks.
— nondescript scars from minor injuries, mostly on knuckles.
— likes snapback caps, sneakers, sweatshirts, and sweatpants.
— injuries: a few bruises and scrapes, but nothing major.

mental | good is not nice | good is not soft | jerk with a heart of gold
— health: 70%-80% | paranoid, sleep-deprived, and struggling
— gryffindor primary/gryffindor secondary | chaotic good | infp-t
— principled; lives by her moral code, keeps it close to her heart.
— proud, unyielding. doesn't know how to forgive or to apologize.
— blunt, straightforward. scornful/wary of deceit and manipulation.
— sticks close to her people; rarely goes out of her way to befriend.
— values her independence and [usually] aggressively defends it.
— averse to asking for help. grudgingly accepts it from close friends.
— quick to judge, somewhat aloof. doesn't play well with others.
— surprisingly introverted; needs time and space alone to recharge.
— scrappy little shit. will fight you, will fight your dog, will fight herself.
— reckless daredevil except when the safety of others is involved.

possessions
— carmilla; black norwegian forest cat with yellow eyes; ref.
— sturdy wooden baseball bat; this is her primary weapon.
— rough leather gloves; provides easy, but still flexible grip.
— a rainbow-patterned backpack that looks close to death.
— all clothes are faded and worn; some are slightly damaged.

relationships
— singleish? | crushing on camael and megaera | no "maybe" crushes
— ½ of camvie [br?otp; camael + stevie] | 1/? of the batfam [cool aunt]
— npc x npc | generation 1 | younger child | status of family unknown

interaction
— physically medium | mentally easy | self-trained
— sloppy, but tough | aims for head, torso, and neck
— may start fights | will finish fights | will show mercy
— won't torture/sexually assault | may [rarely] maim/kill
— no medical skills whatsoever; useless in that respect.
— nonviolent/peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
— • likely won't appreciate unfamiliar touch.
— unconditional contact allowed from the following:
— • bruce, camael, damian, dick, megaera.
— attack in BOLDED BLACK CAPITAL LETTERS.[/spoiler]

[jayus]

Camael hasn't felt this good in a long, long time.

The most recent memory she can recall would be when Clint had still been alive. And even that couldn't compare; you couldn't size up two different feelings of...whatever she felt now. She's not good with emotions, hadn't been since she'd been younger, but she can describe this feeling with memories. This recalls a time where she would spend her days picking daisies and mingled weeds to present to her father with a gap-toothed smile. This recalls a time where the furry weight of a dog made her legs numb with warmth. This recalls a time where a bandaid collection became quickly depleted, the cartoon characters applied to knees and elbows with a gentle and sure touch. This recalls, this recalls, this recalls...but it's a whole new experience entirely. She feels like floating, an unseen burden having been lifted from her shoulders.

So, yeah. Thanks, Win. She's glad she didn't slap him.

"Hm?" she responds, too immersed in looking around to say much of anything else. Her gaze falls on the sketchbook, lingering. She's curious, who wouldn't be? Art showed more of what you felt and who you were than words did, in her opinion. Cam almost wants to ask, but this was all so new - she didn't know how extensive the boundaries were. The cat is a safe subject for now. Even if it was giving her the dirtiest look.

(shush it is a gouda post....mine on the other hand rip)

[spoiler=info | updated 1/29][size=12px]GENERAL:
▪ Camael Bishop | "Cam"
▪ Biromantic, bisexual | DFAB; she/her
▪ DOB: June 7th
▪ Resident of Flintlock Lodge

RELATIONSHIPS:
▪ Single | One crush; no "maybe" crushes
▪ ½ Camvie [Cam & Stevie]
▪ NPC x NPC
▪ Loyalties lie with people, not clans/groups. Denies being sentimental, but gets emotionally attached to others very easily. She will find it difficult to detach from toxic relationships, but with time, will develop a strong grudge against them to cope.

IMPORTANT FACTS/RECENT:
▪ Recovering drug addict.
▪ No current voice or faceclaim.

PHYSICAL:
— Health: 80%
— Cam is shorter than average, just barely clearing the 5' mark. She is often poorly nourished and her inadequate diet has taken its toll on her; her ribs are quite noticeable, although rigorous exercise is adding muscle and helping to conceal them.
— Her black hair is thick and frizzy, often tied up or pulled back into braids as she considers it a hassle. When let down, it streams down her shoulders and is messily cut; the ends are more jagged and sloppy. Being biracial, her skin is naturally dark and she has dark brown eyes.
— She has burns on her hands, the scars shiny and blistered. They are wrapped with gauze from the wrist to the affected palms. Other small colorful bandaids wrap around her fingers, not due to actual wounds, but purely for sentimental and aesthetic reasons.
— Injuries: Burns on hands, smaller scratches and pricks on her legs.

PERSONALITY:
— Independent and impulsive, she prefers to blindly make (often rash) decisions based on her emotions in time-sensitive or urgent situations. Thinking too much about the potential consequences stresses her out greatly.
— She is rather obstinate and will not be easily swayed to change her opinion. If convinced and her opinion changes, however, it will not be verbalized for her pride's sake. (You aren't going to get a "you were right, I was wrong" from her.) Pride just might be her fatal flaw; she dislikes admitting defeat or wrongdoing and will usually only apologize (begrudgingly) if forced to.
— Her pleasant demeanor fades when engaged in battle. She becomes stony and emotionless, wholly focused on defending herself as she takes her time to analyze and strategize. She is not as impulsive in these situations and will not throw blind punches; her strikes land where she intends them to land. Her pride is at stake here; she will not lose because of any foolish mistakes on her part. It is hard to hold her back and becomes impossible at a certain point, but it is unlikely she will regret any acts of violence, even if she is beaten badly.

POSSESSIONS:
— A worn Jansport with miscellaneous pins lining fraying straps. Contains the following:
▪ A serrated knife. Bent, but kept clean and in decent shape.
▪ An extra pair of too-big undergarments; two undershirts.
▪ Two thin long-sleeved shirts, one t-shirt.
▪ An extra pair of jeans.
▪ A roll of gauze and a small box of Batman band-aids.
▪ A torn and yellowed letter, its writing nearly illegible.

INTERACTION:
▪ Mostly self-trained. | Moderate physically, moderate mentally.
▪ Strategic; slow but precise. Numerous but weak hits to any vulnerable area she can spot.
▪ Attack in bold italics.
▪ Can powerplay peaceful or nonviolent actions.
[/spoiler]