lunacassidy

[lunacassidy]

where: her office when: end of the day whom: @eilidhodea

Another fucking day over and she still felt like it was going to last hours. She'd been thinking about getting out for a drink since 7 am (shut up, not an alcoholic, you can't convince her) but had maintained herself well enough.

Practice had taken its toll on everyone. The weather was nasty, and though it hadn't really rained there was a heavy, misty drizzle that hung in the air. One girl had slid on the pitch so hard she was now resting with an ice pack on a nasty bruise that ran from her knee to her hip, but...

Her girls were tough.

Luna herself had gotten sweatier than she'd wanted and had taken the time to hit the showers they had, mostly for players, and change into something more comfortable and more her. She'd asked Eilidh to come in because...

Well, because. She doesn't play favorites, mind you, but Eilidh's still probably her favorite. She sees a lot of herself in the other and, honestly, isn't sure if that's a good or bad thing some days. She had to do the check-in on how she was doing with everything anyway...

Make sure she was on the straight and narrow...

... not that she minded personally.

The knock at the door came soft and she hoped, PRAYED that it was Ei and not someone else, "Yeah, I'm here."

[lunacassidy]

She hated feeling like an asshole. Luna had, up until that point, considered herself on her best behavior and still somehow ended up feeling like an asshole as Harold looked at her. She got the distinct feeling that he just didn't like her, and perhaps the first impression hadn't been the best but she honestly felt like he probably wouldn't have liked her anyway. Something about him...

And then he opened his mouth and she blinked slowly, listening to his words and managing the world's most pathetic placating smile as she ate shit and chose not to lash out at him; he could think what he wanted and, just for today, she'd allow that to happen without recourse. Well, unless he really tried to push her buttons.

"I am a fighter and I'll fight for these women until my last breath. They go out there every time and give it their all, just as much as the men, and yet they get half the attendance of a men's game if we're lucky." Luna said, surprisingly eloquent and poised (if still a bit 'snarky' in its overall tone because she really hated that divide) and all the while maintaining eye contact, "You can bring up my past, you can talk about where I came from and what I went through, I just don't want to get blindsided in there."

He was right about her being a fighter, perhaps more than he knew. The underground fight clubs had not yet become a public record thing and, hopefully anyways, never would. She was a mess wrapped in a trainwreck locked in trauma but she was good at compartmentalizing and hiding that for the most part. Drinking helped.

God she wanted a drink, "You know what, it's fine. You can bring up whatever you need without my permission if it will get people in seats to watch Arsenal do what they do."

lunacassidy​:

“It’s how I see it. No one seems to care about us much most of the time. Girls are out there busting their asses day in and day out and…” Luna heard her tone, she saw the look on his face and, loath as she was to admit it, she’d promised to try harder. Ugh, swallowing her pride was always the most bitter tasting shit in the world, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be rude to you it’s not your fault.”

But wasn’t it? Couldn’t she easily blame this man who probably didn’t want this in his news any more than anyone else. She knew this place was more ‘classy’ than the tabloids but their team wasn’t exactly trash to be peddled. She was proud of how far the Arsenal WFC had come and… she guessed for the men, too. She had pride in her team because they were just that: HER team.

Luna crossed, still feeling a bit awkward trying to look professional (and also be sober, if we’re honest), to find the seat she was offered. A moment was spent sat as casually as she could, before she shifted and crossed one leg over the other, posture a little straighter; she was representing not just herself, after all.

“That should be fine. You’re not going to go too personal on this, I assume? I’ve had some dark times in my past and I’d rather not parade them around. I can talk about my history in the sport in the uh… vague, but I really want to focus on what we’ve been doing recently in the now.” Luna was trying to handle PR, this couldn’t turn out well, could it?

.

“If you refuse to appear in the news,” puff piece or not, “I don’t see how that’s going to change,” he paused, and though he smiled, it lacked the warmth he reserved to those dear to him. Quite frankly, it wasn’t much of a smile, but rather something akin to a grimace. Of all people who worked their ass off, footballers weren’t the ones who deserved the most the attention, if you asked him. Farmers were working harder, as were factory workers, and for a salary way below these women, and way, way below these men. “If we want to give the platform to those who deserve it the most, then let me completely remove politicians and entertainers from our screens,” he retorted, leaning into his seat.

“One step at a time,” he agreed. “You’re paving the way for the future,” she was. The more women’s sports were put in display, the more people would consider them, and the more they’d get coverage. It was inevitable. A long wait, but inevitable.

He picked up his notes, Lydia’s notes. She’d done her research, and highlighted all the important elements regarding the Arsenal coach, the good and the bad. “I thought you didn’t want this to be  a puff piece,” his eyebrow quirked up, and hints of amusement tugged at the corner of his lips. “We’re not going to turn it into a juicy trial. This isn’t the sort of channel we are,” still, he hope she understood that he couldn’t just highlight all the good without mentioning her background. “It’s not a portrait of you, but I’ll ask where you get all that will to fight, because that’s what comes out the most from my notes. You’re a fighter, on the pitch and now on the bench.” He looked her in the eyes. “We have to exploit that. People assume women’s football is less technical, and less brutal. Maybe it’s time we show people it’s not?”

[lunacassidy]

DOOM PATROL — Youth Patrol (S04E05) ››› Diane Guerrero as Jane Morris

[lunacassidy]

DOOM PATROL — Orqwith Patrol (S04E06) ››› Diane Guerrero as Jane Morris ››› Wynn Everett as Shelley Byron / The Fog

[lunacassidy]

Luna should have been home hours ago, but sometimes the late nights turned into early mornings and she did a veritable walk of shame through parts of the city on her way home. She never felt unsafe, mind you, because even when she was drunk she could fuck someone's world up, but it still didn't feel good to get the glare of the morning sudden in your eyes as you pass through the space between two buildings.

It was even less pleasant when someone loses their shit on their own phone like a lunatic and you catch it with your drunk-ass eyes and are trying to process just how shitfaced you got. Dante's actions were... spirited, to say the least. That wasn't any kind of accident, that was on purpose and she'd know because she'd destroyed more than her fair share of phones (hers and otherwise) in her lifetime.

"Yeah, gonna pass on that one, mate. You seem to have some rage issues going on and I'm not relishing the idea of replacing my phone because you got a bad response or whatever the fuck is going on. But uh.. are you like straight? You're going to be okay and not go off on a killing spree because I don't have the mental fortitude to perfectly remember your face when they pull me in for questioning and that would be a drag."

Luna was so cavalier about everything. You'd think she were immortal with the way she just spoke to people, but underneath it all the honest truth was that she didn't care enough about herself on a personal level to worry after her own safety. No matter how confident and sure of herself she was, part of that assuredness was in her own failures and the way she doesn't deserve good things.

"... I might throw up, for what it's worth... just as a warning. The sun's killing me right now." Luna didn't sound as drunk as she was, having perfected long ago the art of speaking like she always did even when blitzed; what a skill to know.

Ding

It had to be her. The mobile phone was glued to his hand, left an impression from how long it had been held, a callus forming in the pad of his palm from how many times it twisted around in wait. It twisted once more, screen up, lit up and dashing across Dante's face. Nothing. No. He heard that. He knew better. His thumb swiped at it, wild animal that's been taught one trick for the zoo, pouncing through the screens, closing them out, reopening, refreshing, reviewing, flicking off a speck of ash from the cigarette that dangled above by the edge of his lips with revolt.

Good morning

And no reply? It was noon.

Dante's cigarette was snatched away from his mouth, twirled between fingers, the smoke weaving through him. Once upon a time he hated the smell. Hated everything about it. Hated how it made his lungs feel like they were on fire. The cough that always lingered. But she liked it. The burning tip smashed into his thumb, baptizing the thin layer of skin that had covered over the old too familiar with the ritual.

SMASH

Good morning flickered, cracks formed from the impact against a brick wall, now lying helpless in the alleyway. Dante's breath was taken, siphoned out of him, a grey mist expelling his boiling point. For a moment, his mind cleared. He needed that, even if it was witnessed by another… a type of company that was unplanned for.

"I'm sorry about that…" he began, kneeling down to pick up the pieces. "I really have the worst luck..." Second burner this month.

Ding

Eyes glanced up, hovering up at the person for a moment before offering a breath of a laugh. "You wouldn't mind if I could borrow yours for a moment?"

[lunacassidy]

"It's how I see it. No one seems to care about us much most of the time. Girls are out there busting their asses day in and day out and..." Luna heard her tone, she saw the look on his face and, loath as she was to admit it, she'd promised to try harder. Ugh, swallowing her pride was always the most bitter tasting shit in the world, "Sorry, I shouldn't be rude to you it's not your fault."

But wasn't it? Couldn't she easily blame this man who probably didn't want this in his news any more than anyone else. She knew this place was more 'classy' than the tabloids but their team wasn't exactly trash to be peddled. She was proud of how far the Arsenal WFC had come and... she guessed for the men, too. She had pride in her team because they were just that: HER team.

Luna crossed, still feeling a bit awkward trying to look professional (and also be sober, if we're honest), to find the seat she was offered. A moment was spent sat as casually as she could, before she shifted and crossed one leg over the other, posture a little straighter; she was representing not just herself, after all.

"That should be fine. You're not going to go too personal on this, I assume? I've had some dark times in my past and I'd rather not parade them around. I can talk about my history in the sport in the uh... vague, but I really want to focus on what we've been doing recently in the now." Luna was trying to handle PR, this couldn't turn out well, could it?

lunacassidy​:

Did she want to be there? Fuck no. Was she showing up because it was important to her girls? Ugh, fuck yes. The problem with coaching a winning team was you ended up getting news coverage. She knew that not everyone was as invested in the WFC as they were the men’s but she knew full well that on a slow news week they’d latch onto anything positive in these kinds of times. So there she sat, surly and annoyed but… at least she was there.

She’d put on something akin to nice clothing, actually looking quite dapper even if she couldn’t afford actual couture and some of the things she wore were blatant knock-offs, it said something that she could afford the knock-offs in her position. She felt silly having bothered to dress for this, but it seemed important and now she loathed herself for the act of caring so much. The war was already brewing in her veins and in her head.

She’d been waiting what felt like ages, about to blow a gasket — literally a hairsbreadth from standing up and stomping out like a petulant child — when the man himself emerged and she lofted a brow. The anger was replaced by confusion. Don’t these people usually have others to fetch for them? Whatever, at least he was here.

“Yeah, I’m the coach of the Arsenal Women’s FC. There was something about needing some interview shots of me for a puff piece.” They probably hadn’t said puff piece, but Luna wasn’t one to mince her words; she knew why she was there and she knew it mattered zero to most people.

If it seemed like she didn’t want to be there, it’s because she didn’t and she had limits to what she’d pretend for the sake of her girls.

“A puff piece. Is that how they put it?” Did this look like the Sun’s editorial floor? If they had an editorial line at all. He didn’t consider trash to be journalism, but apparently, the people disagreed and those kitchen rags sold very easily. If that didn’t tell him all he needed to know about the common folk… “I would rather say they want to put the spotlight on your team,” he didn’t spare her a smile, already jaded by her attitude. This was going to be lots of fun, wasn’t it? “Arsenal’s having a good year, and this time, it’s not just the ladies making it to the Top 4.” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t have Majano instead, but perhaps the Spanish coach wanted nothing to do with them. The press had been harsh with him after all, with his 8th and 5th place in the Premiere League those past two years. Anyhow, the guy wasn’t there, she was and was displaying the sort of attitude he’d expect from her male counterpart.

Though he obviously didn’t do puff pieces, he didn’t feel the need to say it. He didn’t need to convince her of his professionalism, he just had to show it.

If he didn’t watch women’s football, and if he cheered for a different team, Harold had done his research, and she’d change her mind on him, he’d make sure of that. “Why don’t you take a seat and we can agree on how the interview will go ?” He offered, stepping behind his desk and grabbing a BBC issued notepad from it. He would type it later into his computer, but for now, paper would do. He preferred it this way. “I’ll begin by giving our viewers an overview of your career, and then we’ll start talking about this 22/23 season. That’s alright?”

[lunacassidy]

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[lunacassidy]

Work week was over, time to be messy. That was all it took to get Luna up and off the couch an hour ago and out the door, dressed as comfortably as she could while still fending off the chill of the cold March air in London.

She didn't care where she ended up as long as there was alcohol. The preference was for it to be cheap but when it came to booze she really didn't care, the cheap stuff got her just as drunk as the expensive stuff but if all they had was pricey? She'd pay it to obliterate the thoughts for a while.

What she hadn't expected was the crowd at the bar and the idea of continually trying to break through people's friendliness just to get a drink sounded about as appealing as chewing glass. So when she saw an open stool, even though it was next to another patron, at the bar she decided to grab at it and tug.

Her instinct hadn't been to start a fight, but the second he said that she jerked the stool sidelong away from him a bit, "Don't fucking flatter yourself, I'm not here for you or anyone else, I'm here to drink."

Letting people know you were alone and planned to stay alone likely wasn't bright for a woman as petite as she was, but she packed a decent punch beneath that seemingly slight form; looks can be deceiving, "But hey, if it will annoy the fuck out of you I might just get chatty for the sheer audacity of that presumption."

WHEN&WHERE: 11:11pm, Some dive bar -ish pub that’s not One Man’s Trash because Boone doesn’t want to get jumped.  WHO: Open to all!

He was in a pub, sipping on a brewski, scrolling through his phone becoming a victim to the void.  This was how Boone Hannigan unwound after a day of hard work.

After a job was completed, the man often found himself too full of adrenaline just to go home. He needed something to take the edge off, a beer usually did the trick. If one didn’t then he tried a second. Then a third. Fourth. Fifth. So on and so forth. Sometimes, when he found himself in an establishment like this one, he’d be chatty. Despite the neck tattoo, Boone could be a friendly guy and strike up a conversation with anyone who’d bite. Sometimes, it was an old barfly, they’d shoot the shit and Boone would wonder if he was getting a glimpse into his future. Other times, it would be a pretty, little thing and Boone would wonder something similar. 

However, tonight was not one of those nights.

Boone was not looking to make friends of any kind. All he wanted was to sit at the bar, drink his beers, like a couple thirst traps on Instagram, chain smoke half a pack and then go the fuck home.

Just as easy as Boone could make a friend, he could make an enemy. When the empty seat beside him was claimed with eager hands, when the stool squeaked as it was being dragged away, Boone’s head shifted towards them. He barely looked at the fellow patron, in fact, he didn’t at all. His eyes were still glued to his phone, his fingers double tapping the screen, and a heart appeared  in between a pair of tits. 

Even so, Boone couldn’t help but be an asshole. 

“Yo,” he began, “You’re not gonna ask if its taken?”

[lunacassidy]

Why in the fuck had she even been there? She couldn't remember after all the hullaballoo of the bomb threat and now she was shoved in a box with a security detail and the fucking Prime Minister. Was she expected to be on her best behavior? She was already sweating at the thought of having to be polite for so long but... at least she was safe?

No, actually, he was right. They weren't safe. They were pretty far from safe and she'd gotten swept up in the flow of his team trying to get him to safety and ended up at the very core of why a bomb threat MIGHT exist. Great, just fucking great.

"Could be worse, you could be sitting on the bomb." came a reply before Luna could stop herself. Snark was her flavor and it came in so many degrees. She really shouldn't be like that to someone who could ruin her life with the snap of his fingers and seemed rude to boot — something about him was seriously off and she could tell — but something about that legitimately made her want to be more saucy.

We talked about this, came her brain, this is how you keep getting into fucked up situations!

"Yeah, if we're doing favors and he's getting his phone back I'd love mine too, at least I can do the tinder death crawl while I sit here and wait..." That was less snarky towards him and more snarky in the general vicinity of him about something he was already snarky about. That counts as behaving, right?

No.

It really didn't seem like any of the other people in the area wanted to say much at all, however... and she hated that kind of pointed silence that was only broken by the arrogant... well, one arrogant; she added her own in to mix it up.

➜ open starter for anyone!

In some random room in the houses of parliament. How your character ended up here with August is up to you! I do feel a bit sorry for them tho <3

tw: bomb threat and august being august

“Not much of a safe room, is it?” August scoffed, as he watched the Thames flow just outside the window he was leant against. “Pop a sniper somewhere,” he gestured vaguely to the other side of the riverbank, “Over there, and BAM, they’d JFK me before the door was even closed and locked.” Seriously, he’d expected a bit more protection, considering he was the Prime Minister, and someone had called in a bomb threat on the houses of parliament. Cooped up here with a bunch of civilians was practically demeaning for someone of his stature. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Talk about inflation for the next few hours? 

The room was a stark, featureless space with one window and a single, flimsy door. A table and a few chairs had been haphazardly arranged in the center, and a small TV was mounted on the wall. The room was cramped with only three people in it. Himself, his one security detail who had accompanied him to the loo and then this poor civilian who probably hadn’t expected to end up locked up with the PM and the man dedicated to holding his cock while he pissed. 

This was not how he planned to spend his afternoon, cooped up in this jailcell of a room as everyone shat themselves over some silly 6-th former’s prank call. “Give me my phone back,” he demanded from his security detail, who had confiscated both their phones and turned them off, for ‘extra safety’. “I need to call my wife,” August lied. Really, he just wanted to open Candy Crush and avoid having to talk to the stranger next to him.

[lunacassidy]

Did she want to be there? Fuck no. Was she showing up because it was important to her girls? Ugh, fuck yes. The problem with coaching a winning team was you ended up getting news coverage. She knew that not everyone was as invested in the WFC as they were the men's but she knew full well that on a slow news week they'd latch onto anything positive in these kinds of times. So there she sat, surly and annoyed but... at least she was there.

She'd put on something akin to nice clothing, actually looking quite dapper even if she couldn't afford actual couture and some of the things she wore were blatant knock-offs, it said something that she could afford the knock-offs in her position. She felt silly having bothered to dress for this, but it seemed important and now she loathed herself for the act of caring so much. The war was already brewing in her veins and in her head.

She'd been waiting what felt like ages, about to blow a gasket — literally a hairsbreadth from standing up and stomping out like a petulant child — when the man himself emerged and she lofted a brow. The anger was replaced by confusion. Don't these people usually have others to fetch for them? Whatever, at least he was here.

"Yeah, I'm the coach of the Arsenal Women's FC. There was something about needing some interview shots of me for a puff piece." They probably hadn't said puff piece, but Luna wasn't one to mince her words; she knew why she was there and she knew it mattered zero to most people.

If it seemed like she didn't want to be there, it's because she didn't and she had limits to what she'd pretend for the sake of her girls.

where: broadcasting house, London when: whenever between 11am and 5pm - maybe they have an appointment, maybe they’re meeting for lunch, whatever you like <3  whom: open for interactions ( capping at 3)

“Who was on schedule next?” Harold called out through the open door, only to find silence. Lovely. Had he sent Lydia onto some chore again? She was efficient, but he also had heard how close she was to his predecessor, and let’s be quite honest, he wasn’t really a fan of that man. The only reason he got the evening news spot so late was this guy after all.

There was still no one replying, and he finally took it upon himself to go fetch his next appointment from the waiting room. Glancing around, his eyes finally settled onto a face, which he greeted with his signature smile. “Ah, there you are. Come on in.” 

[lunacassidy]

The bruises you can't explain; a leather jacket worn through at the cuffs; the smell of cheap whisky and vapor; dirty dishes in the sink and no plans to wash them; the first leaf to fall in autumn; a skyscraper abandoned and left to rot; eyes full of barely contained rage and tight smiles

basic info

full name: luna cassidy nickname: loon, cassidy name meaning: moon affiliation: none age: thirty-seven date of birth: july 31 star sign: leo place of birth: cali, colombia current location: city of london gender: demi-femme pronouns: she/they sexual orientation: pansexual, demiromantic religion: reluctant and/or recovering catholic occupation: head coach of the arsenal wfc / underground fighter family: unknown father, marísa cortez (mother, deceased), john cassidy (adoptive father), gloria cassidy (adoptive mother), unnamed (adoptive sister), unnamed (adoptive brother) education level: a-levels finished barely, went to university on an athletic scholarship but no degree earned living arrangements: a small flat in bexley with a potential roommate financial status: middle-class spoken languages: english, spanish personality: (-) competitive, hedonistic, aggressive (+) athletic, independent, protean

inspiration

melinda may (agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.), aeryn sun (farscape), jessica jones (jessica jones/alias), helena bertinelli (batman), alex munday (charlie's angels), rosa diaz (brooklyn 99)

trigger warnings for beneath the cut: cults, cptsd, parental death, car accident, xenophobia, racism, depression, anxiety, violence, alcohol use

bio

luna's mom was a member of a commune in colombia that was a cult.

she has no idea how long she was there, if she was born there, or anything about it because her first few years are fuzzy, as they should be.

she had never really been allowed to leave the area and was often forced to fight others for entertainment purposes, even at such a young age of four. there was something incredibly wrong with her mother and the man in the cult she'd allowed to take them.

there was a sense of entrapment outside of the abuse that forged in luna some neuroses and doubts that have hung with her her entire life. her formative years were not great.

luna was only eight when her mom died in a car accident, finally having decided to leave the cult as if she'd woken up from a dream and taking her daughter with her. luna survived the crash but had nowhere to go. she'd never known her father and he didn't show up when the news broke and she ended up in the system in colombia.

it wasn't a fun time for her and she had to fight tooth and nail to keep her head above water. it's one of the places she originally learned to fight after her childish fights in the cult but she was so young.

her only escape was football in the yard when she could and that meant that she got really good at it. like really good... but also really keen on hurting others if they crossed her on the field and ended up in more than her share of fights.

it wasn't until she was ten that a nice couple was visiting down in cali and found her. they adopted her, taking her back to england with them and worked in teaching her english fully (as she only spoke spanish at the time)

entering school was rough as they weren't necessarily rich or well-off and so they had no clout to throw around to get her protected in any institution.

a lot of kids in her classes (from nine until she finished her a-levels) were extremely xenophobic, critical of her accent and, especially when she was younger and still learning english, extremely racist about her accent.

her english is fluent now but she still speaks spanish as often as she can to stick it to the (probably not even real) man.

she found some relief when she began to play football at her school, racking up accolades even though she would (again) get into fights. she managed to listen to her advisor and calmed down enough to get through school and attend university on a scholarship.

while playing football in university she found herself more prone to outbursts because of a sudden influx of drinking and partying. it meant that she went on suspension more than once but always (generally) managed to shape up.

during a game in which she was to be (likely) recruited to a national team she was reminded of her xenophobic and racist classmates from childhood when someone used a derogatory term after she clipped their ankle and luna went apeshit and beat them so badly that she was not only kicked off the team, she lost her scholarship and had to retreat from university.

it took her a while to get control of her alcoholism and even more time for her to even be able to think of what she'd lost that day (she really did love football) and devolved into a habit of frequenting london's underground fight clubs to get out her aggression.

after she felt that she could handle people being people, she started to put herself out again for a position with the arsenal wfc. her 'better behavior' was taken into consideration, and though she would never play for them given her previous attitude, she ended up making head coach and lives fairly comfortably because of this.

when she's working now luna takes her job very seriously and does the work, so much so that she's intent on continuing to lead her women to victory even if she spends her nights in the fight clubs or in a bottle.

she has never let go of that chip on her shoulder that the treatment she received as a child and teenager in school instilled and starts fights with people at the drop of a hat off the job.

she gets paid well enough to be comfortable within her means, the sort of middle-class life she grew up in where they weren't poor but she isn't throwing money around frivolously.

to that, her apartment is very nice and spacious but she (might have a roommate and) keeps most of the amenities sort of short. there's a doorman and an attendant for safety, but it's on the cheaper side for a reason.

headcanons

luna vapes. she'd do marijuana if it weren't for her job but right now it's just minor nicotine with weird flavors and scents. (it's gross to me glsndlgsd but hey)

luna is what one would consider 'hot tempered' and will honestly fuck someone up over the littlest thing.

luna has a chihuahua named nugget

luna has cptsd and shows very obvious signs of it.

luna has very bad coping mechanisms but a ton of ways to hide and excuse herself when it gets out of hand.

luna's gone down the alcohol route but she has never broached hard drugs. she doooesssss smoke weed tho.

luna will sleep with any person if she feels they're attractive and though she leans more heteroromantic she is demiromantic so if she forms a connection with someone there is the possibility that she'll fall for them romantically. it's rare that she falls for anyone because of the walls she's put up but y'all...

luna is completely doting in a relationship. she'll get awkward when it gets pointed out and double down on being a little shit but she absolutely goes moon eyed.

luna absolutely gets the irony of telling her players they'll be put on suspension for the very things she does/did/is doing and everything but she's learned to compartmentalize and so should they (lmao)

luna's adoptive parents were v good to her but they can't control racism and xenophobia or her past so she still got messed up unfortunately. she still keeps in contact with them.

she cannot be fixed by love but love can make her feel whole if it happens in her life. this isn't your life time movie trauma that will get absolutely obliterated with good love or friendship, but it's the real life interpretation of your demons being quieter when those people are in your life. just don't try to 'fix her'.

her emergency contact, right now, is the lobby of her building where the doorman and attendant have been informed to respond positively then let her handle her own shit. this can change down the line.

connections

former school bully — luna has a ton of bad memories from her school days, chief among them being bullied a lot by people because of her language barrier (at first) and the fact that she wasn't like her parents and wasn't from the country. kids can be cruel sometimes and this character was no exception. we're talking the head bully who used to make luna's life a living hell. whether they're still like this or not every time luna sees them it all comes RUSHING back and she feels immense rage and awkwardness and it'll be messy af.

bad influence — everyone has that friend that cares about you but sure as fuck will encourage the wrong thing. whether it's because they're messy too or they just honestly want to have a good time or they can't stand to see someone else get better is up to you but in general they love watching luna stumble through her life with them stumbling right along side her and encourage every bender she's ever been on. when photographed doing bad things your character is the blurry image right next to our drunken luna. luna loves and hates them in the same way that they do her because when you're that fucked up you don't like seeing your face reflected back in another's but you also feel for them.

good influence — they just want luna to get better. they love her in some capacity or another and encourage her to do the right thing. they plan outings that have nothing to do with drinking or partying or anything of the like to show luna that things can be fun without being destructive and it works... most of the time. luna's own love for them is probably the same level but she's a messy bench so she has a hard time showing it.

the one — love conquers all, right? well, it tries, anyway. luna and your character have dated more than once and it always ends poorly, generally because of luna. the last time your character said they couldn't keep watching her destroy herself and she had a fit about it, but in the end she's head over heels and will love your character forever. this can turn into something that eventually gets worked out (whether luna gets better or not we can discuss it) and they DO end up together because as far as the story goes, your character is the one.

the NOT one — then there's this asshole. the one she gets together with once every couple of months and goes on an absolute tear with, leaving a wake of destruction and bad decisions in her wake. the relationship itself is toxic as fuck, but the sex is good so they keep falling back in bed together. it might turn violent sometimes, given luna's penchant for fighting (and potentially your character's) but there is no denying there's a spark of chemistry, even if it is like absolute loathing and good sex.

that one awkward tinder hook-up — it doesn't matter how it happened or when it happened but it turns out that neither of you should have really been there. your character and luna are just... it was fine, sexually, but in the end it felt so awkward that neither of you knew how to approach it. that means that these can be awkward meetings until they figure out how to be friends or become enemies.

exes — just some exes that she tried with but didn't work. these can vary from ending on good terms, to bad, to being friends now, or being enemies, or anywhere in between. the world is your oyster.

friends — she makes them sometimes, honestly, but a lot of them can't handle her bullshit for long. she's a very good friend if someone sticks around long enough and even though she'll always butt heads with people sometimes, she's devoted and loyal as a friend, no doubt.

co-fighters — not sure how else to frame this but people she meets in the arena a lot when she goes to the underground fight clubs and fight rings to get messy. she doesn't always win but she never goes down without fucking people up. she will give anyone a run for their money and this can have gone to the point of them being rivals, being friendsly, frenemies, or anything!

roommate — toying with the idea of her having a nice place but also having a roommate to help pay for that. it'd have to be someone she at least gets on well enough to share a space with and trusts to not report her at some point when she shows up drunk and messy to try and get her fired or anything like that and be discreet. this does however open your character up to living in a nicer area for whatever that's worth if it means something to your character. they can 100% be friends if you want too or just slightly friendly.

[lunacassidy]

[lunacassidy]

Diane Guerrero

[lunacassidy]

~ Fight Like a Girl

“Behind my smile is a girl in pain. Behind my laugh, tears fall like rain. But I will forge ahead. I’ll give it all I’ve got. I’ll fight like a girl and I’ll never stop.”