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@danteinfcrno

               hushed steps were taken ( years of ballet had seemed to finally pay off ), breath held while VIRESECENT eyes perused her surroundings. heart pounded in her chest — — left-hand fingers danced on the handle of her machete that was sheathed and clipped on her belt. no signs of walkers just yet. tongue licked lips as she crossed a corner and darted for a rusted blue car, a move she hadn’t really thought through. a moment was taken to sit down and catch her breath; in a matter of minutes jasmine was back on her feet and making a run to another corner. a muffled shuffle in leaves from behind caused her heart to skip a beat and caught her attention——this resulted in her IMPULSIVELY turning around to investigate. nothing showed up in her peripherals ( but the pit of her stomach held an uneasy feeling ). jasmine then leaned against the wall, letting out a mere sigh in relief. she braced herself, shook off the thick blanket of nervousness that had seemed to swallow her whole, and finally decided to cut the corner. but, just as she had came around, her body collided with another’s and sent her to the ground. hand quickly went to grab her machete until eyes glanced up and revealed it wasn’t a WALKER, which she silently thanked god and prayed, but another human ( that somehow did NOT get knocked down ). it was dante, a familiar face she had seen before, and a sudden wave of reassurance flooded through her————causing the blonde’s demeanor to brighten up straightaway. jasmine immediately got up, brushing herself off as a chuckle passed through a reappearing GLEAM. 

               ❝ my heart just skipped about a thousand and something beats——i thought i was a goner. seriously ! i saw the white light and everything.❞ 

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phlegmctic.

Innocence radiated off of her in waves; violent like the sea in the middle of a storm. ( Ironic, he thought, considering innocence and violence had no business sharing space. ) Small and delicate – she reminded him of those lilac irises that got crushed under his soldier boots back in Iraq. Easily swatted. Though looks could be deceiving and innocence, as pastel and bright as it may have seemed, could flip into something less lovely within a tiny period of time. Like underage warriors; children of war. Nicholas wasn’t moved by fragile things. Nicholas wan’t moved by much, really. Not suicidal victims nor those caught in the crossfire – not the rage in his father’s tone nor a slap across the face. He just…was. And whatever he was wasn’t entirely pretty. He was a man of monosyllables and flat stares: no words, all might. So her request was a bit…less than attractive. If she would’ve met him him with a gun, it would have been a different story ( Nicholas knew how to handle people with guns; with murder on their mind ). Instead she sported enthusiasm. Sunshine. The man offered no real answer – how could he explain the complications behind merely speaking for him? He did lean against the wall, though, eyebrows pulling together in a morbid sort of curiosity ( he pegged her for soon to be dead the minute he walked in ). 

               silence had always left the blonde feeling INSECURE — — mainly because the only thing she could do to fight it was to talk. in cuba, quietness would fall over her house like a downpour of rain after the senseless arguing and plate smashing had ceased. her mother would be puffing a self-rolled cigarette on the porch, and her father would walk down the road to do god only knows what. all jasmine could hear in that empty house in cuba was her mother hissing under her breath and her father cursing out harsh names in the wind ( jasmine would just sit on the floor brushing the hair of her dolls tenderly  — — as if they could feel pain ). ❝ i finished a book i was reading, ❞ the blonde began, quietly at first, ❝ and i’m STILL in awe. i think they made a movie from it, but, sadly, i can’t watch it. OH ! the name of the novel is to kill a mockingbird———have you read it ? it’s okay if you haven’t. no hard feelings here. ❞ a small reassuring grin had worked its way onto her nervous lips. rudeness ? she could deal with. sarcasm ? a breeze. but the cold presence of no words at ALL was just something she didn’t know how to handle. ❝ are you hungry or ANYTHING ? need to talk about your day ? dislike the weather we have been having ? ‘cause, honestly, i do too. i mean, snow, R E A L L Y ? i was freezin’ my———am i talking too much ? i am, aren’t i ?  ❞

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↪ b a s i c s ;

N A M E: Jasmine Bonita González-Amador A G E: 26 P L A C E   O F   O R I G I N: Viñales, Cuba G R O U P: V. A. Medical Center O C C U P A T I O N: Carer F C: Ana de Armas

❝ The world we know is gone. But keeping our humanity? That’s a choice. ❞

↪ p e r s o n a l i t y ;

P O S I T I V E   T R A I T S: sanguine ; tenderhearted N E G A T I V E   T R A I T S: recalcitrant ; grueling

↪ b i o g r a p h y ;

L I F E   B E F O R E   T H E   O U T B R E A K:

It was a constant battle. Will we be evicted this month? Can we pay for Jasmine to go to school, or will she have to drop out? Questions like these were asked on a daily when Jasmine’s family was living in Cuba. Arguments broke out on a day-to-day basis, plates would get thrown at walls, veins would become visible through flesh, and tears would roll down cheeks. The money situation had took a toll on her parents——seeing them basically grow apart in front of her own eyes always left an UNEASY feeling in her stomach. Promises of a better life and better pay in America overwhelmed them, and they found themselves setting foot on U.S.A. soil in a matter of months. It was supposed to be the family’s big break—the glue to hold the brokenness together. However, after their citizenships were finalized, a divorce was signed and sealed, and Jasmine found herself moving with her mother, leaving her father all alone.

Her mother ended up marrying some rich bank broker and moved to upstate New York, while her father stayed in Georgia trying to scrape by. Alejandra Johnson was her mother’s new name. It left a sour taste in her mouth, mainly due to the sour relationship between Jasmine and her stepfather, Edgar. Jasmine was nothing more than loose ends from his new wife’s old husband, and though he did clothe and feed her, no love was present. Jasmine’s relationship with her father went from a phone call every day, to a call once a month, and eventually to a call only on Christmas. Visitation was not in the equation——her mother forbid it. But on her fifteenth Christmas, her father didn’t pick up the phone. He didn’t answer mama, is he okay? All her mother could do was shrug it off, and tell her to keep on trying. Call after call, voicemail after voicemail, there were no signs of communication from him. Finally, after begging to see him, a fifteen year old Jasmine was flown to Georgia to surprise her father after FIVE years.

A cracked door. That’s all that welcomed her as she stood on the steps of the porch that belonged to the first American house her family had stepped foot in. Jasmine called out to him from the first step, then gradually got louder as she approached the door. Her hand pushed it open all the way, eyes glancing on the floor to see dust and leaves piled up on cheap wood. The floor still squeaked like it did when she was younger, though the house had more dust than usual. It had a faint stale smell to it, the smell of an unoccupied home. Pictures were still nailed to the walls, a few cups were still stacked on the coffee table. Another dad, you here? and still nothing. Jasmine searched the house, from top until bottom, and had yet to find any sign of her father. An immediate phone call went out to her mother, whom was just about to board the plane. He’s probably with some friends, or maybe he’s been staying with a new woman. There’s obviously a reasonable explanation for this. Her mother’s intuition didn’t cease the thought that had spread throughout her mind——has something happened to her father?

Just a few months after filing the missing person report, it was proclaimed they were looking for a body. A year after that, they stopped looking. There are no new leads, Mrs. Johnson, I’m sorry. If her mother was torn up about the whole fiasco, she didn’t show it. Edgar and her mother took many vacations after that, leaving Jasmine to stay with Edgar’s sister, Julie. Despite Jasmine’s efforts to have a semi-friendly relationship with the woman, it wasn’t reciprocated. As time went on, Jasmine couldn’t help but find herself wondering what would have happened if she would have stayed with her father. Would he still be in his home in Georgia, ALIVE? Would her mother be the loving individual she was BEFORE? On her eighteenth birthday, she spent it alone in the enormous house in upstate New York by herself. After a few drinks, intoxication blindly led her to the decision to snatch up all the valuables and money she could find, and move to Los Angeles. L.A. was known for helping other’s achieve their dreams, so what could it offer to a fresh high school eighteen year old graduate with a heart of gold? Nothing.

Moving to the city of angels wasn’t the most intelligent idea the young girl had had. Surprisingly, her mother and stepfather didn’t dare to look for her, which was bitter-sweet. No police report had been filed for the missing objects and money Jasmine had snatched from that lonely house. The city had no more opportunity for her than the last, and she found herself working three jobs to pay for a mediocre one bedroom apartment. A call a year after her big move left her feeling emotions she couldn’t sort through——her mother had passed after a fatal heart attack. She had been in a coma for months, we thought she would get better. The doctor’s told me that she wasn’t coming out. So I-I pulled the cord. I’m sorry. The call ended. Edgar didn’t seem to be emotional over it, didn’t seem to care. Jasmine took a couple of weeks from working to be able to recollect herself. Though, her mother had changed greatly, her death only added another burden to her soul. If a funeral DID happen, she wasn’t notified————she wasn’t even informed on WHERE she was buried. She just held onto the thought that maybe her mother and father are somewhere together and happy. A childish belief, but one that kept her going.

L I F E   D U R I N G   T H E   O U T B R E A K:

Panic flooded the streets of Los Angeles. Jasmine was caught in the middle, wondering what had happened and what was to come. There was so much she wanted to do, but it seemed that time wasn’t on her side. She knew she had to get out of the city, get somewhere safe and secure. But WHERE? Jasmine ended up staying with some friends from work at a camp on the outskirts of L.A. The protection was low, the food was low, and they slowly were running out of both water and H O P E. One day on the radio, they heard a voice speaking about some place in Wyoming. The transmission was faint as the survivors sat in a circle trying to decipher what place they were discussing. Did they say Charlotte? No, Jessie, that’s in one of the Carolina’s. Shut up, I can’t hear! Calm down, I think they said Cheyenne. Cheyenne? Where the hell is Cheyenne? Obviously in Wyoming. Oh, we HAVE to get there, it sounds so nice. What if it’s a trap? The group decided it was best to STAY where they were. Jasmine completely disagreed and tried to express how badly they needed to evacuate. No one believed her.

The next week was an even she would never forget. Out of nowhere, the undead swarmed them like flies on shit. The ones they didn’t tear apart ran for the hills, leaving Jasmine stuck between a rock and a hard place. She wasn’t prepared. She didn’t have an escape bag or anything that she could just grab and go. All she had was a knife and some pistol she snatched from the bloody fingers of one of her closest friends. It was now her against everything———just like her childhood.

L I F E   A F T E R   T H E   O U T B R E A K:

When she finally arrived in Wyoming, a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. Jasmine could smile again and for once, she finally had more than a simple belief to give her hope. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder what her father would do in her situation. He was her hero——a man that could do no wrong and seemed to save everyone around him, despite how tight financial burdens were around his throat. Now, she always tries to be optimistic—a glass half full type of gal. Jasmine tries her best to help anyone and everyone out as much as she can, mainly because she had been in predicaments before the apocalypse that most teenagers shouldn’t have been in. The young woman hadn’t changed much from the fresh-faced eighteen year old that had moved to Los Angeles years ago———now she’s just survivin’ and keepin’ her humanity in tact.

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               the weather had seemed to subside a bit, the wind still too chilly for jasmine’s liking. mind went adrift to think of all of the tasks she had to accomplish before the day’s demise——the thoughts were followed by a long sigh. the tip of her shoe hit a rock, and EMERALD eyes watched it scatter down and eventually break off into two other ones. a small smile was present as she continued to stride along, but feet stopped mid-step and she held her breath when she saw someone struggling to break free.  by the time she had approached the individual, they were already out and seemed to be unharmed, which resulted in her finally able to breathe again. once she was able to recollect her regular breathing, lips parted to speak. ❝ n-no, it wasn’t. are you okay, though ? ❞ the blonde asked with a thick coat of SINCERITY.

“Jesus..” Aiden muttered as he continued lifting his leg repeatedly as it was currently caught on some sort of net. It looked set up but if this was some sort of trap from raiders, it was a pitiful attempt on their part. He lifted his ankle as far as the net would allow, now bending the rest of the way to slice the netting with his knife until it freed him. Suddenly, footsteps approached and his hand immediately made way to the gun connected to his belt. “If that was your handiwork, it was pathetic.” He called out, glancing around himself to find the figure coming towards him.  

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bencficent.

With the recent opening in the position of a second healer, Gwen found herself–once again–the sole provider of care at the VA Hospital. On the average day, it wasn’t particularly more difficult and in some ways it was much easier than it had been before ( though she would never say so aloud to anyone but Callum or Ollie ). Holding someone’s hand through a crisis was NECESSARY, but there was a part of her ( one that she could not entirely silence ) that found it herself IMPATIENT with teaching another nurse how to handle emergencies in the apocalypse. While it didn’t help the group, it was certainly easier to be the only healthcare provider instead of TEACHER and NURSE simultaneously while LIVES were at stake. 

Despite the relative RELIEF, Gwen found herself going without sleep, missing introductions ( as well as meals ) without someone else telling her to take a break. So deep in thought about her ideas for the open clinic she’d discussed with Vanes-MAMA ( as the woman liked to be called ), that she’d not noticed the blonde at all until she’d been spoken to directly. Was she one of the new camp members? Gwen could not recall having met her and smiled with suppressed embarrassment as her husky–ROBOCOP–padded forward, only turning to look at her again and circle back once he heard the distance in her voice. “Yes, of course.” A smile broke through the surprise on her face, but could not replace it completely past her lips. “Can I help you with anything?”

               literature had always seemed to be a part of jasmine’s life. the first book she was given was cubana: contemporary fiction by cuban women, which was her present from her father when they first moved to the united states. she somehow still had it to this day. pages were ripped, a few had their ink faded from the pages to where words became unreadable, but it still held its undeniable SENTIMENTAL value. but, was that what the world had succumbed to? becoming a book with torn pages, and washed ink words? it seemed to be more like a never-ending nightmare that she had yet to wake up from. but, there seemed to be no reason to sit around and mope about it. people’s humanity seemed to either be washed away like the metaphorical ink on the metaphorical book of the new world, or hanging by a thread like a damsel in distress. jasmine’s, on the other hand, wasn’t hanging or washed away—————not one bit. 

               ❝ have you ever read TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD ?❞ the question was queried in a harmless manor. lips felt as if they were burning from wanting to ramble on so bad, eyes glimmered with this sight of keenness. the blonde hadn’t made direct contact with gwen, despite her being in cheyenne for a good minute, but still felt as if they were “buddies” ( though she felt that way towards a majority of the human population ). heart began to pound with this sense of impatience. she had been ANTICIPATING having a conversation about the joy she had received from the hard-covered book.  it wasn’t in the best condition — — not by far  — — but the pages were still legible and they had jasmine on the edge of her seat until the end.

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               ❝ it’s not my FAVORITE thing, no. ❞ jasmine let a mere laugh subside from closed lips. it was a muffled one, but a laugh nonetheless. the cold had seemed to interact with jasmine in a negative way. her nose would close up from time to time, her throat would start to get sore, and she was constantly shaking. but———the snow was beautiful. it was white and seemed to have a slight sparkle if you would stare at it for a long period of time. snowflakes would fall, and every s i n g l e one was different from the last.

               she stood, leaning on the wall for support. her body had been coated with numerous articles of clothing, along with an extra blanket over her. she wore two pairs of thick socks on her feet that had been tucked into boots a size too big for her. hands were secure on keeping the blanket wrapped around her for protection from the harsh winter. eyes flickered to the fire, a long sigh escaping shaking lips. ❝ i feel like i have a cold that seems to want to play TAG with my immune system. wait——did that even make sense ? ❞ 

Ophelia HATED the cold, she despised the snow and the way she had to bundle up in this weather; it also didn’t help that she had the immune system of a newborn and got sick at the drop of a hat. The only thing she enjoyed was snowball fights and you couldn’t even do that in this weather right now, so she was sitting curled up on a couch at the state Capitol muttering angrily to herself about the fast falling white flakes. The tiny redhead curled inward towards her body trying to keep warm by the roaring blaze going in the fireplace near her. “Stupid fucking weather, always gotta ruin the day.” She bit out softly teeth chattering as she sniffled.

Letting out a soft sigh and pulling her three blankets closer Ophelia stared into the flames for a moment, her mind just going blank for a single second ( that still not stopping the angry muttering ) before she heard footsteps in the background. “Sorry I am bothering you or are you one of those people who actually like’s this type of weather?” 

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                jasmine’s shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, head then nodded in agreement. ❝ i’m originally from CUBA, then moved to georgia, and finally to california, too. so, i completely agree with you. but i mean, ain’t  it pretty ? besides the fact that it’s freezin’ your ass off, anyways. ❞ the blonde’s fingers played relentlessly with her hair —— though they weren’t STABLE at all and s h o o k all over the place. ❝ you wanna hear a joke ? ❞

“I’m not used to snow,” Ravi said absentmindedly as he stared out the window. “I went to school on the East Coast so I should be but still…I’m an LA kid at heart. So this? This is just plain weird.” He turned to give the person next to him an awkward smile. “Though I guess weird is kind of relative nowadays.”

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               the COLD had left her limbs to shake. mind went to think of warmer times to try and warm herself up—could simple memories be a heating source ? could it protect from the cold ? jasmine thought of los angeles. thoughts of sitting out by the pool to tan on a hot day when she finally had a day off from her three jobs, and thoughts of her childhood in cuba sparked a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. the warmness would spread from there to her fingertips, to her nose, and finally to her toes. hearing the other’s voice had seemed to pry her from her imaginary inner heater. green eyes went from the ground to evie a few seconds after she spoke, a small smile forming on shivering lips. ❝ i just asked how you were. and, by the way, a simple yes or no will not suffice. ❞ jasmine loved to talk to others about ANYTHING. conversating seemed to bring an elated feeling during this time of sadness and coldness. she straightened her jacket out, limiting the creases that had seemed to be the predominant feature. it was a few sizes too big for the petite physique of jasmine, cloth hung loosely and heavily off her——but also seemed to bring more heat than a fitted one. 

“it’s beautiful.” the words weren’t necessarily spoken to the other she had stumbled across a moment before but they were spoken nonetheless. with jesús back, evelyn found it easier to converse. easier to find beauty in the world when so much had gone down the drain. even if the other was talking to her about something else entirely. she had grown distracted. she was sure she had heard them ask her a question but she couldn’t quite remember what it had been. her eyes focused on the other person again after a moment and she managed a small smile. she had only ventured out of the lodge to find some more blankets after jesús had fallen asleep. the fireplace kept the building warm enough but she worried about when they would run out of firewood. she needed to make sure they were prepared. “sorry. what did you say?”

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She was warm, like when you feel the heat of the sun on your skin after being cold for too long. The good kind of warm.

wzedd61 (via wnq-writers)

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through sadness and difficult times i still don’t allow myself to become hardened by my hurt. i remain soft, hopeful, and compassionate. this is my nature and i do not give myself enough credit for it. softness is resilience too.

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                     svelte fingers grasped the hem of the shirt that hung over her petite physique with an overwrought demeanor. virescent eyes gleamed with a shimmer of eagerness as jasmine leaned against the wall. the grip tightened with excitement, teeth bit her bottom lip as to suppress her need to babble on about how she finished the book to kill a mockingbird. it was a DELIGHTFUL read nonetheless——and surely the first person to come within yards of her would hear about it. since the apocalypse began, literature had seemed to worm its’ way into her heart and make an imprint. it was an easy way to take her mind off of the literal hell that the earth had succumbed to. her digits then went to push aside strays of flaxen hair that had been blown onto her face, then a long sigh followed at her dismay. she didn’t want to remain silent, but she also would rather not discuss with herself the book she had just read. the racket of someone approaching awfully close to her made jasmine turn in the direction of the sound, eyes hurrying to find the individual so she could talk their ear off nicely. 

        —————   ❝ got a minute to talk? ❞ the young woman inquired, voice coated with enthusiasm, as the person had come within feet of her.

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      —————    greetings my lil’ sugarplums!!!!!! under the cut u gonna find a shitty explanation of my ray of sunshine!! love u guys so much

GOOD EVENING MY FRIENDS! i’m tali n i’m super stoked to be here?????? i could cry tears of Literal happiness bc im a f*ckin crybaby rip but ANYWays until jasmine’s bio gets posted imma write yall up a lil somethin somethin so we can HOPEFULLYYYY plot!!

she was born in cuba, but moved to the united states when she was eight!!! she is an only child, n her parents were pretty poor and then coming to america ended up completely seperating them. they got a divorce not too long after the move after their citizenships were finalized, and her mom ended up marrying this rich bank broker and moved to upstate new york. her dad stayed in georgia, n jasmine wanted to stay with him, but her mom basically forced her 2 go with her. she didn’t get to see her dad at all, but called him everyday. then it ended up being a call a week, a call a month, and then ended up usually only having a christmas call. um she didnt have a relationship with her stepdad at all bc he didnt care for her bc all he saw was some old baggage from his new wife’s old marriage when he looked at her rip. her mom ended up changing when she got with him, which resulted in her and her mom literally never talking. when she was fifteen she called her dad on christmas and he didnt pick up, so she went to surprise him, and ended up finding the house he lived in to be unoccupied and had been for months. when she told her mom abt it her mom was all like “he gonna be ok he probably just with some friends” but then after a while her mother then filed a missing person’s report that ended up going cold. after all that, her mom n step dad constantly took vacations n shit n left jasmine with her stepaunt who HATED! HER! so when jasmine turned 18 she took all the money n valuable shit she could find n hauled ass to l.a. bc why tha fuck not!!!! n her mom didnt care really ig cause she didnt try to contact her or call the police so i mean u win some u lose some. ummm when she moved to la she ended up working 3 jobs to pay for her shitty ass apartment???? rip. anyways when shit went down she stayed with a group of friends on the outskirts of l.a. and they heard a person statically talk abt cheyenne so she was like u guys lets go here!!!! they said lol no thanks!!! then 2 weeks later the camp got overrun and all jasmine had was herself, a knife, n a pistol she had no idea how to operate. BUT SHE FINALLY FOUND IT!!! ITS FUCKIN LIT!!! um i would say she been in cheyenne for at least a couple of years?? maybe more??? idk but shes a fuckin sweat pea she will help u out however she can n shes really nice but if u try to bark orders at her constantly she will fuckin beat ur ass (jk she cant fight that good??? but she can yell @ u) UMMMM AM I MISSING ANYTHING IDK IF U NEED MORE INFO LEMME KNOW!!! ALSO GIVE THIS POST ALIKE OR SLIDE IN MY IMS TO PLOT!!!

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Ana de Armas attends the “Hands Of Stone” photocall during the 69th annual Cannes Film Festival at the Palais des Festivals on May 16, 2016 in Cannes, France.

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                   ——          &&; my heart has wept for those that i could not save

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         — audrey hepburn