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vanmols · 10 months ago

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the days have no consistency to them; some long and strenuous while others bleed together without allowing a break for air. cherry blinks and she's at the pub with her friends, then she turns to look at her right and she's driving to grammy's house to drop off the milk before sunday service. standing next to arlo with a cigarette between her teeth, she reaches into her jacket pocket for the pack to offer him one. "sort of both," she responds, patting her jeans in search of her silver lighter. "i was on my way to the pier, you know." in search of a tourist, or lollipops, or a seat on the old deck chairs with peeling paint — this goes unsaid, but everyone knows why she hangs out on the pier. "but, i saw your sorry figure in the distance — did you know you sort of look, oh, what's the word?" she lifts the tab of the cigarette pack, offers it to him, finds the lighter and pulls it out in two fluid motions, biting burnt ash into her mouth. "like, you're waiting for your husband to return from war. very 'penelope' like, but you're not fending off suitors." the corner of her lips rise. "i guess that's where i come in, yeah? come to bother you in your solitude while you wait for odysseus."

status , open. location , the beach at sunset.

# › arlo stands at the furthest section of the beach from the water, a paved path at his feet and just out of the way of cyclists and joggers. the beach was drenched in lightning - gold, a heavenly haze pouring out across the horizon as the day's last ounce of light, before the sun is silenced by the moon. the horizon was a thin seam where the sky's canopy and the plane of the swelling sea trims each other into a line of brilliant silver. a line of perfection — it gave him something to write about — the way the sea and the sky welded into one. the beckoning of the moon and the stars, a whispered promise from their lips that tomorrow would come. every evening he wandered down to this spot, only a short few blocks from his shared apartment. stood still with folded arms like a dad admiring their freshly cut grass, recharging in the glow of a retreating sun. it's only after he begins to turn his head that he notices another slowing their steps beside his person, head turning the rest of the way to identify them. fatigued eyes offer a puzzling yet simultaneously restrained look, silent still after facing forward again and watching a dog chase a bird ahead of them. then, with the release of his breath he mumbles, " hi. are you just getting here ? or just passing by ? " it's his best attempt at small talk, one that he decides to give himself a mental pat on the back for. they're lucky he didn't say hi and then leave it at that.

#＊ 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 ˛ feat. arlo .

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vanmols · 10 months ago

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‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎CHERRY , as from melissa febos, "i know the impossibility of the hickey, whose urge is not ultimately to mark or be marked, but to possess and be possessed. ( ... ) all i can do is leave a mark — the notation of my effort, a symbol for the thing. that is the endless pleasure and frustration of the writer and the lover: to reach and reach and never become."

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎CERISE VAN MOL , the libertine ( a person who behaves without moral principles or a sense of responsibility, especially in sexual matters ) , as loved by sera ( she / her ). pinterest + application. TRIGGER WARNINGS PRESENT﹕ neglectful parenthood, slut shaming, mild sexual themes, more tba.

PART ONE [ DOSSIER ] ﹕

﹡ FULL NAME . cerise van mol ﹡ NICKNAME(S) / ALIAS(ES) / TITLE(S) . cherry ﹡ PREFERRED NAME . cherry, as she is not french ﹡ AGE + DOB . twenty - five + mar. 3 ﹡ GENDER + PRONOUNS . cis woman, she + her ﹡ ORIENTATION . bisexual ﹡ BIRTHPLACE . hitheside ﹡ CURRENT LOCATION . hitheside

﹡ LABEL . the libertine, see﹕ a plethora of stereotypical issues, abandonment left to fester and grow / girl learns the word slut when she's too young and lets the word follow her into womanhood. ﹡ OCCUPATION . romance advice columnist ( in a paper that nearly nobody reads — she's starting to suspect that it's the same person writing in every other week ) ﹡ TROPES . spirited young woman, vanity is feminine, parental abandonment, hates being alone, raised by grandparents, street smart, i need a freaking drink, my girl is a slut, madonna - whore complex, embodiment of vice. ﹡ INFLUENCES . holly golightly ( breakfast at tiffany's ), satine ( moulin rouge ), helen of troy ( the iliad ), daisy buchanan ( the great gatsby ), anna karenina ( anna karenina ), meredith dardenne ( if we were villains )

﹡ EYES . doe - shaped, bigger than small, easy blue, sometimes green. ﹡ HAIR . longer in length, often second day curls — honey blonde, lighter in the summer and swept up most in the winter. ﹡ HEIGHT . five feet, seven inches ( 170cm ) ﹡ FACECLAIM . casimere jollette

﹡ DOMINANT HAND . left ﹡ JUNG TYPE . esfp — the entertainer ( friendly, outgoing, and supportive ) ﹡ ENNEAGRAM . type 3w2 — the enchanter ( ambitious, charming, and enthusiastic ) ﹡ MORAL ALIGNMENT . chaotic neutral

PART TWO [ HISTORY ] ﹕

you must be well - traveled, says the body in her room, looking at the collection of postcards on her cork board. it's overflowing, too many to count, to make sense of. cherry lights her cigarette, still in bed and scoffs, you receive postcards, you know, you don't collect them. they turn around and give her a half - hearted smile. they say, oh, right. sure, sorry.

mum calls when she needs something, which means that grammy's teal phone is ringing while cherry's blowing out her candles, but mum needs something ( which always means that she comes first — she's grammy and grandpop's first child, and cherry's nothing but the leftover ). this is how it goes: grammy answers the phone while grandpop goes to get a knife to cut the cake, cherry climbs onto the lap of the friend closest to her and hugs them until she no longer feels like crying. when grandpop comes back, he tells them — a group of pre - teens, too many to count but not enough to be a party party — that grammy went to the bank. mum's stranded in south africa, cherry, grammy will be right back. cherry says, yeah, alright, and hands cake to her friends.

the first time cherry is called a slut is when she's twelve years old. one of her friends gave her some cherry lipgloss and they giggled over it while she applied it — i'm cherry and i'm wearing cherry lipgloss! she kisses a boy after school on the way home — er, well, he kisses her, but she enjoyed it. it was fine for a first kiss, except he held her shoulders a bit too tight and looked like he was going to throw up on her ( new ) shoes when he pulled away. oh, right, and his friend has a crush on her and cherry should have known, that's what mum says, anyway, and grammy. she smiled at him and he gave her his extra snacks and duh, everyone could see it. when he finds out that she kissed his friend ( that's what he says, and nobody believes her when she swears he kissed her first ), he calls her a slut and she cries for three days.

what do you want to be when you grow up? the teacher looks smug, like her lesson plan is going to change the lives of her students. cherry sits in the back with a lollipop in her mouth — grammy thinks it's lewd, but cherry's fifteen, and grandpop chides grammy for thinking such a thing. she raises her hand and when called upon, answers, i want to be better. and the class snickers, and the teacher's smug look drops in understanding, and she nods once before moving on.

right, so, mum never comes home anymore and grammy keeps taking cherry to church. there's this woman on the congregation, her name is mary elizabeth ( cherry thinks, she really can't remember because she and her friends call the woman 'haircut', because her haircut is atrocious ) who thinks they're cursed — she's told nearly everyone; one daughter who's gone doing who knows what, one granddaughter who's doing unspeakable things at the pier. it makes cherry laugh. the only unspeakable thing she's doing at the pier is stealing the novelty lollipops, but they see a pretty girl named cherry ( thanks, mum ) and assume the sin must be lusty. cherry goes to church because she still wants grammy's car when she gets her license.

her date has waited until the very end of it to tell her that they think she's ... troubled. they're one of those philosophical types, oxford bound, glasses at the end of their nose, holier than thou — they say she's too angry, that she's using sex to deflect from what's hurting her. she's a flight risk, they say, and they hope she figures it out one day. cherry stares at them from the passenger seat. their breath still smells like her lipgloss, their skin is shining from sweat accumulated in the backseat. she blinks and gives them a smile, leaning over to kiss their cheek with a laugh. she says, sure, stud. call me when you're back in town, and when their semester ends, her phone lights up and cherry, with friends who have heard all about it, doesn't recognize the number.

are you angrier or happier? cherry looks up at her questioner. her stomach hurts from laughing, but her chest is empty. no lungs, no heart, nothing but rib - meat and mold. she purses her lips and answers, i'm okay. and she must be, she's among friends and lovers. cherry gets up and wipes herself off. another bed to conquer, she reports when gathering her stuff from the booth. wish me luck, i'll call you all tomorrow.

PART THREE [ SUMMARY & TRIVIA ] ﹕

the summary ( of both the google doc & the above ) is this: mum who didn't want a daughter dumps cherry with her grandparents, cherry grows up unloved and unwanted, she finds solace with her friends, but also through promiscuous activities that she learns to embrace while going through girlhood.

is, generally, a natural flirt. i imagine that her friends are aware that it's mostly a front ( cherry is very deeply angry and hurt and she truly cannot and will not! get over it ). if she had a better upbringing, i imagine that she'd still be flirty, but in a much more happy - go - lucky way. cherry rn is if you were flirting but you were depressed about it ( manic pixie dream girl to the tourists, catnip to the 'i can fix her' crowds, she thinks it's funny )

written in the google doc, but something i want to incorporate here, too, is that she has a strenuous relationship with her grandparents ( specifically her grammy, smthn, smthn, mother / daughter / granddaughter / mirrors of each other, smthn, smthn ), but her grandparents love her friends. probably always willing to host them and loves them down and likely treat them better than they treat cherry — but no worries because cherry really is a problem child and she knows it.

takes her job very seriously — maybe, too seriously — as a romance advice columnist. unfortunately, she works for a print newspaper that has very little readers so she probably makes the gang buy it / write in / read her stuff.

wannabe dark academic, wants to be an academic so badly but is only high school educated. too poor to afford uni but also — smart, but not smart enough to get any scholarships, so forwent uni altogether and stayed in hitheside ( i wrote in her app that she, essentially, has average-pretty-girl-shackled-to-hometown syndrome and that's the best way i can describe her )

all she wants is to not be her mother <3 OR her grandmother <3 and the best way to do that is to be a slut ( honorific )!

PART FIVE [ TIES & RELATIONSHIPS ] ﹕

wanted connections include: the #Girlies, former enemies / did not get along but now they're as thick as thieves, i could fix them but tbh whatever wrong with them seems funnier, daily clown convention, it's rotten work [ to take care of me ] / not to me it isn't, i want to bite you ( positive ), alternatively i want to bite you ( negative ).

thank u sm for reading ( im so sorry ) my rambling, i'm so so excited to plot with you all and write and be so happy about our babies!!

song credit ( cinnamon girl by lana del ray, empty arena edit ) goes here!

#hitheintro #i cannot stress enough how SORRY i am #chronic cannot shut up disease

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