Lets Hope This Intro Is Better - Tumblr Posts

prelude :     wishful thinking .    i'm always breaking my own heart

[  camila queiroz  &  she/her &  cisfemale  ]  :  my  oh  my,  is  that  PANDORA DAWSON  in  bon  temps  ?  what  the  hell  are  they  up  to  hanging  around  BON TEMPS CEMETERY  listening  to  BIRD  by  BILLIE MARTEN  when  they  should  be  doing  whatever  a  ASSISTANT LIBRARIAN  does  ?  between  you  and  i,  the  24  year  old  MEDIUM  is  avoided  for  acting  GUILELESS ,  but  whenever  they  let  their  SELFLESS  side  shine  through  people  flock  to  them.  i  guess  they're  in  town  because  THEY'RE ON THE RUN.  explains  some  of  it,  though  i  can't  help  but  wonder  if  there's  more  to  a  CRIES OF THE LAMBS BEFORE THE SLAUGHTER, A BLUE HUMMINGBIRD LANDING ON YOUR HAND  story.   ───  lenny,  25,  est+2,  she/her.

I. YOU DO NOT REMEMBER THE WARMTH of your mother’s womb or the voice of your father ;  you remember sprouting from the earth with murmurs of wind in your heart and the rustling of leaves in your hair ,  whisked away too soon by the hands of parents who could never begin to comprehend a child like you .   in your earliest memories you wander through the garden ,   days in the sun ,   glued to the soil or hanging your wobbly knees from apple trees .    you could feel worms crawling beneath your palms and hear the ground shift and tremble with new life, and you felt each vibration travel through your body like lightning .  

II. YOUR MOTHER’S FACE always comes in dreams ,   blurred details you can’t make up .  you think you miss her, but maybe that’s another wish ---  you can’t really miss something you never had .   your true maternal figures are the nuns  ,    who took in the baby left in the cold to die and welcomed her into their home .  you learned how to sing all their hymns, and partake in their rituals ,   you learned to find faith in the strangest of places ,    and that the sun would always rise ,   no matter how dark or long the night was .  

III. YOU FOUND SOLACE in nature, in your stories and fantasies, and let it make a home of your bones and marrow.  you worshiped the trees and the pages between your fingers as much as any angel you prayed to at night .   you dreamed of a world so much bigger than the one you’d been confined to .   your knees were always bruised, your shoes were always dirtied, and you were never there in time for dinner .  

V. ONE DAY YOU WOKE UP   with a terrible feeling pressed to your chest ,  as if something desperately wanted you to flee that place .     the nunnery had always been home --- you’d never known anything else ,   and all you could feel was fear .   in the dead of night , you followed the scuffling that soon turned into bloodied screams  —  there, dressed in nothing but a flimsy nightgown, you rushed to find an army of black-eyed creatures  ,    and the only place you’d ever called home engulfed by flames  .   you were paralyzed, until something grabbed your arm and pulled it tight enough to leave a scar --- and then all you saw was darkness.    you don’t remember anything after that ,   but waking up on top of a pile of ashes ,   surrounded by the corpses of those you once called friends .   as if some force was guiding you by the hand, you started running ,   and you didn’t stop until your legs caved ,   and your body tumbled to the floor.

VI.  YOU KNEW YOU COULD NEVER GO BACK. whatever shadow of a life there had been was no more — so you ran away, as far as your feet would carry you ,  but you never seemed to arrive anywhere.  so, you just walked… you walked, and walked, and walked --- until you stumbled upon a small pawn shop,  and an old woman wrapped a blanket around your tired shoulders and told you it was gonna be okay. 

VII.  THAT DAY STAYED WITH YOU ,   months later and you still wake up in cold sweat in the dead of night ,   to beady black eyes staring back at you from the dark corners of your room .      you turn on the light --- there’s nothing there ,       but you live everyday looking over your shoulder, wondering when whatever’s chasing you will finally catch up .

some random hcs bc i can’t be stopped !

pandora was abandoned as a child and she grew up in a nunnery, so she literally knows and understands very little of the outside world

she’s been living in bon temps for 5 months now - everything is still relatively new to her, she’s learning how to cope with the outside world

has a cat named mr.midnight that she brought from the nunnery and even though he’s a lil fucker she’d literally die 4 him

pandora gets easily overwhelmed by people - she’s sensitive, and doesn’t like to pry, so you’ll more than likely see her wearing a pair of gloves if she’s out in public

she’s either reading or sketching in her spare time - either way, you’ll probably find her at the library or the cemetery

she really enjoys the quietude of the cemetery, how peaceful it feels. unlike what most people believe, there’s less spiritual activity than one would expect - most of the souls there don’t mean harm, and she tends to leave fresh flowers in the abandoned graves in hopes this will offer some comfort to the ones who do

if you told her the moon was made of cheese she might actually believe u tbqh

if u a demon:

this is all enough clownin’ come plot w me