maskormenacelogs | you're ripped at every edge

WHO: Rosita Espinosa & various.
WHERE: various
WHEN: throughout July
WHAT: a July catch-all! some closed starters, some open ones, specifics and will be in the thread starters, more to be added through the month.
WARNINGS: likely reference to death, violence, the undead and potentially cannibalism. Anything else I'll add here as they come up.
NOTE: I tend to do all my starters in prose, but brackets are totally fine! I'll match style with whatever works best for you.

( closed to Walking Dead cast - Heropa. )
( ooc - happy to do individual and group threads, just indicate in the subject line what you'd prefer so if others tag in they know if they can join in or start something new :]b )

Rosita Espinosa is not a famously patient person. She'll hold her silence for days, she'll wait and she'll watch and be as still as a person might need to be to survive world as messed up as theirs, but that doesn't mean she particularly enjoys it. More relevantly, she isn't really a fan of the stupid and the inane.

She's had a lot of those two things this past month, largely in the form of the ridiculous job this place saddled her with, and the absurd contractual obligations that brought with it.

When she's not busy and pulled away and training in things she didn't believe were actual serious things a person ever needed to learn how to do, Rosita is finally flopped in a park, and slowly types up a text that goes to Rick, Daryl, Carl and Enid. She doesn't even know Enid, but she figures she should try to. World might be fucked up and make no sense, but that wasn't a reason to neglect the people that her family considered family, or however they all pieced together.

The text is simple - a place, mention of pizza, a brief comment on being back in town and that work was bullshit, and an offer to catch up. The place is a park, and whenever anyone arrives she is lying down in the sun, freshly collected pizza boxes steaming beside her, and though she looks relaxed she truly, truly is not. The sound of footsteps has her sitting up fast, as if the entire process of lying down was really just a preparation for sitting back up again.

Spotting a familiar face makes her scowl ease away and the corner of her mouth quirk just slightly, briefly, before the evidence of such a thing disappears. "Hey."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( There's a fractional pause before she replies. Not out of suspicion, that was wiped almost the moment Daryl and Carl both confirmed Enid was one of them. Rosita just takes her time to warm up to people, and she's so accustomed to them all being together, all being a unit. The time displacement and the prospect of meeting someone important to the others and trying to work out how they all fit together didn't make her nervous, she was just conscious of it, aware.

Probably she'd have to get used to that, here. )

Thanks.

( For her part, Rosita flips open the box of pizza, nudging it closer to Enid. ) No anchovies.

( It's part joke, part serious - they're scavengers, survivors. If food wasn't food they liked that didn't matter. But even so - screw anchovies. )

[It comes as no surprise that Rosita pauses for a fraction of a second. Though Enid, too, is just growing accustomed the apparent unit they form. To the fact that now the other female survivor is around, on friendly, speaking terms with her even, which is new. So they both have something to adjust to, it seems.

She smiles just a little seeing the pizza box opened, with the mention of no anchovies.]

Cool, and thanks, I guess.

[Likewise, she pulls open the bag and sets it on the table, turning it a little toward Rosita for her to choose to grab chips from or not. It's only a small offering in the end, anyway, so no a big deal either which way.]

Not a fan of anchovies either. [She states, before taking one pizza slice in hand, looking it over not because she doesn't trust it but to see what it did have.]

( It's the offer that counts - the solidarity. Give as much as take, even in small things. Sure, buying stuff isn't normally on the equation, and really she'd not have given it a moment's thought if Enid hadn't brought anything over. The fact that she did? It's a plus, a bonus point. As such, Rosita takes a couple of chips, because taking and appreciating was important, too.

There's no you're welcome, just the flicker of a smile that's gone almost before it's noticeable and the slight angling of her head.

The pizza is simple - pepperoni, mushrooms, olives, but Rosita leaves off taking a slice in favour of eating the chips. )

Weird, right? The minute we have options, we get fussy.

A little. [Or, well, a lot. It really goes without saying that having a choice of foods to eat again changes a lot of things. It's nice, she figures, for the most part. And sooner rather than later she decides the pizza checks out okay for what she is cool eating and takes a tentative first bite, chewing and swallowing.]

I'm not complaining. [About there being options, of course. Besides.] Pizza is good. [She smiles again for all of a millisecond whether Rosita sees or not, and holds up her slice. It's meant as a relatively silent gesture meaning thanks again or something of that nature.]

( Rosita catches the brief glimmer of smile, files the information away, and behind her hand - eternally wrapped in fingerless gloves, of course - she smiles one of her own.

She angles her head, a silent sort of yeah, me neither, and with her hand dropping to grab more chips the lingering evidence of her smile is more open, even if it's subtle. )

I'd be a lot less calm if we'd wound up in some world with no pizza. ( Dry, flat, that particularly deadpan brand of humour. )

[It wouldn't matter much either which way if there was no pizza, as far as Enid is concerned. But that particularly deadpan brand of humour is super effective and, in her amusement, her lip twitches up at the corner again just at the idea.]

Why? You could claim to be the one to invent it, in a world where pizza didn't exist yet.

( There is a long pause, a turn to look away from Enid and back at her, a dramatic fluidity to the motion, and Rosita looks up at the sky with apparent disgust. )

Shit.

( This is Clearly The Worst. Which looks pretty similar to Not Quite The Worst and Really Bad But Nowhere Near The Worst, on Rosita. )

[As much as parts of Rosita's reaction seems to be just an act, something tells her it isn't. That maybe she made a mistake even joking about the matter of inventing pizza, because honestly, she didn't know how serious she was about pizza. Maybe she was more serious than she thought?

Which is why her expression tugs confusedly at the corners.]

Does it matter? You have pizza anyway.

( Rosita might deserve that. It's what she gets for being so damn... severe. Her mouth quirks in a little smile. )

I was kidding. Lost chance to become a millionaire.

( Before she grabs a slice and takes a bite, ) I've been told I'm hard to read, sometimes.

you're ripped at every edge

WOW I actually have no idea how I missed replying to this already tbh

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