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 Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2008 5:49 pm
>> Come on people. One more spot.
If anyone that's already join knows anybody that would want to, please ask! :O
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Posted: Thu Feb 21, 2008 1:10 pm
Holy fish sticks!
One more spot!
ONE!
Fiiillll iiit~!
The twinkys compel you to fill it~!
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Posted: Sun Feb 24, 2008 4:09 pm
I also Compell you people to join.
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Posted: Mon Feb 25, 2008 7:06 pm
Come on people, join so we can start this mosh pit!
*fist shake* YOU WILL JOIN!!!
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Posted: Mon Feb 25, 2008 7:16 pm
Why don't we uhm...
Move it to Barton Forums?
We could probably easily fill the spot in.
sweatdrop
PLEASE.
Before I decide to remake my profile a THIRD time.
D:
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Posted: Wed Feb 27, 2008 10:00 pm
I am thinking of moving this thread to Barton forums, also because I've been told it will be (should have been already) moved to the dead zone due to inactivity. When I finally move it there, I'll PM everyone to let them know and give them the link.
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Posted: Fri Feb 29, 2008 4:38 pm
Oh! Don't do that! I just finished my profile!
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Posted: Fri Feb 29, 2008 8:51 pm
Well we'll see. So far it hasn't been moved!
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Posted: Fri Feb 29, 2008 9:02 pm
The last needed spot has been filled! We are offically starting! I'm leaving for a dayish so I will have the first post up probably by Monday and we can finally get started! :3
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2008 5:52 pm
I shall be writing post soon... D: Sick, will probably do tomorrow-ish.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2008 4:28 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2008 6:17 pm
 >>Fate<<The girl rolled off her bed and landed on the ground with a reassuring thud. It jolted her awake and she rolled into a crouching position as her eyes shifted around the room. Finding no signs of evil, she gingerly replaced herself on her bed piled with pillows and blankets. Shifting slightly, she laid on her back staring up at the ceiling. Letting her head loll to a side, she realized something weird about her room. There was no alarm clock going off. Frowning slightly, she looked over at the mechanical piece of crap and groaned. She didn't have to do anything for another three hours. Burrowing deep into her blankets she fell back asleep.
Finally rays of beautiful sunshine came through the cracks in the blinds. Of course, seeing as it was Fate, she didn't enjoy it at all. The girl was anything BUT a morning person. If anything she wanted to stay in bed for as long as she could. It was a miracle she was still intact with no broken bones or bullet wounds. As for her head though? Well lets just say she didn't have a great run in with people the previous night. They came back for her. Just like they said they would. As she was walking home from the park, SerpentLAND's gang had tried to recruit her again. Fate was positive they had some form of weapon with them when they spotted her. With that uneasy feeling settling in her stomach, she went along with it.
Then the trouble began. Not only were they known for their distribution of weapons, but for drugs as well. She was walking on thin ice when she stepped foot in SerpentLAND Hangout. After a few uneasy looks around, a 'friendly' shove and a tiny threat, Fate did it. She popped a few pills and was swept off her feet. She was hallucinating for a few hours and the whole time the guys that brought her there told her she'd want more. Fate denied it and they only laughed. Since they didn't want the Red-Neo's to get her, they helped her sneak in back to the orphanage.
Now there lay Fate. A wreck. More than that. A horrible, cranky and overly-exhausted wreck. With a moan, she pushed herself off the bed and stumbled out of the room. "Bella?" The girl croaked warily as she rubbed her eyes. Almost running into a wall, she shook her head. She knew she couldn't go to the woman asking for something for a headache. It would be suspicious. Oh no, instead she hitched up her pants and threw on that fake smile. The one that seemed to fool everyone around her and went on a hunt. She decided that morning that she would help the woman with whatever she needed. It would most certainly shock a few people seeing as she was up this early as well.
[Sorry if it doesn't make sense. I just realized this place was open.]
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2008 6:21 pm
Belladonna sat in the waiting room of the law offices of Swords and Dunley with her hands tightly clasped together. She was hesitant about leaving the orphanage for so long, but she needed to speak with a lawyer as soon as possible so there was no other choice. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked ahead at the painting a cross the foyer. Her peach colored eyes shifted over the scene scape framed in black, smiling faintly at the trees that were lightly dusted in snow. The image was pretty and quite surreal, especially when just a turn of the head you could see the bustling streets of New York. Her slim fingers smoothed out over her black pencil skirt as she waited patiently to be seen. Her anxieties were evident; she always wore her emotions on her sleeves, she needed to learn to fix that. Bella though was just an emotionally vibrant woman, that was what everyone loved about her.
Wielding a degree in theology and sociology, Bella was equipped with the skills to both spread faith and understand the human mind. She took this ability and put it to good use, opening the Saint Glory Orphanage. But now it seemed all her hard work was being threatened and smothered with the appearance of the powerful company Wilburn and Fairchild Enterprise. But none the less she would not give up. She had God on her side and that was all she needed.
She straightened her back with that thought of power and turned to look at the secretary. Her eyes flicked briefly to the clock just behind her, it was early morning. She had left the children in the care of one of her many helpers at the orphanage, but she hated to be a way long. She smiled at the thought of them; those children were her life. She woke up each morning because of them. She would not let some greedy old man take away their world. She huffed and shook her head, reaching down and shifting through her black bag. She withdrew a worn black leather bound bible with gilded edges and a simple cross on the front in gold paint. She opened the book to the marked page and began to read quietly--might as well pass the time.
Growing up in the outbacks of Louisiana as a preacher's daughter had instilled in her a strong since of faith. The difference though between herself and the other bible bumpers of the world was that she left her mind open, not only to her faith but the others. She believed God came to us in all shapes and form, appearing as what suited best for each individual. She turned the page slowly and looked down at a tear in the rug just next to her foot. The orphanage rode on the back of the money she had inherited and she couldn't spend a lot on a lawyer. But she had heard good marks for the law office, so she tried her best not to judge the book by its cover. She crossed her feet at the ankles, black heels scrapping against the worn out carpet.
Dear Lord... please let this man be the right man. Please let him guide us and be our savior in this time of need... she sighed, fingering the cross that hung loosely around her neck. Oh please Lord, let us be saved...
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2008 6:58 pm
Justin Beltran loved his chair. It was expensive, black leather and shiny chrome, and, more importantly, it was extremely comfortable. He never could have bought it himself, not with the modest paychecks at Swords and Dunley, just like he couldn’t have afforded the minimalism chrome and glass desk, top of the line computer, and matching armchairs; all of these things had been graduation presents from his family.
At the moment, he was sure that his beloved chair was the only thing keeping him sane. He steepled his fingers, hoping that they wouldn’t somehow betray how much he wanted to strangle the man sitting across from him, and steeled himself for the consequences of attempting to explain the situation a fourth time. “Mr. Andrews, I’m not sure this is getting through to you,” he said, not impolitely, but with a definite sharp edge to his voice that hadn’t been there the second or even the third time through, “We are not going to win the case. There is not going to be a miracle; there is not going to be a way out. If we don’t change strategies, you are going to lose parental rights altogether.”
The heavyset man he was addressing scowled. “I’m not admitting I violated the agreement.” He growled for the seventh or eighth time, “She has no right to have a restraining order on me, anyway.”
Justin’s jaw went tight, his blue eyes suddenly very cold. The other man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Alright, Mr. Andrews,” Justin softly said after a moment, closing the case file with a certain slow finality, “ I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mr. Andrews nodded, his broad face nervous as he got to his feet and slipped out the door. Justin noted with a certain vindictive satisfaction that the man shut it as though afraid to disturb a sleeping lion. “Idiot,” he muttered, then pressed the intercom button that connected him to Julie. “Julie? Is my 4:30 here?”
“Yes, Mr. Beltran,” came Julie’s slightly amused voice. She knew that he was perfectly aware that the time was now almost five; if he’d been the client, he probably would have left by now. “Would you like me to send her in?”
“Yes, please,” he replied, unruffled. “Oh, and Julie? Could you please figure out exactly who assigns assigned court cases, call them, and ask them why I seem to be getting so many?”
“Yes, sir.” The amusement more pronounced now. Justin pressed the button to turn off the intercom, and leaned back in his chair, trying to draw some energy from these few moments of peace.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2008 10:05 pm
Eric was up at seven o'clock sharp, just like every morning. He sat up, stretched his arms towards his toes, and pushed his body over so that he could lean on the wall and sit straight. He crossed his legs and meditated for the next half hour. He thought about the previous night, how the Red-Neo's tried to recruit him again. He had to learn to take a new route on his thought-walks or there could be trouble. The tattoo might help to saw that he was no good for their needs, but what if they called in his old owners? No, there had to be another way...
By eight, Eric had finished his morning contemplation, gotten dressed and was eating breakfast: a big bowl of cereal. He looked over the note that Bella had left for them again. It said, in short, "Gone to do some errands and then an appointment. I will be back around six. Love, Bella." Awfully nice of her to leave this note, Eric thought. I wonder what sort of appointment it is? No, but I won't pry. If she wants to tell us then she will. Just then he heard a few groans and some heavy steps. Fate must be up early. "Bella?" Yup. Eric called out, "Bella's not here right now, Fate. She's out on some errands according to this note. What do you need?" He hoped that she hadn't been harassed by either gang the previous night. It was unusual for her to be up before ten, but perhaps she was finally coming around to the joys of an early start. Dream on, Eric. Dream on.
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