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 Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2010 1:21 pm
Keeping in mind that this is a RP guild, it would be beneficial to hold contests in which we use our skills to win us lovely things, yes? Yes.
This being said, I've created a contest for us to get us going. All you have to do is write a detailed and in-depth introduction of any character. It can be in any POV you wish but has to be more than a single paragraph. Quantity and quality count this time around!
Prizes:
1st place: 100,000 gold
2nd place: 50,000 gold
3rd place: 20,000 gold
Entries will be judged by myself and because I don't know any of you, it will completely unbiased! You all have 3 days to post your entries. You may post them here. smile
Good luck!
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2010 8:25 pm
Oh dear... I wonder if it would be ethical for me to enter this little contest.
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2010 9:30 pm
┏☆ 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔠𝔞 ☆ 𝔧𝔲𝔫𝔢 ☆ 𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔩 ☆┓
Rebecca had never been one to sleep well. Every night after finishing her favorite television program, she'd get up and close all the windows. Then lock the doors. Always checking them twice. Then she'd climb up the stairs. After picking a nightgown from her top drawer, it was time for a shower. Hand ran over the left knob, hot water. Climb in and bath.
After, dry her hair and get in bed.
At this time, Rebecca was always still wide awake. It was useless, she couldn't get to sleep this early. Eventually after counting a thousand sheep or so, the girl would finally fall into a sleep. Most of the time it was a comfortable sleep, thank god.
She always woke up at the same time. Every single morning. 5:37. No different. Not sooner, not later. On the dot. And almost every night, her sleep was accompanied by a nightmare. A nightmare of memories. Her life as a child and a teenager. She always remembered them clearly because in reality, they happened.
Sometimes though the were over exaggerated, or something new would happen. She remembered them so clearly. Every single detail. Every sound and feeling. The colors were vibrant. She remembered it all.
Now Rebecca laid there in bed, still sleeping. But her sleep wasn't pleasant, for she was having another nightmare.
-
'Rebecca! Get you little behind over here. Now, tell me something! Did you do this?' And poor little Rebecca with the frightened expression would look down at the mess on the tiled floor. Glass was shattered everywhere. A beautiful vase it had been, home made too. Rebecca would shake her head violently. 'No ma'am, I would never!' The lady's eyes never left Rebecca's face.
Her lips were a bright red, obviously she was trying to hard. Her hair was a dark brunette. She was very tall, atleast in comparison to the young girl. She always wore the tallest and shiniest heels. A married rich woman with two daughters. Rebecca's mother was their maid. Therefore Rebecca was always at the lady's mansion, expected to play with the twins. Of course those twins were spoiled. The were little mean things too, and did not appreciate Rebecca's company. They abused it. Often they'd pull pranks, and decided to knock the family antique vase over. Break it. And then blame it on the poor girl.
'You lying brat!' The lady barked. 'I promise I didn't do it Mrs. Howard! It was Ashley and Alexis! They did it!' The girl snarled at her, and leaned down. She got in the little girl's face, 'Oh really? You are lying you poor brat. Did your mother ever teach you not to blame things on others?'
With that last sentence Mrs. Howard picked the tiny girl up by the shoulder, and threw her down.
'Clean it up peasant girl!' She pointed at a few pieces, 'Every. single. piece.'
Rebecca's expression was distraught. Tears rolled down her chubby little cheeks. She leaned down and started picking up the fine pieces of glass. One piece pricked her finger, and she whispered a quiet ow. The woman watched, her hand placed comfortably on her hip. Rebecca was incredibly slow, feeling weak from her crying. Mrs. Howard pushed her down and started yelling at her to clean faster. When Rebecca broke down in sobs, and failed to clean faster Ms. Howard shover her face in the titled ground like you would shove a dogs nose in it's droppings. 'Clean it!'
Mrs. Howard walked out of the hallway then. The clicking of her heels echoed against the hallway halls. And Rebecca was left there, cleaning up the mess that wasn't her's and sobbing. Her face was cut from the glass aswell as her fingers.
-
Rebecca sat up quickly in her bed, a whimper escaping her lips. Her hands were plastered to her face and covering her eyes. She could almost feel the stings from the cuts of the glass. She removed her hands from her face, whipping away at the water forming at her eyes. She was to old to whine about that anymore.
Lifting the sheets, she threw them to the other side of the bed. Slowly she climbed out of bed, her feet tip toeing against the wooden floor, to her bathroom. She turned the left knob, like usual. Warm water. She undressed out of her nightgown and silently stepped in. She pulled the shower curtains behind her, and simply stood under the rushing water.
Steam filled the bathroom. Rebecca closed her eye's and thought over what had happened after that incident with the vase.
Mrs. Howard had apologized to Rebecca the next day. It was her mother's shift at the house again, and she had wondered where the cuts came from. Mrs. Howard told her about the vase. Seeing as she couldn't lose one of her clients, Rebecca's mother, Mary, didn't complain to much about it. She hated to see the scared look in Rebecca's eyes each time they entered the house. But oh, Mrs. Howard tried her best to regain the girl's trust. Her tries were to no avail. Rebecca would never trust the woman again.
Ms. Howard came up with excuses. She was drunk that day. She didn't know what she was doing. Rebecca didn't care for the excuses, she just carried on dealing with the family, for her mother's sake.
Shampooing was finished. She opened her eyes again and held her hand out. One, two, three drops of conditioner. Her hands tangled into the mess of wet hair on her head, scrubbing at the scalp. After washing it out, her hair smelled like peaches and pineapple. It put a smile on the dreary face.
The water stopped as she turned the Knob back the other way. Rebecca stepped out, dried off, and tied the towel so it wouldn't fall.
Upon entering her closet, Rebecca had no idea what to wear. Fortunately, her eye's lit up when they fell on a simple black dress with a white belt. She pulled it away from it's hanger and slipped it on. It had that sudden, slimming effect. Any girl loved that. Rebecca was fortunate enough to inheriate her mother's figure. Lean and tall. Her bust wasn't to heavy, but it filled her body just right. Her hair was long, traveling to her mid-thigh. An odd purple color, that had always distinguished her for her. She tightened the belt around her waste, and slipped on a pair of black, knee high boots. She was a sucker for a good pair of boots. It had only been in the recent years that she'd became so comfortable with herself.
It was a wonder how the girl kept her skin clean, clear, and awake. You'd think with the sleep she was getting, her eye's would be baggy and dark. And her skin, greasy. But no, it stayed clear and light. She never did have to worry about that.
She applied minimal eyeliner to her face, and mascara.
Today she had the day off from her busy lifestyle. She worked busily on a newspaper. She wrote articles. Her deadlines were met early, so today was a free day. On the side she worked as a performer, a theater girl at heart. The community theater was full of welcoming actors and actresses, and a great stage too.
Today it was sunny, no need for a coat. So she grabbed her purse, her keys, and headed out the door. She locked it behind her, and busted into the busy streets. She wore a soft smile on her lips. 'Today will be great, I hope..' she thought.
While Rebecca walked down the street her eye's fell upon many different things. First, the people. New York City was always such a busy city, alive day or night. Business men and women, children, teenagers, taxes, street performers, bums, newspaper stands and much more. The variety was everywhere. The cultures mixed here. It was astounding.
Second, the buildings. She hadn't looked at them in years. It seemed she was one of the many who had forgotten about the beauty of New York's architecture. They stood tall, unafraid. Like bulls.
Last but not at all the least, she watched the behavior. People had become so rude these days. Bumping into you without an apology, yelling at the bums who were asking for them to share their wealth. Stealing the cab someone was just about to jump into. That was the thing about New York that had always put Rebecca off. She couldn't stand to watch the disruption of humanity their behavior displayed. But of course, she did anyway.
Reaching the corner of 1st street, Rebecca pushed the walk-across sign, waiting for the little man to come up on the signal box. Once it did, she shuffled forward, her right hand clutching the strap on her purse. The city was loud. It was full of buzzing cars, yelling, and the clicking of shoes. It was like music to the young woman's ears. She could make rythms and beats out of it.
She was at the corner of another street now. A man around the same age as her came up behind her. His voice was loud, reassuring and happy. He was the type of man who was certain of himself; a true business man.
As he spoke Rebecca turned around, her own smirk across her face.
"Miss!" She stood there, her hands crossed infront of her chest. "Yes sir?"
"Today is your lucky day." He continued, hiding something behind his back.
"Oh and why is that?" she laughed, playing along with the man.
"Why! I have a great deal for you today!"
Rebecca noticed then, the silver and red booth just feet away from him. He was a sales man, or something of the sort. "I'm sorry, I don't need a new vacuum cleaner." She shrugged, her hair moving to one side.
"My dear, I don't sell those." He laughed, the same genuine smile still plastered to his face.
"Really? To bad, I really did need a new one." She shook her head and mouth an 'oh-well.'
"Look here," he said waving his hand like you would to swat a fly at her expression, as if to get rid of it. Rebecca nodded, deciding she'd let the man go on.
"See this?" he moved his hand in front of him, his palm open. In his hand was a ring. "Ruby."
Rebecca's eyebrow arched as she played along taking interest.
"Well I do I like it," she admitted.
Rebecca looked the man over. He was tall, lean, and slightly tan. His bangs fell in his face just above his eyes, not covering them. His eye's were a forest green, and his smile was big. The man pulled his pants up slightly before getting down on one knee. He held the ring box open infront of her. "Would you marry me?"Rebecca exaggeratedly swung her hands open on her chest while surprised expression took over.
By now people on the street were smiling, and saying things like 'aww' and 'how cute!'. They believed it was actually going on, a true proposal. It was humorous to the man, and to Rebecca. Putting a finger to her lip, thinking, Rebecca commented on it, "How much?"
He looked up into her eyes, "Only 199.99."
Rebecca thought for a moment more before shrugging and shaking her head. "Nah."
You could here gasps in the crowd when she declined. The man stood up and laughed slightly. Rebecca walked off, almost skipping in her steps. 'Yes, it for sure will be good.'
[ ooc ; I hope I did this right. I just picked a random character I had once for a roleplay and made a total new intro for her. I assumed it was just any random character, and since I just join this guild today, I don't have one for any of these roleplays. ]
She's got her own thing, that's why I love her.
Miss Independent, won't you come and spend a little time?
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 7:26 am
All is well in this fallacious amicability. That bright, golden orb hung precariously in the bright, blue sky casting its warm glow on the peaceful inhabitants of the world beneath it; the omnipotent gaze of some long-forgotten deity who so lovingly kissed the luscious bosom of Gaia. Resplendent digits stroked wantonly amidst the verdant fields which rose in splendor to receive its lover's touch.
But, alas! One cannot know, cannot grow to appreciate, what it is to live in peace and harmony without the destructive forces of war and chaos. Blackened clouds rumbled across the illusory perfection, a venal blemish in this beautiful world. Crisp striations stabbed across the darkness, its flashing light casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance their way into life with each electrical impulse.
The heavens above opened their gates and unleashed a torrential downpour, the woeful lamentations of the angels silenced by the thunderous caterwauls emitted by the turmoil unfolding below. Each fat drop of angry water splashed against the heaving form of the earth beneath. The once lush fields were now overly saturated, the loamy soil quickly soaking up the generous rains creating a murky, bewildered state of consciousness across the lands.
And beneath this furor, perhaps because of the turbulent forces at work, she awoke. That vengeful harbinger of death, the chaotic malevolence given corporeal form, the metaphysical abhorrence that was called Adauchi no Ryuujin.
Pallid fingers dug furiously through the wet soil, gouging deep wounds from within the womb of Gaia until that earthy deity groaned in dispair and split apart, giving birth to its demise. Sallow appendages burst forth, hands frantically clawing at the nothingness they emerged into before finding fistfuls of earth to cling to.
Gripping, grabbing, pulling, she forced herself into materiality as her head emerged from the gaping wound. A cadaverous yawn, blanched skin stretched taut across bony features, thin lips that twisted wrenched themselves apart as the creature gasped for its first breath of life before excreting its baleful exclamation of existence.
Planting the palms of her hands against the drenched soil, she forced the earth to birth the rest of her body, crawling from its inky entombment until pale feet emerged. She rose to her feet, her body jerkily becoming accustomed to its freedom. The afterbirth, that muddy earth, ran down the length of her body in murky rivulets as the rains rinsed her clean.
Heavily lashed lids flicked away the drops of rain that battered her face. A pink muscle slipped from between her lips, lapping at the waters that pooled in the corners of her mouth. Ragged, worm-eaten burial cloths hung from the woman's emaciated body. What bits of pale flesh that wasn't concealed stretched taut across her skeletal form while dark, hellish orbs that sunk beneath even darker lids regarded the destruction her birth had caused.
Matted tangles of greenish-brown hair clung to Adauchi's skull, though it looked as if someone had yanked out several small patches; perhaps in a previous skirmish, it would seem, those deep gouges that ran the length of her arms and slashed the side of one cheek held many secrets. Though the wounds were healing, the blackened scabs left behind made the wounds appear to be more vicious than they truly were.
Unaware of any who may have laid witness to her birth, she took a nimble step forward. Again, the earth groaned as its unwanted child began her path to chaos. Arms flayed wide apart, palms of her hands turned upward, she tilted her head back, opening the wide expanse of her mouth as insane laughter danced with the darkened shadows. Adauchi smiled, her bare toes digging into the melancholic earth, delighting in the warmth of her mother's bosom. Tiny fists formed at her side before she dropped to a knee, her fist slamming into her mother's earthy core. Blackened waves rolled across the fields, annihilation of existence as Adauchi fed on the energies of her Gaian mother, drawing them into her own body.
Matricide.
The act of killing one's own mother.
(Sorry, don't have a picture for this character. I haven't exactly found one that suits her, but I feel my description of her is suitable.)
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 8:12 am
Oh my goodness! So, the deadline will be on the 21st, right? I better think of a good introduction... Oh my...
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 12:40 pm
x x x x ╔══════════════╗ Chug-a-lug chug a lug
Makes ya wanna holla hidy hoe,
Burns your tummy don't you know
Chug-a-lug chug-a-lug ╚══════════════╝ ♍ Gεɱɱɑ ℳαяiε ℑσѵσѵiɔɧ ♍ Яemember: "ℐ" before "ℰ" except in ℬudweiser! Gemma Marie Jovovich. Odd last name yes? Well, it can only be explained one way. Gemma was born in Russia to a Russian father and an American mother. Gemma's mother was a traveler, supported by her parents to explore the world. She had been every from. From Italy to Japan. Her mothers eyes had beheld some beautiful thing in her time. How Gemma's mother ended up in Russia? Well, Gemma doesn't really know. She had never asked her and her mother never talked about it. Maybe there were secrets behind it that her mother never wanted to reveal. That was okay with Gemma, she'd rather not know anyway. But, Gemma does know how her parents had met. Michelle Ann Steinburgen, Gemma's mother, had come to Moscow, Russia to see its sights and wonders. Michelle did not plan to stay in Russia long, but just long enough to see things she had always wanted to see. The first thing her mother encountered in Russia was the St. Basil’s Cathedral. It was the most beautiful thing Michelle had ever seen. The many colors on the building was a wonder to Michelle. She snapped pictures and went inside the big building. The walls were covered in just as many colors and beautiful designs that she had not seen anywhere in America before. There were arch ways that were beautiful for the eye to behold and carved into such intricate designs. More pictures were taken of this wondrous building as Michelle made her way through it. There were very high ceilings that went up and up and had windows at the very top. Chandeliers graced the ceilings with grace and beauty. Pictures of the saints were scattered on the walls in marvelous ways. Nothing that Michelle had ever seen before beat the beauty of this wonderful, beautiful, breath taking building. But, even though it seemed that there was enough magic inside these walls, something wonderful happened as Michelle wandered around, never really looking where she was going. Michelle ran into Marko Jovovich. Michelle apologized to the man, but without looking up. When Marko and Michelle's eyes met, it was almost an instant attraction. Both smiled and apologized more. Marko offered to take her around Russia to see more sights to make up for being so careless as to run into her. Michelle obliged and the rest is history.
Now, let's get back to Gemma. We'll start when she was born. Gemma was born two years after Marko and Michelle were married. Her birthday, the day her parents became very proud parents, was on July fourth of 1990. Yes, Gemma is an Independence Day baby. Marko and Michelle showered Gemma with love, and not to mention tons of things baby's really didn't care much about. Gemma's parents were entirely rich. Very rich and they spent their money spoiling their child. They were going to run out of money anytime soon. Gemma's mother inherited millions upon millions of dollars when he parents died in a car crash they year before Gemma was born. Gemma's father was the owner of an oil company spread across America and a factory that was built in Russia. Life for Gemma as a baby was wonderful. She had the best things and the best care a child could get. Gemma went to school in Russia and made many friends. She was popular because of her personality. Gemma is a very outgoing, determined and hyper extrovert. Not only that, but she is very blunt as well. She's the type of girl that says something before thinking...usually. There are times where Gemma will consider someones feelings before blurting something out, but most of the time her brain won't catch up with what she's saying until after she has said it. Gemma genuinely cares for people and she loves animals. So, lots of kids in school in Russia loved Gemma, but there were some that really didn't like her. It never bothered Gemma though. She was who she was and even as a small child, she was proud of that. Gemma continued to go to school in Russia until she was nine years old. Her fathers oil company and factory told him that he needed to move to America. Her obliged because he knew that his wife wanted to go back home. So, they moved to America when Gemma was nine years old. Gemma and her family moved to California. It was a very big change for Gemma and her father, but it was where her mother was originally from. It was hot weather there and Gemma was used to it being cold most of the year in Russia. Warm weather was not something she was used to. But Gemma took it like a man, even as a child. She never complained about. She just sucked it up and enjoyed the scenery. Gemma was immediately put into school near their home and Gemma made friends very quickly. Tons of kids still seemed to like her even though she was in America. That pleased Gemma. She had been worried that she would never fit in, being from Russia and being so white. But her personality seemed to cover her being Russian up. Though, lots of people loved her accent as well.
California didn't change Gemma, but it had her discover something she never knew she could do. Gemma realized that she had the talent of singing. Yes, singing. And she sang quite well. Gemma even began to take lessons for it. Her parents were proud to support her in that. While in elementary school, she would sing now and then in little productions that they did. A few girls in her class envied her and others hated her for what she could do. Gemma just ignored those who hated her. She went on with her singing. She would sing for anyone who asked her. Sometimes she would even sing just because she could. Though Gemma is a loud mouth and you could hear her talking from ten miles away when she's excited, she has a very soft singing voice. It's soothing and can help to relax someone when they are tense. Singing became a good escape for Gemma when she was in a bad mood or having a bad day. So, Gemma continued her singing, taking lessons for it as well. Elementary school seemed to fly by and Gemma went on to middle school, making more friends there and singing for everyone now and then. Gemma's grades were pretty good. There weren't straight A's, but she was going well enough to get in some good school when she was through with high school. Which, she approached high school quickly as well. Time seemed to be flying by for Gemma. But for a while time flying by was for the better because in the tenth grade Gemma found some people that wanted her to be in their band. Gemma quickly obliged to the to guys and one girl that asked her to join their band as the lead singer. For a while, they played in Gemma's garage, considering she had the nicest house and the best accommodations, practicing went on at her house. All was happy for Gemma as she went through high school, enjoying being in the band. They hadn't really made a name up for it until they reached their Senior year. The Unnatural Delegates. One of the guys in the band thought that it sounded cool. Gemma liked it and no one else seemed to be able to come up with anything more spiffy, so they took the name on for the band. The Unnatural Delegates had spots in certain places around town to play. Some of these places sold liquor. Little did anyone know that this would lead to Gemma's downfall. The band played around town, being paid good money for playing well. They thought that they could make it big and they planned on doing that when they graduated. We'll get back to that though. Meanwhile, Gemma and her band mates went around going to parties and such they were invited too. Gemma had never touched an alcoholic drink in her life, until one night her friends pestered her to try it. The memory was always fresh in Gemma's mind, no matter how much time passed her.
Gemma remembered the first time they had asked her if she wanted a sip of some fruity drink they had. If she remembered right, it was a strawberry kiwi wine cooler. Gemma had wrinkled her nose as they shoved the bottle at her. "No thanks guys. I don't want any" She had told them, trying to push the bottle away. They had just kept telling her it was good and they knew she'd love it if she just took a sip. Gemma had kept telling them no, but she finally had become tired of them pestering her. Clearly, she remembered taking the wine cooler from one of her friends' hands and put her lips to it, tasting it just a little before she actually had it in her mouth. Gemma had liked so much how it tasted on the mouth of the bottle, that she took a big swig. Her eyes were wide for a moment as the drink sloshed into her mouth, the taste of strawberry very prominent in the drink, the alcohol right behind it. Gemma had swallowed and smiled at her friends. "That's actually really good." She had told them with a big grin. Her friends had all cheered and laughed at her. At first, Gemma only drank two when she was out with her friends, but eventually they started showing what more there was out there and games that they could play that included alcohol. Gemma had really gotten into the whole drinking scene with her friends. She remembered one specific time when one of the guys from the band thought it would be a great idea to do body shots. Everyone started yelling for Gemma to do. Gemma immediately obliged and laid herself on the table. Her friend, let's call him David, licked her neck to moisten it. Then David poured sugar onto her neck and placed the lemon in Gemma's mouth with the edge in her mouth. Then David licked the sugar from her neck, drank the vodka and then sucked on the lemon. They did that a lot that night.....it ended up being the best night ever. If you get the drift. But that was just one game out of a million that they played. Gemma could talk about it to someone all day and all night. She had experienced so much with her band and she loved it all. Gemma eventually started drinking a lot more than two when they hit parties. Soon after that, she started to drink just because she wanted to. Her band didn't think anything of it because they did the same thing. Eventually, after having so much to drink every day of the week, Gemma's voice began to falter now and then. She didn't understand why and the fact that drinking so much was doing it, never came to her mind. The more drinking Gemma did, the more her voice began to slip. Gemma eventually quit the band because of it. A lot of happiness slipped out of her life when she did that. Her band was her whole life. So that just drove Gemma to drinking even more. She got a job and even tried going to college. Her parents were more than willing to pay for it all no matter where she went. So, Gemma went to college for about a month and then she quit that as well. Gemma did keep her job though. It was the only way she could get the liquor she wanted. For the longest time Gemma's parents had been slightly suspicious that something had been going on, but they didn't know what. Gemma hid her drinking pretty well. Gemma began to go out to parties with the people she worked with. So, that meant even more drinking. Sure, she'd wake up with a splitting headache and sensitive hearing, but she always enjoyed what came before that. Gemma thought nothing could stop her from drinking.
Of course, all this happened after Gemma graduated. But, the problem was she was only eighteen and nineteen when all of this happened. Underage drinking has always been illegal, but Gemma didn't care. It's a surprise she never got caught, but she never did. Gemma got away with her drinking. Her parents really didn't even realize that she was drinking. They knew something was going on, but they couldn't put their finger on what it was. The jig was up one day though. It came out of nowhere. Her parents confronted her about it and then told her she was being sent to rehab. The devastating news, well, devastating to Gemma, had just came to her this morning that her parents had figured out she was drinking. They had found the scotch bottle in her room stuck behind her headboard. Gemma thought she had gotten rid of everything when she had left the day before to go to a party with a co-worker. Apparently not. So, here Gemma lay on a bed that wasn't even hers, in an unfamiliar place and no idea what was going to happen while she was here.
Gemma sighed and sat up, her head swimming just a little as she rose up too fast. Her brown eyes wept across the room. Gemma was never one to cry, but she felt like doing it now. She didn't want to be in a place full of people she didn't know. She didn't want to be around crazy people, which she knew there had to be crazies around here somewhere. Gemma placed both her hands on her face and shook her head. Tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks and hit the edge of her palms. "I don't want to be here. I hate them for leaving me here by myself." She told herself, crying just a little bit more. Then Gemma straightened up and wiped her eyes, making herself stop crying. She figured she would go explore the place and see who else was here. Gemma threw herself off the bed and walked towards the door, she stopped for a moment, wiping her eyes one more time and then stepping out of the door. She looked back into the room, hoping no one would come in and snoop through her things. When that thought crossed her mind, she thought about going back into the room and sitting back on the bed. But Gemma shook her head. "No, I need to walk around so I can keep myself from getting depressed." He said to herself, but having the thought that she might would anyway no matter what she did. Gemma began to walk down the hall, looking at the bedrooms she passed. Suddenly, she passed one that had two people in it, a guy and a girl. Gemma smiled and knocked on the door. She slowly walked in, an eyebrow raised as she looked at the two that were in the room. The girl was very....well, extremely skinny. Her eyes moved to the boy and Gemma's smile became a bit bigger. The guy was very hot. She was impressed with his looks. Gemma waved a little and then slipped her hands into her pockets. "Hi. I'm Gemma. What's your names?" Gemma asked, still smiling as she walked over to them, holding out her hand for them to shake.
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 1:10 pm
As the sun shawn down through the branches of the trees, Alexandra unknowing petted the top of her pet ferrets head. Thinking of the time her and her father went hunter for the first time. Pain filled her heart as she remembered what event happened that day. A type of demon came, and tried to kill her and her father, luckily, Alexandra was able to survive. . Opening her eyes, she held back the tears that threatened to pour down her face. She never knew what happened to her father, the demon took him away, she didn't know whether he was killed afterward, or what.
With a quick motion. Her ferret, whose name is Louis, head rose and looked to the east. Eyes narrowed, it let out a small hiss. Widening her eyes, Alexandra put her hand over the knife she had attached to her right leg. Out of the shadows of the trees came a great demon of distruction, blood running from its mouth, with eyes burning like fire. It let out a hiddicous cry as it reared its head in anger. Quickly getting to her feet, Alexandra got into a defence position, lightly throwing Louis to the ground, to protect him.
The creature was made out of multiple demons and creatures that it had devoured. Out of the skin, came things like snakes, wiggling and swirling out of its body.
the beast had not yet attacked, afraid to make any quick motions in case that caused it to charge, she slowly started to back away, pushing Louis with her foot as she tried to get behind a big tree that would block the creaturs view, so she could make a run for it.
Suddenly Louis let out a yelp as Alexandra accedentally stepped on his tail. Eyes widening, Alexandra's head quickly turned to the beast. Its head rose, eyes glaring at her, with a motion of its feet, it ran at her. Heart racing with fear and excitement, Alexandra ran at it, the knife's blade in front of her. Letting out a battle cry as she jumped and landed right on the creatures back, piercing its flesh with the razor sharp blade.
Blood pouring from the beasts wound, it jumped around, trying to get her off its back. Handing on for dear life, Alexandra held onto the knife for support, and reached in her belt for another, longer, knife. Feeling the cold metal touch her skin, a rush of relief washed over her as she took the longer knife from the back of her belt. Just as she raised it into the air, about to strick it on the back of the neck, which would have killed it, the demon did one last final jump and knocked her off its back.
Blood running down the sides of its body, Alexandra got a little further away from the creature, realizing that she only had one knife left, since the smaller one was still stuck in the demons back.
Turning around, the demon let out a small chuckle. Anger filled her heart as she imagined that this was the demon that took her father away. "You disgusting monster!" Alexandra cried, "Why on earth are you attacking me? I have done no wrong!" The beast let out another laughed and spoke, "I need no reason, I mustn't explain myself to a human like yourself." And with that it ran at Alexandra. Not being ready for the next attack, and just barely dodged it. Cutting herself with her own knife, she winced, the demons body had hit her knife right into her, causing blood to rise to the wound and fall over her skin.
Turning on her heel, she jumped back a few hundred yards. Holding her hand over the cut to stop the bleeding. Suddenly, she heard a noise coming from behind her, scared it might be another demon, she jumped out of the way just in time to see a man riding on the back of a wolfs back. Landing on the ground, the wolf growled and the man got off, taking his bow and arrow from his back and set it up. Arrow pointing directly to the demon.
Laughing at the man, the demon ran at him. Dodge a few arrows as the man tried to hit him. Getting closer and closer, Alexandra's heart raced as she saw the man throw one last arrow at the demon, hitting it right in the middle of its forehead. Still running, it fell to the ground, sliding to a stop right in from of the man.
Not taking her eyes off the demon, she fell to the ground, shivers running through her entire body. The man put away his bow and arrows, turning to her, he bent down on his knees and looked at her. "Are you alright?" He spoke softly. His wolf went over to the demon, opening up its mouth, put it around the demons head and ripped it off, blood squirting from where its head had been. Laying down, the wolf chewed and gnawed on its head.
Taking her eyes away from the demons sight, she gazed up at the man. His face just inches away from hers. Not able to speak, she nodded. Standing up, the man took her hand and rose her to her feet.
It had been quite a few years since she had been this close to a man before. Her heart now raced with the new excitement that this man gave her. Pulling away, she was able to speak. "T-thank you, sir."
The man smiled, "Anytime...Alexandra." A small chuckle escaped from his lips.
So many thoughts raced through her head. How did this man know her name? where did he come from? And why is he so handsome!? Taking steps back to where Louis now sat, walking her, she picked up her brown leather pack and faked a smiled. "I really must be going. Thank you." She turned to leave, but suddenly, she felt the mans hand around her wrist....
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 5:13 pm
 “Would you like to die?”
There was an interesting thought, yes? A few simple words strung together and brought to life by the speaker, just a few simple words. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet it has been said that it is the simplest words that hold the greatest weight. Not that I actually ever believed that, I know some people who did but I did not. And neither did the person I am going to tell you about. You see I’m not the important one in this story, nope, not me. I’m just your average story teller, handing down a story from the times of old when my ancestors traveled from town to town and sung their words. I don’t sing, please don’t ask me to; it will be something you regret with your life. But my ancestors did tell one particular story and that’s the story I shall relate to you now. It is a story about a warrior to whom that question above was posed. There was just one problem, how to do you pose a question like that to someone who believes in neither life nor death? Let me introduce you to a warrior from the other worlds.
So let me give you a reality check while we are at it, there are other worlds. Sure, you don’t know about them but they are there my friend, they are there. That world you saw in your dreams? Yeah that was not a dream my friend, not a dream but a reality that you were witnessing in your sleep. Now I know what you are thinking, you’re just confusing me. If I see something in my sleep then it’s a dream right? Well I’ll let you believe that if you are not willing to hang onto my every word after all I’m not the most reliable source am I? No, I am part of a dying race of story tellers; in fact I’d say I’m one of the most unreliable narrators in this world or the others. Well that is aside from Holden Caulfield, he is a very unreliable narrator. But his story his nowhere near as good as this one. So let me reiterate, there are other worlds that you cannot get to, but the people in the other worlds can travel freely between their own realms, no one really knows why but the barrier for this world was sealed eons ago to protect the human race…and make it more stupid. But that’s another story. Our story begins with a ‘once upon a time’, so here goes.
Once upon a time there was a princess. Once upon a time there was a princess who watched her whole world come crashing down around her. Let me introduce you to a warrior from the other worlds, Princess Eva. You see every race creates its own little world where it can live in harmony with nature and not be bothered by other races. But some races are not nice like that, some races don’t want to leave people alone and that’s where the problem comes in. No one knew which race did it. No one knew which race savagely attacked the shadow demons while they slept and no one ever found out. Well, no one ever found out because when the knowledge was found it was put down to lies. but hey that is expected right? But back to the story. It was akin to the hand of god passing over Egypt and killing the firstborn while they slept. Except this shadowy hand did not only kill the firstborn, it killed every single member of the shadow race, every single dark creature that rested peacefully. It came in the darkest time of the night much like the fairies on midsummer's eve, it danced through the towns and cities, the castles and farms until the sleeping town was covered in the silence of death. No one was spared, no residence was left alone, the story goes that everyone, every member of the shadow race died that night and was never seen again. Except one. Now I know how cliché is that? It’s terrible isn’t it? But sadly it’s true. The Princess woke up to see the monster, to see the darkness that covered the already dark sky and moved like an inky mass over his victims. But Eva did not escape like you think. Oh no, the little Eva died, her soul was taken from her body, plucked like a hand picking a ripe fruit off of a tree. She died just like the others, just like the rest of her unfortunate cursed race. With no consciousness she drifted through the void that had swallowed the whole clan for what seemed like a millennia and for all she knew it could have been. But then there was a change, a voice drifted through the abyss and to her ears, to the ears of the Princess’s spirit. The noise tickled the inside of her mind, the voice forever calling, the voice forever calling to her in particular. It called for so long it seemed as if the voice was just a mere echo now also trapped in the void along with the race and the girl it had tried to reach. But soon, after that millennia of living in the river of lethe, after that millennia of living in oblivion; a change occurred. The small spirit form opened their eyes, their bright red eyes, the only light in the darkness, the only sacrificial fires in the dark tomb that still burned on.
Then the darkness drained, like someone pulling the plug in a sink. The darkness and the rest of the souls drained away and the red eyes were blinded by light, not a bright white light, we don’t want to be too cliché, but light anyway. The light was everywhere, it filled every corner of the world, it touched every single creature and for the first time after the death of the Princess did she feel alive. The blurry world to her was like seeing the world for the first time as a newborn, it was beautiful and daunting, wonderful and scary, it was the other worlds, and it was everything. But Eva was not alone when she woke up from death, oh no she was not. For next to her sat a man, a man with very, very white hair and very, very pale skin. Paintings of this man depict him as an angel with blazing blue eyes, the one who created the light and the voice for the Princess to here, this is partly true. but we won;t tell you which parts are true and which are not, because that ruins the fun. You work it out. The man extended a hand to the girl, his smile was thin but it was warming, the most warming thing the shadow princess had seen.
“I am the light.”
His voice was soft but it seemed to carry over the whole world, the plants, the trees, the animals seemed to carry his voice. It was like this man spoke out of every living creature in this near to perfect paradise the small shadow creature found herself in. The girl looked at him, her mouth opened but no words came out, for a few moments she resembled a fish out of water. Unable to breath, unable to speak, unable to do anything but open and close her mouth. Finally a small croak emitted from her throat, the first signs of speech after her untimely death and one of the first signs of living after it too. Her throat closed up and the small form coughed, her body shaking as she desperately tried to speak. Eva breathed in and finally emitted some sort do noise that would end up being speech. Her first word was slightly raspy due to the lack of vocal cord usage during her sleep in oblivion but her voice returned to normal in a short time. Princess Eva spoke well, she had been called a great orator back when her clan had been alive and she had given many speeches, she was well versed in poetry and had a good vocabulary. Her voice was clear and loud, not quiet like the man's voice, Eva never did quiet too well. Her voice was loud while her form was small, it would never seem that such a voice came from such a petite frame of being but her voice resonated through the air; it resembled the crash of waves on a beach in a beautifully dark cave untouched by life.
“I am the dark.”
That was as her response, you see just as this man was pale with white hair; Eva was the opposite. She was the epitome of everything her race encompassed. Her inky black pointed face was framed by a short cut of jet black hair, small pointed ears protruding from the side of her small head. Her frame was petite and very skinny and her eyes were wide and bright, unnaturally bright. Eva should be dead right now, she should be forever floating in the abyss that had taken her and her race, the ever moving shadow to death, but she had been summoned for a reason. After all why would I tell you about someone unimportant? Allow me to introduce you to the reincarnation of the two most pivotal forces in the other worlds. Luz, the light and Eva, the dark. Two opposing forces forever in harmony and this is the story of the dark one, the small dark force that keeps the light at bay. Eva the dark, the only force that keeps the light from blinding everyone and the only thing that the light has ever loved. Now maybe if this had been a story about peace the two could have been happy and lived the rest of their not so alive life together, but no. You see that void from earlier, it was not simply a void, it was a member of a species of voids. And those voids were not acting on their own free will unfortunately, those voids were being controlled. Now what kind of weird creature controls voids to go kill and absorb the souls of other races? Well you’d be surprised. The force of creation has always been an interesting person, interesting in the ways that’s not the good way and let’s just say he finally fell off the rocker. Eva and Luz knew this, oh they knew it very well but there was a small issue. And that issue was called people liking the damn lunatic. 'He' was the force of all creation after all, 'he' was a presence in pretty much every religion from every world, 'he' had an army of willing minions in his hands. And what did Luz and Eva have? Themselves, aw how romantic…and completely useless. But you see light and dark were never forces you really wanted to mess with, and the force of creation was no damn exception to the rule now was 'he'? Eh don’t answer that please. The two forces managed to pull a small group together, a small group of misfits from all the worlds who knew the truth and were determined to publicize it, the Inferno was their actual name. They were known as many things by other races, the sentinels of chaos, the fallen angels, the demons. Many names came up for them as the force of creation fed his minions lies and turned them against the group. The force of creation turned them into the evil forces that plagued each race and made them do evil deeds. People feared the Inferno for their 'mind control' powers and their obvious 'hatred' for life. But the group did not need help; the small band of nine lone warriors knew what they had to do, they knew their plan as they set up their small ice fortress of a base.. They had to kill creation. Anyone like to help? Well, thats the beginning of the story, hm, maybe I have time for carry on, after all I'm not sure how long I'll be staying in this world but maybe one more story won't hurt. Just the beginning at least? Alright you've convinced me. Listen well and I will tell you another story about the night's life.
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Two forms locked gazes, in the dark light it was hard to see the figures but the small fires that burned in the corners of the room illuminated the figures enough. The room was dark and damp, it resembled a tomb or a ceremonial chamber deep within a pyramid. One fighter resembled a suit of armor from an old mansion, its dark colored armor glinting in the fire making it appear a sort of dark bronze like the armor of ancient fighters from Greece. the armor was not actually bronze but a gold color, however over use and war had turned the gold a dirtier color that it was meant to be. The warrior’s eyes were not visible but it was obvious that there was someone in the suit, their shoulders were slumped and the movement of heavy breathing shook their body as they stood still. Their right hand was laden with a large blade covered in odd looking runes that glinted and moved in the fire light, dancing over the blade that encased them. The second warrior appeared to be in better shape, the small petite figure wore no armor but a chest guard, the rest of clothing included knee high leather boots over the top of black leggings. Falling from her waist was a long skirt that was open at the front and pooled around her feet like a medieval gown. The material met a metal belt as it got nearer her waist and her chest guard rested upon a leather corset than covered her chest and back all the way up to her neck. On her right shoulder was another piece of loose material that completely covered her right arm; it resembled the sleeve of a toga like the ancient Romans wore and it stayed attacked to her shoulder by a leather strap that ran across the girl's chest and under her opposite arm. Her clothes were all as black as the night sky and matcher her skin perfectly. Her dark body and dark clothes seemed to blend in with the shadows and if there had been no fire it would be as if she was not there at all. A true denizen of the shadows...well except for one small thing. In the area of her head hung two large glowing red orbs; they resembled rubies, glinting in the fire light of one happy thief or maybe even orbs of fire themselves; making the warrior resemble a demon from the abyss or a shadow from a past life. The small form shifted an interesting blade in her left hand. The blade held by the smaller form was long, too long for someone of this person’s stature and it held a wavy pattern to it. A cross guard handle separated the girl’s hand from the sharp blade and whirling patterns inside the blade danced in the half light in some crazy jig. The two were perfectly still; like combatants ready for a duel until the armor clad member of the room raised his blade so that it was level with the girl’s neck.
“Would you like to die?”
The girl looked up at the knight, her face creased slightly and white fangs glinted in the half light, the fire staining them as red as blood. This was a creature that believed in neither life nor death, this was a creature that did not need to care about either of those things. This was Eva, the night and she was not about to die. Eva lowered her own blade so that I was level with the knight’s neck; she shifted her foot on the dark paved floor making little noise but the sound of moving dust. Then she stepped forward, the blade she held glinting evily in the blood red light. The pattern on the blade jumped and surged out of the blade, covering the glinting red metal with some kind of aura giving the idea that the blade was on fire. she lifted her sword so that the blade and her left hand was now above her head, she intended to bring that blade down right in the center of her opponent's head, thus breaking their skull and killing them. That was the idea anyway. Unfortunately things never worked out the way she wanted. The dark girl took another step forward, her knees slightly bent under her long skirt and her face as calm as ever.
“Would you like to shut the hell up?”
Again, let me introduce you to a warrior from the other worlds and possibly the bluntest person you will ever meet in this life or the next. Eva the night and she was about the kick this guy's butt.
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 5:54 pm
Booted feet hit the arid desert soil with a crunch and a small puff of dust that hung in the stagnant air for several moments. Leather creaked as a young girl, wearing leather armor commonly found on soldiers, stretched and yawned luxuriously. Rubbing her gritty blue eyes, she swept her eyes around her surrounding and sighed. Dirt, dead grass, bones, and sand. How dull! She frowned and looked up at the long line of steadily-rising cliffs that lead to the sea. Squinting through the sunlight, she could barely make out the niche she had spent the night.
"Well, Kyra, you'd better get going!" she said enthusiastically. "They'll be waiting for you!" Her face fell as she started walking, scratching idly at her close-trimmed white-blonde hair. "Who am I kidding?" she sighed. "The regiment is expecting a fully-grown, strapping young man, not some scrawny halfling girl." Kyra looked up at the dark cliffs and sighed. She couldn't remember who had told her that if someone climbed to the top of the cliffs, they would find a dragon graveyard in places, and in others…a chasm that led straight to the depths of hell. She shivered at the thought of tumbling through the air, helplessly, only landing when she was in hell. Must have been Granny Hickory, she thought, her hands on her hips as she looked up. Never met an old woman that could send chills down a girl's spine like she can!
Frowning, Kyra put one booted foot on a small ledge and swung herself up easily, hands latching naturally to handholds as she found herself scurrying up the side of the cliff. She smiled happily, focusing on the thrill of scaling the cliffs. Her village elders had always said she was born to the sky, as she had climbed anything and everything ever since her chubby fingers could get a decent grip.
Reaching a point several feet below the top, she stopped to breath, her heart thrumming in her chest. Kyra looked down and experienced a rush of adrenaline that sent renewed strength to her limbs. The drop from her ledge to the ground was a long one, evidenced by the fact that a rock she dislodges faded from sight before it hit the ground. It wasn't a little rock, either. She swallowed and continued climbing, elation filling her when she hauled her body over the top of the cliff.
That elation was soon replaced with a bone-chilling, muscle-numbing fear that turned her insides to water and made her legs start to quake furiously. Kyra's mouth dropped open and she tried to scream, but only air rushed over her vocal cords, nothing but a huff of breath leaving her mouth. She took a step back and felt her stomach drop and her heart leap as the ledge gave way. Pitching herself forward, she tumbled head over heels into the immense, dark chasm from the depths of which two smoldering ruby eyes glared.
***
Kyra had stopped bracing herself for impact several minutes ago. The air rushing by her smelled of metal, heat and fury, if fury had a scent. Her stomach was still knotting itself hopelessly, but she found that if she spread her arms, she slowed her descent and could somewhat control the directions she fell in. She was fairly certain that, death not withstanding, this was the most fun she'd had in her life.
She'd been having fairly good luck avoiding snags and outcroppings of rock, but it only took one to make her see stars before she blacked out.
"Oi. Oi. Girl-child! AWAKE!" The tremendous roar shook Kyra's bones to the marrow and as she opened her eyes, she quickly clamped them shut again, shaking her head, which she found to be a poor idea indeed. Rubbing the aching lump on her temple, she cracked her eyelids open briefly, taking in the sight of a magnificent blood-red dragon. She blinked and swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She could see flames in the dragon's eyes. That wasn't what shook her soul, though. It was the fact that she knew his name.
((This feels crazy short...oh well.))
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 1:06 pm
Selina Vandrake;; home, sweet home "Miss Vandrake, your mother wishes to speak with you." A sleek figure wearing a black and white suit bowed politely to a young woman, noting that she was sprawled lazily upon the spotless white leather couch. Her long, slender legs were crossed, left over right, and an observer would describe her shapely legs as elegant, and tantalizing. If one were to run their hands down those sleek legs, they would notice it was soft, baby soft. But no one had ever done such a thing, or would be stupid enough to try, for that smooth skin masked rock hard muscles underneath, which she acquired from weekly tae-kwon-do lessons. She flicked her head slightly to acknowledge she had heard the man, and a single strand of chestnut brown slid into her innocent little face. Almost simultaneously, a small delicate hand brushed it away, while the other grasped a thick, colorful magazine.
Before his sudden interruption, Selina had been flicking through the pages of "Witch Fashion", her favorite magazine, hoping to find some new styles for the coming school year, and more importantly, something to wear tomorrow. Her efforts so far have been absurdly fruitless, which was more or less her own fault. When it came to fashion, everything had to be perfect or it was a definate no. The pictures Selina had seen so far in this issue were much too plain for her overly critical tastes. And she had a fairly good reason to be frustrated, which she most certainly was, at this time. It was August thirty-first, the day before she began her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and she still had not figured out what she would wear the next day. First impressions are everything, her mother, a renowned supermodel, once told her. Selina took her advice seriously, and without any animosity; she and her mother were not at all what you would call close, more acquaintances than anything else, for her mother was rarely at home.
With an irritated sigh, Selina lowered her magazine and then daintily set it upon the ornate obsidian coffee table beside her. "I shall not keep my dear mother waiting any longer then." The man nodded and flashed her a sympathetic look; he knew how much Selina loathed being in the presence of her mother any more than necessary. She slid off the couch feet first and right away slipped on a pair of furry white slippers; the cold marble floor was unpleasant to walk on barefoot. The butler turned smartly on cue and made for the door, which he held open for Selina. As she passed him, she gave him a warm smile to ease his distress about disturbing her. "It's quite alright." Selina stated plainly, for she knew there was absolutely nothing either of them could do about her mother. His face lightened up a bit at her words and he closed the door neatly behind them. She paused for a moment to allow the butler to take the lead and drifted after him lazily. This was one appointment she didn't mind stalling.
"Here you are, Miss Vandrake." The butler held the door to the waiting room open for Selina, ignoring the annoyed glare he recieved from her. She hated being called "Miss Vandrake", but let it pass for a second time in a row, a new record for her. Normally she would inform a servant rather coldly to not call her that, but they usually ended up calling her "Miss" instead, much to her chagrin. There were two reasons why she didn't say anything this time, one, she was especially fond of Brian, for he often helped her by distracting her father while she snuck back into the house, and second, if he was found not using proper protocol by her mother, he was bound to get fired. She owed him too much to let that happen.
Inside the "pleasure" room were a set of expensive couches and few polished tables along with matching chairs. Lounged upon one of the couches was an elegant woman draped in lavish silver robes, donning a ridiculously low hemline. Upon their arrival she flashed a small smile at Selina and gestured slightly for her to come over.
"You may leave us Brian." She stated airily as she smoothed out her robes, which had not a single crease upon them. "Selina dear, I am delighted that you have come. Sit down, please." With a small curtsy, Selina sat down upon the couch opposite of her mother; one could say they looked very much like reflections. Her mother, Cecilia, sported the same slightly tanned skin, full red lips, long curved lashes, slender build, and stunning hazel hair. She reached into her pocket and grasped what looked to be a brown stick and waved it. Almost instantly, three sets of fine clothing appeared between the two of them, hovering a couple feet above the ground. "I heard you were having a bit of trouble figuring out what to wear tomorrow." She flashed her daughter an amused smile and continued, "Your problem, is solved."
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Selina Vandrake;; the train station
A black Bugatti Veyron 16.4 zoomed down the London highway towards Kings Cross at a remarkable speed of two hundred twenty miles per hour. Any good car lover would instantly reconize this car as the most expensive and the fastest street-legal car in the world, which had a price tag of over one and a half million dollars. However, the vehicle was going too fast for anyone to make out clearly. In just five minutes the car came to a smooth, fluid stop in front of London's railway station. Two doors opened simultaneously, and a handsome young man wearing a tuxedo jumped out of the driver's seat whilst an older, more distinguished man carefully stepped out of the passenger's seat, a tad green in the face. Right behind the younger man popped Selina, who wore an expression of extreme awe and bewilderment. She never knew that muggles could make a vehicle move so fast. After the older man made it out of the car, he hastened to tidy himself up, and could be heard muttering something about "that infernal contraption". A stunning figure dressed in expensive furs and silks climbed out after the man, and it was obvious that she enjoyed the ride, unlike her husband.
The younger man wore a silly grin upon his striking face as he closed the car door after Selina, eyes twinkling underneath his exquisite black shades. "So, did you like it Selly?" He flashed her a sly wink as he ran his rough fingers through his dazzling blond hair, which was gelled to perfection. The resemblence between him and the older man was uncanny; they both were six feet in height, broad-shouldered, and extremely attractive. However, unlike the younger man, a set of neat, dark brown hair adorned the older man's head; he had dyed it from it's natural greying blond to a more pleasant shade, which he believed made him look far more dignified. Unknown to any unlookers, whose first impressions of the two men were that they came from a very rich family, was that both of them carried a magical stick in their pockets. And it was not just the two men who owned a wand such as that, but also Selina and her mother; for they were a family of wizards.
"Like it? Like it? That was wicked fun, Stephy darling!" The older man, who went by the name Thomas Vandrake, or "Sir", shot his daughter a cold look, for he disapproved greatly of her use of childish nicknames. Selina ignored him and cracked a large grin at her eldest brother, Stefan Vandrake, who worked, like their father, for the Ministry of Magic. "Thank you for the ride, kind sir." She said politely, trying very hard not to burst out laughing, and her father clenched his teeth together angrily. They were one of the oldest pureblood families, going back many generations, so they were respected, as well as filthy rich, in the wizarding community. Thomas Vandrake disliked what he called "mudbloods" immensely, and it was not suprising that he is a proud Slytherin. In fact, everyone in the Vandrake family so far had been in Slytherin, and there was little doubt that Selina would too.
Striding up to her brother, Selina looked heavingly, hair cascading down against her elegent face in intricate, soft hazel blond curls. She wore a brown silk dress that came down a few inches above her knees, her smooth legs wrapped in black tights. To ward off the chilly air, an ivory jacket rested upon her shoulders, dark fur lining the collar and cuffs. She smoothened out her expensive dress with one gloved hand, enjoying the peculiar sensation of silk against silk. Just a few feet away from her favorite brother, Selina looked short, even at her full height of five foot five, which was tall for her age. She only came up to to his neck, but they both knew that she still had a few inches left to go, since her mother is five foot ten. Stefan had always been looking out for her like a brother should, even teaching her quidditch and how to ride a broom; their father didn't know, of course. Selina adored her eldest brother, unlike Jack, who was seven years older than her and a total jerk. It was not suprising, then, that Jack had "buissness" to take care of, and was unable to see his sister off to her first year at Hogwarts. This was regarded as a plus for Selina and Stefan, who both disliked their brother in different ways: Selina thinks he's an a*****e, and Stefan doesn't like the fact he's into the Dark Arts. Jack, ironically, was their father's favorite son, while Stefan was their mother's favorite; at Hogwarts, Stefan was quidditch captain (and quite popular with the girls), and Jack, three years younger, was a prefect and eventually head boy, much to their father's joy.
Stefan, after a quick look around to make sure there were no muggles in sight, pulled out his wand and gave it a wave. A large, leather trunk and a silver cage with a red-eyed owl appeared, and with another flick of his wand, the trunk shrunk to a modest, small size. Selina grabbed for the cage, grinning at her owl, Vermillion, who hooted in return, and then snatched the handle of her trunk, glaring at Stefan, who was about to take it for her. The four aristocrats then preceded through station, Selina and Stefan quietly chatting to one another, and then came to a halt at platforms nine and ten. Anyone who was observing them would've seen a strange sight: the family strolled straight through the wall between the two platforms. Luckily, there was not one muggle in sight, so they went completely unnoticed. The other side of the wall was quite diferent different from the boring, nearly empty train station. Alternatively, Platform 9 and 3/4 was bustling with many individuals, familes seeing their children off, friends laughing with one another, and suchwhat. Over all, the noise was dynamic.
Thomas Vandrake scrunched his nose at the rowdy crowd, and pulled his daughter aside for a quick chat. She glanced at him questionly, but had a feeling she knew what this was going to be about. "Yes?" She hissed softly, but there was no need for such precautions, for the language she was speaking was not one that many wizards knew; Selina was speaking snake, otherwise known as Parseltounge.
"You know what this is about Selina. I want you to remember what I have said before, choose your friends wisely. Stefan did, and see how well he ended up."
"Yah, and see how Jack ended up!" Selina shot back at her father, but he silenced her with a cold glare.
"Silence! I shall hear no more of that now! You are a Vandrake. We are the upper-class. We do not mix with the lower classes, the mudbloods and filthly blood traiters. Remember that." He gave his daughter a severe look then continued, "I shall not expect you to send letters every week, nor should you expect it from me. I only ask of you one thing - do not dishonor our family."
With that, he turned and strided briskly back to his wife, leaving Selina staring coldly after him. "Our family is already dishonored." She murmured quietly, and sauntered towards her brother, who was flirting with a rather pretty woman. At the sight of Selina approaching Stephan, she blushed, and flashed him a questioning look. "I'm Selina, his sister." It wasn't that much of a suprise to Selina that the woman thought she might be his girlfriend; despite the fact she and Stefan were siblings, they didn't look very much alike, and he was only ten years older. Stefan gave the woman a wink and a "See ya around", then turned sheepishly to Selina. "Looks like you've been busy, bro. Father would near have a heartattack if he saw you two together." She smiled slyly, then added after a moments thought, "On second thought, that might be a good thing for a change."
Stefan shook his head seriously, fighting the urge to laugh. "You are one cold girl, sis. He gave her a severe look, "You really shouldn't say such things. He's our father." Selina simply rolled her eyes and snorted; his words were lost on her. He let out a hopeless sigh and then broke into a mischievous smile, "So, plan "squid" still in order?" Plan "squid" was something the two of them came up with, having to do with Selina getting on the quidditch team.
"You betcha! I sent the "fire" your way yesterday evening." The "fire" stood for her firebolt, which she acquired from her father after asking for one; he thought that she simply wanted it so she could show it off to her friends. "I've got it all under control, bro. I'll send Vermillion after it's completion, just like we discussed." Selina had a cocky grin planted on her face, matching the one on her brother's. They both had no doubt about the plan working.
The crowd of people seemed to be increasing, if that was even possible, and Stefan flashed Selina a worried look. "You should go. If you wait any longer, all the good compartments will be taken." He threw a light punch at her shoulder, which she playfully returned, but harder. Stefan flinched and made a face of mock outrage, eyes twinkling merrily. They were both not looking forward to her departure, but it couldn't be delayed much longer. "Hogwarts will be great fun. I only wish I could be there too with you." He glanced back at their parents with a scowl, for they both wore expressions of strained patience. "Well, I expect you to write, Selly dear, every day." A grin spread across his face as he surveyed his lovely sister, whom he loved dearly.
"Of course, Stephy!" Selina returned his grin cheerfully, trying to mask her growing saddness. "We'll see each other during the holidays, no doubt." They both let out wistful sighs at the same time, causing the two of them to let out a laugh. "Say "bye" to Mother and Father for me." She joked drily; she too had noticed how eager Father looked to leave. "Farewell, thy brother." With that being said, Selina turned swiftly around and headed for the train, not looking back. Stefan gave her one last sad look then also turned to leave; goodbyes had always been hard for the two of them. When he reached his waiting parents, they immediately strolled out of the station; just before they walked through the wall, Cecilia shot her daughter one last glance. Then they were gone.
Selina boarded the train quickly, determined to put her mask of confidence back on. Her trunk clattered after her, and she was forced to carefully hold Vermillion's cage in front of her, to avoid rattling it too much. Once on the train, Selina pursed her lips in silent frustration, for she could not see one empty compartment. Annoyed, she strolled down the aisle, head high, checking for an open one. When she neared the end of the train, she was about to lose hope when she saw a promising compartment. Relieved, Selina slid the door open, and was utterly shocked to see a boy, around fifteen, sitting alone in the compartment. "Uhhh.." She quickly recovered from her suprise and, cheeks a tad red, looked about the small room. Upon one of the seats sat the boy, who seemed to tossing a ball back and forth to a small dog sitting on the opposite seat. Selina raised a brow at the dog, trying to remember if the list of animals you were allowed to bring included dogs, but couldn't remember exactly. This boy obviously had one, so it must be okay. "Sorry for the intrusion. I thought this was an empty compartment." She hesitated, and quickly evaluated the boy. He wore simple clothes, so he probably came from a poorer family, and perhaps wasn't even pureblood. Definately not a type of person her father would approve of her associating with. "Mind if I join you? All the other compartents seem rather full." She flashed him an award-winning smile and extended her hand in a greeting. "Selina. Selina Vandrake."
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 4:44 pm
 ╔══════════════╗ Molly Addison Paddock ╚══════════════╝
Molly closed her blue hues against the harsh light of her single bed room, her lower lip caught between her lips. She could feel the memories flooding back to her in a rush that almost made her head hurt more than those damned fluorescent lights, memories that had left both physical and mental scars on the young woman. The noise of feet clacking against the floor next to her door faded away quickly, someone else had problems that were worse than her's for the moment it would seem. Molly opened bright blue hues to glance down at her wrists and hands, which lay limp, almost dead looking in her lap. The gauze bandages had been replaced by simply gauze strips that wrapped twice around her wrists and were taped into place. Versus a few weeks ago, when they had been large obnoxious bandages. These strips didn't interfere with her every action, as the large bulky bandages did previously. She turned her wrist and hand over, examining the underside, and picking at the adhesive of the bandage. She then turned her fingers and attention to the soft flesh of her palms, riddled with lines that revealed things only palm-readers could interpret. Marred across the soft flesh were a few scars where the glass had dug in deep enough for them to have to dig it out, where in other places the small puckered scars were more faded, where they only had to pluck the glass out with tweezers.
"Just a few more pieces Molly, then we'll wrap you up good. Okay? Molly closed baby blue hues against the light again, letting her head rest against the white wall that her bed lay catty-corner to. This time she let the memories flood into her mind, scattering over her vision and placing themselves where they belonged in the time-line of her life.. It had started in her bedroom, and it should have ended in the hospital; Molly hadn't been so lucky. Flickers of light crossed her vision, disappearing just as fast as they had managed to appear. Then she was back again, remembering it all. Staring at her hands in awe, slivers of glass protruding from her small smooth palms, now slick with blood. Her mother sat her down, pressing a towel into her lap to catch the blood as it dripped from her wounds. - Her mother was feral over her carpets. They had to remain clean, or it was "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!" In the Paddock house. - The woman moved through her kitchen - Not the family kitchen, her kitchen. - with ease, plucking the phone from it's charger and punching in the numbers with a rapid ease. 9-1-1. She talked in a low quiet voice that Molly couldn't quite hear, trying to conceal her embarrassment at her daughters attempt to off herself. Molly was too captured by her bloody situation to care for her mother though; Though Molly never cared for her mother much anyway. She was controlling and obsessive. Her mother had to poke her nose everything, had to know exactly what her daughter was doing. Had to know everything.
Hell, she even interfered in her daughters attempt at death. Molly had tried to kill herself. Kill herself dead. And she had failed, apparently. Her mother had come rushing in as she was about to take another slice at her life, snatching the razor from her hand yanking her up off of the floor briskly. Left in her wake were the razors on the floor, blood botching her mothers seemingly flawless carpet. Among the razors were bottles of pills, all varying shades of orange and yellow. Most were prescribed to the girl; She had problems of her own. Some had their tops still screwed on, others were missing their tops; Their contents strewn around the room in a messy fashion. Molly hadn't exactly been prepared to be ripped away from her activities. " Yes Jesse, we're going right now. I'll call you when I find out more about her. Promise. The bright yellow and red lights of the ambulance were spilling over her left shoulder; A large Irishman pulling her toward the ambulance with a strong hand wrapped around her upper arm. He was spilling out questions for her, all of which flew in one ear and out the other with Molly. He hoisted her up -as if her legs didn't work!- and set her down on the gurney, continuing to ask her questions even as she seemed unresponsive. The large burly man closed the doors behind himself as he climbed into the ambulance; Quiet, for once during their whole ride. The driver, a lean looking tan Hispanic man with fine features turned back to look at Molly for a moment, before shaking his head and muttering something in Spanish. She couldn't understand, and for some odd reason she found it almost unnerving. Not knowing what he was saying about her, that is. Though it was probably something along the lines of "So young, so stupid." Or, that's what she thought. "What were 'ye thinkin' girlie? You could'a killed 'yeself back there!" The large man bellowed at her, his Irish accent was thick, comforting for Molly. Her own accent was a medley of Irish and a bit of Scandinavian; She had always considered it an odd pairing. She turned her large blue eyes to the ceiling of the ambulance, counting the bolts that held the metal together as the man lifted her hand delicately, warning her that he was going to begin with her hands. The smell of alcohol filled the air, thick and nauseating. The searing pain that jolted though her hand as he pulled out the first sliver of glass made her yelp and yank her hand back, only pulling the glass into a jagged line that carved into her flesh. She tore her eyes away from the ceiling to stare at her hand, which the man had taken again, and began picking at the glass in her hand. The look on his face was a mask void of emotion. She bit into her lip as the pain seared over her again, sending white hot flashes over her vision. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the driver turn back again, only shaking his head and averting his eyes back to the road.
"I think 'yuh going to live lassie.
The man at the wheel took a sharp turn, pulling into the Emergency port. Molly could feel the engine fade out as the large Irishman popped out the legs on the gurney, pulling her out and wheeling her away. His green hues glanced down at her occasionally as he pushed her gurney behind a curtain, pulling the sheet shut as he turned away. She remembered turning on her side, closing her eyes and trying to forget everything. The pain in her wrists, the drugs that had been trying to either force themselves through her system, or eject themselves from her system. Along with the voices, their occasional whispers in her ears. That's what had gotten her into this place, this "institute."
[/align"Miss, we'll need to keep her here for a little bit.. Run some tests and such. We have a fine care facility as you should know, and she will receive all the care she needs."
Molly's mother was infuriated by the verdict; Hearing in the cold white room that her daughter was mentally 'unstable'. What a disgrace! Her spot in society was smudged by her stupid reckless Daughter, and her stupid reckless tendencies. Madame Paddock didn't speak of her daughter in public; And not too often did she talk about her in private either. She was a smudge on her mothers reputation that had to be wiped out; It was just going to take some scrubbing. Scrub the problem from the family tree was her alternative, and that was the one she would stick to. Madame Paddock legally disowned her daughter just before she was placed in the institutes care; She was freed of the smudge.
Memories are a pain; Pleasure is for the lucky. And it had proved thus far that Molly was not a lucky one. She decided to keep her eyes closed, the fluorescent lights were too intrusive; Peeking and poking into her life just as her mother had. And at the moment Molly wanted nothing less than to think of her mother. Or hear of her; Or have anything to do with her. Just as Molly's mother had scrubbed her from their family, Molly was scrubbing her mother from everything she had.
[ Eh. Skeptical. Quality over Quantity for me.]
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Posted: Tue Jan 26, 2010 4:14 pm
Instead of giving me the gold for winning third place, would you mind adding it to the guild's mule account if we have one, please?
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