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Post by adelaide marie bell on Dec 31, 2011 0:25:56 GMT -5
[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;] "it's not a gift, it's a curse." Adelaide wasn't sure why she just enjoyed mornings so much, but she did. Since her new roommate was off doing who knows what off the island probably, she had this rather large room to herself. She had to change rooms and all, but it didn't take long. She just had to move her insane amount of nerd supplies from the room to other room. She didn't really have anyone to help her out though. Addie was up and at it at about seven in the morning finishing up moving things from one room to the other. After she was done moving the last box, she plopped down on the new bed that was hers. She took a quick shower to wash her sweaty body off from moving rather large boxes and large amounts of clothes. Her shower lasted about several minutes, no more, no less. She never really was about taking an ungodly amount of time in the shower. She had things to do; she was a busy person. Just kidding. She had nothing better to do.
Addie threw on a pair of shorts, a tank, and what not. She figured that she would spend most of the day at the beach today since she had nothing better to do. She just put on her slip on converse and then headed out. She had been couped up inside the dorm room for basically a whole day with no sunshine or fresh air. As soon as she went outside, the air hit her in the face like a baseball, but more enjoyable than getting hit in the face by a baseball. She strolled down all the way to the beach. Once there, she laid down in the soft sand, enjoying the sun's rays against her skin. She took off her off-pink color hoodie, folded it up, and put it under her messy head of hair. She didn't know why she didn't just put it up in a ponytail before coming down; it would've been so much easier on her.
She popped back up and curled into a little ball, laying her head on her knees. She looked out at the big, wide, blue ocean and smiled. She slipped her shoes off, put them on top of her jacket and did that dumb running thing towards the ocean. She dived into it and popped her now wet head back up. She laughed to herself, probably thinking if people were watching her, they'd think she'd be crazy. She didn't care. She's been alive for a long time, longer than she wanted to be. She put her arms around her small, petite body as she walked up the beach back to her hoodie and shoes. She curled back up into a ball, thinking about her family. She smiled and tried to hold back the tear that was coming up. She always got all mushy-eyed when it came to thoughts of her family and how she missed them so much. She just closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the ocean.
TAGGED: story | WORDS: 508 | OUTFIT | OOC: i'm super excited <3
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Post by STORY MORDECAI GUERRERO on Jan 1, 2012 4:28:54 GMT -5
[/STYLE][STYLE=BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); BORDER-TOP: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; BORDER-LEFT: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; BORDER-RIGHT: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; BORDER-BOTTOM: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; WIDTH: 400PX; HEIGHT: 200PX;] rock bottom and i sold my soul Juniper slept soundly in the bed next to his, stirring every so often and muttering to herself once but he hadn’t caught what she said. Afraid to get up and wake her, he stayed where he was. Curled up on his side with one arm under his head and the other curled around the sleeping piglet. He had been up for a few hours already, plagued by bad dreams all night that left him restless. Too afraid to fall back asleep. Too afraid of his nightmares. Afraid of making them real again with the power he was plagued with. In classes he could only manage to create tiny little creatures of light, but in his sleep the demons of his mind stood in his bedroom at the full height he imaged them as. Warped versions of his father with arms like whips and saber teeth and devil horns. Story hated that he put Juniper through that. That she was forced to see this demon of his nightmares on a regular basis. He couldn’t help what his power and mind did when he slept though, no matter how many extra classes he took.
Having been too scared to move in case he woke her up, Story finally slipped out from under the blankets and gathered up a change of clothes to bring into the bathroom with him for after he showered. The most naked even his roommate had ever seen him was wearing a muscle shirt. He didn’t like showing skin. It made him feel vulnerable. Like his father could see him if he showed too much arm, and if he was seen he would be hurt for breaking his father’s rules. It had only been a year of freedom for Story, so he was still very much in the mind set that his father was still around and ruling over his every act and thought. If he gave someone else the impression that he was available he would be punished like last time; a fireplace poker stabbed right above his genitals. He also felt that he was repulsive when it came to the state of his body. He was too skinny. Too awkwardly shaped because of the abuse and neglect he had faced as a child. Coated in scars, some areas becoming more scar than they were anything else. His back was like a burn victim, only a select few areas untouched by knives and fists and whips and broken glass and whatever other weapons his father could find. He was ugly. No one needed to see that.
It was early and he didn’t want to eat. His shower was finished and he was dressed but with nothing to do. The only thing he could really think of doing was having a morning smoke and going for a walk around the island until people started waking up. He didn’t really know what to do with himself. Not in that moment. Not ever. Only slightly high, just enough to calm down his raging anxiety, Story simply wandered and let his thoughts and his feet guide him until he found himself on the beach. While he had never learned how to swim and even though he refused to take off his sweaters, Story enjoyed the beach. He liked the feeling of sand in his shoes and the smell of the ocean; and it reminded him of California which was his place of safety. The place he had been freed in, hence why the State was tattooed on one of his hands. He walked right past a curled up girl at first, walking up to the tide and trying to find sea glass before giving up and turning around to see someone he recognized. “Fishy! Addie!” [/color] He renamed people as a way to remember their real names. [/div] tag: addie/kale. words: 634 wearing: see pic. notes: C:
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Post by adelaide marie bell on Jan 3, 2012 0:31:41 GMT -5
[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;] "it's not a gift, it's a curse." She breathed in the fresh ocean air and shivered a little bit from the wind. She put her hoodie-shirt back on, even though she was soaking wet and the hoodie would be soon as well. She smiled when she curled back up in her little ball. She wrapped her arms around her legs and then leaned her head against her knees. When people saw her like this, they normally thought she was upset, like in a "fetal" position or something stupid like that. But no. It was quite the opposite. When she went in her ball of comfort, she normally ended up thinking about her brother and her mother and father. The sights and sounds of Ireland wondered her mind. It was easy for her to remember places and how they looked and smelled. What else was she supposed to do when she visited places? Just stand there and look dumb? No. If she was going to live forever, she wanted to get as much out of places as she could.
She heard a familiar shout out calling "Fishy" then "Addie". She smiled and opened her eyes, looking around to try and find out where the voice had come from. She stood up to find Story heading in her direction. She waved to him, "Story!" She jogged to meet him halfway and quickly ran out of breath from the earlier actions of jumping in the water. Story was about the only person that she enjoyed the company of, well, him and Massy she supposed. She had not actually met her in person, but she thought from their online conversations, she had gotten a general idea of what she was like. Even though she had no knowledge of superheroes, so those comic books she moved earlier this morning would come in handy rooming with her. Although, apparently her "man" was going to be around a lot as well, but she hadn't gotten a bad vibe off of him either through the chat site the school hosted. But, Addie wasn't a big fan of crowds. Two were plenty of people for her. As long as Massy didn't throw any wild parties in the room, she would be just fine.
"So," she began, "what are you up to on this fine day?" It was actually a pretty nice day. The sun was finally beginning to shine and share its warmth with the human race and the beach was still clear of people really. She looked up at Story; he was a very colorful individual, and she did not at all mean that in a bad way. She enjoyed Story. He was heavily tattooed and pierced, but it made him more interesting in that way. She looked back at her shoes and felt like if she left them there for too long, she felt like they would go "missing". She grabbed Story's hand and pulled him along to her original spot. She let go and then popped a squat in the now warm sand. "Sit. Talk with me." She gave her big, goofy smile and patted the sand next to her, moving her shoes out of the way.
Even if she enjoyed the company of people, didn't really mean much if she wasn't willing to talk to you. She honestly disliked most of the population of people. Let's face it. People are stupid and make dumb decisions. Story was one of the few that she actually enjoyed talking to. She felt like she could tell Story just about anything. Adelaide rarely told anyone anything about her family or where she was from. She had at least gotten to the point where she had told Story she was originally from Ireland. She had just lived for so long, she could turn her accent "on" or "off" if you want to go as far to say that. She hadn't really told him much about her family though. Perhaps she would get to that point one day, but today was probably not that day.
TAGGED: story | WORDS: 668 | OUTFIT | OOC: <3
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Post by STORY MORDECAI GUERRERO on Jan 8, 2012 19:27:07 GMT -5
[/STYLE][STYLE=BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); BORDER-TOP: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; BORDER-LEFT: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; BORDER-RIGHT: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; BORDER-BOTTOM: SOLID #b9b9b9 15PX; WIDTH: 400PX; HEIGHT: 200PX;] rock bottom and i sold my soul Story’s knowledge of, well, everything was very minimal. What he knew now was a product of his time spent in the hospital. Nurses and the other patients had slowly started introducing Story to popular culture he hadn’t been allowed to experience up until that point. He hadn’t grown up with the ability to watch Saturday morning cartoons. He hadn’t been allowed to even look at the television without getting a blunt object smacked over his head. And what little he had been able to experience he scarcely remembered. Story’s mind was a scattered and broken place, filled with horrible memories and information his consciousness has long ago lost. What little positive experiences he had had growing up had long ago been lost amidst the torture and agony he had faced on a daily basis.
School had simply been a safe haven for him. A place that he was allowed to go that wasn’t home. And even there he had faced pain in the form of bullies. Story, the mixed race boy who lived in a trailer and had the funny name. Kids hadn’t liked him, but they liked that he gave them a satisfying reaction when they neared him. They didn’t even need to touch him to get him scared and cowering. What little chance Story had had at being a normal citizen was gone the moment his shot up rather than going to her appointment at the abortion clinic. Even now, school was just a safe place to be for Story. It wasn’t with Arista, his beloved Arista, but it wasn’t with foster care or Jiles or Kingston. He didn’t want to live with his brothers or his grandparents or an aunt or uncle. He just wanted to at least try and be a normal teenager. He wanted to be able to rebel and act out and throw tantrums about how no one understood him. He wanted to sneak out to go to parties and all of the other normal things kids his age did. But he couldn’t. Because he was too broken still. Not enough pieces of the man he could be had been glued back together yet.
Something about Addie soothed him. Something about her made him feel like maybe he could be okay. He didn’t quite know what it was, but he wasn’t going to complain about it. He quickly found himself relying on the chance of being her friend. Relying on having her in his life to keep up this serene feeling. At this point he was already subconsciously planning on how he was going to keep her around. He didn’t want to lose someone who made him feel this comfortable. He hadn’t even shown juniper his scars yet, but he could easily see himself showing Addie a few of them. He smiled as she met him half way, wanting to hug her but still too skittish to. So he just gave a really awkward and sort of shy wave and a shrug at her question. “Kinda’ tired,” [/color] je replied, squinting from the light despite of his sunglasses. Not only was it bright to his sensitive site but he could feel the energy that he needed for his power, and that only made him dislike it even more. Out of habit he flinched when she took his hand, afraid that he might get pulled into the sand and drowned but that wasn’t the case. He easily relaxed and followed her to her spot and sat down in the sand with his legs in a V shape. “What do ya wanna’ talk about?”[/color] he asked in a small and almost tired voice, raking his fingers through the front of his hair before burying them in the sand. Having his jacket on was starting to make him sweat but he was a little too afraid to take it off. One sleeve slid down his shoulder but the skin was still covered, the only scars really visible being the ones on his neck hands, though he had tattoos covering both areas. “I don’t usually come to the beach…”[/color] he admitted, just so that he had something to say. “I dunno’ how to swim…”[/color] He trailed off and wiggled his fingers under the sand until the tips poked out. “So I usually only come here to draw. ‘Cept I forgot to bring my book with me.”[/color] [/div] tag: addie/kale. words: 730 wearing: see pic. notes: C:
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