RoseRavenger
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- Posted: Sun, 22 Feb 2015 04:04:43 +0000
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx███ ██ █xx VANESSA ROSE TERRYxx █████ ██ █xU R S U L A xx↗ ↗
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx⇛⇛ ❝ Personal identity seems like it's just such an American archetype, from Holly Golightly re-inventing herself in 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' to Jay Gatsby in 'The Great Gatsby.' It seems like the sort of archetypal American issue, ❞
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx» » “If you're given the freedom to be anything, or be anyone, what do you do with it?"
xxxxThe only difference between suicide and martyrdom is press coverage. ↷
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx███ ██ █xx VANESSA ROSE TERRYxx █████ ██ █xU R S U L A xx↗ ↗
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx⇛⇛ ❝ Personal identity seems like it's just such an American archetype, from Holly Golightly re-inventing herself in 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' to Jay Gatsby in 'The Great Gatsby.' It seems like the sort of archetypal American issue, ❞
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx» » “If you're given the freedom to be anything, or be anyone, what do you do with it?"
xxxxThe only difference between suicide and martyrdom is press coverage. ↷
Vanessa ran her fingers through her dark locks, eyes narrow as she watched her features move in the reflective surface of her mirror. Her thin fingers flicked from the entangled mass of her head out into the air of the tiny bathroom. She sighed and blinked at herself. She wasn't sure of the time of day, just her pounding headache and itch for a smoke she grabbed her purse from where she'd set it and closed the lid of the toilet seat with her bare foot. At least the owner was clean, she'd yet to get a glimpse of the owner of her overnight site. She needed to get home, but she hated the waiting. Vanessa tapped the cigarette on her wrist and placed it between her deeply colored lips, she knew it was a nasty habit; but it wasn't her worst. Her lighter brightened the dimly lit room, Helene, taking in a deep breath, watched the flame waiver. She didn't bother cracking a window, she wouldn't see this place again. Her legs crossed as she sat, fair skin bare against the seat. Her head dipped back as the smoke escaped past her lips, golden locks cascading down her bare back. Her eyes flickered as she thought, foot bouncing as she tilted her head and started intently at the white wall in front of her. Her lips pursed as she held the cigarette between two fingers on her right hand, bringing it slowly to her lips.
The night had brought Vanessa to a strange(yet familiar) apartment and half a pack of lung cancer. At least the alcohol was free. She bit at her lower lip, smoke sliding from her mouth. The moment was passing, her headache less invasive. She stood, pressing the end of her cigarette on the counter and tossing it in the sunflower pot, drooping from the lack if light. She sighed, not bothering to look at the image she knew wouldn't smile at her. She opened the door slowly, looking to the bed, the stranger entangled in his own sheets. She moved around the room like a ghost, picking up her things and placing her clothes back on her own body. She moved quickly, darting out of the apartment without even a note.
Vanessa felt the night fall heavy on her as she made her way back to her own domain. A fine little apartment with neighbors who weren't as intrusive as the last. She fumbled for her keys in her pocket and pushed open her door, throwing her things down the moment she stepped through the door. She had a routine after such a night, she plugged in her phone and headed straight for the shower. The woman didn't mind adventurous nights, however they left her with plenty to wash away. The warm water hit her and she welcomed it's embrace.
Once she had washed away the night she went to work on presenting herself for the day. Although she was a woman of efficiency she liked to take her time when preparing herself. She was a fan of her own appearance, not at all ashamed of what god had gifted her with. She pulled the tights over her thighs and slid on a crop top and shorts then moved onto her hair. It took less time than most, the mane drying into it's own voluminous mess. She ran her fingers through it gently and smirked, placing on a red lip to finish out her look. She stared at herself for a moment, and then headed to work.
Once at work she replaced her shorts with a skirt and went to work. She first headed to the bar and went to work serving the alcohol she wished she could drink. The night rambled on and she couldn't help but keep glancing at her watch for her time to leave. She bit lightly at her lower lip as she wrote down the order of a middle aged man with a watch that didn't match the expense of his shoes. God, she needed a smoke.
❝When did the future switch from being a promise to a threat?❞