Clementine's sleepy gaze wandered over the bar, staring off past her thick red glasses frames and out onto the regulars that sat at the bistro's tables, drinking their days away as they always did. There was little about the scattered group of men and women that could surprise her any more, and with her mind more focused on the fact that tomorrow would be the start of her twentieth trip around the sun, she was far from concerned about what the regular patrons might be chattering about. To her right, Rory leaned on the bar, looking bored as ever, and in the back she could hear other staff members preparing some sort of food for one of the customers, but none seemed interested in keeping the waitress very busy. She almost considered attempting conversation with Rory, but was saved by the bell above the door, signaling the entrance of new customers. In one swift, fluid motion, Clementine pushed herself up off of the corner of the bar she had been resting against and flitted to the side of the tallest member of the group; a pink haired boy with wild feathers and strings added to his ponytail. She flashed a warm, genuine smile at the two young women who stood at his side, chattering away, and nodded toward them. "Welcome to Gaston's Bar and Bistro," she greeted in her usual bubbly voice.
Admittedly, there was very little Clem enjoyed about her job at Gaston's. She worked with a miserable bartender ( though she did love Rory in his own special way ) and she was becoming more and more accustomed to her customer's rude ways of presenting themselves to her, but there were bright sides ( including dear Ricarda, who Clementine adored ) and today, one of those bright sides happened to have a literal brightness to it. Being a little dive bar, Gaston's had its own crazy customers coming in and out every now and again, and with the three strangers wandering in, all of them seeming to obtain a higher energy than she thought humanly possible, she was sure that tonight was going to be an interesting one, to say the least.
"My name is Clementine, and I will be your waitress this afternoon," the pinkette continued her original thought, guiding the three strangers to their seats. The pink boy was grumpy, and thirsty, which she mentally noted when he ordered a drink almost immediately after sitting. The two young women, on the other hand, seemed kind enough to remember her name. She took out the simple yellow waitress pad that she kept tucked into the front of her apron and quickly scribbled down their orders. "Well, you all sound hungry, so I'll put those in right away!" she said with a lighthearted laugh, turning away to put the orders in behind the bar, where she was sure Ricarda was already hard at work. Making her way around the corner, she was surprised to find that the fair haired young woman was not in fact the one doing the cooking, but a second employee who was apparently covering her break. In spite of the slight disappointment that formed a pit in Clem's stomach, she forced her usual sunny smile and handed off the order. "Thanks," she added, picking up one of the prepared bread baskets that was waiting for her and wandering back out into the main part of the Bistro.
In the five minutes that it had taken for Clementine to drop off the orders and pick up a basket of bread for the new customers, chaos had ensued. She had vaguely heard shouting from the back of the restaurant, but she had hoped it was simply another scuffle between Rory and one of their drunk patrons. What she walked in on was something entirely different. By the time she had crossed the threshold, the two young women were at the bar talking loudly to Rory, and the pink haired boy - whose name she had gathered to be 'Lennie' from what she'd heard - was standing at the table, his palms pressed flat against the table cloth as if to restrain himself from lunging at the two young women. She hurried to his side and placed the bread on the table. "Please, enjoy," she said through gritted teeth, striding quickly over to the bar to figure out just what was going on.
"Rory," she exclaimed, pushing up her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose in a rather exasperated fashion. Before she was even able to demand what was going on, the bell above the door rang out once again, and as if on instinct, Clementine turned around and plastered a smile onto her face. "Welcome to Gaston's Bar and -- oh," she said simply, stopping her little greeting as soon as she realized that the customer was not a customer, but Rory's roommate Caspian, who had developed a habit of dropping in around lunch time. With little hope of getting much help from Rory, she approached the table where Lennon was sitting and offered a meek smile.
"If they're trying to set you up with Rory, he already has a boyfriend," Clem offered with a small, apologetic smile. "Or.. Maybe it was Mei he was seeing... Regardless, I'm sure there's another nice man out there for you." she gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder and looked back to the bar. "But, for the record, your first drink is on the house." And with that the pinkette wandered back to the bar, placing her hands on the wooden barrier between herself and the puzzled dark haired grump behind it. "I need a beer for our new table, when you're quite finished with your fan club."
OOC: was that too sassy for clem i'm sorry hi guys here she is xxxLOCATION: gaston's xxxCOMPANY: lennie, rory, cas, cerah, ali... who knows who else
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: I CANT SEEM TO HOLD YOU LIKE I WANT TOXXXXXI CANT SEEM TO HOLD YOU LIKE I WANT TOXXXXXI CANT SEEM TO HOLD YOU LIKE I WANT TOXXXXXI CANT SEEM TO HOLD YOU LIKE I WANT TO XXXXXXXX ⋯ »»XXX◞`SO I CAN FEEL YOU↪ IN MY ARMS! XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXNOBODY'S GONNA COME SAVE YOUXXXNOBODY'S GONNA COME SAVE YOUXXXNOBODY'S GONNA COME SAVE YOUXXXXXXXXX XXXWE'VE PULLED TOO MANY˟FALSE ALARMS;WE'RE GOIN' DOWN XXAND YOU XXXAND YOU CAN SEE IT TOOXXXAND YOU CAN SEE IT TOOXXXAND YOU CAN SEE IT TOOXXXAND YOU CAN SEE IT TOOXXXAND YOU CAN SEE IT TOOXXXAND YOU CAN SEE IT TOOXXX
In spite of Cerah's scolding about drinking at two in the afternoon being bad for him, there was no way he was going to be going through the rest of this afternoon without a drink in his system. Or five. At this point, he would have liked to be s**t faced and oblivious to what was going on only a few feet away from him. With all the talking and the grabbing and the pushing him forward, Lennie had forced himself back to the table with slow steps when Ali had been distracted by the new, energetic red head that had just wandered into the bar. He was sure that his skin was flushed with humiliation after what had just happened.
"Christ, Ali, Cerah, just --" he'd begun to cry out in anguish when the girls had started ganging up on the bartender, but thankfully the dark haired, brooding young man seemed to know how to put their wondering to an end. He was seeing someone. A rush of relief coursed through him, and for a moment Lennon could have laughed. He was happy about not standing a chance with someone. It was almost pathetic. He slumped back in his chair, totally relieved by the turn of events.
"Thank god," he muttered to himself under his breath.
Lennie plopped himself down in the chair he had originally taken when they walked into the bar, and listened idly to the talk going on between Ali, Cerah, and the bartender, whose name, he gathered, was Rory. He watched intently, only distracted when the pink haired waitress swept back into the room with a basket of bread. She looked as confused as he had been a few seconds ago. Clementine, that had been her name, hadn't it? At least, that was what Ali had said to her when they were seated. He was brought back to reality once again when yet another red haired young man wondered into the bar, this one looking far too optimistic for his liking. He greeted the bartender warmly, and instantly Lennon seemed to make the connection. A young man bringing him lunch? Friends, surely they knew one another.
"If they're trying to set you up with Rory, he already has a boyfriend," Clementine had snuck up behind him and made Lennie jump a bit in his chair when she spoke. She assured him that there was another 'nice man' out there in the world for him, and the artist groaned internally. They had only been there for a day and already most of the bar apparently thought he was gay. Who knew what people would think by the end of the week. She assured him the first drink was on the house, which was the only thing that seemed to soothe him. "Thanks," he muttered to the waitress before standing up once more and heading over to the bar.
In spite of his hatred of 'creating scenes' when it came to public places, he wandered up to the two young women who were standing a few feet away from him. "Hey," he said, grasping Ali by the elbow and tugging her close to him for a moment. He hesitated when his fingers grazed her skin, but pushed any thoughts he might have had quickly from his mind. She was his friend. His friend who thought he was gay. "Hey," he said again, this time a bit more forcefully, and glanced over at Cerah, hoping he'd have her attention as well. "I thought this was supposed to be lunch, not set-up-Lennie time. Can we give it a rest and just eat?"
He let go of Ali's arm and took a step back, creating a bit of space between himself and the two young women. "And for the millionth time," he added, looking back over his shoulder at the bartender before turning his attention back. "I'm not gay, alright?"
X: WYATT & VIOLA
X: SPOILED the word 'no' is not a term they are
used to hearing - they come from a wealthy family,
and since they were infants, they have been given
everything that they could have ever asked for. they
are the sole children of their parents' fruitless marriages,
and because of general guilt over their time spent
in a nanny's care, they rarely are told that
they cannot have whatever their hearts desire.
X: VAIN is something they share, a high opinion of beautiful
things, and a love for the material goods of
the world that revolve around vanity. for both of
them, the idea of looking good is associated with
power and popularity. both have been told from very
early stages of their lives that beautiful people get
further in the world, and because of it, they
both allow looks to go to their heads rather quickly.
X: CARELESS what happens in their lives is of their own
concern, and in spite of what others may believe,
these two cannot seem to get that through their
thick skulls. both happen to have a taste for
dangerous things, which sometimes includes a date with a
dangerously addictive substance to liven up their 'mundane' existence
in reality. what they fail to realize is how
their self destructive behavior happens to affect those around them.
X: POWERFUL coming from wealthy families, their names mean something, and
have always meant something from the time they were
born. they have the sorts of names that can
get them off the hook for most anything with
a single phone call from mommy or daddy, and
that power can sometimes go to their heads in
spite of their best attempts to try to fit
in with a more 'normal' crowd.
X: bun lait
FULL NAME: character's full name NICKNAMES: any nicknames? MILESTONE: age of the character GENDER: male or female BIRTHDATE: character birthday SEXUALITY: hetrosexual, homosexual, bisexual, try and keep it balanced NATIONALITY: character's nationality e.g. english, american, french
HEIGHT: in feet and inches WEIGHT: in pounds EYE COLOR: just for clarification, blue, brown, green HAIR COLOR: just for clarification, brown, blonde, red NEEDLES: any tattoos, piercings, body mods? BLEMISHES: scars, birthmarks, weird moles maybe
GREEK NAME: your character's greek god/titan/creature's name here and a little on what they do GREEK GENDER: character's gender as a greek god/titan/creature (e.g. zeus = male) STATUS: your character's greek god/titan/creature a olympian, titan, primordial or creature? ROLE: what was the importance of your deity? ABILITIES: character's abilities because of their greek past. remember NO god-modelling so include a weakness to their abilities or a set back or something which puts them at a disadvantage. also, no more than three abilities per character
Depending you what grade your character is in, their timetable will change. Like, the freshman's timetable will be different to a senior's. And don't forget to put in your character's elective's from the main page either!! PLEASE DELETE THIS AND ANY YOU DON'T USE!
freshmen FIRST PERIOD: 9:OO – 9:1O Homeroom SECOND PERIOD: 9:1O – 9: 55 Algebra THIRD PERIOD: 1O:OO – 1O:45 Physical Science FOURTH PERIOD: 1O: 5O – 11 45 Physical Education/Health FIFTH PERIOD: 11:5O – 12: 47 Civics SIXTH PERIOD: 12: 52 – 1: 2O Lunch SEVENTH PERIOD: 1: 25 – 2:1O English I EIGHTH PERIOD: 2:15 – 3:O5 Fine Arts Class NINTH PERIOD: 3:O5 – 4:OO Elective
sophmore FIRST PERIOD: 9:OO – 9:1O Homeroom SECOND PERIOD: 9:1O – 9: 55 Biology THIRD PERIOD: 1O:OO – 1O:45 World History I FOURTH PERIOD: 1O: 5O – 11 45 Algebra II FIFTH PERIOD: 11:5O – 12: 47 English II SIXTH PERIOD: 12: 52 – 1: 2O Lunch SEVENTH PERIOD: 1: 25 – 2:1O College Prep EIGHTH PERIOD: 2:15 – 3:O5 Fine Arts NINTH PERIOD: 3:O5 – 4:OO Elective
junior FIRST PERIOD: 9:OO – 9:1O Homeroom SECOND PERIOD: 9:1O – 9: 55 English III THIRD PERIOD: 1O:OO – 1O:45 Geometry FOURTH PERIOD: 1O: 5O – 11 45 American History I FIFTH PERIOD: 11:5O – 12: 47 Spanish I /French I/ German I SIXTH PERIOD: 12: 52 – 1: 2O Lunch SEVENTH PERIOD: 1: 25 – 2:1O Chemistry EIGHTH PERIOD: 2:15 – 3:O5 College-Prep Class NINTH PERIOD: 3:O5 – 4:OO Elective
senior FIRST PERIOD: 9:OO – 9:1O Homeroom SECOND PERIOD: 9:1O – 9: 55 Trigonometry/Calculus THIRD PERIOD: 1O:OO – 1O:45 English IV FOURTH PERIOD: 1O: 5O – 11 45 Physics FIFTH PERIOD: 11:5O – 12: 47 US Government/Economics SIXTH PERIOD: 12: 52 – 1: 2O Lunch SEVENTH PERIOD: 1: 25 – 2:1O Spanish II/German II/ French II EIGHTH PERIOD: 2:15 – 3:O5 College Prep Class NINTH PERIOD: 3:O5 – 4:OO Elective
CLUBS: list the clubs your character is in. if none, delete this section.
CREATED BY: your username MODEL: your model's name here POSTING COLORS: list this character's posting colors or link to palette MUSIC: music used in the profile
« ✦ » relationships have never been juliana's forte, particularly when it comes to long winding, monogamous ones. it isn't that she has a problem with relationships ( quite the opposite, she's been in several now ) but she does struggle with making them last. physical attraction and chemistry is easy for her, but emotions are another story. ana tends to push people away when they attempt to get close, and if someone is already emotionally close with her, she refuses to be physically intimate with them; afraid that it might cause some sort of chaos between the pair, and any possibility of being hurt is something she avoids like the plague.
« ✦ » juliana cannot go without sleep. her body craves it, and if she goes without at least seven hours, the young woman ends up cranky and unhappy, particularly if her lack of sleep is followed up with a lack of caffeine as well. working in a small coffee shop for most of her younger years pushed her into a rather terrible coffee addiction, and while she hates to admit that she's hooked on the bitter substance, going a day or two without a mug will make her head ache and her hands shake. she adores being snuggled up in bed with her puppy curled into her side, having a good book held in her hands, and of course, any type of sweets - the young woman has quite the sweet tooth - ( she even tends to take her coffee with extra sugar. )
« ✦ » physical contact with anyone that she doesn't have an exclusively physical relationship with makes ana uncomfortable. she tends to shy away from it because it confuses her, and being confused by relationships is something she is not willing to put up with. other things she dislikes? most spicy foods, especially curry ( it makes her eyes water ), almost any cat she meets, swimming, and talking about her family are among the things she dislikes the most in life.
« ✦ » juliana has an older brother that she refuses to mention to most people - even to those who she has been in relationships with. the reason behind her keeping him secret from others? even she doesn't seem to know the answer to that one. oh, and she's a very aggressive driver; she has a great deal of road rage and tends to yell at people when she drives -- people don't like to allow her behind the wheel most of the time.
« ✦ » though her relationship with her mother has been strained for most of her life, she still wears a small pendant around her neck that she gave to her on her seventh birthday. juliana also has a serious relationship with her dog, pash, who she refers to as 'the only steady man in her life'
Clementine's sleepy gaze wandered over the bar, staring off past her thick red glasses frames and out onto the regulars that sat at the bistro's tables, drinking their days away as they always did. There was little about the scattered group of men and women that could surprise her any more, and with her mind more focused on the fact that tomorrow would be the start of her twentieth trip around the sun, she was far from concerned about what the regular patrons might be chattering about. To her right, Rory leaned on the bar, looking bored as ever, and in the back she could hear other staff members preparing some sort of food for one of the customers, but none seemed interested in keeping the waitress very busy. She almost considered attempting conversation with Rory, but was saved by the bell above the door, signaling the entrance of new customers. In one swift, fluid motion, Clementine pushed herself up off of the corner of the bar she had been resting against and flitted to the side of the tallest member of the group; a pink haired boy with wild feathers and strings added to his ponytail. She flashed a warm, genuine smile at the two young women who stood at his side, chattering away, and nodded toward them. "Welcome to Gaston's Bar and Bistro," she greeted in her usual bubbly voice.
Admittedly, there was very little Clem enjoyed about her job at Gaston's. She worked with a miserable bartender ( though she did love Rory in his own special way ) and she was becoming more and more accustomed to her customer's rude ways of presenting themselves to her, but there were bright sides ( including dear Ricarda, who Clementine adored ) and today, one of those bright sides happened to have a literal brightness to it. Being a little dive bar, Gaston's had its own crazy customers coming in and out every now and again, and with the three strangers wandering in, all of them seeming to obtain a higher energy than she thought humanly possible, she was sure that tonight was going to be an interesting one, to say the least.
"My name is Clementine, and I will be your waitress this afternoon," the pinkette continued her original thought, guiding the three strangers to their seats. The pink boy was grumpy, and thirsty, which she mentally noted when he ordered a drink almost immediately after sitting. The two young women, on the other hand, seemed kind enough to remember her name. She took out the simple yellow waitress pad that she kept tucked into the front of her apron and quickly scribbled down their orders. "Well, you all sound hungry, so I'll put those in right away!" she said with a lighthearted laugh, turning away to put the orders in behind the bar, where she was sure Ricarda was already hard at work. Making her way around the corner, she was surprised to find that the fair haired young woman was not in fact the one doing the cooking, but a second employee who was apparently covering her break. In spite of the slight disappointment that formed a pit in Clem's stomach, she forced her usual sunny smile and handed off the order. "Thanks," she added, picking up one of the prepared bread baskets that was waiting for her and wandering back out into the main part of the Bistro.
In the five minutes that it had taken for Clementine to drop off the orders and pick up a basket of bread for the new customers, chaos had ensued. She had vaguely heard shouting from the back of the restaurant, but she had hoped it was simply another scuffle between Rory and one of their drunk patrons. What she walked in on was something entirely different. By the time she had crossed the threshold, the two young women were at the bar talking loudly to Rory, and the pink haired boy - whose name she had gathered to be 'Lennie' from what she'd heard - was standing at the table, his palms pressed flat against the table cloth as if to restrain himself from lunging at the two young women. She hurried to his side and placed the bread on the table. "Please, enjoy," she said through gritted teeth, striding quickly over to the bar to figure out just what was going on.
"Rory," she exclaimed, pushing up her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose in a rather exasperated fashion. Before she was even able to demand what was going on, the bell above the door rang out once again, and as if on instinct, Clementine turned around and plastered a smile onto her face. "Welcome to Gaston's Bar and -- oh," she said simply, stopping her little greeting as soon as she realized that the customer was not a customer, but Rory's roommate Caspian, who had developed a habit of dropping in around lunch time. With little hope of getting much help from Rory, she approached the table where Lennon was sitting and offered a meek smile.
"If they're trying to set you up with Rory, he already has a boyfriend," Clem offered with a small, apologetic smile. "Or.. Maybe it was Mei he was seeing... Regardless, I'm sure there's another nice man out there for you." she gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder and looked back to the bar. "But, for the record, your first drink is on the house." And with that the pinkette wandered back to the bar, placing her hands on the wooden barrier between herself and the puzzled dark haired grump behind it. "I need a beer for our new table, when you're quite finished with your fan club."
OOC: was that too sassy for clem i'm sorry hi guys here she is xxxLOCATION: gaston's xxxCOMPANY: lennie, rory, cas, cerah, ali... who knows who else
The sound of heavy leather boots hitting the floor was enough to make Shinji straighten up his posture; chin forward, eyes set ahead, back straight. There was little time for impressions to be made when it came down to it, but Shin was one of the few who attempted to make lasting ones on the leaders of Ba Sing Se's rebel leaders. Making an impression on the men typically led to climbing ranks, and of course, climbing ranks meant a bigger role in the missions that the higher ups were currently putting together. He'd been with the rebels for some time now; about two years or so, but looking back on the past twenty four months of his life, it had seemed like he'd spent his entire life with the young men and women who were working to reclaim Ba Sing Se as a sanctuary for benders of all kinds. If you looked at the young man now, in his well kept earth bender attire of brown and green, you would hardly guess that he'd grown up like most of the others in Ba Sing Se; starving on the streets with barely enough food to keep himself and his mother from starving to death the way his father supposedly had. No, the rebel camp had taken care of Shinji when he had come to their underground recruitment meeting years ago; welcomed him with open arms, offered him a place to stay and a small bit of money that he was known to send back to his mother every week or so to keep her fed and comfortable. Thinking about his mother was enough to bring the ghost of a smile to his lips; it'd been nearly six months since he'd seen her, but the promise of knowing that soon enough he might was enough for him.
The doors to the common area swung open, and in marched two of the most important members of the rebellion; two tall, square jawed young men with green eyes that swept the room, taking in the small gathering of benders who sat, some nursing wounds, some simply sitting for the first time in a few hours, resting up from their last mission. One set of eyes settled on Shinji, who met them with a steady stare. "Hirota," the man rumbled, taking a step toward the young earth bender. "Come with us, you're needed by the captain."
The command was enough. No questions were asked, no other information exchanged. He followed silently down the long, earth encased corridors, his bare feet feeling comfortably natural against the cool stone. He flexed his fingers, attempting to expel the itch that was boiling up inside him to meld the earth. If he was lucky, the captain would want him to go on a scouting mission, or perhaps go in for a second raid that week. The goal of the rebellion group was to take down the Earth Queen, but one of their priorities was infiltrating the heart of Ba Sing Se, her palace, and collecting bits of her wealth in order to give to the starving people on the streets. Those sorts of missions were Shin's favorite; he adored the high risk sort, something that made his adrenalin rush and his heart pound in his ears when he had a brush with the worst of the earth kingdom's benders. He was brought into the main room, a cavernous place that had a large, stone table in the center with a few simple wooden chairs scattered about. On the table lay a well marked map of Ba Sing Se, and beneath it, a crudely drawn map of the Earth Queen's palace, complete with marked entrances and exits for the quickest and most efficient raid tactics. Bent over the table stood one of the most powerful young men of the rebellion, a bender named Tsu who had his gaze fixated on the maps. One of the men to his side cleared their throat. "Captain," he called. "Shinji Hirota."
The older bender glanced up, puzzled by the introduction, but gave a warm smile to Shin and gestured him over. "My most trusted cadet," he said with a rumbling laugh, using his hands to draw a piece of earth from the ground just to his right and giving the flattened stone a pat. "Come, sit. As you know, Avatar Korra has come to Ba Sing Se and confronted the Earth Queen," he stated matter of factly. "But it seems there was trouble at the palace; prisoners are escaping, which is bad for the Earth Queen, but good for us."
Shin's eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. "The perfect distraction," he muttered under his breath, glancing up at the captain. The pair shared dubious, knowing grins, and the captain clapped him on the shoulder. A prison break meant that the guards would be too busy searching to pay them any mind while they snuck in and out of the palace. "When do I leave?" asked the earth bender, itching to get on the road.
"As soon as possible." Tsu said, nodding to a pair of figures standing in the doorway. "Shiro and Ana will be accompanying you, as usual." Shin glanced over to the fire and earth bender standing by the door. The pair were his go to team members, the two he trusted with his life. "Go ahead, cadet. We're counting on you." And with that, Shin pushed himself out of his chair and headed toward the door that led out into the lower circle, and the poverty that he was mercilessly attempting to extinguish.
...
The Earth Queen's palace was hardly guarded when the threesome wandered into the upper circle and advanced through the wealthiest part of Ba Sing Se, where most of the guards were weaving in and out of the foot traffic and market place stands that were set up. The three benders, all moving together in a tightly knit pack, wandered quickly and quietly, but managed to avoid much suspicion, or any run ins with the scowering guards, who were far too preoccupied with their current search to stop and question the business of the rebels. With luck on their side, the three advanced, practically unnoticed, through the city and toward the palace. The large, stone walls loomed high above Shin's head, and his fingertips tingled with anticipation. How he wanted so terribly just to blow one of those walls apart with his bare hands, to take down the vile Earth Queen on his own. But that was sure suicide, and today he had others to think of.
"Shiro, Ana," he nodded to the benders at his side and toward the side entrance they typically snuck in through. It was unguarded, probably due to the escaping prisoners, but the reason didn't matter. All that mattered now was the task at hand; sneak into the palace, get the goods, and get out as soon as possible, not seen, not recognized, and certainly not followed.
The three made their way one by one by one through the unguarded door and down the corridor. Shin had abandoned his shoes in a close by alley, among a pile of garbage that had been left, and was using his feet and hands against the cool stone in order to see what was around them. Shiro held a flame in his hands, letting the dim light flicker off the walls and lead the way. Any creak or bump would cause the fire bender to shut his hands and immediately extinguish the flames simply to keep out of sight. Ana held up the rear, walking carefully backward, hands ready to uproot the earth at any sign that they had been discovered or were being followed. The halls were maze like; twists and turns that led them deeper and deeper into the heart of the palace, but the trio had made their way through here many times before, almost too many to recount.
The creaking of a door up ahead made Shin freeze. The small flame went out instantly, and all that could be heard was the ringing of silence loudly in their ears. The earth bending leader shut his eyes, listening and feeling, watching the mental image of whoever was up ahead; their feet were on the ground, covered by thick leather boots. A guard, an earth bender, but one who was not expecting to be confronted, apparently. They held their breath, waiting as the footsteps grew nearer. Shin pressed himself into the shadows, along with the others, but whoever it was moved past the adjacent hallway that they were hiding in and continued directly through a second door a few more feet away. A soft sigh of relief was heard from Ana, and a moment later, the passage lit up once more. The three rounded the corner and headed through the door that the guard and initially left. They were close now, closer than before. A few more sets of doors and close run ins with wandering servants later, the trio made their way into the room that held a large portion of the Earth Queen's riches.
"Hallelujah," Shiro laughed aloud, walking over and beginning to pile gold in his pockets and bag. "Let's get what we can and get out of here."
Ana nodded in agreement. "Agreed, I don't care how many guards there are, I don't like the feeling of being in here. Gives me the creeps."
Shin rolled his eyes at the pair and moved into the room, piling what he could of the riches into his own bag. "Just hurry, we don't know how long this distraction is going to last, and the last thing we need is the Earth Queen her self wandering in and having our heads." He bowed his head and moved around the room in silence, taking what wouldn't be missed by the queen, and what would put food on the tables of hundreds of starving families in Ba Sing Se.
...
The three darted out of the upper circle of Ba Sing Se with jingling bags and huge grins on their faces. Shiro let out a loud whoop as he darted around, heading to a small family owned fruit stand and handing over a handful of gold. "Three of your best melons, good sir!" the fire bender demanded, earning an awestruck gaze from the vendor.
Ana nudged him hard in the shoulder and continued walking along with Shiro. The earth bender was so wrapped up in his own victorious thoughts that he hardly noticed the figure of a young woman coming toward him at full speed. Her tiny figure slammed into his broad chest, and for a moment, he even took a step back, seriously affected by the impact. She staggered backward, swaying on her feet before collapsing onto the ground, apparently out cold. He stared at her limp figure, wide-eyed and in total shock, only brought back when Shiro hit him in the arm. "Wow, you have all the girls just falling at your feet, don't you, Shin?" the fire bender teased mercilessly.
Shin elbowed him in the ribs, hard, and grunted, "Shut up, cadet. Come on, we have to get her up."
Shin tossed his bag to Shiro, who fumbled with the heavy sack for a moment while the leader of the trio scooped the young woman up off of the ground and slung her over his shoulder with ease. "What are you going to do with her?" Ana inquired, puzzled. Shin responded with a shrug. "She's a new face to the lower circle, and a liability if she pegs this on us. We're taking her back to the others."
Shiro arched a brow. "Is that such a good idea?" he asked hesitantly.
"It doesn't matter, it's what we're doing. Come on." he said firmly, pushing onward while the rest of the group trailed behind them. It wasn't far, a few blocks and then down through their safe house and into the cavernous hide out. Shiro and Ana broke away about half way down to stash their loot along with the rest, but Shin brought the young woman into the room where he'd plotted out the plans with the captain. Unsurprisingly, the man was still there, reading over his plans as always. "Captain," Shin placed the young woman down in a chair, earning a surprised look from the older bender. "What's all this, then?" then man demanded in a deep, rumbling voice. "Shinji, your assignment was to bring back gold, not captives."
The earth bender shook his head. "She's a new face in the lower circle," he explained. "Ran into us on the way back and fainted on the spot, there was no way we could leave her on the street, sir... What do you want me to do with her?"
The captain sighed, shaking his head. "Imprisoning her would be unfair if we don't know who she is or what she's capable of... Make her comfortable, Shin. Watch her until she wakes up, and then we'll talk about what we can do with her." Tsu stated, running a hand down his wary face. "Bring her to your quarters, would you, Shinji? When she wakes, send for me, I'll be happy to get to know the young woman a bit more."
Shin nodded and picked up the young woman once more, hoisting her a bit more comfortably this time. "Will do, Captain," he said simply, bowing his head before walking out of the room.
HIs quarters were on the opposite side of the compound, but it didn't take terribly long to get there. He managed to get the door open with little trouble and stepped into the small, room that held a simple cot, a wooden chair, and a small wardrobe for his clothing. He placed the young woman on the cot and glanced around. There wasn't much for him to do, so instead of bother leaving, he moved to sit in the small chair, a bit exhausted from his escapade of the day. It wasn't long before the earth bender was snoring once again, absolutely exhausted.
OOC: Oh god this is long I'm sorry I rambled a lot bae
(I will leave it up to you what, if anyting, happens between Blanche and Apollo while they're alone in the tunnels~ )
If ever any had been as practiced in the fine art of masking one’s bemusement at something ridiculous as she was, Aurelie had yet to meet them. As she slid down the surprisingly steep drop from the platform to the tracks, she wondered whether it was a practice better suited to the female gender or if Apollonaire was simply very bad at it. Being as familiar as she was with such mockery, the resulting act of pretending not to have noticed the action-driven patriot’s stifled snickers was far more believable than his attempt to disguise them. In silence the two of them walked, though she felt his eyes flickering against the side of her face every once in a while. With each step she contemplated returning the coat that had brought on their unfortunate run-in with Valentine and Grantaire. It was more difficult than it should have been and she turned her mind to other things; their two fellow Amis being a prime subject. Whether those two had any particular interest in their fair patria’s liberation from the weighty hand of corruption, or if they were simply in it to have something to do was a frequent point of contemplation for the serious young woman. But strangely, it was their idle and admittedly meaningless comments that troubled her more at the moment.
Easily mistaken for practicality, Apollonaire’s tendency to have any number of useful (and utterly useless) objects in his pockets had started in childhood. Rather than that, Aurelie knew it to be the habit of someone who often lingered in a dream state, who would become fascinated by the potential of an object and tuck it away even if there was no foreseeable need for it to anyone else. He was someone who could not see the practical and logistical issues before him and thus needed her to light the way – much as his flashlight was now doing for them. Unfortunately, such visual assistance arrived seconds-late to prevent her unfortunate near collision with the ground. The fall was not the issue but rather, her surprising desire to resort to dramatics in order to get her childhood friend to set her down. Just barely defeating it, Aurelie could only harden her stare and the line of her mouth in response to being carried like an infant and deposited with a similar degree of care onto the dusty floor of the abandoned compartment. The words, /”I shouldn’t have taken you along.”/ assisted greatly in this endeavor.
“I did not come at your behest but in order to look for Miss. Pontmercy.” She reminded him, her voice a crack too sharp to be neutral. Bearing the subsequent tension would have been too much but fortunately, the world seemed only too happy to provide yet another distraction. Les Amis knew better than to be too loud in the underground tunnels; abandoned as they were, one never knew if someone was listening. Their newest member had yet to pick up that particular credo and Aurelie heard Blanche’s distinct gasp of fright ricocheting from wall to wall until it reached her ears there in the empty train car. “Speaking of whom…” She murmured, more softly. With a great deal of apprehension she shrugged her slim shoulders out of the coat which had been so generously slipped onto her by the same man to whom she now returned it. “Blanche might be cold.” Aurelie explained, struggling to reach an evenness of tone that seemed to want to escape her very much. It was only at Apollonaire’s exit that a sudden rush of air left her and it occurred to the petite Frenchwoman that she had been holding her breath. Her eyes stung and became moist, though she was sure to wipe her hands on her skirts before flicking away the offending wetness on her lashes. /The dust, surely./ She assessed with only a moderate degree of confidence. For whatever reason, the prospect of waiting (as she always seemed to be) for Enjolras to return did not appeal to her. Thus, it was with a middling amount of pain but an even greater level of stubbornness that she rose and hobbled her way back towards the café – trusting that her fellow revolutionaries would follow.
“Minus one lovebird!” Cried a clearly inebriated Roux Valentine Lesgle in a loud and lewd voice. “With your charms, Madmoiselle, I am sure you will be making lovebirds out of at least a few more gentlemen before the night is through.” An irritated Aurelie quipped back, to bawdy laughter and an abashed look from her fellow female. Valentine was hardly in a position to speak of love from her much more character-appropriate place on the lap of a newer recruit. Grantaire’s heavily lidded eyes watched the sultry woman as she whispered, undoubtedly, nonsense into the other young man’s ear. Altogether primmer though she was, Combeferre could see her appeal. There was something wanton there, animalistic even, that lured men towards her siren’s call. Even the way she moved was altogether sexual in nature and seemed to inspire jealousy where there should have only been acceptance. After all, Mademoiselle Lesgle had a new lover every few days (oftentimes because the previous one had a tendency to expire trying to make a hero of himself during their more daring activities.) Why Claude thought he had any specific claim on her baffled Aurelie. In truth her harsh internal chastisement of his misguided possessiveness over someone who clearly did not share his affections might have derived from /other/ sources. But she would not examine those feelings at that time.
The slight was forgotten as quickly and easily as the eager meal Aurelie had managed to provide their group with that evening. She didn’t dwell on it, choosing instead to wake the sleeping and gather those still standing outside. It didn’t take much effort on her part and was probably rather unnecessary. The second Apollonaire stepped into the building they would all turn their eyes and ears to him; but it was better to be organized about things no? The brunette had settled calmly into her standard seat when a familiar flash of scarlet made it through the doorframe…several inches too short to be Enjolras. Her expression, or lack of it, did not change; only her silence did. “Blanche.” She greeted the shivering, red-nosed girl amiably. Her wild, honey colored curls looked so delicately smoothed out but the rest of her would have been a terrified fright if it wasn’t for the protective layer of Apollo’s coat. A biting little voice chirped up, unheard by the others for it resided solely in her own mind. It reminded her, when she did not wish to be reminded, that she’d very nearly mistaken the very same coat on her own body as some sort of…sign. How stupid she’d been. “Come sit down, my dear.” She finally said, rising from her chair and pulling it out for the little dove of a child. The others might have looked at her as if she was a delicate debutante but Aurelie hardly FELT the part. Blanche, on the other hand, very much seemed to. “Thank you, Aurelie.” Her eyes were the pale color of seaglass, blue going green in the dim light and they sparkled with such sincerity that Combeferre's smile in return was completely genuine. But as she moved away from the place where Enjolras would soon take his seat beside their newest member, she realized those pretty orbs were rimmed in redness and before he could ask if anything was the matter she felt her back stiffen automatically at the entrance of their fearless leader. He looked uncharacteristically nervous for a fraction of a second as his gaze darted between herself and then to Blanche, but soon he had control of himself and the room once more. It was time to begin discussing the raid that would take place tonight. Wordlessly, Aurelie paced the silent steps from where she’d been sitting to an empty space leaning against the bar. Something close to a squeak, sounding fiendishly close to a giggle, came from her when a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist. For the second time that day she was lifted like a child, this time by Marc Ames Prouvaire. For the first time – she smiled about it. The shy, strong and silent Prouvaire only nodded his acknowledgements. The moment seemed to be between the two of them only until a raunchy joke was delivered by Claude that sent the café into a riot. It was of little consequence. Soon enough they’d settled down and a dreadful through occurred to her; who among those smiling now would no longer live when the sun rose anew?
(I will leave it up to you what, if anyting, happens between Blanche and Apollo while they're alone in the tunnels~ )
If ever any had been as practiced in the fine art of masking one’s bemusement at something ridiculous as she was, Aurelie had yet to meet them. As she slid down the surprisingly steep drop from the platform to the tracks, she wondered whether it was a practice better suited to the female gender or if Apollonaire was simply very bad at it. Being as familiar as she was with such mockery, the resulting act of pretending not to have noticed the action-driven patriot’s stifled snickers was far more believable than his attempt to disguise them. In silence the two of them walked, though she felt his eyes flickering against the side of her face every once in a while. With each step she contemplated returning the coat that had brought on their unfortunate run-in with Valentine and Grantaire. It was more difficult than it should have been and she turned her mind to other things; their two fellow Amis being a prime subject. Whether those two had any particular interest in their fair patria’s liberation from the weighty hand of corruption, or if they were simply in it to have something to do was a frequent point of contemplation for the serious young woman. But strangely, it was their idle and admittedly meaningless comments that troubled her more at the moment.
Easily mistaken for practicality, Apollonaire’s tendency to have any number of useful (and utterly useless) objects in his pockets had started in childhood. Rather than that, Aurelie knew it to be the habit of someone who often lingered in a dream state, who would become fascinated by the potential of an object and tuck it away even if there was no foreseeable need for it to anyone else. He was someone who could not see the practical and logistical issues before him and thus needed her to light the way – much as his flashlight was now doing for them. Unfortunately, such visual assistance arrived seconds-late to prevent her unfortunate near collision with the ground. The fall was not the issue but rather, her surprising desire to resort to dramatics in order to get her childhood friend to set her down. Just barely defeating it, Aurelie could only harden her stare and the line of her mouth in response to being carried like an infant and deposited with a similar degree of care onto the dusty floor of the abandoned compartment. The words, /”I shouldn’t have taken you along.”/ assisted greatly in this endeavor.
“I did not come at your behest but in order to look for Miss. Pontmercy.” She reminded him, her voice a crack too sharp to be neutral. Bearing the subsequent tension would have been too much but fortunately, the world seemed only too happy to provide yet another distraction. Les Amis knew better than to be too loud in the underground tunnels; abandoned as they were, one never knew if someone was listening. Their newest member had yet to pick up that particular credo and Aurelie heard Blanche’s distinct gasp of fright ricocheting from wall to wall until it reached her ears there in the empty train car. “Speaking of whom…” She murmured, more softly. With a great deal of apprehension she shrugged her slim shoulders out of the coat which had been so generously slipped onto her by the same man to whom she now returned it. “Blanche might be cold.” Aurelie explained, struggling to reach an evenness of tone that seemed to want to escape her very much. It was only at Apollonaire’s exit that a sudden rush of air left her and it occurred to the petite Frenchwoman that she had been holding her breath. Her eyes stung and became moist, though she was sure to wipe her hands on her skirts before flicking away the offending wetness on her lashes. /The dust, surely./ She assessed with only a moderate degree of confidence. For whatever reason, the prospect of waiting (as she always seemed to be) for Enjolras to return did not appeal to her. Thus, it was with a middling amount of pain but an even greater level of stubbornness that she rose and hobbled her way back towards the café – trusting that her fellow revolutionaries would follow.
“Minus one lovebird!” Cried a clearly inebriated Roux Valentine Lesgle in a loud and lewd voice. “With your charms, Madmoiselle, I am sure you will be making lovebirds out of at least a few more gentlemen before the night is through.” An irritated Aurelie quipped back, to bawdy laughter and an abashed look from her fellow female. Valentine was hardly in a position to speak of love from her much more character-appropriate place on the lap of a newer recruit. Grantaire’s heavily lidded eyes watched the sultry woman as she whispered, undoubtedly, nonsense into the other young man’s ear. Altogether primmer though she was, Combeferre could see her appeal. There was something wanton there, animalistic even, that lured men towards her siren’s call. Even the way she moved was altogether sexual in nature and seemed to inspire jealousy where there should have only been acceptance. After all, Mademoiselle Lesgle had a new lover every few days (oftentimes because the previous one had a tendency to expire trying to make a hero of himself during their more daring activities.) Why Claude thought he had any specific claim on her baffled Aurelie. In truth her harsh internal chastisement of his misguided possessiveness over someone who clearly did not share his affections might have derived from /other/ sources. But she would not examine those feelings at that time.
The slight was forgotten as quickly and easily as the eager meal Aurelie had managed to provide their group with that evening. She didn’t dwell on it, choosing instead to wake the sleeping and gather those still standing outside. It didn’t take much effort on her part and was probably rather unnecessary. The second Apollonaire stepped into the building they would all turn their eyes and ears to him; but it was better to be organized about things no? The brunette had settled calmly into her standard seat when a familiar flash of scarlet made it through the doorframe…several inches too short to be Enjolras. Her expression, or lack of it, did not change; only her silence did. “Blanche.” She greeted the shivering, red-nosed girl amiably. Her wild, honey colored curls looked so delicately smoothed out but the rest of her would have been a terrified fright if it wasn’t for the protective layer of Apollo’s coat. A biting little voice chirped up, unheard by the others for it resided solely in her own mind. It reminded her, when she did not wish to be reminded, that she’d very nearly mistaken the very same coat on her own body as some sort of…sign. How stupid she’d been. “Come sit down, my dear.” She finally said, rising from her chair and pulling it out for the little dove of a child. The others might have looked at her as if she was a delicate debutante but Aurelie hardly FELT the part. Blanche, on the other hand, very much seemed to. “Thank you, Aurelie.” Her eyes were the pale color of seaglass, blue going green in the dim light and they sparkled with such sincerity that Combeferre's smile in return was completely genuine. But as she moved away from the place where Enjolras would soon take his seat beside their newest member, she realized those pretty orbs were rimmed in redness and before he could ask if anything was the matter she felt her back stiffen automatically at the entrance of their fearless leader. He looked uncharacteristically nervous for a fraction of a second as his gaze darted between herself and then to Blanche, but soon he had control of himself and the room once more. It was time to begin discussing the raid that would take place tonight. Wordlessly, Aurelie paced the silent steps from where she’d been sitting to an empty space leaning against the bar. Something close to a squeak, sounding fiendishly close to a giggle, came from her when a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist. For the second time that day she was lifted like a child, this time by Marc Ames Prouvaire. For the first time – she smiled about it. The shy, strong and silent Prouvaire only nodded his acknowledgements. The moment seemed to be between the two of them only until a raunchy joke was delivered by Claude that sent the café into a riot. It was of little consequence. Soon enough they’d settled down and a dreadful through occurred to her; who among those smiling now would no longer live when the sun rose anew?
Having placed Aurelie safely – or what he hoped would have been safely for the young woman – on the floor of the dusty train car, Enjolras ran his fingers through his locks and glanced quickly over his shoulder, ensuring that they had not been heard when he’d so stupidly shouted out her name. Combeferre was a woman of integrity, of intelligence, but one simple slip of her foot and he had gone diving after her, picking her slender frame off of the ground and insisting upon carrying the young woman until they had reached the car. Though she had seemed upset by his theatrics, he was subsequently frustrated with himself. He had every reason to be, really; he knew better than anyone the dangers of leading someone to their hideaway… Especially when he was the one sleeping there a good portion of the time. He shook the thoughts away, only fully returning to himself when a soft gasp ricocheted off the stone walls of the underground tunnel and made its way to the ears of the young revolutionaries. Before he could protest, Aurelie had slipped his thick red woolen jacket from her shoulders and was returning it to the chief, who stood wide eyed and puzzled. “She might be cold,” she explained quietly, and his response was a simple nod.
“Stay here, I’ll retrieve Blanche. Your ankle won’t do well on the uneven tracks,”Enjolras reasoned, taking a few steps toward the opposite door of the train car. He left the curly haired young woman too quickly for her to respond. He knew how she hated being told what to do, and even more so, hated being left while he ran head on into the action with her to hold down the fort. He wasn’t the best of leaders, of that he was sure, but his concern for Aurelie got the better of him more often than not, and for that, he could not say he blamed himself. There was simply something about his centre that kept him on his toes.
Blanche was not very far from the train car, as he took cautious steps over the broken rails, he could hear the soft whimpers of the young Miss Pontmercy growing louder and louder, or perhaps more and more distinguishable would be a better way of describing them. When he found her, lost and whimpering, looking hopelessly confused, like a child with her wide, teary eyes, he couldn’t help but be a bit glad Aurelie had been right about the jacket. “Miss Pontmercy, I daresay you’re making us late to our own party,” the tall revolutionary said, offering her a smile that the young girl did not at first return. No, she was entirely startled by Enjolras, and visibly jumped when he chose to speak without warning. She murmured rapidly in French, too quickly for him to catch, but quickly took six strides and was at his side. “Monsieur,” she sniffled, rubbing at her reddened eyes. “Forgive me. I did not mean to make us late.” Enjolras let out a laugh and gently draped his coat over the slender shoulders of Blanche, giving her back a soft rub. “It’s quite alright, Aurelie and I were worried you’d gotten lost. Come on, she’s waiting for us.”
The pair fell into silent strides beside one another, a few inches between them. It was not, Enjolras soon realized, as comfortable as it had been with Aurelie, and he wondered briefly if she would mention his coat being on the shoulders of Blanche the way Claude had earlier in the evening. The chief frowned, but quickly pushed the thought from his head. She had been the one to mention that Blanche would need it; there would be no reason for him not to offer it to the shivering Pontmercy. Still… The idea troubled him more than it should have. By the time they reached the train car, the silence between himself and Blanche had become so suffocating that he was glad the third young woman would be joining them. “Just through here,” Apollo instructed, taking Blanche’s hand while he helped her into the car. The blushing young woman looked around, wide eyed when he hoisted her up and pulled her with perhaps a bit too much force, bringing her against his chest for a fraction of a second. She stood there a moment, like a deer in headlights, leaning against the chief with her hands against his chest, and for a moment he wondered if she thought the action intentional. “Pardon,” Enjolras said quickly, taking a few steps back and looking around. No Aurelie. Part of him was relieved she wasn’t there to witness the uncomfortable intimacy that had been shared, but then he wondered where in the world she might have gone. “Back to the Café, I suppose.” Apollo murmured with a sigh, looking back to Blanche. “We’re nearly there, just a bit further.”
The café itself glowed from the outside, a few laughs and shouts bringing his attention back from inside his head. “There’s the man of the hour,” slurred an already drunk Grantaire, who clapped him on the shoulder for the second time that night while Blanche slipper herself inside, coat still wrapped around her body. “Two ladies in one night, really living it up before we become martyrs, aren’t we, Apollo?” howled Claude with an enormous smile. Apollo shrugged his hand off and rolled his eyes. “Blanche was lost.” Enjolras stated matter of factly. “Nothing more.” Claude snickered at his response. “Are you saying she lost—“ “Claude--!” Apollo erupted, scandalized by the very idea, but was only met with another howling laugh. Flushed and beyond uncomfortable, the chief pushed past the drunk and into the café, where the rest of les amis were waiting.
Upon stepping into the café, his gaze drifted directly to the flash of crimson in the corner, his coat wrapped around the young Pontmercy, and then to Aurelie, who met his gaze only for a few moments. Unnecessary nervousness welled in the pit of his stomach, but it was quickly put out when his second in command broke from his gaze and instead headed to the bar. He made his way over to Blanche, placing a hand on her back and offering a comforting smile, about to ask how she was fairing. Claude broke his concentration with another terrible joke, this one aimed directly at Aurelie and Marc, who were sharing an intimate moment of their own. A twinge of jealousy made him clear his throat, calling attention back to the front of the room. “Friends, Patriots, the time is drawing nearer and nearer; our plans have been set. Monsieur LeMarc is dead, and it is at his funeral, while they carry his body through the streets, that we will rise again, and reclaim what is ours!” the leader rose to his feet, climbing rather nimbly onto a chair to project above the rest of the silent café. “It will be less than a week. Gather your rifles, prepare your cannons. Together we shall build our barricade and fight for Patria!” he cried, holding his fist in the air. The café erupted in shouting and applause with the patriot’s conclusion. The date had been set, this, this was it, this was their time to fight.
XXXXXXI WAS SINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M SUNKXXXXXI WAS DRINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M DRUNKXXXXXI WAS SINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M SUNKXXXXXI WAS DRINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M DRUNKXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXROTTING LIKE A WRECK˟❛ON THE OCEAN FLOOR; XX◞`SINKING LIKE A SIREN↪ THAT CAN'T SWIM ANYMORE! XXXXXXXXCAUSE OUR SONGS REMIND ME OF SWIMMING XXXBUT I CAN'T SWIM ANYMORE XXXCAUSE OUR SONGS REMIND ME OF SWIMMING XXXBUT I CAN'T SWIM XXXXXX
The realization alone was enough to send his pulse racing. It had been so many years - too many years - since he had even laid eyes on the girl who had cast him aside so long ago. He was ashamed to admit how truly terrified he was to see her again, but the fear itself would not be enough to startle him out of his duties, the ones he had been assigned to only a few days before. He took a breath and held it for a moment before daring to peek out the window once more.
Her appearance through the trees was shocking. She looked the same as she had when she was a child, with her large eyes and dull blonde hair. He swore for a moment his heart stopped, just skipped a beat or two in his chest and lay there stunned and shuttering. Ellie stared, stunned into silence when he realized what she was wearing. Her skirts were so wide and flowing, so different from what she had worn when she was a child. Though, now that he thought about it, the dress she was in seemed so familiar to the one she had worn only a few days before he was stuffed away in that garbage bag and cast out of her life for what she must have thought to be forever. That cut deep. Ellie sunk back against the kitchen counter and pressed himself against the counter, attempting to slow his heart rate with a few deep breaths, talking himself down from a full fledged panic attack. He was dangerously close to having a break down. He had made himself promise that he would give her a chance - give everyone a chance - to explain her situation, but he was already shaking after having just seen her, he wasn't sure how soon he would have to be around her.
Instead of sticking around the kitchen, Ellie slipped out the side door of the cabin and hurried through the small garden, heading for the tall tree in the back yard. There he was sure he had seen the shadow of another toy, and to his delight, he spotted Noir with her feet dangling from a higher branch. Without a moment's hesitation, the once elephant scrambled up the trunk of the tree and clumsily made his way over to her, pitching dangerously to the side once or twice before he managed to get to her side and settled down with a foot or so of space between them. He was silent for a long moment, following her gaze and studying the figures that were standing off in the distance. She seemed lost in thought at the moment, but Ellie couldn't contain himself much longer.
XXXXXXI WAS SINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M SUNKXXXXXI WAS DRINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M DRUNKXXXXXI WAS SINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M SUNKXXXXXI WAS DRINKINGXXXXXNOW I'M DRUNKXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXROTTING LIKE A WRECK˟❛ON THE OCEAN FLOOR; XX◞`SINKING LIKE A SIREN↪ THAT CAN'T SWIM ANYMORE! XXXXXXXXCAUSE OUR SONGS REMIND ME OF SWIMMING XXXBUT I CAN'T SWIM ANYMORE XXXCAUSE OUR SONGS REMIND ME OF SWIMMING XXXBUT I CAN'T SWIM XXXXXX
The realization alone was enough to send his pulse racing. It had been so many years - too many years - since he had even laid eyes on the girl who had cast him aside so long ago. He was ashamed to admit how truly terrified he was to see her again, but the fear itself would not be enough to startle him out of his duties, the ones he had been assigned to only a few days before. He took a breath and held it for a moment before daring to peek out the window once more.
Her appearance through the trees was shocking. She looked the same as she had when she was a child, with her large eyes and dull blonde hair. He swore for a moment his heart stopped, just skipped a beat or two in his chest and lay there stunned and shuttering. Ellie stared, stunned into silence when he realized what she was wearing. Her skirts were so wide and flowing, so different from what she had worn when she was a child. Though, now that he thought about it, the dress she was in seemed so familiar to the one she had worn only a few days before he was stuffed away in that garbage bag and cast out of her life for what she must have thought to be forever. That cut deep. Ellie sunk back against the kitchen counter and pressed himself against the counter, attempting to slow his heart rate with a few deep breaths, talking himself down from a full fledged panic attack. He was dangerously close to having a break down. He had made himself promise that he would give her a chance - give everyone a chance - to explain her situation, but he was already shaking after having just seen her, he wasn't sure how soon he would have to be around her.
Instead of sticking around the kitchen, Ellie slipped out the side door of the cabin and hurried through the small garden, heading for the tall tree in the back yard. There he was sure he had seen the shadow of another toy, and to his delight, he spotted Noir with her feet dangling from a higher branch. Without a moment's hesitation, the once elephant scrambled up the trunk of the tree and clumsily made his way over to her, pitching dangerously to the side once or twice before he managed to get to her side and settled down with a foot or so of space between them. He was silent for a long moment, following her gaze and studying the figures that were standing off in the distance. She seemed lost in thought at the moment, but Ellie couldn't contain himself much longer.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ ˟❛ ♛xxXXXXXXXxx( CAPTAIN ) JEAN AUGUSTUS FRANCOIS BARTOLOME JAMES? ˟ REED
Had it been his intention to follow the lovely red haired young pirate that had caught his eye to the port's tavern? Not that the captain would admit, of course. His men had been weary, they had been led astray once again by their glorious captain, and they deserved a little more than a night off, but for now it was all he could offer them. When he had made the proposal to the battered, weary men who had found themselves duped by the last failed raid, he hadn't received a single word of disagreement. Unanimously the men had risen up in their heavy leather boots and thrust their daggers and pistols into the air, emitting a barbaric cry for rum and women, two things that they loved most on the planet. It had been settled, then; with their course set, they had begun to sail toward the closest port, where the rum would never run dry and the barmaids never tired of their seaborne lovers. It was a day later that they had landed, and off the young men had scurried to make the most of their twenty four hours on shore. But it was the captain, the beloved Jean Augustus Francois Bartolome James Reed, who had decided that his day would be better spend wandering the port. That is, until he spotted the divine red haired young woman who had lured him into the tavern blocks away from where his men had gone. He had seen her only for a moment, and was otherwise occupied with his duties, but the young captain resolved that he would be enjoying her company soon enough, and later that night, did exactly as he had vowed.
The tavern itself was small, cramped with women and men of all sorts, though the young ladies seemed to be rather numerous that night. A few caught his eye, a blonde that was happily flirting with her waiter, a tanned lass that moved her hips in such a tantalizing manner that he was sure the young man watching her was caught in his own personal trance, but none seemed to please exactly what it was he was looking for. Just as he sat down, he caught a glimpse of the red head he had set his sights on, her feet lifted onto a table, gaze fixed on a few other young women in the tavern. She was a captain, of that much he was certain -- her clothing was fine and her demeanor was one of a frightfully powerful woman, though he was unmoved by it. Before he was able to bring himself to his feet, a smiling brunette found her way over to him, and for a moment, he was taken aback by the barmaid's forwardness, the way she so seamlessly slipped herself into his lap and paid the weary captain sweet compliments combined with the most dangerous of kisses. In spite of the very real distraction that was being used against him at that moment, his gaze was still flickering toward that redhead every now and again, in spite of his better judgement warning him against it.
"Tell me, mon amour," he purred quietly into the barmaid's ear, hoping to receive a bit of information along with his pleasure at the moment. "Who are the ladies in your tavern tonight, there are never so many, are there?"
She let out a laugh and shook her head, pulling away for a moment. "Very rarely are there this many women," the barmaid admitted, glancing over her shoulder. She smiled mischievously at Reed. "I believe they're only staying the night, from what their captain said..."
The captain raised a brow at the young woman, who promptly went back to pressing kisses along his jaw. "The red haired one?" he clarified, though the only response was a muffled sigh and a slight nod against his neck. He shut his eyes a moment, attempting to take his mind off of the captain across the room and enjoy himself, but when he opened his eyes again, he was met with her fiery gaze, which quickly darted to the dancing young woman he had seen earlier - most likely a close friend of hers.
And then she was up, sweeping papers off of the table in one quick motion that sent a young man to his knees, and hurriedly making her way over to a very cozy looking couple. The words exchanged were too quiet for him to hear, but the tanned girl stood up, clearly upset, and let out a cry of protest. "But we've only just arrived, Clarissa," pleaded the girl, who was clearly very set on reclaiming her seat on the young man's lap that she had left unattended. Her pleas were quickly silenced by a hand over her mouth, and though she seemed not to want to listen, she fell submissive to the impressively powerful red head.
"Sounds like they're finally clearing out," murmured the barmaid, who giggled a bit into his ear. She seemed a bit too excited to lure him away from the red head that had caught his interest, and though he had to admit she was rather comfortable in his lap at the moment, his own intentions were far different than hers. His intention to respond was lost when she returned to his previous task, and his eyelids sank shut once more. If she was leaving, then perhaps he would be able to enjoy himself a bit more here before wandering out into the night to find his own crew. The thought seemed appealing until two shots were fired into the air, sending an uneasy silence over the tavern. His eyes snapped open, searching for the source, only to find that it was the captain herself, standing up on a table and hollering for her crew to head out, tossing a pointed look his way.
She had stormed out with fifteen girls trailing behind, including the disappointed one that had protested against her moments before and the boy with a load of maps and papers in his arms. Made curious by a glimpse of one of the maps he'd caught when the boy scurried by, Reed sat himself up and slipped the barmaid off of his lap. "I believe that's my cue," he said with no other explanation, leaving the young barmaid to gape after him in shock.
The captain headed out onto the streets, where he spotted the red head retreating with the crew at her heels. Determined, he made his way around a few of the girls and called out. "Sir," he called, placing a hand on the shoulder of the young man who had been holding the maps tucked beneath his arm. "I apologize for the disturbance, but you see, I'm so hopelessly lost," he lied without fail, offering up a woe is me tone to go along with his story. "I had noticed in the tavern that you had a map with you, and I was hoping that I might--"
He pitched himself sideways, 'tripping' over an uneven cobblestone and into the side of the young man, sending the maps scattering across the street. "Oh, goodness," he said, dropping to his knees to help gather the maps, his eyes brushing over the coordinates for anything that looked like they may be of value. "I'm so sorry-- my deepest apologies, good sir, let me-- here--"
He gathered the scattered papers, unevenly attempting to neaten them and slipping a seemingly significant one up his own sleeve, a trick he had learned ages ago from his own grandfather. He handed the stack back to Edmund and offered a smile. "Ah, again, I'm so terribly sorry. Clearly I must have been mistaken."
