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Emelyn

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 4:46 pm


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Quote:

heart Temporary 1st Post:: For the Art Contest. heart


For anyone who has come to find info about Em for the purpose of drawing her for the art contest: blaugh heart Squee! I'm super excited, and extremely honored that you've decided to sketch the hedgegal. <333 I'll keep it brief, and try to be helpful for you.

Good Refs of (Completed TF) Em:

+RandomWaltz: RandomWaltz's image is a great ref for Em's more recent bodytype (she's filled in a little since coming in from the wild), her coloring, and a GREAT ref for the spines! Obviously they don't have to ever be that detailed, but wow, what a showing. ^_^
+EvionVixen" EvionVixen is another one that does a great job with Em. This is a faded/memory sort of image, so don't use the coloring scheme ^_^, but the anatomy is great.

+For Ref's of Em's other stages, her traditional stage art is great, or you can check the "Art Wealth" link to the gallery I have of Em art in the next post.

Em's Personality:

+Kind, good, fair, overly emotional, stubborn, prone to melancholy, overanalytical, funny, genuine, and nostalgic. ((In the thread, in 'playtime OOC mode', she's also manhungry and bossy. X3 For evidence of this, see any of the Antigra sketches in the gallery. *snerk*))

Basic Look of Her:

Her spines go down to about her hips- they're not on her legs or arms. Her color scheme is more brown than anything else- and the brown in her spines outweighs the white slightly. She usually wears shorts or a wrap-like skirt, and a bikini top, because it's easier to feed through the spines than a regular shirt. She's been looking for ways to wear 'older' clothing, though- so she's been trying to design more regular wear that would work.
She doesn't have earring holes- they closed up on her second change.
Her eyes are blue-grey. She still has the dark coloring of her eyebrows.

What Em's been Up to on the Island:

+*deep breath* Okay, Em was one of the first ones to come to the island- OOC I won her in the first flatsale (whee, go me... :3) and her boat the Wilhemina sunk near the island due to a horrid storm that also shipwrecked Sean Carrol, aka The Dude. She was in the boat in the first place because it had been left to her sister Mizzie and her by their grandfather two years before when he'd died. Then Mizzie died the next year of cancer, and Em found herself regretting that they'd never taken a trip on it while she was alive.
Sabin found her on the beach monitoring cameras, and took her to the labs where she was injected with a random serum chosen by Aubrey. (Possibly due to the spiky/uncontrollable nature of Em's bangs, which reminded Aubrey of a hedgehog- but hey, who knows. ^^) Then she spent some weeks on the island, talking with the others, and wondering when she'd get off the island, or meet "Moreau" the one who owned the place. During this time she became friends with several- and started to develop a crush of sorts for Sean.
She was called to meet Moreau one night in October, and had dinner in the mansion- only to watch a tape of Ambrose transforming, and to be told by Moreau what he was doing: and asked... to undergo the experiment willingly. She refused, until he said that his work would cure cancer. Thinking of her sister... Emelyn relented.
Thus, she slipped into one of her 'states'- where she locks herself in her duplex and writes and doesn't see anyone for days or weeks. Sean finally came to see her, see what was wrong- and she guiltily told him that she'd agreed to the experiments. Then she came the closest to telling him that she cared about him- but he rebuffed her, and she never spoke of it again.
Emelyn had the next injection willingly, going to the labs for the 'procedure'. It would take months for her to completely cast aside Moreau's lies- though they started to wear thin rather quickly. Her talks with Ambrose helped to solidify this- they became close after Sean and Greer- the two people they had been interested in, connected. Ambrose and Emelyn had a ...relationship of leftovers. Leftover interest from Sean and Greer... leftover loss of Angie... and Mizzie. They went to the Halloween party together, and they were good to each other for long talks, transformations, and then one passionate night. Then... Angelina came to the island, and Ambrose came to tell Emelyn goodbye.
...It didn't go very well.
Suffice it to say, Em spiralled down into another one of her melancholy self-isolations. She didn't even come out for Christmas, or to forgive Ambrose even though he tried to still be a friend to her.
Then January came. The lockout. Not only did Emelyn find herself stranded in the jungle with everyone else- but she was wrapped around the one person she really didn't want to meet: Angie. The next few months were terse and horrible, living cold, wet, hungry and miserable in the "Ambrose and Angie" camp. It was then that she let herself realize that Moreau had betrayed her, and had never intended to do anything good for anyone. So when the lockout ended, and everyone finally started going back to their homes- Emelyn couldn't bear to traipse back into the village like everyone else- like some sort of wet, beaten dog.
So she stayed. She lived in a cave high on the mountain, and sustained herself on the wild. It was a freeing thing for a while- the first few months refreshed her and gave her purpose. It might have stayed that way, except she was attacked by Jamal, making her paranoid and frightened. She carried a makeshift knife with her everywhere, afterwards.
She was the one to find Aubrey after Zach had attacked her- she woke up frightened and near-feral, but ran to the labs to get help after she'd found Kaveri and Aubrey laying in the bloodied clearing. This threw her into another melancholy- and she stayed away from everyone for the next two weeks. When Aubrey was well again, she gave Emelyn a thank you: Reuben, a little lab dog that became her companion.
This lightened Em's life again for quite some time. She had someone to take care of, someone to love her. They were well in the wild for a long time- almost through the summer... until the lonliness finally caught up with Emelyn, and also her overanalytical mind. Enter the grand emotional breakdown. She wanted to go back to the village, but couldn't, because of her choice and her principles. She placed too heavy a weight on what had just been something to save her initially. She might have stayed out there forever- but Joliette attacked her, and Lucas brought her back to the village.
She was delirious and injured for some time- partially due to infection from her injuries, and also because she had a malfunctioning serum. When she transformed, there in Lucas' duplex, she went mad, and started to destroy everything around her- and herself. When she'd nearly chewed through her cheeks, she was transported to the labs where she spent several weeks making a recovery. She emerged weary, but free from the madness.
The months since then have found Emelyn teetering on a delicate edge. The Halloween party- her grand re-entrance into the village... was tainted and soured by the discovery of Sean's death.
She's put the goggles she used to wear on her dresser, not willing to be the child who used to wear them anymore. ...She doesn't feel innocent or childlike- not anymore. She's somewhat manic these days, not knowing what she wants or how to get it- so many emotions are beneath the surface, and she refuses to let them surface, so she coats it with a shiny happiness that is glittering and slick in its falseness. Emelyn White is letting her emotions consume her. I hope she finds some crawl into happiness...

Possible Great Scenes/Images to Draw (What I'd love to see):

+I would LOVE to see an image of Em in one of her melancholy states. She has them so often, damn her. XD Whether it's in her duplex or in the cave.
+Either/or/and: the passionate night between Em+Ambrose, & the FIGHT. >3
+Em and the Dude. ;_; The scene where he comforted her and then rebuffed her. (Bad boy. X3)
+Em and Reuben.
+Emelyn at Moreau's dinner table
+Em in more mature/non bikini+shorts outfits
+Anything at all! <333333




Quote:
Basic Emelyn, Prior to Island

Name: Emelyn Honor White, but everyone calls her Em.
Age: 22, as of Dec 17th, 2006
Hair: Waist-length brown, with just enough white/ash undertones to keep her from being able to dye her hair without her head turning Barney-purple.
Eyes: Blue/grey.
Other Features: Negligible, really. She's pretty in a very plain, understated way, but never goes through the trouble to look like anything fancy. Her hair is usually always messy, and she has very pale skin & a light spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose- the only proof that she's ever seen the sunlight at all.

Occupation: She was a student, and a youth diplomat living overseas- but what she actually wants to do with her life is write.
Family: Other than 'distants' that she doesn't know well- none. She and her sister Mizzie were raised by their grandfather, but Grandpa John died two years ago, and Mizzie just died last year.
Basic Personality: Most people tend to like Em right away, because she's open, pleasant, intelligent, and knows how to read people- so she knows how to react to make them comfortable. She has bouts where she keeps to herself- her biggest 'flaws' are that she has a temper that is quick to flame (but luckily, also quick to cool), and there are times that she can think of herself as superior. (Which is why she wants to be a writer- besides loving it, it's a chance to work only for and by herself- no one to boss her around.) After everything she's been through, she still believes the world is essentially fair, and she never gives up hope.
Skills: (Figured I should outline them now, so it doesn't seem like I'm makin' 'em up out of the blue. ^_^ She speaks English, German, and American Sign Language, and can say the three phrases everyone needs to know to survive in a foreign country in a dozen or so other languages: Hello, How Much, and Where is the Bathroom? ^_~ She is very handy with little, delicate things- she has an eye for the miniature, and can fix things like jewelry clasps or weave a basket out of twigs- but can't fix something like a hinge or a door for the life of her. She writes quite well, and has lived on her own for long enough that she can take care of herself.
Background in Brief (and boxers! ...okay, shutting up now...): Alright, this will be brief, since I'm itching to start my intro rp.... so I'll come back and elaborate later. ^_^ She and her sister Mizzie (11 months younger than her, so they were more like best friends than sisters) were raised from a young age by their Grandpa John, after their parents passed away. She's always been fascinated w/ travel, and by adventure- when she was 11, she idolized Amelia Earhart, and her grandfather arranged for her to have a flight on a remodeled Lockheed, the same sort of plane Amelia flew in- and bought her a pair of old, leather aviators goggles and wool-lined strappers to calm her down. (She may have loved the idea of flight... but the thought of doing it herself scared her. ^_^) The strappers she long since outgrew- but keeps the goggles with her always. It was such an inspiring turning point in her life, that the next year she joined a youth diplomacy group and travelled around the world, going to school wherever she 'landed' and not staying in one place for very long. Mizzie came with her, and joined up mostly because Em was- but after a few years, she tired of it, and went back to live w/ Grandpa John in New England, to live their quiet, happy life of eating out at crab shacks and going out on his boat- the Wilhemina, named for his late wife, their grandmother. (Who they'd never met.) When Em turned 18, she was in Denmark when she recieved the news that Grandpa John had died of a heart attack very suddenly- and she flew back to the states to be with Mizzie, and so they could be together for a while. They weren't surprised that he'd left them everything- but had a good laugh over the fact that he'd split everything equally down the middle- one half to each sister.... but that the boat was in both of their names. (Em never liked boats- and had no desire to ever set foot on it, and laughed when Mizzie said they should take a tour together on it- just the two of them, cramped on the Wilhemina out on the open sea.) She told Mizzie that it was essentially her boat, she could do what she liked with it... and then went back to Europe. It wasn't much longer after that... that Mizzie was diagnosed with cancer, out of the blue. Em flew home- this time to STAY with her sister- but what seemed like a blink-of an eye, year and a half battle... ended in Emelyn being completely alone. ...She was devastated- nothing had ever prepared her for something like this- not even the death of her grandfather, even if that had been difficult, as well. Losing the person closest to her in the world... was the blackest moment of her life. After a long time of deep mourning, Em decided to take the Wilhemina out on a tour- it was what Mizzie had wanted, and being someone who loves symbolism, being alone for weeks upon weeks on the water seemed very appropriate to her. So she set out to find- something.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 4:47 pm


Gifts and Art! WHEE!


::I am no artist- I write, as you might have noticed from the mass of words on this journal... but other than that, I have always relied on the kidness of strangers... (getting a little Streetcar here... ^_~)... or friends, rather, to spice up the life of the journal. So here is where I shall tearfully and proudly display those measures of affection brought to me by others. (Squee!)

Quote:
NOTE:: We're going to be doing things a little differently, now, especially since over the past year I have received over 60 separate images of the lovely Ms. White... that it would no longer be conducive to my previous gush-on-each-one format.

So I have compiled the images I have collected in a gallery that you can peruse at your leisure. Also, as a special thank you, those folks who I have received art of the faboo Em from. ^__^


Fabulous Art Wealth




::Most Recent Artwork::

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.

+<333333 By the most fantastic RandomWaltz, who slaved over all of my picky little alterations with a grace wholly unknown to anything on this earth. ^_~ It's an image of Emelyn looking into the future, and into the past- saddened but hopefully resolute. In her hands are her grandmother's pearls, and she wears the dress that Aubrey gave her for Christmas. She's moving away from her childhood ways, and her innocence- her goggles have long since been put away. They're cherished, but they remind her too much of what she used to be, and what she can't be again.

::A very, very special thank you to::

+Alatariel Rakamash
+Amy D
+Antigra
+Anya XD!
+[ Astra ]
+Beat Fu
+Bilious
+Birvan
+Bloody_Merry
+Casey_Mae
+Cirisse
+Crowfoot
+Desna
+Emerwyn
+EvionVixen
+Fallen_kitsune_thief
+Froad
+Keppit
+Kimie Kitty
+Kiniro Oniba
+Kitara Kata
+Kreedan Akamatsu
+Miss Gizmo
+Mouselet
+Pandara
+Phtaris
+Rabid Jigglypuff
+Randomwaltz
+Sabin Duvert
+Sailornorthstar
+Satin Regret
+Shaytalis
+Sirenz
+Tiger_Kisa699
+Ves

Emelyn


Emelyn

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 4:52 pm


:::Hedgehog Information:::


+Emelyn is transforming into a hedgehog. Although there are several different varieties of hedgies, the gamut is pretty darn similar. Besides, Em doesn't know which one she's turning into. So it's probably pretty basic. ^_~

: razz hysical Aspects o' Spines::

+Hedgehogs are easily distinguished by their spines/quills, which are hollow hairs made stiff with keratin, and anchored in the back of a hedgehog by a ball-like follicle. Their spines are not poisonous or barbed and, unlike the quills of a porcupine, cannot easily be removed from the animal- in fact, tearing spines from a hedgehog will likely cause it injury. However, spines normally come out when a hedgehog sheds baby spines and replaces them with adult spines around their first year. Under extreme stress or sickness (often both), a hedgehog will lose spines.

::Rollin' in a Ball and other Behaviors::

+A hedgehog is posessed of a gridwork of muscles along their sides and back. These powerful muscles hold up the sometimes up to 7,000 spines which are anchored to it by individual ball-like follicles. When a hedgehog is threatened, they have the ability to pull on these muscles- and, like a drawstring of a purse, the spines are pulled into a criss-cross, nearly impenetrable pattern as they roll into a ball, exposing only spines. (The effectiveness is based on how many spines a hedgehog possesses- so if they've been sick or losing spines, they may be vulnerable to attack.)

::Fooooodage yum yum...::

+Although belonging to insectivore family, hedgehogs are almost omnivorous. Hedgehogs feed on insects, snails, frogs and toads, snakes, bird eggs, carrion, mushrooms, grass roots, berries, melons, and watermelons. In fact, berries constitute a major part of Afghan Hedgehog's diet in early spring after hibernation. The hedgehog is occasionally spotted after a rainstorm foraging for earthworms.

+Hedgies are lactose-intolerant but will eagerly consume cheese, milk, and dairy products, causing illness.

...((Which probably means that as Em transforms more, she'll find that dairy products make her sick, although she still loves them.))


mrgreen ::Other fun stuff that will Likely Influence Em:: mrgreen

+Hedgies are mostly nocturnal. Bright lights can get a little tedious for them, even though they CAN see in the daylight.

+Hedgehog sight isn't any better than human's, their smell & taste is a little more developed.

+Hedgehogs can fall from very high distances when balled up and be unharmed.

+Hedgies have powerful leg muscles, and can actually run quite fast for their size.

+Hedgehogs, though a defensive creature by nature, are also naturally friendly, and can be domesticated quite easily. Some wild hedgies will allow you to pick them up the first time you meet them.



User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.
User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 10:02 pm


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Arrival at the Island


As she was pitched against the deck wall, Emelyn recalled hours before when she'd looked up at the sky and had remarked to herself (out of lack of any other company- decent or otherwise) that the ominous sky would pass. Now, as the sea tossed the little boat once more and she found herself wedged between the trundle bed and her makeshift bookshelf, Emelyn realized that not only was hindsight 20/20... but it also was on a permanent replay, reminding her of her words again and again. It will pass. Oh certainly, it will pass- and did. Right over me, she thought, and only had time to barely get to her feet again before a wave crashed up against the side and she was hurled to the opposite wall. She was the yo-yo of the seas, just an idle little amusement to watch go back and forth for an afternoon when there's nothing better to do. ...Most things came into Em's head as metaphors, or analogies- or at least in the guise of symbolism- and with this new 'toy' theory bouncing around in her mind, she just hoped that she wouldn't be discarded in boredom after it was all over- thrown away or broken by this petulant 'sea child'.

And again against the wall. She didn't dare to go updeck- for really, what was there to the upside of the boat but a shallow railing and just enough room to stretch out on the old lawn chair. It had been her Grandpa John's- more often than not, back 'home', Em would see him out there on the old beat up piece of lawn furniture with a bucket of bait in his lap and a fishing pole between his knees- waving at his granddaughter who was coming up the dock. Well, Em thought, not that the old man would ever be out fishing on the old Wilhemina again- but it was a little sad to think of the nasty old lawnchair floating somewhere in the middle of an unfamiliar sea. For she couldn't imagine the sea having not plucked it off the deck in this storm- not when she could barely get to her feet on a floor that was so diagonal it almost became a third wall. Perhaps the old man would have enjoyed the thought of the old chair off on its own adventure, Em mused- but as if to punish her for waxing sentimental instead of cowering in awe at the marvels of its power, the storm ripped across the Wilhemina and capsized it, filling the cabin with water and threatening to take Em with it.

For once in her life, her mind was blank as she fought her way to what used to be 'up', kicking through the gangdoor and trying to overcome the awesome pressure that had built up underneath it. The sea would have none of it, however, and maintained a force supported by millions upon millions of water molecules that were gripping to the door.

The storm, however, seemed to take pity on the girl- maybe it knew that she'd never been able to hold her breath for more than fifteen seconds at a time (something that had always kept her in the intermediate swim class all her life- even though she'd been able to out-lap everyone in the advanced group since she was 7)... and it cut through a flimsy section of the hull, relieving the pressure and at the same time providing an escape, which Em took- again, free of any thoughts or fears. The shock wore off, however, after she reached the surface and gasped at the moist storm air, and was replaced instead by a whirlwind of emotions- 'thank god I'm alive'... 'crap, now I'm still getting tossed around by a storm, but this time I'm not in a boat'... 'a wave is going to kill me'... 'is that an island in the distance?'...'the storm looks like it's clearing up!'... 'do I still have my goggles on? Thank god for that too...' and finally, she had a twinge of confusion at what she should do about the rapidly sinking boat. Should she try and salvage anything from it before it was too deep? It felt wrong to her, somehow, to watch the Wilhemina become jetsam... but one of the many sayings of the original owner himself floated back into her mind- somewhat gentler than she was floating on the sea, but nonetheless: "Sometimes you just have to realize what's good for you. It's like when you put your money in a vending machine, and the little packet of peanut brittle gets caught on the spokes on its way out, and it's just hanging there, just one more lil' push and it will be free. Now, you really want to shake that machine to get that brittle free. But you really, REALLY want to be able to walk away without a vending machine on your head. So you just have to know when to shake... and when to cut your loss of the peanut brittle."

Sorry Grandma, Em said, whispering into the water to a grandmother she'd never met- but who had been the origin of the boat's name... 'No shaking today.' And she turned and swam towards that only thing in sight- the island that the storm must have brought her directly to, for she certainly hadn't seen it before- or even known that it existed. She hoped, as she was pushed along at triple speed by the troubled waves, that it knew what it was doing, because she was just about to come ashore.

Emelyn


Sabin Duvert
Vice Captain

Winter Trash

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 10:26 pm


It was Sabin's turn for moniter duty. Usually, he had mostly free reign on the Island - access to the restricted labs, overseeing a small group of researchers in the laboratories meant that he usually didn't have to do much "microscope work" himself (as he had mentally began to call it). However, eventually everyone's turn came up to help out the security team oversee the moniters that peppered the entire Island. There were literally hundreds of cameras so surreptiously placed that even most of the native fauna didn't detect the foreign machinery that had been tucked into their supposedly "untouched" environment.

There was a pretty nasty storm brewing over the Island as well, which drew a lot of the idle hands to make sure that everything was secure. The project was in such an initial phase now that things at this point hadn't been completely failsafe tested and the last thing that they needed was a security hole right before the first subjects were reaching their critical stage.

He flipped the remote, skimming from camera to camera, his feet propped lazilly up on the desk before him, and a small tin of little smoked sausages within easy reach.

It was then, just as he was about to hit "next" that he saw the small figure laying on the West-side beach, very close to Camera 293. Getting to his feet quickly and sliding on the flip flops, he placed a hurried call to Moreau before rushing out to the Jeep.

The rain had already started to come down on the Island, and Sabin was drenched before he got in the car. Not that the little jeep provided much shelter from the elements in the first place, but he didn't care to take the time to find a proper covered vehicle. Admittedly, there was the question of security and a stranger on the island that propelled him so quickly, but there was also the matter that Sabin wasn't entirely heartless - and he hadn't seen the figure moving much in the camera.

The jeep bounced down the narrow dirt (now mud) roads, and several times he nearly fishtailed off the road before finally getting out to the beach. Jumping out of the driver's seat, he jogged over to where the woman (he could now see) lay.

He was still wearing rather loud bermuda shirt and pants and flipflops, but with the impending storm, the overall appearance was much less jovial, his white hair plastered to his face.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 10:38 pm


Her head throbbed, her eyes seemed to be welded shut, and in her state, she couldn't be entirely sure where she was, but a quick cough brought a collection of seawater up from her lungs and she heaved it up onto the beach, her body arching inwards automatically as she did so. If she'd had the opportunity, perhaps when she rolled to lay flat on her back on the beach (for she'd remembered where she was) she might have wondered why it was so natural for people to curl inwards at the sign of trouble, or when they desire comfort... but she didn't have the opportunity, for a face loomed down at her, white hair plastered to what she didn't recognize. She jerked to the side and gasped, moving away in the split-seconds of her shock.

Emelyn


Sabin Duvert
Vice Captain

Winter Trash

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 10:43 pm


"Miss..? Miss??" Sabin kneeled by her side, eyes going over her looking for injuries or other complications. Judging by her clothing, she looked American - and therefore was more than likely rather lost.

"Can you hear me?" He spoke carefully - his voice betraying the slightest hint of a French accent. She would need to see the Doctor, and given her likely injured state, that probably wouldn't be a difficult thing to convince her. A flicker of conscience almst reared its head.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 10:46 pm


The sound of the voice calmed her down considerably, and she paused in her furious crab-scrabble across the sand, falling instead back into her prone position. (This time slightly more sore, for the quick, tense movements.) "Oh, thank god you speak English," she said, realizing that her voice was cracking. She didn't even want to guess where she was, or what language this man normally spoke.

Emelyn


Sabin Duvert
Vice Captain

Winter Trash

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 10:52 pm


Sabin nodded and tried to steady her. "Easy - it's alright, I've got you. It looks like you got tossed around pretty badly." He didn't start with the questions yet - it was obvious that she was rather disoriented, and questions would probably only serve to confuse her more.

"There is a practicing doctor on the Island. Why don't I help you to him." It was more a statement than a question. "It looks as if the storm has followed you here, and you probably want to get in out of the weather."
PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 10:56 pm


"No, I think I'm fine- I just inhaled some water..." she protested, but, like as in most situations where health was concerned, Em was wrong- as soon as she tried to make a movement that would prove her to be fully upright-capable... stading, mainly, she careened back from a wave of nausea and dizziness.

"Whoa. Have to work on the... semantics, there." The word was wrong, the writer in her said, and she shut it up from saying anything more by another wave of nausea. "The doctor it is..." she said, covering up her front with crossed arms. (When the man had mentioned about getting out of the weather, she remembered that she was soaking wet... in a white shirt.)

Emelyn


Sabin Duvert
Vice Captain

Winter Trash

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 11:02 pm


Sabin kept the steadying hand on her back, patting her a few times as she stumbled. He gave a small smile at her modesty - his eyes hadn't strayed to the front of her clinging, transparent shirt, although her covering drew his attention to what had been the last thing on his mind beforehand.

"Here, I have a jeep right over there-" He nodded to a parked car with the motor still running about a dozen feet away. "Think you can walk if I give you a shoulder to lean on, or would you like me to carry you there?"
PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 11:10 pm


"I can walk," was Emelyn's immediate answer, coming from her lips faster than the water had moments earlier. It was the last thing on her mind to have this strange man scoop her up and carry her about as if she were a damsel in distress- even if he did have a strange, quite exotic quality about him, and in normal circumstances, perhaps she might have appreciated a little 'sweeping off her feet'... but the thought was cut short by the action of her feet themselves- a single step sent her crashing back down to her knees, wavering under a sense of balance she hadn't yet regained.

"Damsel it is," she said, and then mentally kicked herself- she hadn't said the earlier part out loud. "Carrying, I mean..." she corrected, feeling like a bit of a heel- but a dizzy, disoriented enough heel that being carried seemed worth the embarrassment.

Emelyn


Sabin Duvert
Vice Captain

Winter Trash

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 11:19 pm


Sabin appreaciated her confidence - she apparently was the type who looked out for herself and wasn't used to having to depend on the "kindness of strangers" as it was. He let her try - and fail - under her own volition.

He laughed out loud at her freudian slip, trying to break some of the tension. "It's fine - I don't mind." And with a "princely" grace, he kneeled down and scooped her up, standing again without much apparent effort. He carried her to the jeep, the rain starting to pick up, and placed her in the back seat.

Closing the door, he walked around to the front and hopped in. "IT's just a quick drive up the road. I'll try to keep it smooth as humanly possible" He grinned, as if this was a rather amusing statement, and pulled the car into reverse. It sped its tires in place for a few minutes, as he swore under his breath in a different language before finally the tires caught on something and propelled the jeep out of the wet sand and back to the road.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 11:26 pm


At the sound of the moist sand being crunched and kicked up by the wheels, Em felt her headache spike, and put her fingers up to feel a bump, protruding in what felt like a pulsing knob above her left brow. She didn't remember what it was from- whether it was from the boat-tossing, or something she'd ran into while she'd been propelled by the waves to the shore. It was either its ache that was causing the buzz in her ears... or the fact that she'd just been carried- rescued, if you will, by a handsome man. ...A peculiar man, but all the same- and what was that language he'd muttered? She waited until the buzz subsided enough for her to hear her own voice, and then hoped her dry voice could penetrate the moist air up to the front seat as they barreled up the road.

"German? ...I mean," she corrected, still disoriented, "was that German?"

Emelyn


Sabin Duvert
Vice Captain

Winter Trash

PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 11:32 pm


He looked back over his shoulder at her inquiry - only briefly as he nearly hit something that dashed across the muddy road and had to break rather quickly. "Merde! Eh? Oh, no - it's French" he commented, now somewhat distracted as the rain started coming down in sheets, making it difficult to see the road. At least he didn't have to worry about other vehicles.

She didn't sound good - from her disorientation she most likely had a concussion. Glancing in his rearview mirror he saw her rubbing a bump on her head. Yes, almost definately a concussion. He searched his memory for the little medical classes he had had. Conscious - keep her conscious. "So what were you doing all the way out here?"
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The Duplexes

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