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Pixie Krysta Ordreg Vice Captain
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 Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2008 9:46 pm
The tickling to Tinania's stomach actually made her giggle much like a child. Covering her bare skin, she attempts to act serious before she wrinkles up her nose "Alright, care to show me where a said shirt is? That way your Uncle isn't trying to get the rest of my clothes off of me?" turning away from Dari, she moves back towards Tourma.
Wrapping an arm around her friends waist, she leans in towards her ear "He not half bad, kind of cute. now if he only lay off the act." placing her hands behind her back, she looks back towards Dari, then back at Toura with a smile on her face.
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2008 9:57 pm
Tourma looked between the two of them with a twitch of an eyebrow, but finally dissolved into laughter between the other girl's giggling and Dari's show and dance. Clutching her full stomach, she motioned towards the door to the house in the garage. "Unfortunately," Tourma whispered back, "He has quite a talent with that tail of his. Quite a troublemaker..." She ignored the 'act' comment for now.
Dari was an... Interesting relative.
There was a slight frown on her lips, but she soon turned and waved at the goon, who had taken the shirt off in favor of using it as a doo-rag on his head. He appeared inquisitive but confident.
She didn't expect any less from him.
"This way," the Skullmonkey announced, leading Tinania to her room to root for clothing.
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Pixie Krysta Ordreg Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2008 5:13 pm
Tinania follows Tourma, remaining quiet for now. Her eyes looking over the home as they make their way towards Tourma's room. She found herself actually liking the place, as it was rather homey to her. Not much like her place where it still was packed from her latest move.
Looking back at Tourma, she smiles before she hums to herself for a moment.
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Posted: Sun Oct 05, 2008 9:13 pm
She found herself moving to the motion of the song that Nani was humming, or whatever musical construction it may be. Pushing the door open to her room, the teenager motioned in Nani. "You'll have to be careful with him, he's a good guy, but there's a lot of layers to get to that." Pausing as she stepped over a pile of broken electronics to her closet, she shrugged her shoulders and offered her a crude smile. "The problem is that most of those layers aren't exactly ...nice."
With a twist of her wrist, she opened her closet and backed away so that Tinania could pick something out. While it was organized by color and general style, the whole of it looked to be an explosion of rainbows all fighting to get out of the bonds which held them. "I don't think my style matches yours, but I'm sure all else fails we can find you a solid color t-shirt. I layer a lot."
The last statement was somewhat of an explanation as she peered over to gauge her new friend's reaction.
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Posted: Fri Oct 10, 2008 12:47 pm
[Reserved for the rest of the RP with Nani]
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Posted: Fri Oct 10, 2008 12:55 pm
 The Road to Recovery: Part I
The hit dazed her and she stumbled backwards, but before she teetered over, a pair of hands caught her by the upper arms. It was then that she realized who had been blocking her way, and her paranoia doubled into rage. “Out of my way Dari,” she snarled.
“You’re not throwing that food up.” He said simply.
She threw him a incredulous look and attempted to shrug out of his grip and failing, “For your information, I need to take a piss… Let me go.”
He smiled, keeping a firm grip on his niece. “You’re lying.”
“I’ll do it right here,” she said quickly, her eyes darting behind him towards the toilet, then the bathtub, and then the sink. All she needed was one of them, and soon.
His eyebrow simply raised as he remained rooted in her way, “That’d be messy.”
Shaking in anger, she felt positively ill from eating so much, and Tourma knew that she wouldn’t be able to win in a physical fight to get to the bathroom. Plus, clearly he already ******** you,” she spat before suddenly thrusting her fingers down her throat.
With speed that he rarely displayed, the Jivvin caught her wrist before it could do the desired damage and then grabbed the other one for good measure.
Weakly, she fought against his hold for a few moments before she became too tired to do so and simply slumped in physical defeat. “I have to… Dari please… I feel so sick… Please…”
Dari simply pulled her against him in a hug, sighing in relief when she automatically buried her head in his chest. “You’ll feel better,” he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, “I promise.” He continued to reply softly to her whimpers as he bent down to scoop her up and carry her into her room.
Shutting the door behind him with a foot, he carefully sat down on the bed while hugging the teen to him. “You can’t do this to yourself anymore Tourma,” he said finally once she had calmed down.
Her response was to simply bury herself further into his chest.
With a sigh, he leaned back and reached under her chin to bring her wavering gaze to his serious one. “You’re killing yourself,” he continued, fully intent on having this conversation with her. “Why?”
Her gaze fell to avoid his disappointed eyes, but he lightly pulled them back up to his. Tourmaline suddenly understood why so many women seemed to fall at her uncle, with the intensity he was baring upon her. She knew that it could easily be applied to other means and methods. “I want to dance,” she whispered, voice catching as she attempted to keep herself from crying once more.
He frowned somewhat. “You can dance without starving yourself.”
The Skullmonkey shook her head. “My partners can’t lift me because I’m a whale.”
Dari’s laugh startled her, and she gaped up at him wide eyed for a moment before realizing this and snapping her mouth shut. “Tourma, you’ve always been fit, and clearly your partners have all been p***y humans because I can lift you just fine.” He gave her a stern look. “And I most definitely cannot lift a whale. Thus, you are not a whale.”
Fighting not to laugh at his lame joke, she sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t understand—“
“Bollocks,” he interrupted. “Your instructors probably were idiots and told you to lose weight because your partners couldn’t lift you. And you did it in the most unsafe way possible. Against your common sense and upbringing of parents that understand your genetics, you decided that it’d be possible to become a ‘normal’ weight by starving yourself. Guess what? You can’t. You can never weigh what a normal human your age and height would because your metal isn’t going anywhere and that’s what makes you beast the scales. You know yourself that metal can’t go anywhere, so stop lying to yourself and throwing your health in the garbage.”
It was silent for a moment before she murmured a quiet, “Oh.”
When he was certain that she didn’t have a further response, he ruffed her disheveled hair even more. “Have a rest, and just remember that we all love you dearly. …Especially when you’re not auditioning for the part of our local broomstick.”
Scowling and opening her mouth to retort, Tourmaline gave him an odd look before yawning loudly. Suddenly it felt like she hadn’t slept in years, and for once, the teen halted her protests against Dari and nodded.
“That’s a girl.” He pulled her carefully into his lap before pulling the covers back and tucking her in. Once she was sound asleep did he step out of her room and shut the door. Mission One accomplished.
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Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2008 7:49 pm
The Road to Recovery: Part II “What’d you do to her?” Slush demanded the moment Dari had shut the door to her room, a mixed look of awe and anger riddled on his features.
Dari rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I just gave her a Benadryl in her food.”
“You drugged my daughter?!” He cried out, jaw dropping and eyes widening.
Unsurprisingly Dari remained calmer than Slush, and motioned him downstairs while explaining. “It’s just an allergy medicine that made her drowsy. You and I both know she needs to sleep AND more importantly, she needed to eat.” He gave the Skullmonkey a pointed look before ushering him down the stairs.
Slush offered his best glare to his brother before sighing and slumping his way down the stairs into the kitchen. “Can you believe how skinny she is?”
The Jivvin frowned and shook his head, “X told me to stay and help out however necessary.”
“Isto won’t like the idea of you staying, and to be honest, I’m not so sure this is a good idea.” He crossed his arms over his chest as if to make himself out to be tougher.
Dari simply raised his eyebrows at Slush, causing him to huff but drop the tough guy act.
“Look, I know you have her best interests at heart… And so do we, but you do have a track record of well…”
“Being a whore?” Dari finished simply.
Slush bobbed his head slightly in a considering motion before full out nodding. “Pretty much.”
“I’m not saying I’m changed,” the Jivvin replied, staring down at his ‘brother’. “But I did learn that family isn’t as disposable as I had previously thought.” A shoulder shrug attempted to make light of his seriousness, but his eyes gave him away.
Tail swishing behind him, Slush considered the man in front of him for quite some time before sighing and nodding. “I’ll see about talking to Isto. No promises.” He raised both eyebrows to accentuate his point before disappearing downstairs to the kitchen.
A large woosh of relieved air left Dari as he rubbed his face to combat the growing headache. Phase One complete.
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Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2008 7:51 pm
Journal The INTERVENTION: Or whatever else my family and friends have been calling this take over of my life. I feel like I'm in a prison or a mental institution, only I get to have all my clothes and the food (I would assume) is probably of a higher quality. Here are the rules/guidelines that they have stuffed onto me: 1. I have to eat what they tell me when they tell me. 2. All food must run it's natural course after consumption. (That's a nice way of saying, don't throw it up daughter dearest.) 3. I am banned from going to any dance studio, and watching anything that has 'unhealthily skinny' women in it. (Slush must think that Center Stage started all of this.) 4. I must be supervised, especially during designated feeding times. 5. I have to meet with a therapist 3 times a week. The frequency can be adjusted as they see fit. 6. I have to meet with a nutritionist 3 times a week. Again, the frequency can be adjusted as they see fit. 7. Things such as laxatives, diet pills, etc. are not allowed in the house. (This one weirded me out, as I never really cheat like this anyways.) 8. Rules can be adjusted as needed. (In case I come up with a loophole.) There have been threats to send me to the local "Recovery Resort" if I don't comply. Apparently they aren't as nice about things as my family is being, or so they say. Deep down I know that this is in my best interests, and I understand where everyone is coming from. But I still don't know if I want it. I still can't believe that something I loved so much launched me into such a state that I'm in now. My therapist says I need to stop thinking what could have been, and focus on me now. I'm finding it very difficult to give up on dreams that I've had since as far as I can remember. I wish I didn't have to think so hard to function like I used to, back when I apparently was 'still healthy'. Time for a force feeding. -Tourma
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Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2008 10:36 pm
The Road to Recovery: Part III It was an exceptionally warm day for this time of year, a straggler in the migration it seemed, and as any teenager without a scheduled job or school would do, Tourmaline found herself at the beach in Gambino. This venture had been forced upon her, and per the new rules, she wasn’t alone.
“Where do you want the umbrella?” Bing asked cheerfully, attempting to make the best out of the circumstances behind their visit.
Tourma shrugged apathetically and stared off at a couple of surfers in the water. Today, her clothing choices matched her mood. Fewer colors were displayed, and it seemed as if they were duller than usual. Granted, only those who knew her noticed this change. Bing just happened to be one of them.
A dark tail suddenly smashed into the back of the teen’s head, causing her to turn and glare at Bing, who wore a bright grin. “The umbrella?” He reminded, shaking it at her.
With a grumbled insult, the teenager motioned to the side of her. “Where ever you think is best.”
While she loved Bing to death and counted him as one of the few friends she had, Tourmaline loathed the idea of having a chaperone. After a family meeting, or as they called it ‘intervention,’ several days ago, a set of rules had been implemented onto her to make her heavier.
Not that it mattered if she lost weight anymore, as her ballet training had been cut off entirely. Not only could she not take classes anymore, but she couldn’t even set foot in a dance studio. This meant her teaching as well as her career in the dance business was over. Done. Finished.
However, her overseers had decided to allow dancing at clubs, but only as long as a chaperone came along. That brought them to decide that she was never to really be left alone until they deemed her healthy again. To her, this whole business seemed more like house arrest than parenting, but with all her friends in on the plan, Tourma had no other choice.
“You meet with the nutritionist tomorrow right?” The question sliced through the silence between them with the delicacy of a chainsaw. Tourma’s head snapped in his direction to find him comfortably lounging on a towel next to her. His shirt had been shed and converted into a makeshift pillow for now.
Turning her attention back to the ocean, she dug her toes further into the sun warmed sand as she thought about the appointment with a frown. “Yes.” She said simply, jaw set stubbornly. Inwardly, Tourmaline felt bad for the nutritionist. Whoever it was would simply be doing their job, but she still despised the idea of someone else controlling her diet. That was her job.
This, apparently, had been one of the chief reasons they had made seeing a nutritionist a requirement.
The older Skullmonkey studied her for a moment behind his own sunglasses. “You really miss dancing don’t you? After everything it’s taken away from you, it’s still tearing your heart apart.” His question hit her hard and her shoulders tensed before quivering as she wrapped her arms around her waist.
“How could something I love with my heart and soul,” her voice broke and she looked up towards the sky to blink back tears, “Destroy me? Was I weak?”
Her pain made his own heart ache and he didn’t know whether to move over to comfort her or not. He ached to hold her, but he didn’t want to add anymore complication to the situation. With her already hanging on a thread, the delicate balance to recovery had to be maintained. Period.
“You’re not weak, and it didn’t destroy you… Losing a fight is not destruction. You just need to get back on your feet.” He paused, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. “You need to be healthy again. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
Her nod of agreement was better than he expected, and he released her hand and dragged the picnic basket.
“Baby steps,” Bing stated when she opened her mouth to protest, and he beamed when she offered a timid smile and reached in to help unpack their lunch. This was only a shuffle step, but it was movement in the right direction.
And she had to take whatever she could grab to get there.
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Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2009 8:06 pm
[Reserved: Backdated road to recovery 4]
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Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2009 8:33 pm
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2009 11:03 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2009 11:06 am
[Journal: The move, etc.]
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2009 11:15 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2009 11:15 am
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