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 Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:39 pm
┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ page uno contents┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
+ My Home-Coming / SOLO
+ My Masterpiece / SOLO
+ My Park Castle / PRP
+ My Song That Never Ends / SOLO
+ My Great White Fear / PRP
+ My Dinopirateer / ORP
+ My Can-Do Injury / SOLO
+ My Decoration Fascination / PRP
+ My Secret Santa / SOLO
+ My Christmas Party / ORP
+ My ??? / SOLO
+ My Horse With No Name / PRP
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:41 pm
» my home-coming ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
Grace Fall's Residence,
Monday, November 24th, 2008
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
It was a modern house. A large, square, multi-levelled house with a faded notice of sale in the front window. There were two entrances, one covered in vines, the other littered with fallen rose petals. They were exactly alike -- two large oak doors, one perched beside small pillars of black stone that descended sideways into the brick pavement of the street. The front door was left slightly askew, but no steps lead to the entrance -- in fact, the only sign of life was a finely spun spider web hanging centimeters above the door frame. Grace approached the door with an ungraceful grunt, shrugging the squirming child in her arms to one side as she fumbled for her keys. Unlocking the door with minimal difficulty, she placed the small boy on the floor and threw the keys onto the kitchen bench. Lucien looked around curiously, taking in the new environment with what seemed to be very careful observation.
"Well, this is it kid," Grace said suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Home."
Lucien looked up with a smile and made a strange, waving gesture. "Home?" he repeated.
"What are you, a broken record?" there was a pause before she turned around, intending to surf the fridge (what do you feed toddlers, anyway?), but suddenly found herself lurching forward as something hit her from behind. Before she could open her mouth to yell at whatever the hell had decided to hit her, she felt the gentle pressure of two very small arms wrapping around her waist. Less panicked she turned her body around -- slow enough as to not remove Lucien's arms -- and allowed the boy to hug her middle.
This was going to be strange.
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:42 pm
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:43 pm
» my park castle
Lucien, Marion and Kyle.┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:45 pm
» my song that never ends ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
Grace Fall's Residence,
Friday, November 28th, 2008
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
Usually when Grace came home she would dump her groceries down on the kitchen table, disengage her bra, throw it at the wall and fall into her sofa. It was a routine; a wonderful routine that she imagined would follow on until her body collapsed in on itself. Today, however, Grace sat at the kitchen bench rubbing at her temples; Lucien, some kid she had somehow wound up with after what was undoubtedly a night of very, very heavy drinking was jumping up and down on the couch with his arms outstretched singing the Song That Never Ends -- and singing it obnoxiously loud. The small boy had taken to singing the song at every possible moment and it was justifiably beginning to grate against Grace's last nerve. She had never been maternal, and while she wasn't a bad mother, she wasn't a particularly good one either -- and as the kid continued to sing that goddamn song she was beginning to think on the punishments for grabbing the boy by his shoulders and hurling him through the window.
This is the song that never ends..
Grace tightened her grip on the coffee mug in her hands. It wasn't that bad, really. He could be playing drummer with the pots and pans, setting fire to the curtains, eating glue or painting on the walls again. It wasn't that bad. Breathe in, and out, and in, and out.
Yes it goes on and on my friends..
In and out and in and outandinandout.
"Some people started singing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that never ends, yes it goes on and on," Lucien froze, his eyes widening as Grace hurtled towards the couch and dragged him down with her. Shocked and bewildered, Lucien opened his mouth to yell or scream or cry when he all of a sudden felt a firm jabbing in his sides. Entirely red faced and yowling, Grace dug and wiggled her fingers into his sides with disquieting accuracy, thoroughly enjoying his shrieks of laughter. She had yet to discover that maternal feeling that could easily equate to affection or possibly even love, because honestly she just wanted her routine back, but this was sort of nice. Certifiably insane, but nonetheless satisfied by her alternative (and legal) method of stopping the boy stubborn warbling, Grace paused and leaned forward, forming a cage with her arms.
"Are you going to continue singing?" she asked, shaking a threatening finger.
"N--No," he replied, breathing heavily.
Grace leant back, allowing the boy space to wiggle out from underneath her arms. Usually the boy would find sitting beside Grace terribly boring and would start fussing loudly, but instead he curled up on her lap and watched her sideways, a thumb in his mouth and a hand on her stomach. With an exhausted, half-lidded sigh, Grace very tentatively pulled the boy in her arms; and, if she were truly honest with herself, she supposed this felt pleasant. Well, pleasant enough, at least.
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:48 pm
» my great white fear ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓» Under the Sea.
Lucien and Neflheim.┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:51 pm
» my dinopirateer ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓» Kitchen Wizards.Open roleplay.┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:52 pm
» my can-do injury ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
Grace Fall's Residence,
Sunday, November 31st, 2008
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
"I'm hungry."
Grace folded a pair of jeans against her knee, her eyes moving to the long abandoned pile of clothing heaped carelessly on the floor. Shirts, jeans, shorts, sweaters and heaven forbid, skirts all settled haphazardly on top of each other and possibly molding from the leak she had belatedly patched just days before after coming home to a puddle for carpet. Scrubbing a hand against her face, Grace reached forward and began folding a grey shirt, flicking it out and scrunching her nose at the smell of downy fungi. Just outside of the door Lucien rocked back and forth on his heels, all wide-eyed and hopeful.
"Can you make me something?"
Grace frowned, realizing that the kid had very little clothes to work with. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just hadn't crossed her mind that he'd need clothes. She was still struggling with the concept of being a mother, let alone acting like one. Making a mental note to take him shopping, or rather shop for him while he chased, climbed, knocked over, jumped on, played with and hid under everything in view, Grace placed the shirt on top of the growing pile of organized clothing and began working the creases out of her cargo pants.
"Can you make me a sandwich?"
Grace pinched the bridge of her nose and made a noise similar to that of a disgruntled hedgehog. Placing the still very creased cargo pants across her arm she turned to face Lucien, one hand still lightly squeezing the bridge of her nose, the other supporting her body as she leant against the wall. "Kid, I know you're hungry, but I rea-hea-heally need to finish folding and perhaps even disposing of these. I'll make your lunch when I'm finished, okay? Just give me a couple of --"
"I can make it --"
"Noo-hoo you can't," Grace interrupted, pulling the cargo pants from her arm and ignoring what was undoubtedly a tangible pout from Lucien. When did he suddenly grow a pair and think he can start doing things on his own, anyway? He could barely count to twenty.
"Why not?"
"Because junior," she sighed, folding the pants against her chest. "You're too young. You can't even hold a paintbrush without stabbing yourself in the face, let alone a knife, and need I really remind you just how clumsy you are? So no, you cannot make it yourself without me having to haul your a** to the hospital. Now, either stand behind me quietly while I do what needs to be done in here or go and play until I'm finished." Lucien made a small noise in the back of his throat but otherwise said nothing, his shoulders slumping as he moved from the room. Well that wasn't fair at all, he was really hungry. Not a smidge, not a little, not even a bit but really, really hungry. Pausing in his meandering, Lucien shifted his head to the side; maybe he could make sandwiches for the both of them? Sure, okay, it was risky after being told not to but maybe Grace would be so enthralled that he had made sandwiches for them, and all by himself that she wouldn't mind.
Lucien tip-toed his way into the kitchen and, after careful observation, was faced with two equally hindering dilemmas; one, the peanut butter was in the cupboard above the pantry and two, the knives for spreading the peanut butter were at the back of the sink. Lucien frowned a slightly perturbed frown, realizing that he obviously needed something to stand on. He considered grabbing one of the many chairs from the dining room but shook his head instantaneously -- they were far too big and Grace would most definitely hear the scraping if he dragged it across the tiles. He could attempt to climb, but his strength was mediocre at best and the bench was high. Lost in thought, Lucien's gaze fell upon the cupboards against the floor and, eyes widening, he grinned -- he could so easily create stairs by pulling out the drawers a small way, each more than the first. Smiling smugly at his genius Lucien bounded forward, pulling the drawers out one by one as quietly as he possibly could. Realizing that his time was limited, he quickly began climbing the unsteady blocks with uncanny balance, his toes curling around the edge of each drawer until pulling himself onto the bench. The boy cautiously toed the surface before making his way across the bench and, still wearing a smug smile, pulled open the cupboard -- and it was then that two things happened simultaneously; Lucien took a step back, his foot pressing against air and Lucien fell, his body hitting the tiles with a sickening thud.
Grace looked up from her unfinished folding as a loud crash followed by a piercing cry sent her heart into her throat. Quickly abandoning her recreation of the leaning tower of Pisa, and kicking it over in the process, Grace ran from the bedroom, her head jerking from side to side to view every room she passed before skidding to a sudden halt at the base of the kitchen. Grasping the door-frame for balance, Grace was greeted by a small boy crouched on his knees and clutching his wrist. Surveying the room with a once-over and quickly becoming aware of what had happened, Grace knelt beside Lucien with a tight ********, let me see," she said firmly, extending her hand to grab his wrist. Lucien jerked away and turned his back, his body trembling with gurgled cries. Grace placed her hands against his shoulders and pulled him back around to face her, her mouth thinning. "It's okay, I'm not angry --" like ******** she wasn't, "-- but I need to see your wrist or it's just going to keep hurting. I can't help you if you don't show me, Lucien."
Lucien looked up slowly, his face wet and his mouth forming a downward arch as he extended his wounded arm. Grace cradled the wrist gingerly, every so often giving it a soft squeeze or a gentle prod. Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding she released his arm and stood, crossing her arms over her chest. Lucien followed, holding his wrist to his stomach and staring at his feet, eyes half closed and expectant. It wasn't until Grace coughed that he looked up, his face pulled into a panicked grimace.
"Christ," she began waspishly, dropping her arms. "I told you, Lucien. I told you that you can't just go making food for yourself -- you're too young, you're too ******** small. Do you see what happens when you don't listen to me? You could have seriously hurt yourself, you could have broken your ******** wrist, you could have hit your head and given yourself brain damage and-- for Gods sake, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Grace stared at Lucien pointedly, her hands trembling and her mouth pulled into the snarl resemblant of a pissed-off Alsatian. Lucien swiped at the wetness of his cheeks, looking back to his feet and generally looking like a puppy that had just been kicked in the face.
"I --"
"You what?"
"I just wanted us to eat lunch together." Lucien wiped at his face again, his shoulders trembling as he made to walk or possibly even run from the room; however, Grace leant against the door, stopping him. Her expression was hard and her arms were still crossed against her chest, but she looked less threatening -- at least she looked as if she trying to look less threatening. They stood in silence, Lucien staring at his feet, Grace staring at Lucien staring at his feet until suddenly she crouched down to his height, her thumbs scrubbing gently at his tears. She raised his head with a finger under his chin, watching him evenly before pulling him forward.
"Look kid," she mumbled into his hair, closing her eyes. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I was just angry because I was -- God, because I was scared. What if you had really hurt yourself, what would I have done? Look, you have to listen to me, Lucien, you just have to listen or things -- things like this happen because here's the real skinny; bad things happen and most of the time people just aren't that lucky. I'm not that lucky." She leant back, her arms curling around his waist and found herself relieved to see that he was almost smiling. He was still crying, but the smile was there. The boy didn't respond, just nodded and leant his head against her chest, sniffling and mumbling incoherently. Grace ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and closing her eyes.
Well ********, maybe she could do this mothering thing.
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:54 pm
» my decoration fascination ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓» Deck the Halls.Lucien, Carlisle, Ginger, Joshua and Zemel.┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2008 8:54 pm
» my secret santa ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
Grace Fall's Residence,
Tuesday, December 11th, 2008
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ Lucien sat there looking, rather seriously, at the alarm clock placed neatly a top his bedside table. He had leant his back against the window frame, his feet pressing uncomfortably against his side as he mentally went over the information Grace had relayed about his secret santa. Zemel -- his victim and newest friend via Joshua -- apparently enjoyed bunnies, cooking with his mother and collecting plush animals and sea monkeys. A boy of his own heart. Thoroughly amused, Lucien tilted his head to the side and began picturing the perfect gift in his mind. ~ ~ ~ Lucien had his arms extended and was grinning unabashfully, deliriously; in his hands was a small brown primate, its fingers and toes connected by a thin transparent sheet of skin and its neck adorned with gills. Zemel, who had been standing anxiously in front of him, took the creature in his arms, his mouth changing from a soft "o" to a curious grin. The monkey made a soft gurgling noise that resembled a coo, causing Zemel to look up at Lucien in confusion and awe.
"It's a real sea monkey," Lucien grinned, gesturing to its feet and gills. Zemel laughed as the monkey began plucking happily at his hair before returning his gaze to Lucien.
"It's perfect!" He cried, hugging it once more against his chest.~ ~ ~ "I'd call him George," Lucien mumbled absently before blinking and pulling himself up from the window sill. It was obvious that he would have to buy Zemel a hat for cooking, he'd inquire as to what they were called later, but he needed to add something that was, well, him. Something handmade, something personal. Lucien turned to look thoughtfully out the window, the cogs in his brain chugging away sluggishly -- maybe he could make him a soft toy? He obviously liked them, and he did collect them, but of what? He couldn't make him a Giraffe, for as nice as it was to have matching toys Lucien didn't want to share Charlie with anyone. Shaking his head, he safely assumed that Zemel probably had most animals in plush form, what with the whole, you know, collecting them thing and all. He stared out sightlessly, unaware to the gentle twitter of birds singing in the distance and the rumble of distance thunder. He ran two slightly chubby hands over his face and considered throwing in his towel for the night when a sudden idea struck him. Gingerbread. Upon being introduced to the twins Zemel and Ginger, Lucien had been instantaneously and very, very strongly reminded of Gingerbread. Not only was it perhaps the perfect idea anyone could have ever thought of in history, ever, it was centered around the Christmas theme too. With a crooked, very-proud-with-himself smile, Lucien sprinted from his room and bounded down the stairs, the steady thump, thump, thump of his feet jerking Grace from her doze. Lifting her head from her outstretched palm (and surreptitiously wiping a line of drool against her sleeve), Grace eyed Lucien warily. "We -- we have to go shopping," he announced with a huff, taking a deep breath. "I know what I wanna get Zemel, you know, my secret santa. Um, okay, first we need to go to a cooking place and get him a hat for cooking with his mommy, um," Lucien frowned a frown one might see during constipation and looked to Grace for assistance. "A chef hat," Grace mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. "Yeah! Yeah, yeah! That, and then we have to go to an art shop and get arty stuff like fabric and butt'ns and string and -- and some glue and some sticky tape and I don't know what else but anything that we can make a Ginge'bread toy with. Zemel collects plushes and he kind of looks like Ginge'bread and I think it would be really, really awesome. So can we go?" He paused, his mouth still hanging open. "Can we go now?" Lucien's breath was erratic and sharp, a consequence of not breathing, but his gaze remained nonetheless hopeful making it hard for Grace to say no -- she still did, but it was hard. "No, Lucien, we can't go now," she said, rubbing a crust of sleep from her eye. "I might let you go tomorrow, but if and only if you beha --" Her words were cut off by an ear-splitting shriek of yay and the thumping of a boy running excitedly up the stairs. Grace leant back against the sofa with a sigh and propped her head back on her palm. Maybe she'd get longer than fifteen minutes this time. It was unlikely, but maybe God would recognize how much she was trying here. Maybe.
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 12:07 pm
» my christmas party ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓» Welcome to the Party.Open roleplay.┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ 
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 12:08 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 12:10 pm
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Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 7:50 am
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Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 7:52 am
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