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 Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 11:48 am
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 7:56 pm
Solo 4 - *introspection*
So much, so much had changed since that day at lunch. She was a senshi now.
She was a senshi who was, in some honest growing embarrassed to tell people what she was senshi was, which was odd because she was never bothered to tell them that she enjoyed horror movies, blood spatter or the science of bones and bodes.
Perhaps it would not be -quite- so bothersome were her 'attacks' slightly more than the level of damage associated with a pin p***k. Or did she not need to p***k her finger every time and make people question if she had any 'contaminants' in her blood for them to worry about.
She slouched there by the window of her room and stared out at the tree where she'd first seen Caine, or first seen him in his human form.
She missed him, she half wanted to -talk- to him. Wanted -someone- to talk to the way that Beth talked to her Cat, it must be nice...
She'd have told Beth in honesty, but she had no desire to burden the girl. She already admitted her strange draw to the cat fellow. And that was perhaps unsettling enough.
She glanced towards her room door, speculative.
Her sister too, she'd been so Busy of late, out late with friends, some really fascinating sewing projects but she hadn't even cornered her into modeling lately. She felt so, separated from her family, more than just being adopted, but the reality of the time she was having to spend to keep them and all these strangers safe.
Did it ever get easier? Did it ever feel like there was a 'reward' that she could be sure of? Who knew... who knew. Perhaps Astaria, but she was missing, and there was no way she knew to find her.
She sighed deeply and stared up at the silvery disk of the moon, and wished for purpose.
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Posted: Thu Feb 25, 2010 7:50 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 26, 2010 6:43 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 26, 2010 7:14 pm
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Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 4:12 pm
THIS POINT ON - ETERNAL RP REQ SOLOS!!!
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Posted: Sun Nov 14, 2010 4:41 pm
Strange –
Had things really changed so much in their city, how different it seemed, not the same place at all. It was alien; even the sky seemed like some great blank page promising new and ominous things. ‘Real’ life felt at times as though it were passing her by as she took on the roll of a stranger in a strange land.
She felt at times that she was no longer a part of ‘their world’, the world of her sister, her family. Even if it was an adoptive family it was her own, still precious and dear to her.
She lay out the fabric in front of her and worked on tailoring, she found the humm of the portable sewing machine to be comforting, as was the up and down bob of its needle. Once upon a time she used to imagine that if you were not very careful, that the Machine would take up a mind of its own and lurch towards you to stitch fingers and hand to cloth.
Perhaps it said something about her that she had not let that stop her from learning to feed the fabric to that darting needle to reshape things as she wished they would look. Crafting new fabrics and machine made lace to look like it reached out to brush some by gone century; some more romantic and at the same time bloody and tragic age. She wondered briefly, if there had been Senshi in the Victorian age, what if Jack the Ripper was a very minor appearance of the Negaverse. What a strange and curious thought…how old WERE they? How many times before had Senshi ever appeared on the earth…or had they ever?
Did it matter? It might… if they knew if this fight ever happened before, and what happened to the people whom had fought… after all. What happened to this moon princess she still felt that deep longing to find and to serve?
She shook her head and sighed and switched off the sewing machine so she could lift free the blouse and see how her tailoring looked. She nodded satisfied and moved to the sewing dummy and carefully put it on so she could see if there were any other alterations to make.
She was distracted in her work though; there were things she needed to do with this …second life of hers. She felt more and more the pressing need to prove she could help there, with that the way she did with her real life. She wanted to make a difference. The team meetings were beyond sporadic… Pegasus was a kind and quiet leader but she was clearly busy. Flora had the Zodiacs, Lyra was.. Occupied with her own fights… Nemesis… well. Nemesis was Nemesis, she was glad to hear the other girl was helping train people to fight but at the same time it put her on edge. But what about…her, what was ‘MuCephi’ in all of this?
Answer…
Answer… she had no answer, not yet. But she meant to find one. She would tailor her cloth and make her own answer.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2011 6:56 pm
It was hard to carry him, he was so much taller, and even though she had some advantage to her civilian form for strength, size made all the difference in such matters, nevermind that she was wearing boots that…while beautiful were horridly impractical for walking such great distances. Needless to say that by the time she could –see- his apartment building she could feel each and every step like she had a dwarf following her with a hammer that he was slamming home into the base of her spine and another who was pounding rail road spikes into her heels.
She might have questioned if it were worth it, why she didn’t just put him somewhere… safe. But every time she glanced at his sleeping face she was reminded, there was something sweet there, innocent and untouched that didn’t deserve the questions and the nightmares that waking up somewhere strange would give him. Let him think it was just a bad dream, let him dismiss it as some terrible nightmare and never let it happen again, she prayed, to any god or goddess, named or unnamed who would listen to her at that moment.
It was a struggle to get in, more so to get him inside without either of them being noticed. She would have, if nothing else been called a terrorist, or worse…. He would have been draggled lord knows to what hospital, his family panicked…they might even take him away, and she…selfishly, didn’t want that. She wanted to speak with him again as a young man and a young woman SHOULD meet and talk.
She liked his face, his manners, his accent, and the sweet but shy way he acted around her, it was… romantic in a way even if the appeal might have been lost on other girls her age, she could never tell, because her interests and theres only occasionally touched onto the same grounds.
If he didn’t like her… if he didn’t understand her preference for books, thought it strange she was adopted or…who knew what other thing he might find in what could be called a laundry list of flaws that each and every person carried with them… well, if any of that, then at least she would know that he was safe. She placed him carefully into his bed, removing his shoes and laying a throw lightly over his legs so he wouldn’t be too hot or too cold whenever he woke.
She even paused to find a glass of water and set it beside his bed on a coaster, just in case he was thirsty when he woke… she had never been drained like that, she had no idea how much it would take out of him, only that she wanted to protect him as she had thought, she had stopped wanting to protect anyone. It wasn’t that she had stopped caring, not truly…it was just as though the energy for it had been let to sweep down some unseen ‘drain’ until she heard him playing that day in the park.
Now… now she remembered, she felt reborn and re-energized, she remembered her promises and her drive, everything she had won and lost and it had all led her to this moment, and this moment would lead to everything to come after… it was all that mattered, she was content.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2011 8:51 am
reforged ---
Enough time had passed now that the Police had finally told her family that it was likely that their Daughter…their real daughter, sweet blond who danced so well, was Dead.
The McDougall house hold hadn’t been the same since, it had always been a sunny place, bright and cheerful where even the darker corners of Ume’s room with its clumsy mish-a-mosh of Chinese and Japanese trinkets mingling with her Victorian romantic tastes… seemed warm and inviting.
Now even the yellow and cream painted walls of the Kitchen, the family communal area seemed somehow harsh and sad. The sunlight did little to warm it, and it felt as though people turned away, refusing, and disdaining its warmth and comfort for the cold embrace of grief.
She made some effort to give them hope, but it was hard when there was little left of her own. She had, months ago become sure that her sister would never be seen again, one of the victims who’s bodies would not likely be discovered. Though such killings had become less frequent they still happened, missing person posters old and new still littered the bulletin boards and telephone polls.
She retreated to her room and pulled out her diary, but she didn’t open it, felt nothing that would make her want to write down her feelings, not these days.
She half wanted to go to her sister’s room and look deeper, see what she could find out about the last things she had said or written…. But her Family was of the mindest that it should be ‘preserved’, it was almost scary how revrent they were being of the ‘things’ that had littered a life in an effort to remember that life.
Maybe that was normal… maybe everyone who had a child felt that way, after all… she had been their ‘real’ child, not someone adopted. She wondered too if there was some… resentment to her now… did they feel this was her fault? What if they thought she had somehow made sure of this in order to replace her sister in their lives?
She folded double over her journal, her black hair spilling like a waterfall as she fought to hold back a flood of tears. She would have given so much for her sister to return. Dark and Light, that was the two of them… She was Dark and her sister was Light and that was how it should always have been, never changing never torn apart.
She wished Daniel could have met her, surely they would have gotten along she thought, surely… but they never would. She knew it deep in her heart that her sister would never return and on that same deep level she was sure it was her Fault. She hadn’t saved her… hadn’t looked hard enough or in the right places. This anger, this guilt was now the forge of her will, slowly shaping the metal inside her, forging what remained as the old was burnt away to feed the hot fires. It warmed the metal that was her affection for Danial and her Family… the strength that was her friends and her loved ones and as the days progressed, her will and want to continue grew stronger.
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 4:05 pm
Roses --
Roses… She had never in her life received roses, yet here they were, a dozen perfect blooms in bright velveteen red. Her fingers trembled slightly as she waved them, not quite touching the soft blossoms for fear of bruising the petals.
She had secreted them up to her room to nest the glass vase amid the scraps of her sewing, half cleared away in the more pressing need to carefully set it down before it dropped from trembling hands.
She unfolded the card again to read again, there was something that seemed so familiar about the scrap of writing but she couldn’t plate it, not quite. She knew who she –hoped- they were from, but dare she even start to believe it? Dare she hope… dare she start to believe in love again rather than just the inevitable fight… the violence of the evenings?
She had a sliver of hope to hear Cosmos say that the Nega-agents could be saved, but after Caine vanished… there had been a hole in her heart that she thought might never truly be filled again. Then she heard Daniel playing in the park, such a sweet sound, such a handsome young man… quiet and polite. Well mannered and…chivalrous. There was something about him that made her wish to defend him as well though, she wanted…
She wanted to be bold for him, she wanted to cross the lines she had long ago set for herself, she wanted to… she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to be kissed by him, be infolded in his arms and… she shook her head and gently caressed one of the vibrant green leaves befores she took the card and moved to her small laptop and typed in the words and hit search.
It didn’t take long for it to turn up the song that they were from, it made her heart lift and beat faster to hear it, and she adored the song. Closing her eyes she stood again and kicked off the thick-soled single strap shoes that she had worn that day rather than her more classic Victorian boots and took a small twirl around her room. It had been so long since she danced but she knew the moves by heart. She might not have been perfect, or careful but there was a passion returning to her movements. She lacked the toe shoes to do it true justice but she tottered on the ball of her foot carefully, never quite leaping so she wouldn’t disrupt the house below but twirling and bending as though he were there, were her dance partner here and now.
Her hair tangled and twisted as she spun and danced her heart beating with that high elation that she had lacked for so long. As the song ended she stumbled to a stop as well, clutching the card close to her chest as she caught her breath, her heart fluttering like a caged bird. “Oh… I do hope…is it too much to hope that…”
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 8:01 am
Your roses - my thorns...
He hadn’t run, he hadn’t been scared or screamed or anything else… he’d walked her home. They talked the whole way, their hands brushing nervously against one and other, soft touches that led them to blushing like first time crushes and linking their pinky fingers discretely together. Scandalous she might have once said… once.
She’d been worried, so scared of his reactions, the fear of it still clung to her like cobwebs, the tears though dried on her face still left their traces on her cheeks, the slight crinkle of salt that was well hidden against her pale skin and the fact she wore very little make up when she could avoid it. Blessed be the waterproof mascara that darkened her already dark lashes to khol like grace.
She sat carefully at the vanity mirror in her room and slowly, wincingly undid the twist in her hair, her hair uncoiled slowly and fell in curls past her waist when it was unbound, layered as it was it seemed shorter when she put so much of it up, but what had been pinned so carefully into a twist twisted like black serpents.
What would he ever do if she showed him her world though, HER WORLD. The words still made an ache in her chest, a longing and a fear that sat with fingers entwined and tugged at memories that she would have in the past… could never have been real.
She closed her head and remembered the nodding heads of poppies, a sea of red and the sound of the wells…beating like some timeless heart.
“This is how it starts…” She whispered and reached out to brush her fingers against the mirror, it’s cold surface almost shocking because the bruises, the tear lines and the mature eyes that watched her in turn seemed so surely as though they must belong to another, that they could never have been her own. She was just a young girl… she was not ready to have seen blood and battle. She wasn’t supposed to be crusading through the night to save lives and pray for salvation.
“Daniel” She whispered and her gaze drifted to the little doodle of a black cat that was still tucked into the corner of the mirror frame. Ache… loss… beside it a picture of her sister and she bowed her head and cried softly. To love… surely it could not always mean to ‘loose’… surely, surely there must be hope in it, she had to believe that or she would be broken… useless and empty. She brushed the tears from her eyes and reached to pull a rose from the vase, cradling the soft petals in her hand and grasping the stem so firmly that the thorns bit into her pale flesh. “… More precious a gift… “ She whispered before replacing the rose and standing, stealing herself, prepared to face whatever was to come.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 11:08 am
A lifetime -
How long it had been since that fist day, how long it had been since she first met that… objectionable cat. Opinionated, loud and uninformative… and yet how her life had changed. One day she was just a student, and then… then she was a senshi. She was fighting ‘crime’ in the evening in the name of the Garnet Star, she was senshi of Blood…she fought and killed monsters when she once had only ever read of killings in books. She had seen the bodies of the fallen and the price paid by those left standing.
She moved to stand at the edge of the dock, it might have been the edge of the world. The wind whipped through her hair and knotted her skirt around her legs in long dark and lacy folds. She tipped her chin to the sky and whispered a prayer for all those whom had fallen. It was a wonder that the city hadn’t been stripped bare. How many Sisters, Brothers, daughters and sons, how many had fallen, how many would never wake? She opened her eyes to gaze up at the moon, it hung full and silver in the sky. She swore an oath to the Daughter’s daughter… she still felt right for having done so on some level that she couldn’t explain.
But Sailor Moon herself, which… whispered prayer that seemed to haunt her dreams still, haunting melodies and half remembered desires. How much blood would they spill, their own and others before she might re-appear. Was she even still alive? They had seen a man who called himself her Lady’s father… but she could never have followed him. He made her feel sick… what he had done to Chronos…true the Zodiac’s seemed an utterly, self-contained team who distanced themselves from the other senshi but they never deserved that. No one deserved that… not to be fed to the wolves…
They saw the past, they hoped for the future but it always seemed to slip through their fingers like fine grains of sand. Haunting and distant, a promise and a fear that both cut and kindled deeper things within her, like hope.
“Are we doing the right things? Are we making the right choices?” She asked the moon, there was no answer, no shade of queens long past appeared to give them words of wisdom or hope, had she been what she seemed even then? That Halloween seemed a life time ago, could it have been so short a time?
The carnage that was left behind, the black phoenix that had soared over the city, blood that stained the streets red and actions that were… unforgivable. “Did… -I- make the right choices?” She whispered, hope against hope that she would find some answer written in the stars. There was only silence.
For a long moment she stood there, closed her eyes and wrapped fingers around the black and red phone that she had been given so long ago. Tempting… tempting to go back to that red world with its ruins and mystery. Tempting to escape there and explore other questions and a half remembered past… but in the end she turned back. She turned to face the world she could not yet give up on, and all the people in it that she fought for… that her heart beat for. Blood… the most precious gift she could offer them and it was all she felt she could give.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 4:35 pm
In the Name of the Silvery Moon --
She thought the dance class might help, at first hope surged, she lost herself in the motion and the music, focusing on the precision of the movements but as the poses and positions grew more complex she just remembered, she remembered her sister. Every blond haired blue eyed girl in the class dancing with more experience than she had made her chest ache. She tried, she tried so hard to keep going, one class after another, she went through all the right motions. She was a polite and proper student and she wanted so hard to make it be the right thing.
She made it through half the class before she ran, she just turned, leaving her things in the lent locker and out the door. Her slippers, meant to protect their floor were awful for concrete but she didn’t seem to feel it as she lent herself to another kind of movement. S
She ended up on a bridge, leaning over the railing in the late evening and screaming out at the black water that flowed sluggishly below. Her tears fell down her face to join that black river, and she thought for certain it must be the river Styx, she thought for one stomach lurching moment that if she fell, if she sank into that cold dark water that she’d see the faces of everyone who had died, and maybe then she wouldn’t feel so guilty for living.
She was sure now as she leaned over the cold railing, her knuckles white that there had been sorrow in the faces of her ‘family’ every time she had left for the next class. She was bleeding them out slowly with every move she made. She was the senshi of blood well and true, she couldn’t’ escape the nature of her power, or the war.
Her stomach twisted and she thought she might be sick, but she sank to the sidewalk, grit biting into her knees as her hands trailed down the metal bars that blocked her from simply tipping over the edge. She didn’t have the ‘courage’ to jump, she knew that all too well.
So long ago pale blue hair and bright blue eyes had remarked she didn’t have it in her to be a leader, so why would she ever have the strength to do something that would be regarded as selfish.
She had some strength though.
She looked down at her hands as though she could see there in the dark the hundreds of times that she had pricked her finger to draw first blood so that she could fight. She could see the dark lines where she had tried to cut the pain away. The momentary relief that she had felt when the beads of blood had welled up against her pale skin, but it was a momentary forgetting. Soon after they beaded the drops would run, and then all that they could or would bring to mind were the blood ribbons that she called now.
“I don’t know who I am anymore.” She whispered around a hiccupping sob.
“…I don’t know anymore, there is no heartbeat here in this world. I just … I want to run away, I want a new life, I want a new everything.” She tipped her head back trying to swallow the grief that rose in her chest and prayed once again to the silver light of the moon. There was no answer, there never was.
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Posted: Mon Nov 18, 2013 4:30 pm
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