|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:34 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:37 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:38 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:42 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:55 pm
Sun Jan 31, 2010  Sailor Scylla, RELEASE THE KRAKEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!HOUSE GREYJOY: WE DO NOT SOW
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:57 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:41 am
Solo #1 - Resignation
Feb 17, 2010
Jada Chamberlyn paced her room, every part of her body, every nerve, on end. She'd woken this morning to a panicked, frantic phone call from her parents. Lisa had been found dead. Vivian had been found not far from the hospital, collapsed and unconscious. Some strange girl with a cat had seen what happened. Naturally, as Jada had been known to be with them, people were searching for her. It was covered. Somehow. There was a shopkeeper corroborating her story that she had left them behind at the bookstore cafe, and no one had seen her come in past curfew, so that meant she had to have been back at the school already.
She wanted to scream that it was all a lie. Wanted to rant and wail like a maniac about magical cat and starseeds and oh my god she'd summoned tentacles from the ground. It was like a bad horror novel. And god, Vivi and Lisa were...
The ride to the hospital had passed in stony silence, her inner screams silenced by outer serenity. The only signs of her inner emotion were the helpless twitching of her fingers. “Don't do that,” was the first thing her mother said. “It's not ladylike.”
“Don't do that,” her father said, taking apart her wringing hands and patting one of them comfortably. “You're a Chamberlyn, and you have nothing to be worried about.”
“Don't do that!” her sisters had chided, Kayley patting at her pale cheeks. “Jayjay, you're worrying mother!”
Why did no one see her confusion? They were all taking it as shock. Even the police officers who had spoken to her had taken one look at her perfect curls and starched clothing, a look at the lost, hopeless look in her eyes and concluded it was shock.
And wasn't it?
Lisa looked peaceful. Nothing showed that her very life essence had been taken from her forcibly. Vivi's face was still tense, but they had smoothed it out. The peace of that face was broken by the fact that she was on life support and comatose. No one could be truly peaceful with a breathing tube. No one knew if or when she would even wake up. Her head had been cracked open by the fall she'd taken when a giant stuffed bunny dropped her. Her leg was broken, a rib was cracked; they thought she'd been hit by a car.
No shrieking, no crying. Their mothers were doing enough of that. Lisa had been an only child, Vivian had three older brothers. Jada just had to stand there in silence while angry families wailed and wept and screamed at her for leaving their little girls behind early. If she'd stayed! If she'd stayed!
If only they knew. Her gut twisted and screamed, bubbles of hysteria in her gut. If only they could know!
It was only later, safe at home, that she let her little brother close to her, holding him to her tightly and burying her face in his dark hair. “I love you.” he whispered. “I'm glad you went home early. The car might have broke you too.” It was then that her shoulders began to shake. The first tears that dripped down her pale cheeks were hot. Her cheeks were bloodless, and everything was warm. Especially small arms holding her, tiny hands patting her back as she wept. “I'm glad you weren't broken.”
“I am too.” she whispered back to him. Pulled away from Lucas, raised her handkerchief to her eyes to blot. His little face brightened and he giggled.
“Your cheeks are all black.” he told her, held up a mirror. It was a stranger within it, a girl she didn't recognize with clear, aching eyes. A face too pale, a knowledge too dear.
“Why yes they are.” she agreed. “I guess they are.” The white handkerchief stroked over the lines of her face, the high cheekbones, traveling in an outline against the large, almond-shaped eyes. Setting the little boy down, she moved over to the ornate mirrored vanity and sat down at it. Behind her she could see her two sisters peeking into her room. “Zora. Kayley. Come on in.”
She watched the twelve year olds skip in, felt them sit attentively at her side. “Will you make us up for dinner, Jayjay?” Zora asked, resting her blonde curls against Jada's left arm. “Once you've fixed yourself back up.”
“Of course.” Jada could feel her lower lip start to tremble. These beautiful little girls could one day be in the same danger she had been in. These beautiful sisters of her could be in the same situation as Lisa, or Vivian.
She would want someone else to protect them if she could not, and Ophelia had said she could. That she had the responsibility to.
She had the duty to protect someone else's little brothers and sisters and loved ones.
“You know I would do anything for you three.” she whispered, and pulled Lucas closer to the bench so she could enclose her siblings in her arms.
That was how their mother found them, fifteen minutes later, still holding each other. “Jada, what happened to your face? Fix yourself immediately. Zora, Kayley, go get ready for dinner. Lucas, darling, come along.” Reluctantly, the four Chamberlyn children let go of each other.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:43 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:44 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:48 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:49 am
Solo #2: Negotiation- As if!
Feb 23, 2010It was 2:00 P.M. on a Saturday afternoon, and Jada Chamberlyn was in the sitting room with her parents. It was awkward. It was full of mindless, inane conversation that Jada knew was not the point of this meeting.
Her mother was dressed formally (sapphires, as Szelem Montgomery-Chamberlyn was of the opinion no lady wore diamonds in the daytime) to the point of being in a deep blue satin suit that brought out the color of her eyes. Deep black hair (dyed to the raven hue that she had enjoyed in her youth) was pulled back from her face into a ponytail. The waves fell in perfect ringlets to the older woman's shoulder-blades. If Jada was correct, that was fresh botox in those perfect lips too. She had gel nails, exactly ¾ of an inch long, French-tipped; they sat at the end of long fingers adorned with one ring. Szelem had picked it out herself after a fight with her husband, and Jada could remember the fight. The $100,000+ price tag for that particular ring had sent them into screaming matches for a week and a half. And it wasn't even the ring that they were fighting over, it was the fact that Szelem had used the credit card with the limit, not the one without.
For the part of Jada's father, T. Michael Chamberlyn, he was looking tired. In the 25 years he'd been married to the woman he loved, he'd never fought as badly with her as he had in the last week. Grey hair streaked his temples, but his black hair was still thick and full, even at 52 years old. Black suit pants and black loafers, a deep maroon shirt with rolled up sleeves. The suit jacket was tossed over the back of his chair and he had a stack of papers three inches high on his desk that he was leafing through. Jada knew all too well what the majority of the fighting had been about. 12-year-olds Kayley and Zora had done it again; what they had done didn't matter, they'd done everything at least once. And Lucas, only 10 years old, was being prepared to be sent off to a military boarding school for boys.
There was no sound, not even a china clink as Szelem set down her teacup. “Jada,” she said finally, (her mother's voice was so grating sometimes with the prim and proper diction) “Your father and I have chosen to call this meeting in order to discuss your future.”
“Your mother chose to bother you with this meeting.” Michael interrupted his wife.
“Your father has no care for ensuring you receive the proper education.” Szelem pulled out three small pamphlets. The Institut Villa Pierrefeu, the Surval Mont-Fleuri, and the Protocol School of Washington were printed across the front. “I fully expect you to select one of these schools for your finishing.” How typical of the older woman. She'd been working on dictating her daughter's future since she was still in little designer diapers. Jada crossed her ankles, reaching out to take the pamphlets from her mother's hand quietly.
“Naturally if you wish to skip that unnecessary step and proceed to working with me, that is to be expected.” her father sounded bored, taking for granted the same thing her mother was. That their plans, different from the other as they were, would take precedence over what Jada herself wanted to do.
And in the end, they very well may be right. What did Jada want to do with her life? She'd been dragged around like a doll since she was old enough to rate the attention of an actual parent rather than just her nanny. All she'd done (not that she was complaining, mind) was spend her father's money. Her own money, inherited from her mother's parents, was considerable but locked away in trust until her 21st birthday. So in the meantime, she needed something to do. She couldn't live off her father forever, and 'considerable' money would not be enough to support the lavish lifestyle she was accustomed to. Her mother wanted her to find a wealthy husband and be nothing more than a trophy wife. Her father wanted her to take over his company.
“Actually, mother, father; I was thinking about spending a semester or two in Sovereign Heights before attending the University of Destiny City. I want to at least have some kind of proper degree.” still, she didn't discard the pamphlets in her hand. That would have been far too foolish at the moment. Her mother wouldn't give up until Jada was actually too old to attend a finishing school. “I was considering a degree in Business Management.” That would please her father.
“I think that's a-” her father started.
“Horrible idea and out of the question.” her mother finished. She leaned forward, tapped the papers. “Those are your future options, Jada Chamberlyn, and I'll not have you thinking otherwise. Do you understand me?” The older Chamberlyn didn't wait for her daughter's response. Szelem stood, leaving her teacup on its saucer and on her husband's desk. “Michael, I'll not have you forgetting the benefit this evening. Be dressed by 7:15 or I will be vexed.”
It was only 3:00 now. Michael stood courteously as his wife swept out of the room imperiously, almost bumping into the maid who was bringing them a fresh pot of tea. When the other woman was gone, leaving Jada and her father in silence, Michael collapsed into his chair with a heavy sigh. “I love your mother you know.”
“I know, Daddy.”
“I don't like to fight with her.”
“I know, Daddy.” but you do it so often.
“But if you don't want to go to a Finishing School, you won't, Jada.” he reached across the desk, took his daughter's delicate hand in his own. “You know I'm well aware of your distaste for your mother's socialite lifestyle. You've never shown the same drive to be married that your mother had. And what a relief it has been.”
Of course she didn't want to be married. Hell, she'd be happy to have a boyfriend that hadn't been bought by her father's money. Hell, she'd be happy to not be a virgin. “Daddy, I'm only seventeen.” she chided, keeping the rest of her comments to herself. Seventeen, and she'd been kissed exactly twice in her life. One of those kisses had been a lesbian, and the other had been a young man under the assumption that they were already engaged. Family didn't count toward that kiss total.
“I know, but I keep watching you grow into this lovely young woman. Your mother was just as beautiful as you when she was your age, and I remember the way-”
“Daddy.” she cut him off with a knowing look. The older man gave his daughter a sheepish smile, squeezing her hand.
“I just want you to know that regardless of if you choose finishing school or take your place with the company immediately, I'll be behind you.” he let her hand go almost reluctantly.
“What if I don't want to work with the company?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the brochures in her hand. “What if I want to explore other options?” Jada had never noticed that the carpets were patterned with small lotus flowers. The walls were somehow a deeper forest green than they had ever been before, and the floor-to-ceiling windows were suddenly oppressive.
“Other options before taking over, right?” his voice was quiet, careful. Jada raised her eyes to her father before quietly shaking her head. “Oh.” he looked down at his desk, pulling his hand away from hers to shuffle the papers. “I suppose I would support that option as well. You know, however, that would leave me at an extreme disadvantage when trying to discuss things with your mother.” AKA 'I'll have jack s**t to argue back at your mother with should you choose to follow this course.'
“I know, Daddy.”
He sighed, lowering his eyes from Jada to the papers on his desk. “Just keep your mother happy until you decide what to do.” eyes flickered back up to her. “Which means until you are enrolled in the school of your choice, Jada. And stay out of further legal issues.” A reminder of the night she had been Awakened as a Senshi- not that he knew that it had happened. “Don't be involved in any issues, and for god's sake, make your decision quickly.”
Jada smiled, pushed to her feet. The new pot of tea had still not yet been touched. “I'll be as good as I can, Daddy.” she agreed, and moved around the desk to press a kiss to his forehead. “Oh, and can I have the credit card again? I want to go shopping for some things.”
Smooth.
(She got the credit card.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:51 am
Solo #3: Recognizance
Feb 23, 2010A dark-haired young woman in the uniform of a Crystal Academy lay across her bed one lovely Tuesday afternoon with a laptop in front of her. The windows were open, curtains blowing in the cool breeze that flowed in. She'd gotten out of class not even half an hour prior and she was still in her uniform. After the discussion with her parents a few days prior, she was researching a few things.
According to a personality test, Jada had some sort of an “ESFJ” personality. Extraversion, Sensing, Feeling, Judgment or something like that. Other personalities of her tye included Bill Clinton, Cindy Crawford, Frank Sinatra and Martha Stewart. “As an ESFJ, your primary mode of living is focused externally, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit in with your personal value system.” she read aloud.
After reading the description, it didn't feel right. So she took the test again. ESFP, this time. Extraverted, Sensing, Feeling and Perceiving. The description of this particular said she was a very expressed extravert with a moderately expressed sensing personality in addition to a moderately expressed feeling personality and slightly expressed perceiving personality. That was a lot of moderates and slightly's. Other personalities of this type included... Elvis Presley, Elizabeth Taylor, Bob Hope, Eva Gabor, Goldie Hawn, Kyle Petty, Steve Irwin and Serena Williams. Oddly, she preferred the other list. Bill Clinton was a PRESIDENT.
Ah well, one could not have everything. In her distinctive hand she wrote down the two personalities in two columns.
ESFJ
Management: Management, Public Administration, Hotel & Restaurant Management, Fashion Merchandising
Health Care: Nursing, Health Care Administration, Radiologic Technician, Physician
Social Service: Education, Social Work
ESFP
Art: Acting and Performances, Dressmaking & Design, Advertising
Customer Service: Public Relations Specialist, Sales/Marketing Specialist, Fitness & Nutrition
Social Service: Early Childhood Education
Management: Fashion Merchandising
The pen tapped against the pad of paper as she contemplated the two columns and the potential jobs that they contained. None of them were what her father hoped for. Certainly none of them were what her mother hoped for.
But what about her? Could she handle a career like one of these? Would they make her happy? Well, public relations was something that she might be able to handle. And something her parents might be content with... Fitness and Nutrition? Jada did like staying in shape, but she loved food with equal fervor. Education? Fashion? She struck out Dressmaking and Design with a single line through it. Same with Acting and Performance.
Should she consider the education possibilities? Children were... well, annoying... in their own way, but she would get to send them home at the end of the day. And it wasn't like she'd be stuck in a rut, same thing day in and day out.
She dropped the pen onto the pad of paper and returned slender fingers to the small keyboard of her laptop. Wait, Tim “The Toolman” Taylor was one of the same types of personalities as she? That was... absurd! He was an absolute buffoon, she'd SEEN reruns of that show! And the description of the ESFP personality was just as absurd. She wasn't like that at all, was she?
A link was bookmarked for her future reference that suggested some more potential careers. There were tons of options there, further marked into more details of her personality type. Was this something she should talk over with a school counselor or something?
Luckily for her, that was when the alarm on her cellular phone went off. 5:00 in the afternoon. She'd been reading over this for two hours already? Shoving off her bed, she dropped the uniform to the floor and slid into a pair of jeans and a tank top, slipping her feet into a pair of black sandals. No jewelry, no purse. The makeup was going to come off anyway. First plan for the evening would be two hours at the gym, followed by some food.
Oddly, she was really craving some hashbrowns and pancakes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:53 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:54 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 3:55 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
