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 Posted: Sun Jan 14, 2007 7:01 pm
Lighting Prompt (Required to reach Lit Scent stage) You have just purchased an oil burner and a specific scented oil from the Solace Scents shop and you can't wait to light it! Now that you're home, it's time to find the perfect place to light that scent! However, strange things seem to happen when you do... particulary with the smoke...
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2007 3:29 pm
No matter how loudly the wind howled, or how hard the snowflakes were driven against the windowpanes, their attempts would only prove fruitless. The outside of the house appeared chilled and frozen, a little cake coated in frosting, in the most literal of senses. However, from behind the glass windows that were glazed in ice soft light flickered and danced, warm light, for despite the wind and snow outside, the home inside was snug and warm.
The rush of water thundered in her ears as Mary bent over the brass faucet of her tub. Reaching towards the drain, she jammed it and sat back with a small sigh. Perfect! The water began to slowly collect in the basin, sloshing around merrily, steam pooling and curling upwards in whorls. Tramping around in the sleet and snow for presents called for a treat of her own and a hot bath was the perfect answer to her aching feet; though…
She turned to look back towards the counter top. A little package sat there, as inconspicuously as can be, waiting for the moment she would open it. Weird detour that shop had been. It was almost as if…
No, no! You told yourself you’d stop believing in signs! With a harrumph she began to undress, kicking her clothes into a pile in the corner, but she lingered before climbing into the tub. She stared at the package, and ultimately decided that this was the perfect time to light it. Despite the goose-pimples that rose on her skin for walking over cold tile, she crossed the bathroom and picked up her purchase, unwrapped it, and dug for a match in the drawer.
“If I weren’t so eager to smell you, I’d just add a little bubbly to my bath.” She tore a matchstick from the row and struck it to light, passing it beneath the little oil’s cup. Giving the stand one last glance, she turned to step into her now filled tub with a splash, cutting the water off with her feet.
“Mmm, this is the life!” The heat of the water hugged her body, and Mary wiggled her toes with glee, sloshing the water between her hands like a child. This was why she loved winter so! It could get as cold as the morgue outside, but it was the only - and perfect! – time to take a hot bath. Just like hot cocoa didn’t taste right unless you knew Christmas-time was near, and scarves just didn’t make sense unless the wind nipped at you (why people wore them regardless confounded her!). Oh, yes…nothing quite fit hand-in-hand like a hot bath during winter.
Mary inhaled deeply and choked on a gasp, eyes snapping open. The oil that she had lit had begun to over power the room, cutting through the hazy warmth.
It smelt strongly of apples, like the perfect manifestation of comfort and care. Like that feeling you got when you saw a good friend after a long time, or when you came home after a particularly hard day at school, or a grueling day at work. It tickled her nose and relaxed her body, sweet and charming as it was.
But something…something began to roll over that, thundered over it like the water had before, leaving the scent of home behind the veil of a heady scent. It was overwhelming, thick, popping over her senses like balls of exploding glass, and she slid her eyes shut against the onslaught. It smelt of power and sensuality, of Danger dancing toe-to-toe with Safety, bearing down over Her and crushing Her into His being.
“Gosh,” she murmured thickly, sinking into the tub until her lower lip grazed the surface of the water. “Gosh…what a nice scent.”
And lulled by the scent of peace veiled with something wild, she fell asleep.
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Posted: Fri Feb 23, 2007 7:31 pm
Awakening Prompt (required to reach Child stage) Having run into your last ounce of oil, you mournfully place it into it's burner and light it, letting the aroma spread throughout your home happily. ------ [For Those Who Want To RP Witnessing The Event]You leave for a moment, deciding you felt peckish after smelling something so wonderful, and grabbed a snack from your kitchen. When you return you witness something absolutely amazing. The end result of the incident being a child on the floor of the room. Describe the sight, and the reactions of both you and the child at the end fo it all.------ [For Those Who Want To RP Finding The Child Only]Having remembered something you needed to do, you ran out of your home quickly, forgetting all about the burning oils inside. You return content, having completed your task only to find a small chidl wandering the halls of your home, leaving oily foot steps behind, leading to a cracked burner, and split candle wax. Describe your reaction, and how you deal with the oil tracking child.
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Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 7:06 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 7:14 pm
Quote: [For Those Who Want To RP Witnessing The Event]You leave for a moment, deciding you felt peckish after smelling something so wonderful, and grabbed a snack from your kitchen. When you return you witness something absolutely amazing. The end result of the incident being a child on the floor of the room. Describe the sight, and the reactions of both you and the child at the end fo it all.
Sheaves of music were scattered in front of her, but she paid no heed to the musical notes dancing before her eyes; no, rather she was bent over the keys, fingers pounding into each note so the entire piano trembled, each note quivered; the chords were short and staccato’d, almost angry. The scent cup sitting near her rattled in its holder; she really should have been more careful, though! Glass and hardwood weren’t the best of friends, and it was the last of the oil that she had.
And a bum bit, that. The smoke was hovering at the cup’s edge as if tentative to rise any higher. Then again, her playing wasn’t exactly welcoming it out into the room…
When the song came to an end, a hum of an echo tittered through the entire piano. Mary leaned back and stretched an arm over her head and rubbed her free hand through her thick curls.
“Oh, my fingers hurt!” she cried, albeit gleefully. She wiggled her aching digits with a beaming smile, and from the corner of her eye she spotted the smoke finally emerging from the scent cup; she pinched her face up and leaned forward.
“About time!” – she flapped her hand over it to help the scent disperse; she didn’t notice how it seemed to stay petulantly in place – “It’s a shame you’re running out so fast…maybe I should get some more, eh?” She smiled and leaned back, drumming her hands against her thighs, also so obviously unaware how crazy she looked speaking to a cup of oil. Really, Mary! Your blinds are open!
“Playing Beethoven-esque makes me hungry,” she explained to the cup, whose smoke now dangled like a tiny curtain away from her, as if it thought her strange for talking to it in the first place. Mary pushed her bench back and got up, hobbling to the kitchen for some food. This was where the battle to end all battles would take place, the fight that would determine the fate of the world!
“Apple or orange?”
She weighed her options as if it were a life-changing decision. Apples were sweet, oranges were tangy…both were healthy. She tapped her chin and in the end chose an orange, as her oil burner was giving her tons of apples as it were – she was due for a little change.
Every action has an opposite and equal reaction, isn’t that how the saying goes? Perhaps it was Mary’s choice that dictated what happened. Perhaps it was really an orange Eve ate instead of an apple, and now Mary was re-enacting the untimely fall of women into Satan’s clutches. Whatever the case, hell had certainly just opened up.
After grabbing her snack, the room she returned to was not her room at all – it didn’t even look like a room. She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart just a step behind her. The room, her living room was swathed in the over-powering scent of apples and spices. As the former rose up, the latter exploded to meet it ten fold crushing the sweet, sweet fragrance of apples beneath the heady, willful one of the spice. It burned her nose, made her eyes water; she could feel it tickling her skin and it was thick within her throat. Ribbons of red smoke curled around her furniture, played across the white keys of her piano.
It was madness. Sheer, sheer madness.
Mary coughed into her sleeve and squinted her prism’ing eyes against the wealth of heat and apple spice in the room; her heart had begun to beat again, though panic was well on its way to setting it. Was her piano on fire? What was going on? Throwing her reservations to the wind, she stumbled into the room, knocking into the couch on her way back to her beloved piano.
And peering through the veil, she saw it.
An eye. A massive eye born of smoke and haze and apple and spice. It hovered above her piano, fearfully domineering in its sheer size.
It blinked.
All the smoke from the room, as if by a reverse vacuum, exploded and went spiraling back into the cup like miniature ribbons of cyclones; Mary screamed and threw her arms up to cover her eyes as the wind picked at her clothes and hair. The orange fell to the floor and rolled beneath the piano and all was still.
Her heart was racing now, and she could feel tears of utter, animalistic fear p***k her eyes and seep into her sweater sleeve. Breath came in rasping gasps. She swallowed thickly, shoulders shaking, and unable to bear the weight of her fear, she collapsed to her bottom.
The F-sharp sounded. Mary tore her arm from her face with a squeak.
And there, sitting upon the top of her baby grand piano, was a child as nude as a newborn, curiously intent upon experimentally poking the keys with his toes. For lack of better wording, she gawked. Skin a rich shade of copper, eyes as piercing as a polished apple. His hair swung in a single ponytail, ebony threaded with scarlet. He was exotic in appearance, but so childlike and familiar nonetheless.
He smelt of apples and spice.
The boy soon lost interest of the piano, pulling his small feet from the keys as he took account of the room not unlike a feline: slowly, critically, possessively. His eyes fell upon Mary.
She could not formulate a coherent sentence, not while thumbed beneath a gaze so heavy, so obstinate. It was a look not befitting a child…no, it was the look of a king.
A smile curled his dark lips slowly, eyelids falling as his dark brows arched.
“You should have chosen the apple.”
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 7:10 pm
Pandora's Box is Shaped like a Sphinx
Pandora’s box had been opened and all the evils of the world paraded as one being throughout her house.
Mary could do nothing but watch the boy lord around her home, slinking from object to object with a look of ownership in his pretty green eyes. After his declaration, he had slid from her piano and begun his exploration, leaving the young, oh-so-confused woman trailing in his footsteps, hands to her mouth.
What had she done? She had checked the door, the windows, but they had all been latched firmly – and wasn’t it too cold for a little boy to be wandering the snow littered outside in naught but his birthday suit?
Mary hardly believed in magic anymore, though she knew it was an integral part of Midori; that flight of fancy had flit away like a frightened bird long ago. But he…he had come from somewhere, and her eyes kept trailing to the oil burner idling atop her piano. Olivia Solace…
Her breath caught, panic strangling her from inside – had that woman sold her a child intentionally? Her own little boy had smelt sweet like candy, and this one smelt of fresh apples and spice.
Peddling children: oh God, wasn’t that illegal? She could feel her fingertips become clammy.
His little brown feet pitter-pattered down the hallway and turned into her room, and she clambered after him, noisy whereas he had been silent as a feline.
She found her voice at the door, where she fingered the molding and watched in fear; not of him, but the matter of his origin…
“Who are you?”
The little boy ignored her, however, and proceeded to open and close her silver and gold leafed jewelry box on her nightstand. Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata flicked on and off, on and off; she saw a smile titter over his schooled features.
She swallowed and tried again, “Do you know Olivia Solace?”
His curious hands were poised over the patched quilt she had worked on last winter when he looked up. Her heart stopped; they were so green, the color of innocence, but so sharp, so wild. His rubbed the fabric between his forefinger and thumb, and canted his head; brows swept upward like sharp owl’s wings.
“No idea. Who are you? Why are you in my house?”
Mary choked on a laughed, “I-I’m sorry. What? This…you’re in my house. Where’s your mother – oh God, tell me you have a mother? Did she sell me a child? What am I going to DO!”
He smoothed the cloth down, but pulled at its corners and tugged it from her bed; he looked fond of it – no, he had already placed claim upon it. The satiated hunger was there in his eyes.
“My mother? I do not know – around, perhaps. You may seek me for counsel later, I do not feel like speaking right no—“
“Oh, heavens and earth alike, what am I going to do!” she cried piteously, finally cracking. A hand raked through her hair, her nails crushed between her teeth. The child looked angry to have been interrupted. This wasn’t what she had wanted – she wasn't READY for a child – could she support one? Mary didn’t have a clue as to the first point of motherhood, maybe…
“Maybe…maybe we should go f-for a walk.”
“Coronation?”
“What?”
The little boy wrapped the blanket around his waist and tied it, much like a skirt, or kilt. But he didn’t have much time to do otherwise as his hand was suddenly snatched up and he was yanked painfully out of the room (which he had claimed as his room) and towards the front door.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, ripping his tiny hand from the riled woman’s. Mary spun on him, panic in her eyes like a cornered doe. The door was open, and cold air rushed in to sting their faces; she grabbed her coat from the rack and tore it on.
“We…We have to walk. Have to. L-let’s go.”
“It is too cold,” he said, sticking his nose in the air. “I do not want to.”
A frustrated cry made him jump, and he watched as the plump young woman fell heavily onto the contraption she had been beating upon before his, ah, arrival. Her face was buried in her hands, wild hair falling across her vision. What was WRONG with her?
“This is too much, and it’s too weird, and I’m too young, and you’re wearing my quilt,” she mewled, wilting beneath his gaze. She half-curiously, half-maddeningly considered the idea of returning him; she could feel the receipt of purchase crinkle in her pocket. The type spoke of the shop, the price, the manufacturer…Amahté Inc. Sounded foreign, she thought absent-mindedly, as foreign as he smelt. In the end, she crumpled the slip of parchment.
She couldn’t return a child, just as she couldn’t buy one!
When she looked up, she saw him passing a hand over the fine engraved wood of the coat hanger, “I thought you’d be pleased.” His voice was melancholy. No, not sad. Dark.
“What?” It seemed to be the appropriate, reiterated statement of the day.
A tiny sneer curled the corners of his lips, eyes flying at her through the fall of his lashes, “Pleased to be in the presence of a god.”
He was in her arms and she was out the door before he could say anymore. Olivia had some explaining to do.
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 8:40 pm
WTF is this?! Explain, woman at the counter! Quote: Status: Stalled
The Players: Amryx and Adrian, Olivia and Ment, Kitten and Vanyel, Arius and Farlest
Synopsis: There are curious things coming from these oil burners, Ms. Solace, and we want an explanation...
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 8:44 pm
Smite all opposition! Quote: Status: Complete! The Players: Vanyel and Amahté Synopsis: If Amahté wants to conquer the world, he has to start somewhere! And it looks as though Vanyel will be along on the ride, to boot.
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Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 6:10 pm
A Home Beneath the Ground Mary heaved another stack of books into the crumpled box on the floor, where they cascaded into a mess against every corner. The cardboard sagged with the strain and not even the tape fastening the sides could keep the thick volumes from pressing their faces against the open creases. She wiped her brow and pushed her sleeves up again, leaning back against the desk that sat against the wall. She had been repacking all of her books in her small library, preparing them for their trip down into the basement; this would be maybe her…
She counted upon her fingers: sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth! Her ninth trip down those old, rickety steps with heavy load, and she doubted she’d even gotten a third of her library. Sleeping on the couch for another week was going to kill her, and Amahté – as a growing boy and all – really needed his own space.
Plus, she wanted her room back.
Grabbing the ears of the box, she strained and hefted it into her arms, groaning as the corner dug into her solar plexus. She was going to put out her back one of these days! Oh, when the Scent child was a bit taller…then he could grease his elbows a bit!
She wobbled out into the hall with a turtle’s pace. Mary’s arms were already feeling a bit like melting wax, and she could feel her knees aching to give out. What she wouldn’t do for a little manpower, that’s for sure.
“Where are you going?”
Fate had a funny way of teasing her when she needed a bit of help, didn’t it?
Craning her neck over the side of the box, she forced a smile for Amahté, which looked more like a grimace of pain. He was standing casually before her, a sandwich poised to his mouth, as if he were overseeing work he had put her to do. Sweat beaded her temple. Mary giggled.
“I’m putting all this in the basement so you can have the extra room,” she nodded, ticking her head towards the end of the hall. When he didn’t move, she squeezed herself passed him and skittered towards the kitchen. The soft ‘tup-tup-tup’ of his bare feet told her she was being followed.
“The basement?” he queried, catching up with her; he wasn’t about to trail behind her like a knave; he edged in against her side.
His guardian nearly paused – she had never shown him the basement? Well…it wasn’t like it was a place she used often (though moving her books would soon prove otherwise; all her music would now be down in the cold!). She looked over her shoulder and curled her lips, bemused.
“I’ll show you. C’mon.”
They passed across the cool stone that lined the kitchen, and over to a door that, to Amahté, appeared out of thin air. It was so inconspicuous, even though it was just as any other door in the house. She set the box of books and files down on the counter and shook her arms out, but the boy beat her to it. His hand wrapped around the glass knob and he swung the door open.
“Oh!” Her heart soared. “Thank you so much, Ama—“
He scampered down the steps ahead of her, the door snapping shut behind him. Mary faltered and heaved a much-needed sigh.
He had taken a few steps in the suppressing dark and then stopped. He belatedly realized that he could not see, and cursed mildly, stretching an arm to press it against the wall. It was cool, but dry and the cinderblocks scratched his palm as he dragged it across the stone. He could find no light source from which to guide his way, and so continued down the wooden steps into the room below.
It was illuminated, but barely, by the sunlight that managed to find its way through the miniscule window near the ceiling. Everything was cast in soft shades of blue and gilded with a fine film of dust, of which had been kicked up in some places where stacks of books were stacked like lean-to towers. The entire space was massive, plain straight walls and a low ceiling…little light and a chilled, cement floor.
Amahté regarded it with an architect’s eye, pacing the basement and touching the stone walls, knocking his tiny fist against a thick beam that ran from floor to ceiling. He couldn’t reach the small light that dangled above his head, so that would need to be fixed…
But the place…oh, it was suitable and he liked it very much.
“What are you up to, Ama?”
Mary poked her head from over the staircase. She ambled down the steps and dropped the box against the wall with an audible ‘bang!’. Watching the little boy made her smile, if only a little – was he so fascinated with the basement? To be a child again; one always found wonder in everything.
“I was thinking of turning this into the library so you can have the room upstairs; that’s what I’ve been up to, surprise-surprise!” She laughed and rubbed her hands against her leggings.
The Scent turned, “I’d like to have this room.”
She blinked. The..basement? Her nose crinkled, and she made a motion with her hands as if to say ‘this room? What could you possibly want down here?’.
“Yes – this room is big enough, I suppose….” He nodded and made his way back to the stairs.
“But…but….” She had worked so hard to bring the books down here in the first place! Now she had to lug them all the way back up? Fate…fate was having a field day at her expense, and this just wasn’t fair.
She looked at the stacks and shuddered.
“You need not move them yet!” came the call from the top of the steps.
Mary collapsed against the wall. Yeah. Right.
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Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 6:14 pm
Forget-Me-Nots Quote: Status: Complete! The Players: Crystal, Rose, May, Tango, Edward, Veronica, Mary, Amahté Synopsis: A JOB! In order to occupy her time and mind Mary seeks out a job at a local flower shop and café; unfortunately Amahté is dragged out for the day much to his chagrin.
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Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 6:18 pm
Round and Round it Goes Quote: Status: Ongoing~ The Players: Orpheus and Amahté Synopsis: On a trip into the 'real world', Amahté slips away from Mary unnoticed. His attention is caught by a magnificent carousel where he meets a boy brilliant enough to garner even HIS respect!
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Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 6:20 pm
Sweet Tooth Quote: Status: Complete (?) The Players: Anastasia and Amahté, with an appearance by Oscar! Synopsis: Another outing on his own and the little Scent meets Anastasia, a sweet little girl with an even sweeter tooth! Ama's first experience with chocolate cake!
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Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 6:24 pm
Lady Luck? For Whom! Quote: Status: Ongoing~ The Players: Anbu, Vanyel, Amahté Synopsis: During an excursion to the music store, Mary drops Amahté off across the street at the park, where there's a very unlikely meeting!
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Posted: Sun Oct 21, 2007 11:12 am
His Preference The room had changed drastically. The stone-walls were almost a crème in color, the floor slatted with dark wood. There was a small, single-candled altar, next to the boy’s low lying bed – corners were piled with more books than she had brought down, several opened and scattered at the foot of his bed. The coverlet was thrown back, the blankets rumpled and piled willy-nilly and his pillow punched and flattened into a pancake. He even had a vanity!
She pressed her fingers to her lips, holding a soft laugh.
If only he would keep it clean, she thought, walking to Amahté’s empty bed and straightening out the comforter. She pumped life back into his pillow and wiped it down with the palms of her hands, setting it neatly at the head. Kneeling down, she picked up the thick volumes he had been perusing and stacked them up atop the books nearest his bed, while organizing the junk piled at his vanity. She never touched his altar.
It was chilly down here; she would look into that later.
As Mary took in the room of her adopted child, she felt achingly empty. She wished she could coddle him, tuck him in, hold onto him like most parents do, but she knew he would shove her away – children did that too, but one could always look at them fondly afterwards. Not so with Amahté.
No matter what she gave, what she did…. he simply would not take. It was like she was living in an empty house.
The young woman pinched her fingertip. Don’t be stupid, she told herself. She walked back to the stairs and paused.
There he was, curled beneath the steps, sound asleep.
“Silly boy.”
And with an action he would never see, never appreciate, she slid her arms beneath the child and carried him to his bed, where she tucked him in against the coolness of the basement. She brushed his sidelock from his face and removed his earring, pressing a kiss to his brow though he would never return the favor.
She stepped back and turned off the light on her way to the stairs, disappearing into the house as though she had never been there in the first place. The way Amahté preferred it.
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Posted: Sun Oct 21, 2007 11:22 am
Down the Rabbit's Hole Quote: Status: Complete! The Players: Crystal, Kaoru, Mary, Amahté Synopsis: First day of work - it seems Crystal has a child of her own!
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