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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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 Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2012 6:19 am
 She rolled out of her bed. Solia didn’t often do it, but when you were already wrapped in a comforter too bid for you or your bed and the carpet was far to plush to be considered normal it wasn’t really a problem. Rolling out of bed meant you could worm and wiggle your way lazily to whatever part of your room you wanted, and frankly no one cared because hey it was comfortable. At least to Solia it was. She didn’t mind the fact she was lazy by doing it, or that her roommate muttered angrily at her to keep it down. She always did that, even if Solia got up normally. But this morning Solia couldn’t really care. She had plans. Plans that involved a date. With a boy. Her first date as a matter of fact. She’d met him on the bus. He went to the all boys portion of the school. Thus far enrolled, she’d managed to keep her secret just that, a secret. No one knew the things she could see. Her requests to keep her history rather under wraps had been allowed. She was young, she wanted a fresh start, she didn’t want past shadows following her here too. That was, the metaphorical ones. The real shadows she already saw, she already had made her peace with, she’d already gotten past ignoring. Many of them hadn’t caught on to her yet. Yet, that was the key part of it all. Sooner or later, they would catch on. It was part of the grand inevitable with her. To go to a new school every few years, to have someone find out, to become outcast. To try to fit in with the outcasts, then just to be shown that even among them, she was too good to be bad, too bad to be good. Good and bad both subjective. Relevant in ways that were not easy to explain to other beyond what was youthful idealism of the culture’s ideal image for girls of her social standing and upbringing. She could dress the part, look the part, talk the part, eat, sleep, walk, sing, dance, play the role of the culture’s accepted image but the one mistake was that she had a shadow she alone could see. And it was that shadow that was not allowed. It was the one thing that kept her outside of the gates of social conformity. She conformed to everything but that which was impossible to her. Normal lacking in normality. Solia has given up on such endeavors when she had mislead herself with the first delusions of romance. Now she was a year older. She had delusions still, but these were not unfounded. She’d been one to accept the advance, not make them this time. She’d been the one to look up at him, wondering why he was talking to her. Why was he being nice to her. He asked her name and she gave it. He smiled when she did. ‘Solia, that’s a pretty name. I’ve seen you at choir. What class are you?’ He’d been casual. Erik. Erik with a k. It wasn’t short for anything, and yes, his parents really did name him with a k. They thought it was a great name. He thought it was a pain as he kept having to tell people how to spell it. As the bus rocked going through slush towards the school’s campus, he took her invitation to sit next to her, commenting on her shoes. How he didn’t expect a girl to wear such colorful boots, much less such simple ones. All the girls he saw wore expensive fur trimmed boots. She told him how she didn’t bother with them when socks and rainboots did the same job. Besides, those were expensive and ill suited to long walks in places with dirty snow and slush. Pointing out his own shoes he laughed. His expensive boots had several stains, likely would need to be replaced in the coming year for the sake of fashion while her boots were pulled out for the days they would be crossing campus for classes. Hers would have little damage, little wear and tear. He blushed when she asked why he seemed so interested about her shoes. His answer had been simple, but it had given color to her cheeks. “Because I didn’t know how else to keep your attention and break the ice.” She asked if he meant to make the joke about ice. He laughed, and she felt herself get that feeling in her gut, the one they called butterflies. Solia took his hand when she got off the bus with him. He asked if she was free Friday, if she might like to meet him in the library to study. On Friday, even though she had to cross campus, she wore her colorful boots again.
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2012 6:21 am
Why did he have to smile so sweetly when he talked to her? Why did he have to make her feel embarrassed over nothing? He was smart. She knew it the second that they began to go over their world history homework. He was passionate about it. He had more books than needed, a copy on a novel illustrating the economic aftermath of the Treaty of Versailles. It was far above his reading level but he wanted to try it anyway. He wanted to learn about the history of the world. “What better way to plan for the future than to look to the past?” He didn’t mind when he touched her ear to brush away a lock of hair to see her shy away, if slightly dramatically. He sat and watched her, blushing on his own, asking if she was alright, if he’d hurt her. He’d laughed when she told him why. Why she hated being touched by her ears. She didn’t tell him due to shadows. But she told him how the priest had clapped her on the ears. How the nuns from childhood would twist and pull them all the time. He’d nodded, telling her he’d seen it done before. He’d gone to one of those small schools once. He’d been younger and he’d not fit in. His parents pulled him out and placed him in a larger one. The small schools were harsher to be sure. He’d promised to never touch her ears again. And no matter what happened between them, he kept his promise. He’d never touched them again. The library was quiet, and as they went from world history to math, he tried his best to keep up with her. But truthfully she was just as behind as him. They struggled together. It was a slow process but they worked through each other’s homework. Different yet the same subject matter. Boys and girls didn’t take the same classes. It would prove to give them too much interaction the school thought. But when Solia looked up from her work she saw a couple interacting in a way that suggested if the school was so against it they needed to keep the genders far more separate than just outside the classroom. Erik just blushed and went back to their work. Fingers touched fingers and she pulled them back like he’d set her on fire. Casual touch didn’t happen. Casual touch was not for Solia. But then it happened again. His hands brushing on her own. A moment when she noticed how his hands were rough and calloused. She didn’t pull away, and while there was no moment where his fingers interlaced with her own, he seemed to take it as a sign. Sun light had begun to fade into a dark grey sky as the lamps came on, giving the freshly falling snow outside a yellow white glow. Their coats and scarves were on their chairs. The homework was done by then. There was nothing but the outside chill keeping them indoors. She bit her lip before she asked him. Did he want to go outside. He’d lightened up when she asked, happy to accept. A quick time to enjoy the snow before they would have to return to their dorms. His scarf was the school code one. The one you got from the nice color printed magazine they gave students year round. Grey and blue. It didn’t match his eyes. Green. She remembered them because they were the same color ask her mother’s necklace, that deep emerald. Her scarf was blue, always a solid blue, but it had a frilled edge. She’s made it herself. She told him when he asked. Jokingly he said he envied her ability to sew. He knew how to fish and thread a hook, but not a needle. Solia said she’d make him one. He laughed and it made her feel warm. Even as show fell on her wool hat, school mandatory color and type, she felt warm as they made nonsense images with their footprints. His smile at her boots. Her’s at the fact he noticed them again. The ringing of bells, they had five minutes, she found a clean patch, letting herself down to make a snow angel. When he helped her up and then she told him to make one beside her’s- He told her no. When she insisted he relented. As she helped him up he looked to his creation and smiled. “Well now they won’t be alone at least.” She asked if it mattered. He said it did, because angels didn’t deserve to be alone. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking or sincere. He asked if she was free on Sunday after mass. If she might like to go into town with him. He said he liked her. To wear her boots. A small snapshot as he walked back to his dorms as she stood by the snow angels. It was nice to not be alone.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2012 6:22 am
They flickered when he came inside. Orange gold flames getting a bit yellow as the air almost put them out. Tiny images of the virgin Mary, of Jesus on the tall thing glasses. Solia loved to spend her time looking at them while she prayed. They were all very beautiful. The designs and motif were repetitive, yet she loved them all the same. To her, the images had an art to them, a whimsical quality. Magical, the candles burned and game off only thin tendrils of smoke here and there. They were not scented, there was no combat between them and the familiar scent of the potpourri nearby. Incense was lost to the faint draft coming from the space behind the altar, the door way that lead to the space she didn’t see, only in passing. Where altar boys would come and go to bring things out sometimes. The back of the church was where the fathers lived. Supposedly. Solia only knew what she was told, and she was told a great many things but not where the priests lived. That was a secret. Not even her parents knew for sure. And like any child Solia assumed they knew for certain about everything. “Hello Solia.” His voice was lighter and warmer than the other priest. He was younger too, the few wrinkles on his face hinting he was just reaching what many adult called old. But he smiled at her. He didn’t sound mocking as he sat beside her asking what she was doing. He sounded genuinely interested. A vast difference to the tone the other priests would take with her. “I’m looking at the candles.” “Oh? You’re not praying?” She gasped, realizing that she was supposed to be, that she’d be chided for not doing so. Not praying made the shadows stronger, it made it easier for them to come after her. She didn’t believe it anymore, not after doing it for so long and it showing no changes but she would try. It was all she could do after all. Try and hope it worked. “It’s alright, sometimes prayer gets boring. And the candles are quite lovely.” He smiled at her, not a tone of chiding, of mocking, just mild talking. He didn’t speak down to her, only voiced his own thoughts. “Tell me Solia, what else are you watching?” She didn’t tell him about she’d been watching the shadow in the corner of her eye, how it was rocking back and forth, as if sleeping. She didn’t see any eyes on it. She didn’t see claws or fangs or a smile. “Just candles Father.” He sighed. “Not even the one in the corner?” She remembered that moment. She remembered the utter chill she had as he said it. Demons could mask themselves. This was a demon. Demons had to be powerful to appear as priests. To be in the church and appear human. But he smiled at her, and there were no horns on his head, no a wisp of shadows by him. Turning from her, he folded his hands and invited her to pray with him. Our Father. The most simple of prayers. Her hands shook as she said the words. Once done he took a deep breath and sighed. “I could see them when I was your age too.” She stared at him, silent. Wondering. He’d said a prayer. Demons couldn’t say prayers. Not even the powerful ones. So Solia was told, so Solia believed. “They called me cursed. They called me a lot of things. They told me I had to banish my demons but do you want me to tell you a secret?” She nodded her head, not sure, her mind trying desperately to take it all in. “They will never go away. They might tell you they will but.. for those like us Solia, we cannot help that we are born with this gift. That were born able to see what we see.” He reached out, and she flinched when he brushed hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry that we could not have met sooner. I wasn’t made aware of your case until very recently.” He was genuine. He always was genuine. “I’m Father Garrison. For the next few weeks I’ll be handling your sessions alright?” He reached out to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Solia.” She took his hand and gave into the light shake. He didn’t squeeze, just held. “It’s nice to meet you Father.” She was whispering. So unsure. He could see them. “I realize that this must be a lot to take in, so I’m going to end the session a bit short. But tonight I want you to know that I’m here now, and that I’ll help teach you how to avoid them alright?” She gave him a nod and he smiled at her, hopeful. Alone in the pew in front of the candles, curled up as the door closed behind him, Solia began to silently cry. Because for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel alone.
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2012 6:23 am
The Prince of Life and the Maid of Ice By: (She paused a long while at this part. Rep knew her old SN but ehhhhhhhhh. She just stuck with it. Not like it mattered) doublehedsh0t TW: Amex TW: Tsundere TW: ********: Leads TW: AU Rating: T (Because this wasn’t no lemon TYVM) Angst/Romance Canon alteration (Okay maybe she was just a shipper and was deluding herself but hey this was her fic) Solia looked around her. Neither hunter was anywhere to be seen. She eyed the door to the life lab as if either one would bust in at a moment’s notice. What Solia did was tempt fate. If either of them came in and saw what she was writing… with WHOM- well actually Lex would probably just give her looks and Ami would make faces and wipe her documents she’d need to save them in some death file backup of hide in the old… file in a file in a file in a file in a file trick. Then mask with porn or something. Too bad Solia lacked porn. She was pretty sure however that if she dig around she would find some but really she wasn’t that desperate to hide her fics. No way. She didn’t need to see some dude’s fap material. Nope, she was good. Now if they had pictures of hot shirtless men… Hey she wasn’t opposed. Hot shirtless… men… like… okay wow yes. She remembered certain males and yes okay wow that train of thought needed to end very shortly. Israfel gave a little cough in her mind. Apparently even he thought that such things were rather inappropriate. He didn’t so much care but he was much more focused on the fact Solia had a task before her, that task being writing. Writing fanfiction. Of two very nice hunters who looked so cute together back at that whole mission even if it was a black rom. The simple sack carry, the tsundere moves, the general fack life was pretty anime sugoi for Solia could not be ignored. Plus she had nothing better to do. She’d filed paper work, dealt with a bunch of other things, and now it was down time. Fic time. Get out some dumb feels. Hell she didn’t know. She was bored, things just happened. Cracking her knuckles in true anime fashion, Solia got to ‘work’. Quote: Once upon a time, there lived a prince of life. His father, the king, was notorious for his womanizing ways, and his heir was no better. The prince seduced ladies from across the realm, from other kingdoms, his womanizing ways only shadowed by his pure heart. Despite his flaws, he was much loved by his people, even if he tempted the feared King of Death from the kingdom across the mountains of decay. His life almost lost, he was spared for another time, returned to his kingdom unharmed. Resuming his role and his ways, the prince went across the lands, his hedonistic ways unchanged. Yet one day as he rode too far to the north, he found himself in a cold land. A land where the sun did not shine, and his people did not smile, nor did they cheer his arrival. A land of cold, a land of ice and snow. The women of this land paid him no mind, they spurned all his advances. A few gave him a chance, yet no matter how his lips warmed their skin, they returned to the embrace of their endless winter after the deed was done. They were the women of the north, hearts frozen by a dark magic that no man could pierce. The prince did not mind this, for his was not the task to sway hearts. That was until he found her. A maid of ice, she tended to the frozen blooms of her garden, The Prince of life found something blooming in his heart. Aside from obvious desire, for she was by far the fairest maid in all the lands, the prince found her wit and charm the most alluring, love growing in his heart for the woman so cold to him. Gathering her up, the prince took her back to his castle, where he had the finest healers of the kingdom brought, yet none could melt the ice from her heart. Only the prince’s pure love could do so. Each advance she spurned, yet drop by drop, the ice around her began to melt. The prince’s smile, his laughter- she commented how when he looked at her, it was like seeing roses bloom. So dangerous with their thorns yet beautiful all the same. The prince adored his maid of ice, and slowly, she came to accept his love. So it was, that the prince had begun to melt the maid of ice, turning her to a witch of heart, his heart. Looking at what she had written, Solia made a face. Sugoi as ******** work here was done.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2012 9:36 pm
There was the sound of waves. The sky was a clear blue, melding on the horizon with the vast open sea. Salt and brine, it overpowered her sense of smell as she looked down at the jagged rocks below. No one was there, but it was lacking in something. Something. Something human. There was a soft warm wind at her back, as if saying it would be alright to jump, that she could do it. That it wouldn’t hurt. She’d not have to worry. Just jump, spread your arms- and just… jump. The wind would catch her, and if she didn’t hit the rocks he’d still find the sea. She’d still end up alright. A step forward, and there was no one there to stop her. Why stop someone dressed in a white summer dress, with little light blue sandals, a wide sun hat of straw with a ribbon of yellow. She looked fine. She’d been smiling. She’d always been smiling. Just keep smiling. Then maybe- maybe she’d be okay. She could do anything. She was old enough now. She was a big girl. She could do it. Just jump. The warm wind at her back, the cry of seagulls in the background. The man that had been hired to babysit her nowhere to be found. She’d left him miles behind. Lost him and gotten on a tour bus. A trip to the coast. No one would think of her. She’d just… disappear. Two steps back, the wind at her back getting worse. A few more steps back. No one was around. She was alone. Just how it had been. Just how it always had been. It was better this way. It was better. A running start- She fell. The wind did not catch her. She felt her wings pushing, pushing at the wind. Trying, trying to catch it, trying so hard to go up and not fall. Arms in front of her face- Darkness. The water around her. She spun, her body sliding under the waves like it was born for it. Here it was not so hard to fly. Her wings caught waves, using them to help her go up and down. She was lighter here. There was no wind at her back here. Here under the waves she could relax. She would need to go up for air but until then she could swim. She could see the colorful fish darting by. They swam to get away but she was faster. Her arms were long enough, tiny sharp nails digging past their scales to get at soft flesh. One fish, two fish. Red fish- blue sea. All the fish were red. Blood filling the space around her as she bobbed her head up. Gathering them she brought them to the shore, yet no one was there. They were gone. She couldn’t fly. She couldn’t get her wings to do what she wanted. So they left. The warm wind was gone, her small all too white wings falling by her side. She’d tried to fly. She’d tried to reach up for the sun, but she’d not even gotten close. At the very least, she’d missed the rocks. Carrying the catch to the field of flowers she looked around. They had gone. Gone away and left her alone in her shame. She’d failed her test, they didn’t want her. They didn’t want her, the girl who could see shadows. Returning to the rocks she got to work, ripping off scales and skin. Picking bones clean, tossing them back out into the sea. White seafoam crashed on nearby rocks, hiding the white bones you couldn’t see from above. Bones that were worn down. Broken and turning to sand. The waves his the bones. They hid the dead. Maybe that was why she’d been left behind. Because they thought she was dead, she spent too long in the sea. Wings gave a small flap, testing the still, unmoving wind. Nothing moved. Nothing changed. Returning to the meadow, the bright rainbow of blossoms made her smile. Yet the roses were still just tiny buds. Tiny blue buds, not even in bloom, climbing up a rock face. She climbed to get up, ignoring the thorns. Ignoring how the dug into her skin. When she found her bed it was just like she left it. Small, tiny. Stuffed animals all in a neat little row. There was no dust. It had been cleaned before she’d arrived. She pulled off her sandals. Set her sunhat on the child’s desk. The bed was too small for her. Too short for her body. It was all made for a child. A child that had left when they had barely been 10. Solia wasn’t a child anymore. She climbed back down the rock face, went back out to the meadow, the sky dark now, and filled with stars. It had been a long time since she’d slept under the stars of her home. /dream solo
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 6:08 am
He made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long while. As Solia wandered Desu ex Machina she wondered why she’d begun to feel them. The butterflies. Nervousness at the idea he might see her, she might see him. He was sweet to her. Kind even. He wasn’t joking with her. He wasn’t hinting to her as far as she knew but… maybe he was? Had she missed something? Going to the library was no help. And in being a death who could she trust to ask? Not many. She couldn’t exactly ask another girl what she was feeling. She knew the likely answer. But it wasn’t the right one. Asking a guy was out of the question. Guys talked just as much as girls. Plus if she asked a guy? Who did she ask? Lex? That hardly seemed appropriate. Hell, their relationship was practically inappropriate, even if they had a rather mutual understanding of just what they did and why they did it. No, Solia was stuck on her own, wondering just what the little butterflies in her belly meant when she thought about him. The first time she met him she felt nothing for him. Not a shred of emotion but the desire to be his friend, to get some training in from a friendly spar. Now? Now she was questioning if she wanted to just… A heavy sigh she set the stack of files down. Wondering what she was going to do. She had tried to just block the image of him out of her head, Hell, Israfel had even kept quite on it at her bidding. He didn’t want to upset her after all. But she was upsetting herself. Confusing her own mind with wondering if she was just over thinking or if she had legit feels for him. She hardly knew him past the few awkward conversations they shared. She hardly had any idea how he felt about her for one thing. Aside from probably, ‘that awkward death trainee who I flashed and then we spent the day apologizing to each other but it was really a nice day all in all when we kind of got over it and just hung out.’ She had spent more time with him apologizing to him than really learning anything about him. And the worth part is she wanted to learn about him. She wanted to know more than just the small little things he told her. She wanted to know more than what she got to read in his file, (was fishing and then thumbing through his file so bad? It was just basic data). Solia found herself wanting information not on Halloween, but on a guy. A guy she might like. She might like an not know why. That was what was eating at her. She got butterflies, she got nervous, she got flustered, she got embarrassed, she got… all wanty. She wanted to go sit close next time him. Maybe hold his hand a bit? See how it would feel. She wanted to see what it would feel like to press herself next to him, just side to side, leaning harmlessly against him. They were dumb, foolish wants, but wants all the same. Wants that had her blushing, the butterflies in her belly going wild. Biting her lip, she sat down, fingers running over a file name, trying to clear her mind. She had thing to sort, research to look up. Training to take. Stuff to do. She didn’t have time to sit around mulling over her girly feelings for a man she hardly knew. A guy who liked fantasy. Who didn’t seem to be all that comfortable in the underwater observation station. Yet who would still smile at her so sweetly. A guy who let her play with his sword and promised help her practice- Red flared up to her face as her thoughts went back to double meanings. To what he could have taken her words as. She hadn’t meant to imply such things but she had. She had more than once. Even if she wanted to just take his weapon and go out to swing it around and maybe… A shake of her head. Seeing a grown man naked like that still left her with a strange feeling. She hadn’t… disliked the sight of him. It had been shocking to say the least and now when she saw him. She still had that memory. Not to mention the washroom incident. She just… It was probably physical. Right? Blushing at the thoughts she tried to resume work. It was rather hopeless. If it was just physical… then why did she get the butterflies more when she thought of his smile? When she thought of baking cookies for him. A thunk as her head his the desk. Feelings were complicated.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 6:09 am
She lifted her head from the desk, rolling it to the side. Feelings were hard, and what was worse, she couldn’t just ignore them. She tried that once. It had been a bad idea and had ended with her getting insanely jealous when the guy had gone after another girl. Sure, she got over it, but it still sucked. Not to mention that here it was a bit harder to just… get away from the ones who might have potential feelings for. Her mind drifted as she closed her eyes. She liked his hair. But why? It was kind of messy. A bit long. Nothing special. She liked his smile. It was sweet and a bit shy, but it made her feel like he meant it. Like he wasn’t hiding or faking it. He didn’t force his smile… did he? She hoped not. His smile was sweet. She liked his smile a lot. She wanted to see him smile more. She wanted to see his smile when she made him cookies. What he might say to her. Maybe he’d ask her for more? She might be able to cook for him. Cook with him. Spend more time and if they ever got to leave like people said they did maybe he might- Solia sighed, opening her eyes. A sudden wave of sadness overtaking her. She was thinking like a fool again. She kept daydreaming. Guys were just… guys. You hung out with them. You had fun with them. Maybe you had sex with them but then you just hoped that was all the asked for and they didn’t demand something crazy and then you had to deal with them being actually some possessive crazy dickish bag of dicks who you had to out crazy so he’d lose interest in you. Guys were weirder than girls sometimes. They really were. Another heavy sigh she debated what she wanted to do. She couldn’t focus on her work. She kept having her mind wander and that was hardly helpful. She needed a break. A break from her own mind and her own traitorous thoughts. Maybe get some juice, a small snack. Go for a run, try to air out her thoughts. Israfel ruffled his mental feathers at her. She was fine. What was so bad thinking of the boil in that manner. She thought of naked males all the time. Why did Jason merit anything special? Israfel just wasn’t getting it. There was more to it than that. He gave her weird feelings and she just DID NOT KNOW. A groan she sat up stood up and marched herself out of the office. Paperwork could be done later. She had time. She just needed to run. Clear her head. Gather herself again. By the time she was back, Solia was more confused. She spotted mistletoe in one of the halls. Now she was slightly freaking out. What if she ran into him in there? Under there? She might have to kiss him. She might have to kiss other guys or girls but Jason was kind of worry some. A sudden flood of panic got only worse as she realized the horrible truth of the matter. She wouldn’t mind kissing him. She actually kind of wanted to. That thought had her scrambling to sort her feelings. This was a crush. She was crushing on him. She had somehow been an idiot and gotten a crush on some cute guy she hardly knew anything about and now she was going to be working and there was mistletoe in the office and what if she ran into him he’d figure out she liked him and then what oh god he’d be freaked out and want her to stay away she was a creeper she just wanted to get to know him and hang out with him and maybe just hold his hand and do stuff and just AUGH. She sat down, hitting her head on the desk again. The paper work was still there, unfinished. She’d gone to clear her head and it had only gotten worse. Because some annoying jerk ward had to go and be festive and all holiday-y and pin mistletoe to the hall entryway. She hit her head again. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need to have a crush but- She did. And he was nice. And he wasn’t like… trying to get sex and he didn’t hint at anything. He was just sweet to her and shy and embarrassed and awkward and she just… He was nice. He made her smile, he put up with her being just an idiot at times. Was she an idiot? She was sure she was. Solia felt that way as she tried to get the paperwork done. Later, the mistletoe down the hall would have vanished.
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 6:09 am
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 6:11 am
A quilt was something with meaning. Something she envied the other girl having. A grandmother. A grandmother who loved her and wanted to make something for her. Solia didn’t know those feelings. She only knew what she knew. A far distant mother and father. Checks in a bank account every month. No pictures, no letters, she tried to stay in contact with them, writing to them as often as she could. Holidays, when the teacher asked them to. She tried to get something of a reply from her mother and father. Growing up she’d gotten them at first. They came with little notes. ‘Missing you, hope you are having fun and making lots of friends! –Love Mom and Dad’ ‘Merry Christmas sweetie! We hung your stocking but we’ll wait until you’re back home to unwrap it.’ ‘Happy birthday Solia dearest! Sorry we couldn’t fly out to spend this wonderful day with you. Maybe next year- Mom and Dad’ ‘Hope you’re doing well in school, stay safe.- Mom and Dad’ ‘Merry Christmas Solia! –XOXO Mom and Dad’ ‘Happy Birthday! –Mom and Dad’ Soon they bought cards messages written already, no longer the familiar family stationary. Just signed. Soon they didn’t bother to sign the cards. Then the cards just stopped coming. The money never did. They always sent the money. As the cards become sparser, the money got larger, as if to make up for what was lacking. She only saw their hand writing on papers for transfers. On checks. Yet it was still something from them. Of them. Just a tiny sliver to remind her she had a mother and a father. That they still thought about her. Even if it was just with money. She wrote once, asking if it was costing them too much. She didn’t need all that money. She didn’t buy much. Hardly anything at all. Later she got a call not from them but from a man at her father’s office, telling her that her parents wanted her to know that everything was fine and not to worry. She’d cried that night. They were too busy to call her, that it had been her father’s accountant who called her. Something so simple, to hope to hear their voices again. When others went home she just went to summer schools. Summer camps. Winters spend at the school, admiring their tree, wondering if her parents still hung her stocking. She wondered if she ever get to open that stocking. If she’d ever go home. At 14 she’d had the courage to ask. To ask if she could come home just that once. She was 14, she could fly on her own, they’d just have to meet her at the airport. Sign a few papers. She had all her money saved up. She wouldn’t be a burden. Just for a few days maybe. But they didn’t reply. Just her father’s secretary. They were busy. Please don’t harass them, they were under a lot of stress. They didn’t need any more, not right now. Ask a bit later. The secretary was so blind. Telling her to try later. But Solia had been trying. She’d been trying for years. Years and getting no results. She didn’t look 18. She could have gotten a fake ID. But she wouldn’t have passed as older. Not for a few years. She looked 16 at best then. At 16- at sixteen she’d made a mistake. A mistake and the school wanted to see her parents, that they would have to fly in. It was the first time she’d see them in several years. Granted it was for punishment, but she’d see them again. She was excited, the first time in years to see her mother and father. She wanted to meet them at the airport. To greet them, show them the campus, her friends, the city. But she was denied. She was under house arrest after all. No leaving campus. She could greet them at the gates. But they didn’t come in the front. They went in the back, as if trying to hide. As if ashamed. She wanted to see them. Called into the office, her mother wore the emerald necklace. The one Solia got just like. There was no greeting, just orders to sit down as her punishment was laid out. Solia hardly heard the principal talking. Brown eyes fixated at her parents. They didn’t look at her, and when they did, it was a look of pity, of remorse. She smiled back, and when the meeting was over. “It was nice to see you Solia. Maybe if you behave you can come visit us over Christmas.” Her mother’s voice was weak, and her father only had a “Stay safe.” Before he got in the car and drove off. It was the last time Solia would see her parents.
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Posted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 6:24 am
She was sitting with the other girls by the main doors to the school. Snow storm. Three feet of fresh powder. Likely to freeze overnight. Three feet of ice. No one was looking forward to it. Not even Solia, who often picked on a silver lining. The girls sat on the chairs by the window, faces close to the glass, fogging it up as they measured how high the snow wet in comparison to the school. Jokes on how they would all freeze and then need to eat each other. If they did, Solia was going to eat one of the skinny girls first. The fat ones would last longer for preservation purposes. Or something. Either way twigs were first in her mind survival wise. Still, it was a real danger. The boys had been sent out with teachers to go buy firewood just in case. Girls were to stay in the school and work on making dinner and getting emergency beds ready for the homeless. Good community service stuff like that. Help out the ones who needed it most. She didn’t mind but on break- they gathered at the doors, waiting for the boys. She just was waiting for one. They’d gone on a date. A real date too. He was sweet, getting her flowers even. Offering her his arm when they walked. But he was also a brute. Throwing snowballs at her, teasing her lightly about how she hated her ear touched but had a hat that didn’t cover them properly. Erik was sweet to her. A thing Solia wasn’t used to. So when the boys came back, she looked for him in the crowd. It felt odd to wait for him, look for him. But she wanted to do it with the other girls. She wanted to be… something for him. Maybe not his girl friend but even if she could just be his friend, she’d be happy. He made her feel a bit normal, if just for now. When she looked for him she never could see over the other girls, and it was him that found her, a small tap to her shoulder before motioning that she got get back to work, the sister in charge coming down to yell at them for ‘giving into temptation’. Really they’d given into nothing. There wasn’t temptation, at least not the kind the sister was talking about. Not as far as Solia could tell. Stuck in the snow, she slept the night easy, waking only once to hear that the power had gone out, to keep all the windows covered. Solia just curled up more with her blankets, noting the socks she was keeping by the bedside. The first bells of morning, and the air was cold in her room. Roommate naturally blamed her. As if Solia could control how the power went out. The dorms had generators but only for the kitchen and common rooms. Meaning that likely girls would be sleeping in the common hall to keep warm. Nothing big, she wondered how the boys fared. After mass, she found they fared no better, Erik telling her how the guys were being stubborn in a show of pride, saying the cold was nothing. Personally he thought them dorks for it. After all, turning down warmth for pride was a bit dumb. He asked how she was doing and she told him fine. He asked if she was cold. When she told him yes, he didn’t bother asking, unwrapping the scarf around his neck to put around her own. She blushed at the action, a few girls and guys catching sight of it. Whispers of just if she and Erik were an item. Blushing she said thank you ask he told her no problem, pink in his own face. They decorations that day, getting ready for the holidays after classes were over. Then the girls made the food for the shelter in the church while the guys made the beds up. They had to keep the pipes running, else they might freeze and burst. It made sense, but why waste it on doing laundry day a day early Solia didn’t get. Still it gave her time with him. A week and a half she’d known Erik. A week and a half and later that night when the lights were turned on, when it was free time, he pulled her aside in the library, asked if she wanted to go out again. That he wouldn’t mind being her boyfriend if she didn’t mind being his girlfriend. Bubbles from her belly to her head she told him yes. It was so simply done. It was sealed with a soft kiss before he pulled back, just as unsure as her. Three days trapped before the boys went back out. It would be four before Solia would go on her second date.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 6:57 pm
I loved you once. I loved you in another time. In another world. I loved you though a lens, crafted with envy and guilt and shame. I loved you through the looking glass, through a carefully crafted lie I conjured up. I loved you like I loved my stories. Like I loved my heros who's feats made me think mine were so small, that my troubles might be washed away by romance. That you could make my fears vanish with your smile, with your touch. I loved you so much that it hurt. That when you said it was over I wasn't sure we'd even really begun. I loved you once. On a cold december night when you smiled at me, alone in the library, a thermos in hand. You broke the rules for me. You broke the rules with me. You kissed me. You held me. You took me to your dorm room. You told me you loved me. That you'd stop if I wanted you to. But I was scared of what'd happen if I said no. So I said yes. I said yes over and over. I never said no. No would be the end I feared. No would mean the death of what had begun. But it wasn't a No that killed us. It was me, me and the mistake of falling in love with you. I loved you once. I loved how on the fresh snow you made a heart with your foot prints for me. How you called my name from down the hall and waved at me. Even knowing that the nun would scold you, that the metal edge of the ruler would bite your hand. I kissed those hands. I kissed the red lines until they faded away. I kissed them until they stopped coming. You stopped waving at me from the hall. You stopped calling my name. You stopped at some point, and I was too much in love to see it. That you'd stopped loving me. I loved you once. The way in choir you'd look at me from the boy's side, how I'd look at you. Chalk tossed at our heads, the giggle of our classmates as we were told to focus on lyrics we didn't understand in latin. Was it the laughter I wondered for a while. The words they hurled at me? Did my past haunt you like it did me? Did it make your afraid? Everyone is afraid of something. I was never afraid to dream. To dream of you. Of a life with you. You made me feel like I was normal, special. You made me feel like I was loved, that I made someone happy. You gave me hope for a life outside those wrought iron fences. Outside our plaid and pressed uniforms. You made the snow seem warm when after we sang you'd pull me outside to steal a kiss under that old pine tree that his us from everyone. I loved you once. The valentine's day we spent walking in the park, hold hands, getting tacos from a street vendor, on that day I loved you. The taco was so fresh and full of spice I burned my tongue. You got me milk tea though you lost your wallet on the way back. We searched until the sun had set, looking for it. Yet I didn't regret it. I spent my day with you. I didn't mind the punishment for staying out so late. I was with you, and that was all that mattered to me. I loved you once. On that night you got your car and we drove all over town, it made my heart beat so fast. You made me feel alive. You made me feel like the world was at my fingertips. That now we were so unchained. I didn't say no when you asked if we wanted to go to a party. If I wanted a new outfit. I didn't say no when you asked if I was okay with another guy there. I was still so afraid. I loved you, I couldn't say no to love. Love would never hurt me after all. I loved you even after we drove back and you told me how you didn't realize I was like that. I loved you once upon a time, a long long time ago. A time when all I wanted to do was make you happy. A time when I was young and afraid. Afraid of saying no. Of saying goodbye. I loved you even when you stopped answering my texts. My calls. My smile and the way I'd say you name. I loved you even as you stopped looking at me. I loved you once. Even after you said goodbye, I loved you. I loved you once. I loved you, until you broke my heart. And called me 'monster'.
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 7:03 pm
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 5:56 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2014 10:03 am
She tapped at her computer screen, the names and images of students filtering in, each one with various bits of data about possibilities, about possible weapons. It was all very detached, very separated from emotion and meaning and feeling. The files did little to draw any emotional resonance. Something she felt was lacking. Something she felt was needed in the process. Maybe she was wrong, but the idea that a weapon from a student needed to be handled with a metaphorical medical glove to prevent some kind of contamination seemed wrong. Weapons were objects they used, trusted. Showing a potential such distrust before they had even joined the cause? Solia sighed to herself, putting the pen to her upper lip and holding it there without her hands. Brown eyes went over the various 'subjects'. It really was just something a bit too... disembodied. Israfel cooed in her head and she leaned back, pen falling from her upper lip to the floor below. It wouldn't do, this method. Not for her anyway. She wanted a strong foundation, for 100%, not a paltry 80 or 90. The hard part was just keeping everything in order for the order, for formalities. As death she'd have to keep that image, that idea of being un touchable, unfazed, unfeeling. Difficult. Her eyes narrowed as a finger scrolled down with the mouse, hovering over the name she knew deeply. IsrafelJust Israfel, he had no last name, none they knew of at any rate, and his file was filled with a good chunk of sizeable data. The downside was most of the data came post his weaponization. Post his 'wakening' and bond to her. It was interesting to her, to see how well her own weapon was kept track of. How after a certain period the weapon was simply allowed to exist and no one paid any mind to it. After all, once weaponized, few cared what happened to it so long as it got used and proved unproblematic. She leaned back again, picking up her fallen pen from the floor. It bothered her as well. Sasha and her talk had opened a new line of thought- that bloodlines, that relations could indicate possible weapon traits to be an almost prerequisite. In their case, song, singing. Nona had once sang, Israfel sang now as he likely always had- Picking up the papers from her desk Solia looked at her hand and the blue rose ring. She'd worn it on the left out of simple necessity. When practicing with non hunter weapons a ring got in the way of the drawstring. With her weapon the motion of drawing out the body of the bow was faster when done from her left hand over her right. In her head, Israfel never considered it, nor, had she. It had just been an action taken to make life easier. Streamlined. Yet the fact she wore the ring on her left struck her then, on which finger, on how she wore it everywhere, yet no one questioned it. Married to your weapon. The phrased suddenly made her feel uneasy. Israfel understood why quickly enough. Their bond would never end, not until death. A true death. And even then Israfel might be passed on. Would he go to another Delacroix? Would his song touch another of her bloodline by the simple nature of her line? To what degree did it bare signifigance? How did a weapon attune or key into such things? Was FEAR somehow encoded into DNA? Was it somehow linked evolutionary, adaptively? As Solia stood in the office, silent, papers in one hand and eyes focused on her ring, she sighed again. She was death, life was not in the division of her apparent blood line. An anomaly. Perhaps a sign that such things were mere coincidence. Perahsp a hint that bloodlines and that which would bind them became weaker each generation. She didn't know how close she as Sasha were, or even if that claim was fairly true. It was made in haste yet- too many things matched up. Too many things pointed to the distinct notion that it might be real. The trainee had few she could ask, and the resources she needed were not yet available to her. Important information was sealed for a reason. So why then did it bother her? Why did this idea, this notion that a weapon, a bloodline, somehow aided in finding hunter candidates. In finding possible weapon candidates? It bothered her because it wasn't a choice. It was something you were born with. Something that no matter how one might have fought, it was bound into you, into your very core. She wanted to save people from the life she'd lived. The mockery, the shadow of an existence, the illusion of a life. How did you save someone if they had been born like her? Destined, genetically inclined to feel FEAR? Solia left the office, thumb brushing over the ring on her left hand.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Mon Feb 24, 2014 9:13 pm
Solia rolled onto her side, eyes closed, the music playing out of the small speakers and modified laptop soothing despite the music itself being electronic, her mind still on her daft punk kick. She stared at the screen, the colored lines moving with the notes played. Default setting. She spent a few minutes alternating the media player visuals. Bars. Waves. Circles, spires. It ended up back default once she'd cycled through them all. Everything came full circle. Everything always did it seemed. Israfel crooned softly as she pondered that fact, her wall clock ticking away in beat with the music the sound that somehow grounded her, kept her aware just how much time was passing her by. Reaching out blindly with a finger, the music ended abruptly. Solia rolling over to look at her clock, she watched each second tick by, 60. A full circle. Gingerly, fingers went to her wrist. To the brand that had been put on her. She was quieter than she might have normally been really, music or the sound of work typically a constant hum that echoed from her room. Now just her clock ticked away, counting down the time. Counting down time wasted as she debated what to do. What to say and how to say it. How did you tell someone you liked them, yet knew nothing about them? Solia had been going over Jason again and again in her head, wondering how to tell him that she'd like to maybe go on a date or two, know him better. But it ended the same way in her head each time. With her getting embarrassed, her wanting to just take him to her room and just be near him. Enjoy the sense of company. Of having someone. Having without having to feel. The thing she'd had for a long time. Now she felt something and she feared what it would start, where it might end. Things came in cycles. In roundabouts. Chained, all linked together by one thing or another. It made things difficult. It made emotions difficult. Not just emotions either. Solia wasn't getting anywhere with her work. She filed papers. Hardly a way to move up in the ranks. Yet this was also in a backwards way her gift. That she was fairly unremarkable, unnoticeable. She was the Bilbo to the Smaug that was Deus in a sense. It didn't know her, so it couldn't fit it her into any one place, any one category that had been there before. She just worked. Filled space. Did a job and moved on. Filled her time with meaningless drivel. A cog in a machine, unable to change how things worked. How everthing functioned. How even if she wanted to, she'd never get what she craved most of all. And end. An end to meaningless fighting. To pointless bloodshed and hate. FEAR was fear. It was life and a natural occuring reaction to a threat. It was a threat. People were afraid to FEAR. To fear is a fear itself. Poetic, yet ironically the most true for hunters. Fear is what powered their enemy, yet fear is what kept them going. The fear of the end of day, the fear that gave life and breath to their greatest foe. A pattern they had woven in time, an endless cycle that they often blinded themselves to and forced themselves to ignore. Israfel's profile was perhaps the more ironic thing she'd read. She'd almost cried after, in his light, his that gem he'd shared just so briefly before his own death. He'd seen that cycle. He'd become aware of just what it all did. What it was doing. He'd perhaps, been the one of his kind to even comprehend the vast implications of it all. That they were trapped. That the escape would require something new. It would require change. It would need sacrifices. And sacrifice he did. He had a family, a people, a purpose. He had a love, friends. Still he gave it up. He'd given it all up on the off chance he'd make things better and now as Solia looked to the clock she wondered if she'd done the siren any justice. Anything close to merit his decision so long ago. Things moved in cycles. Things moved even if you didn't want nor will them to. As it stood the cycle continued. Israfel just a ripple in a pond. She wanted to break free of her own chains. To do better. To change perhaps how things were done. How they might alter the game, the fight, the war, to their favor while not harming what already existed. Yet how. The ultimate question Solia kept asking. The clock stuck a new hour. Solia sighed outloud, turning her music back on, fingers running lover her scar. She needed to start somewhere. Maybe Jason would be a good change for her. Maybe feeling something, loving someone, would be a good change for her.
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