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 Posted: Thu Aug 26, 2010 2:26 am
 [Under the Sun]
Who: Everybody who's anybody!
The beautiful one...Pasha, she was so nice! I wish I could have stayed
longer to speak with everyone. I even missed my chance to speak with
the Doctor.
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Posted: Thu Aug 26, 2010 2:32 am
[Cultural Expansion]
Who: Doucette and Koree
That woman was very interesting, but I never saw her again.
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Posted: Thu Aug 26, 2010 5:11 am
It wasn’t that she was anti-social, but always feeling a little apart from others, Doe didn’t want to feel hemmed in by apartments and condos. Her home might not have been large, but it was roomy and comfortable, and the pugs were never happier than when they could chase the waves at all hours on their private beach.
Home was here, not matter how the storm tore at the bushes.
A shower had seemed the appropriate thing to do at the time, the promise of a hot soak overwhelming with the depressing sight outdoors. Now she was back in the kitchen, watching with that sort of sick awe you get when a car accident occurs but you can’t look away.
As she toweled life back into her full curls, Doucette thought about this “perfect storm” that seemed unable to leave Gaia, or the news reports. It seemed unrelenting, almost unnatural in its ability to continue one without tiring. Where exactly had this storm gathered all its strength and how could the clouds still pile the rain upon the landscape with such unrelenting force?
Dolce came over to her lady’s ankles and gave a sad whimper. Their time indoors had been significantly increased as well, and the pugs found that they didn’t like the storm. The desire to be outside and enjoying their time was an overwhelming instinct for the dogs, and yet every time the door was opened so they might relieve themselves, they were practically thrown off their feet and into the woods surrounding Doe’s home. The Irish woman now had to tie their leashes onto them and attach it to the porch in order to keep her pugs from hazard.
Thankfully, neither of the girls liked the weather and were quite quickly ready to be let back in after only a moment in the wild rain.
Doe sighed as she looked down at her poor pug. “I know...” she said, crouching down and playfully tossing her towel over the pug’s head and giggling as Dolce whined and attempting to roll around to get it off of her.
Gabby, hearing the commotion, rushed into the kitchen on her little paws and dutifully attacked the towel with gusto. She was there to save the day after all!!
So little did the threesome know about the significance of the storm itself, or of what it was bringing with it.
Somehow in the middle of the rain and the low thunder, even the pugs missed the sound of approach and the three of them were caught off-guard when there was an unmistakable rapping came upon the front door. It was definitely a knock of a hand, of a person begging entrance; not that of a tree branch scraping across in its new journey around the island buffeted on the breeze.
“Who could it be in this weather?” Doucette muttered with a frown, tossing her towel onto the back of her kitchen table chair and moving into the foyer.
A silhouette of a tall figure could be seen just out of the window, huddling against the torrent, but little else could be distinguished in the dim light.
“Can I help you?”
“Actually, you can,” said the cold voice as the man with golden red curls matted wet to his forehead as he pushed himself into his sister’s home, closing the door on the raging storm and smiling at the thought of the new one about to begin.
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Posted: Sat Aug 28, 2010 6:44 am
He reeked of stale liquor mixed with the wildness of the storm outside, and she didn’t want it in her home! With ears laid back she jumped at his leg, catching him off-guard and sinking her teeth into the cloth of his jeans and just grazing the skin enough to draw some blood but hardly grievously injure him.
If only she was a stronger/bigger dog!
“Wot de ********>” Liam’s harsh Irish accent rumbled as the dog attacked him and he gave a swift kick at it to detach it from his leg and attempt to throw it across the room.
A high pitched yelp mixed with Doucette’s gasp as Gabby was thrown from the man’s leg to the other side of the wall, sliding into the wall in a none-too-gentle manner.
That really smarted!!
With a whimper Gabby pushed herself back up onto her feet, readying herself to re-launch herself against the intruder but finding herself suddenly swept into the strong arms of her lady.
“What’s wrong with you? Get out of my house!”
The pug could hear the fear mixed with resentment in Doe’s voice and she licked at the pale chin in the most comforting terms she could before turning her face back to Liam with a growl.
“Oi, 'tis me gaff nigh, innit?” Liam said with a wide, evil grin, tucking his hands into his pockets and slouching in a nonchalant manner.
His pale blue-gray gaze scanned over her home with an appraising eye, snorting at some of the more girly, stupid things that would naturally find themselves in the trash come morning. “Needs some werk done, don’t it?” he snorted, pulling his pack of cigarettes from his pocket wrapped in plastic to keep them dry in the storm, which in all fairness penetrated pretty much every dry spot on his person and was now emptying thick streams of water and dirt onto her nice, white carpet.
Gabbana didn’t know what they were saying, but she didn’t like the way Doucette’s arms trembled around her, or the way her eyes seemed to flash between fear and irritation. And that man! What was he doing lighting that thing in her home? Gabby hated the smell of cigarette smoke and had always liked the way Doe smelled so fresh and nice, and now this man was going to foul the room with his stench!
The pug began to squirm and whine between angry yips, but her lady refused to put her down. “Hush Gabs...he’ll be gone soon,” her lady’s voice came soft and cool to the pug’s ear, calming her only slightly until she head the man’s laughter across the room.
“Yer daft if yer tink oi'm leavin'. Ain't yer recognized me yet sis? Oi'm 'ere for sum gran' auld fashioned bondin' time wi' family! Or didn't Roisin tell yer aboyt me? Oi wus quite sure she'd be on de dag an' bone in a matter av minutes ter 'er super speshal precious Doucette.”
The man sneered as he mentioned Doucette's name, and promptly chucked down his half-smoked cig and with the tip of his boot ground it into the soiled remains of the welcome rug.
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Posted: Sat Aug 28, 2010 7:05 am
“Dolce, get away from him,” Doe hissed from across the room with Gabbana in her arms.
Dolce looked up at the man once more before turning to trot back over to her lady when she was quite suddenly grabbed by the scruff of her neck and lifted uncomfortably up to face level with the disheveled and wet man. Liam puffed a bit of smoke into her face before giving Doucette a sick smile.
“Yer nu, oi really tink dis wee wan wud prefer it if oi stayed 'ere. Don't yer Dolce?” The hand tightened on the back of her neck, uncut nails pinching her flesh and making her yelp in pain and squirm in a grasp too strong for her tastes.
“No!” Doucette’s voice was choked but Dolce couldn’t see her, her whole sight was filled with the man’s face and his cold, cold eyes that were blue, but so very different from the warm depths of Doe’s. “Please, leave my babies alone...don’t hurt them.” Liam looked away from Dolce and to the curls that so closely matched his own in all but shade of red.
The pug watched as his smile turn from mischievous to contemplative and then straight into what was clearly not friendly.
“Oi chucker wot oi want in me own 'ome.”
Dolce heard his voice and felt his fingers uncurl from her neck and the strangest sensation of flying before she felt something connect with her back and a shattering sound mixed with her lady’s voice screaming and coming closer.
But things blacked out before the pug could think any further.
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Posted: Sat Aug 28, 2010 7:53 am
How brotherly he felt when he watched his sister on her knees, tugging at the form of Dolce and attempting to hold both of her dogs in her arms while the one that had bit him struggled furiously in her arms. Seemed that even in her tears, Doe was smart enough not to let the other one near him.
“Oi don’t like pets,” he said, taking a long drag from the cigarette smoldering between his fingers, a little moist where he dripped on it but burning well enough to get that addictive hit he’d been living off of since pre-teen years.
So what if her dumb dog was dead? His life was just a forward motion of death and destruction in his arms; ******** her for being so soft and well raised.
“What do you want?” The way her voice caught on her sobs lifted his spirits and he reveled in the sorrow that was lacing every muscle in her body. She knew what he wanted, how silly of her to ask him when there was only one answer and it was so simple.
Suffering.
Her suffering.
“Oi jist want ter git ter nu me buff an' blister. Never knew each other growin' up, did we? 'tis a royal shame an' al' dat.” Get to know her well enough to destroy her. Eventually she’d go the way of the grandparents and finally he’d be the only one left, the only thing he’d wanted since he’d been 10 years old.
“Mom an' da moved yer oot av me reach, didn't they? Wus real 'ard ter keep up witcha. Ah've been tryin' ter fend yer for years dear sis.”
The red head stared up at him over Gabbana’s head, the trio crouched near the side-table he’d thrown Dolce into. “I don’t want to know you,” she said to him, venom in her weak voice that trembled and betrayed all her false bravado.
She’d let him stay. She didn’t have a choice.
“That's cowl sis! Af’er oi spent so long lookin' for yer? Oi tart we cud becum best lads. Yer nu, once yer forgive me aboyt de whole dag tin', yea?” He flashed her his best con smile, but it didn’t seem to work and he hadn’t thought it would anyway.
The more she resisted him, the better he felt anyway.
With a yawn and a stretch he moved over to the couch and threw himself down, soiled clothing an all. It didn’t matter to him much anyway, the bill wasn’t going into his pocket at the very least. Liam had heard that his darling Doe had made quite the name for herself, and with that name came a bit of money. Not that she could spend extravagantly by any means (much to his disappointment in terms of all the things his wild mind thought up buying) but he at least knew he wasn’t in danger of having to become homeless again by eating her out of house and home. She could easily take care of him and his habits, and if she didn’t have enough for herself at the end of her paycheck, well, since when did he give a s**t about her opinions?
“Oi'm starvin'. Wat is dare ter ayte in de kitchen? W’y don't yer make me somethin'? An' a nice pot av tay wud be gran’ too, w’ile yer at it.”
The red head watched as the pale freckled face shook her own drying curls, holding her two dogs in her lap now that the first had calmed down and the other hadn’t made signs of stirring (so perhaps his luck was holding out anyway).
“If yer ain't want nathin' ter 'appen ter Gabs, you'll chuk dem both in de scratcher room an' make me a feckin cup av tay.”
By golly, that got her moving, though she took her bloody time in the bedroom. Probably making some sort of little nest for the dear shits to curl up on, but in a minute she was throwing herself into the kitchen and he could hear the sound of Gabby barking furiously from the other room while pots and pans were shifted in their cupboards.
This is going to be the life, he thought to himself, kicking off his shoes and propping his feet on the coffee table. Almost like having a maid to take care of him! Boy had his luck gone up in the world just the slightest bit from living in a cardboard box on the outside of some slummy bar. This place was practically royalty compared to that crap.
When his sister finally shuffled back in and thrust the obviously hastily made sandwich and scalding hot tea at him he even managed a thank you to her, though it was hardly in a polite way. Even Doe could have seen the insult in those words.
But as she turned to leave, no doubt to go back to those stupid dogs, Liam pushed himself off the couch and sunk his hand into her hair, yanking her back against him and putting his mouth close to her ear. “An' oi don't tink it wud be smart for yisser ter be tellin' any av yisser feckin lads dat oi'm 'ere. Oi plan ter stay for donkey's years, an' oi don't want dem gettin' de wrong impression witcha spreadin' wee lies aboyt me yer wee snitch. Understood?”
When she refused to reply he pulled further on her hair until she finally managed a little nod of her head and at that he pushed her away, some of her curls still twisted around his fingers.
“An' keep dat feckin dag quiet!” Liam yelled after her as she ran back to her bedroom. In such a good mood was he that he hadn’t even noticed that one bark had turned into two.
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Posted: Sun Sep 19, 2010 10:04 pm
[A Constant Worry]
Who: Doucette and Rivener
Although I enjoy Rivener's company, I worry about what he thinks
about me. He is always in trouble, but he makes me feel like I'm the
bad one.
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Posted: Fri Nov 26, 2010 5:19 pm
Each little tick tick tick of the wood made the little twitch in the corner of his eye grow more pronounced. He could see her form, hunched over the kitchen table with her chin parked in one hand and her nails drumming out that incessant tune with the other.
"If yer don't quit oyt dat bleedin racket oi'm gonna break yer fingers," he growled from the couch, turning up the volume on the TV to try and drown her out. But she either hadn't heard him or she was doing that 'I don't take orders from you' thing again.
He had to be careful though.
The bruise he'd left on her wrist had been all too visible and all too obvious in terms of how the not so happy accident had occurred. One could not simply say they hit it when the bruise was full circle and though he'd forced her to wear a long-sleeved anything when she left the house, there was no doubt in his mind that she wasn't leaving the sleeves rolled down on her errands.
Sadly, there was no holing her up here 24/7. The b***h would drive him insane before that situation worked.
Besides, if she got fired, where would the money come from? How would they get groceries? How would he get his beer? No. Doucette had to leave the house whether he was happy about it or not; and make no mistake, he wasn't happy about it.
"Goddamnit, didn't yer 'ear me? Are ye a dense wagon? Give it a kip."
Liam pushed himself off the couch and stalked into the kitchen, gripping her shoulder hard and digging the nails in. A caring brother would have noticed that she'd lost weight since they met; but Liam wasn't a caring brother and he either didn't notice or didn't mind that his sister didn't look like a heifer anymore.
"Let go of me," she replied, trying to twist out of his grasp even as she spoke in that sad, desperate voice he'd grown to really appreciate. When they stopped fighting back verbally they soon stop fighting back physically.
Liam let go of her shoulder with a little shove that had her gripping the table to stay in the chair, "Den quit it wi' dohs feckin nails! What are ye so thoughtful aboyt anyway? Al'ye nade to think aboyt is yer next review an' ter next paycheck."
He didn't stay for the answer, he didn't care enough and he didn't think she'd tell him anyway.
Doucette however had been thinking about things other than food and paychecks. For all she would have been happy she would have never written another review in her life and lived off the land if it meant Liam would leave.
She was now too scared of him not to write glowing reviews and spend all her paycheck on exactly whatever he wanted. She was lucky enough he didn't notice she was skimming off the top to keep herself some savings, but who knew how long that luck would continue.
Fingers pressed lightly against her side as Liam moved back to the couch and his sports show, a little wince disfiguring her face as she probed the tender bruise where he'd kicked her. Doe was really hoping there weren't any cracked ribs in there, but it wouldn't have surprised her if there were.
And her thoughts? Completely centered around Riv's words from the hospital. Over and over again his words ran circles around in her mind until she cried herself to sleep at night.
How could she bring a new life home to this?
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 7:04 pm
Although her hands were shaking, Doe stood with a poise that spoke of defiance and those green eyes glittered with disgust at the man before her. The man shrugged his shoulders, broad and toned despite years on and off substance abuse and tattooed with prison ink.
Neither of them looked happy as they faced off, but he, at least, didn't shake with emotion.
"Oi'm jist askin' ya ta treat me loike family. Is dat so 'ard fer ya?"
Doucette took her lower lip between her teeth and for a moment the quiver in her hands was stilled.
"Treat you like family? When have you ever treated anyone like family?" With a shake of her head she crossed her arms over her chest, "When you ran away from mom and dad? When you set fire to grandma? When you make sure there's a new bruise on me as soon as the last one fades? You don't know what a family is. You don't want a family, you want ******** slaves."
The last words were hardly out of her mouth, still hanging in the air when a loud slap of flesh on flesh broke them off and left a gasp of pain in its wake. For a moment the man rubbed his hand against his thigh, as if the slight moment of touching his 'family' had been repulsive to him.
"Sometimes families 'av ups an' downs. Me whole life 'as been a down an' since you're me buff an' blister, yer shud 'elp it go up."
With a look that said the fight had become boring to him, Liam flopped onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table without a care for how long his sister had spent on her hands and knees cleaning the house. Or how she hadn't had the time to be cleaning since having to get a second job to support his spending habits.
There was no time for friends, no time for Dolce or Gabanna, no time for anything.
The memory of a few months previous when she and Vivi had been so excited about their Raevans was dimming with every day and she no longer thought she would be receiving one. Perhaps she wouldn't, she thought to herself with a start. Had Riv told the doctor that she would be an unfit parent? Had the doctor decided to take away the thing she had been so looking forward to for over a year now? Was that why she had heard so little recently? Or was it just the isolation imposed by Liam?
Paranoia was running rampant under those red curls.
Dolce and Gabby, sensing the trouble in the air, had retreated to the bedroom. Dolce especially had learned her lesson and even today still walked with a small limp in her step. Every since the incident with Liam she had taken to being scarce. Gabanna on the other hand still felt a protectiveness over her two women despite two cigarette burns earned from Liam when he was in a temper and Doe wasn't around to beat on. Battle scars, that's what she considered them. A few sharp barks had been given at the sound of the slap but Gabby didn't continue the noise fearing to draw too much attention towards the two of them.
Tough pugs they may be, guard wolves they were not.
Liam gave a look towards the bedroom but he didn't feel like wasting his time on the two dogs, easily catchable in the small home for when his irritation built up too high.
"Jist stop millin' me al' de time. It's easier if ye keep yer gob shut an' jist do waaat oi say."
His sister flushed at the words, but in anger instead of the usual embarrassment. "You have some nerve!" she said, barely keeping her voice below a yell, "I'm the one who works all day. I'm the one that cooks, the one that cleans, the one that shops for all the s**t you ask for. You've stayed long enough and I think it's time for you to get going."
Although Doe had done her best to keep it together, the heated speech had brought tears to her eyes and they made a slow path down her cheek. One fist had uncurled enough to point a stern finger at the door, the meaning as unmistakable as her words.
But the man didn't move an inch off the couch and her hand began to wilt as she waited. Liam was stubborn, especially when he had a good thing to exploit.
Besides, Doucette had a backbone of soft rubber with the conscience whispering in her ear that even if he didn't act like family he was still blood.
And how was she supposed to kick him out? He overpowered her by at least double and she wasn't sure the cops would listen to her story or even be able to do anything about it.
That whole family thing again.
Wrapping her arms about herself once more Doe slipped around the back of the couch and tucked into her room without another word to her brother. He had already turned his attention to the TV anyway and she had a red mark growing on her cheek that needed to be controlled if there weren't going to be any more questions at work the next day.
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Posted: Tue Dec 20, 2011 4:49 pm
[Many Different Hells]
Who: Doucette, Vivi and Shepard
Is there nothing worse than seeing people you love when you're at
the lowest point in your life? I really need to get myself together...
this isn't right.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2012 4:59 pm
The New Year passed without incident.
The girl heard from none of her friends and received no updates from the Lab.
Snow fell in soft, white blankets on the beach but she seemed not to notice any of it.
This year would be different though.
She had promised herself it would be.
Already she'd started down a new path; a better path.
The New Year would not be wasted.
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 11:05 am
A slight groan escaped Doucette as her forehead hit the book with a slight thump.
“Givin’ up already, are ye?” the satisfied question drifted across the room. “Oi knew ye didn’t ‘av it in ya.”
The redhead straightened with an irritated if not determined look upon her face. Turning in her chair she faced Liam and wrinkled her nose. Anyone watching could almost have thought the two of them were actual brother and sister – two human beings that cared about each other but bantered and teased out of love.
But there was no love between these two.
The only thing they shared were their features and even those were like night and day. There was Liam with his dark, rusty red curls and eyes a rich navy blue, almost black while Doucette was the fair, fire orange kinks and baby blues of her father.
“Who said anything about giving up?” she retorted, her voice nearly neutral in accent though being around Liam always made it just that side of Irish.
“I’ve just hardly started. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to study. And what would you know anyway? You didn’t even go to high school let alone college!”
Doucette gave a snort as she turned back to her books, willing the words to make sense on the page and filter like good little lines of text into understandable mental processes.
It had been her choice to go back to school.
An accelerated program, that seemed like the best option. Get out of jail faster, but not for free. Loans had been taken out, though nothing staggering and nothing she knew she couldn’t pay back. A little call had been made to the parents as well – very, very quietly and after Liam had left for the day. He flew into a rage whenever he found out she spoke with her parents still, expecting her to blame them in the same way he did.
Doucette was not above asking for their help though; she knew she needed it.
She knew she couldn’t continue doing what she was doing or she’d go crazy.
Food had been her passion for so many years. It still was her passion. But it wasn’t what she wanted to commit herself to.
The Irish woman didn’t have the fortitude to stand up to managers that demanded a good review, didn’t know how to turn down eating at a restaurant she knew she wouldn’t like in the first place. Food would always be what she loved, and she’s already spoken to her boss at the newspaper about writing part time when she found truly outstanding restaurants to rave about – but she no longer wanted to feel like food needed to be a priority.
And that’s how she’d decided.
Teaching.
Doucette had always been interested in teaching, in helping people open their minds to new things. And she had always loved children.
A friend had off-handedly commented that the redhead would make a wonderful teacher, and somehow the idea simply would not be shaken from the rafters of her mind. Programs had been researched until one had been found that seemed most promising. A little more expensive than some of the others, perhaps, but she had been working a second job for so many months now that she felt that at least that torture could go towards something better now.
The speed of the program was a bonus as well.
Within a matter of months she’d be licensed to teach elementary school kids as long as she passed her tests and followed other requirements of her. The hours were good and the pay, while not what she would have wanted, was more than she was making now and would make a life with her raevan (were she to ever get one) more comfortable.
Should her charge wish to attend classes, all the better!
Distracted by her mental tangent, Doucette smiled to herself, doodling a ribbon on the page but stopping when she came to the bust, unsure how to continue.
What would her charge look like? Like Zurine? Like Rivener? She had met many raevens, but she could not imagine what her own raevan would look like.
Quickly she erased the doodle and went back to her studies. Surely, any day now, she would have her charge. Her raevan.
She would be a teacher and a mother.
Soon.
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Posted: Wed Mar 27, 2013 1:24 pm
[A Tale of Two Pugs...and a Satyr]
Who: Doucette and Luka
Luka seemed like such a nice boy! I wonder if my raevan will have
anything in common with him since they are both light related...
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Posted: Wed Mar 27, 2013 1:31 pm
“Stop callin’ ‘ere! Dis is th’ last time I’m tellin’ ya!”
Liam slammed the phone back into its cradle and grumbled to himself. Some stupid French woman kept calling, leaving messages, being a general nuisance. Didn’t she understand Doucette didn’t need anyone else in her life? It was bad enough she’d found another job – found another reason to be happy. She wasn’t going to have friends too.
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Posted: Thu Apr 25, 2013 4:57 pm
[Sky and Earth]
Who: Revontulet, Doucette, Zeke and Anya
She's here! My beautiful, amazing raevan has finally arrived!!
But why is she so quiet?
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