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 Posted: Mon Mar 10, 2008 7:48 pm
 >>Fate<<A male's voice spoke up. Something she hadn't been expecting. It took her mind a few minutes to register who had answered her. The only person she could put a name to that voice was Eric. With a hand trailing along the wall for support, she made her way towards him. Taking in a few breaths, she calmed herself down.
Letting go of the wall, Fate slipped into the kitchen. "What do I.. need?" The last word sounded so foreign to her. She needed a lot of things. One of them though, would not be help at the moment. She hitched up her pajama bottoms and ran her fingers through her hair. She didn't bother to put on her usual attire of 'normal' clothes. She smiled at him and shook her head. "Nothing. Just wanted to ask if she needed 'elp with something."
Leaning against the wall, she slid down it. The girl pulled her legs closer to herself and closed her eyes. Oh if only she was a child again. Someone who didn't have to worry about anything or everything. That would be a dream come true. But here she was. A cold hard b***h with no faith in love. It was something hardly anyone knew about. Especially besides the other things she did in her spare time, Fate would make bets on how long some marriages lasted. Then there was her thing with guys. They had to be the closest thing to perfect. Musicians? Not allowed. Anyone messier than her? No go. Small things like that. She cracked an eye open a fraction and looked over at Eric. How was it that he was so cheery in the morning?
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 12:26 pm
Bella tore her eyes away from the passage she was reading and looked to the door the gentleman walked out of. She sighed faintly and closed the worn bible, slipping it back into her bag and hoisting it over her shoulder as she slipped into the room. She had an air about of her control and gentleness, as if she could command any troop but instead of using an iron fist would wield a tender smile. She held her head high but kept her eyes level and a soft smile on her lips that left her grounded. She was no overly righteous woman, she was just someone that knew how to command a room and lead it in the right direction. Her blond tresses swayed behind her in the limp ponytail it was pulled in, framing her face in a soft halo.
She was a curvy woman, not squeezed into a small frame but gifted with wide hips and a shapely form. She had meat and life to her, making her ethereal features much more real. She turned peach tinted eyes to Justin and let her smile grow even wider, reaching from ear to ear. Despite her woes she maintained a glass-half-full mentality. Though her stresses were growing evident with the tightness in her slender shoulders and the small start of circles beneath her eyes. She carried the weight though of her trials well, keeping them hidden from those she thought shouldn't see them. Bella held out her slim hand to Justin and said, "Hello Mr. Beltran, thank you for seeing me at such a short notices. I didn't know who else to turn to."
Oh how old did that sound? How many people came in here saying the same thing she did? She sighed and lifted a hand to toy with the prominent cross that hung from her neck. She smiled once more at him before setting her bag down and taking a careful seat, smoothing her skirt out as she did so. She collapsed her hands onto her lap and studied the lawyer that she was reaching out for. Would this man be her savior? She had heard of him through the grapevine and thought that maybe he was the one she was suppose to turn to. She didn't believe that God just handed out answers all willie-nillie, but she knew that if you asked he would answer. Maybe Justin Beltran was the answer to her prayers.
She threaded a strand of wheat-colored hair behind her ear and sighed gently, "I heard of you from a friend, you had helped out her sister. I thought that maybe you could help me out." She lifted her gaze, a fire burning behind it with a determination to survive whatever it was that was trying to cripple her. It was fierce and powerful and held the glorious light that would blind the darkness that was slowly enveloping this world. She held Justin's gaze, never faltering or looking away in fear and sadness. She would survive this, one way or another.
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Posted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 11:31 am
Justin stood when the woman entered, and reached out to take the proffered hand; before he could, however, it was withdrawn. "Not at all," he said smoothly, but raised a dark eyebrow, then gave a mental shrug and sat down in his own chair, flipping open her file. He scanned over it--he'd previously given it a more through read through, of course-- and looked up to meet her eyes squarely. Peach eyes? That was enough to make him blink, but he dismissed it almost at once. She probably wore contacts, though he'd never seen that specific color before. "I have to say, it seems like you have a very strong case, Ms. Castille." He flipped the file shut again. "So, you started this orphanage a year ago?" He knew she had; it was in the file, along with all the pertinent facts of the case, but hearing it directly from the client always gave a more complete picture. There was only so much you could put on paper, after all.
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Posted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 4:55 pm
She didn't wear contacts. It was actually a rare birth defect, if you could consider it a defect. The color was lovely and vibrant, like the setting sun set ablaze over an open desert field. With that soft lining of black lashes and the dainty amount of make-up she wore, her eyes seemed clear and lively. She nodded her head and said, "Yes, I opened it a year ago after I had finished school and tied up all loose ends. I wanted to establish a place for the children of the area to go, those with out parents and those just seeks a safe haven when they had none." She spoke with soft earnest, her passion flowing into her words. She looked up at the other and smiled softly, "I'm glad you think I have a case, I was afraid you wouldn't. Things have just gotten so terrible over there. I thought I could handle it with out seeking out legal help, but I just can't."
She sighed heavily and finally let her shoulders sag faintly, "If it isn't protecting them from the gangs, it's trying to keep them safe in their own home! It isn't fair for the children of the orphanage to come home and half to worry if someone will come in and shoot the place up."
She never knew life like this. Back at her home town the most disturbing cases came from when someone got a little to excited at the local tavern. No deaths. She shook her head. Her accent was heavy and punctuated each syllable; a deep southern draw. She rolled her head back up to look at Justin, "What is it we can do to stop this? I tried speaking to the company, but all they want to talk about is prices for me to sell! I'm not going to sell!" She blinked, realizing she was getting slightly worked up. She softened her gaze and once more fiddled with the cross, "I'm sorry, you don't want to listen to me rant."
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Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2008 7:32 pm
((So, Im going to post later tonight hopefully, Because I'll end up starting to watch Harry Potter. Blahargemy. This is all I could rummage up in the time.))
Danica Dequenne lazily shifted her position on the now uncomfortable mattress; there where spots where it sank, and others where it dug into her back, and she was nestled lazily between the two. It had always been like this, waking up with back pains, her head throbbing from a hangover; nature’s way of telling her that she wasn’t right for what she’d been doing, and punishing her for it. She lethargically moved her way off the bed, shifting her feet onto the cold floor, the still-warm blankets spilling out to the left and right of her feet. She pulled them around her like a shawl, and continued her ‘routine’, scavenging for food where she could find it. The room smelled of apples and cinnamon, she didn’t quite understand why, as much as she detested the smell of apples, she just couldn’t get rid of the odor. Lifting a frail hand to clasp a drawer on her night-stand, she pulled it open and gingerly sifted through the trash that usually accumulated in drawers, coming up with a small matchbox. She took a match and struck it to the side, quickly lighting a small candle she kept beside her ‘nest’. Dequenne returned the matches to their rightful place of disarray and continued out of her room, assuring herself that such a small flame could not sprout a fire.
Making her way down the winding halls, she fumbled with the shawls, tripping over herself a few times. ”Belladonna?” Her frustrated, tired voice chimed out as she held her head, shaking the haze out. She wasn’t one to use full names, but she usually used them when she was ‘out of it’ in her own words. The covers spilled onto the floor behind her as she continued moving, sliding her feet across the floor in a noisy manner. ”Nahh.. Screw it.. I’ll find the bathroom on my own.” Holding her sweat-moistened face, she tried a couple of doorknobs, the second of which opened to the familiar tiled room. Making her way to the toilet, she came up with a small bottle of pain killers from beneath it. She thumbed the cap off and threw a couple in her hand, dry swallowing them and returning the bottle to beneath the toilet in its plastic baggie. Now to find the kitchen Her mind’s gentle montone voice whispered out, ushering her down the hall past familiar doors, and across the chasm of a hall.
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