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 Posted: Thu Jun 05, 2008 7:12 pm
{Purchase Roleplay} - It was pouring outside, and showed no signs of stopping. Anyone that wasn’t protected under a sturdy umbrella was no doubt to get soaked. Sara trudged through the rain at a slow pace, stumbling as someone bumped into her as they were running. She dropped to her knees, right into a puddle – splashing all her clothes. Not that it really mattered; the things were tattered and worn anyway. She slowly got up, looking down to see that her knees were a bit bruised through the holes in her jeans. She shook her head, continuing along her way down the dirty sidewalk.
Then, through the thick smell of garbage there was another scent – one that completely overpowered the other. She cocked her head up at the sky, noticing a sign: Solace Scents. It sounded pleasing, a place that wasn’t like every other – only concerned about profit. It… cared about it’s customers. The scent filled her lungs, and put into her a deep trance, lulling her into the shop. Though… she supposed that she needed to find some shelter while she waited for the dark blanket of clouds to pass.
She pushed open the door, a swift blast of warm air hitting her. She didn’t realize that she had been shivering or cold until she had entered the shop. Sara looked around, eyeing all the different burners – yet, it was odd – she could only smell one. As if… all the others were simply too weak, too weak to break the tight grasp this particular one had upon the air. Air, a commodity that is so easily attained and molded to fit the wishes of the most powerful, most elusive. Her dark brown eyes flickered from oil to oil, her eyes soaking up the colour as her nose tried to seek out the scent. The scent got stronger on stronger as she neared it, and the faster she hurried towards it. It seemed that there was no turning back, no walking away – even if she wanted to. The scent had just as strong a hold on her as it did on the air. Finally she found herself face to face with it, completely paralyzed. It was red. She almost thought she was staring at a pool of blood – hers, just sitting there. No... that couldn’t be right. She blinked, seeing that she was indeed wrong. It was the colour of a poppy.
She gently picked it up, holding it with care, walking off to the counter, though she couldn’t feel her feet touch the ground. Nonetheless, she soon found herself at the counter – a woman was behind it, a smile on her face. She began to talk, and Sara gave a slow nod, fishing around in her pocket for the appropriate amount. She took everything out of her pocket and laid it out on the table, scooting the coins over towards the shopkeeper. Olivia? She believed she had mentioned that name as she had been digging as far down into her pocket as possible. She bit her lip, realizing she was a bit short. She reached her hand into her other pocket, pulling out a bus ticket. She snatched the oil from the counter and dashed out of the store before the lady at the counter could protest that bus tickets didn’t count as money substitutes.
The rain beat down against her skin as she exited the store. She hurried off to the bus stop, seeing that a bus was fast approaching. She hopped on, smiling brightly at the driver as her hand swam around in her pocket for a ticket. However, there wasn’t one – she had just bartered it away. The driver calmly directed her out, and she realized she would be making the long trek home in the ever pouring rain - but she didn’t care, the soothing scent clutched tightly in her hands made her forget about it all.
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Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2008 11:32 am
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... particularly with the smoke...
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Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2008 4:27 pm
{Lighting Prompt} The rain had subsided by the time she had arrived home, but by then she was completely drenched. She sighed, slowly unlocking the door and give it a strong pull with one hand so that it would open. She veered her way inside, shutting the door behind her. Home. No, she was merely in a place that kept a roof over her head… She could soft footsteps across the floor, and saw that her feline companion had chosen to greet her arrival today. Patches – dubbed because of the olive patches on his fur. “How nice. It isn’t very often that you make your appearance known to a mere mortal like me, is it?” She said serenely as she took off her jacket and placed it in the closet. The cat stared at her, then sniffed the air – something was clearly off. He jumped back as the scent entered his lungs, hissing violently. “Oh, don’t be like that. I haven’t even tried to pet you yet.” She said, moving past Patches – who tried to lunge at her. She was used to her cat being rabid, and just generally demonic, but today he seemed a bit more bite friendly then usual.
Sara made her way through the dreary hallway to her room, pushing the door open which caused a small creak. She shook her head, pushing her wet bangs out of her line of sight. She squeezed the oil burner in her hand to make sure she was still holding it and hadn’t dropped it when she had made her getaway. She collapsed onto the bed, giving a sigh. What need did she have for this when she was merely trying to make it by day by day? This was a luxury that she shouldn’t have let herself have. Oh, but why not? What else did she have to live for if she didn’t let herself have these small pleasures? It would soothe her mind…
Ah, perhaps she should put it to good use right away. If she didn’t use it now she would probably just stash it away and never want to use it because she would deem that it was only for use of a special occasion. This was a special occasion, wasn’t it? Perhaps… perhaps it would help her write. She’d been meaning to get around to it, really, she had. That novel, the one that would solve all her problems… No longer would she worry about money, no longer would she be cooped up in here. First, of course, she would have to continue selling away the smaller pieces that she came up with to whoever would buy them. And considering she had squandered away her last pennies on this, it was only about time that she would have to produce another one.
She slowly eased herself up to a sitting position, and opened her bedside drawer and extracted a match. After a few tries it was finally burning, and she proceeded to light the oil burner. An invigorating scent filled the air and she gave a pleasant smile. She placed it on her bedside table and got up, heading over to her bookshelf. My, there were quite a few books she had yet to read, maybe… No, she had to work if there was to be any more money to her name. She took her leather bound notebook and scrambled to find a pen – Patches loved to play with them and so it was very often that she would find them underneath furniture. Oh, a pencil on the floor! She snatched it from the ground and then lay down on her bed and began to write.
Well, she tapped her pencil against the crisp white paper for a few minutes as she pondered what to write. She inhaled, letting the scent fill her lungs. It… made her happy, despite knowing how urgent it was to write… anything. And then, her hand began to write on it’s own...
Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation
She felt herself suddenly more awake, as if she had given a couple cups of coffee. Well, perhaps not – coffee never seemed to really do the trick. She continued to write, aggressively scratching the pencil against the paper.
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
She stopped writing for a just a second, a moment to look up – the smoke from the oil burner was dancing around the room. No, there were two smoke lines… And they were… fighting? She gave a quiet giggle, and tried to keep her eyes on them and they whizzed around her. Or perhaps it was merely her head that was spinning?
Silently the senses abandon their defences
She turned over so that she was now on her back, watching the smoke beat against each other, twist and strangle the other… So waggled her finger at the smoke, breaking the path of it – though in moments the path that had been broken was broken no longer. She then scribbled down a few more words.
Close your eyes,
She then closed her eyes, and with slow pencil marks she etched the last few words, letting the darkness consume her.
And surrender to your darkest dreams
Her skin was warm, as if the sun’s ray were touching her skin. And then she felt cold, as if Death’s skeletal hand had grazed her skin. She shivered, her breathing growing quicker. Her hands twitched, and began to shake – causing her to drop the pencil that she was holding in one hand. Her eyes snapped open and she gave a shriek, violently throwing her leather bound notebook across the room.
She wrapped her arms around herself, and gently rocked and back forth. Everything would be alright.
Wouldn't it?
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Posted: Mon Feb 09, 2009 5:31 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 of 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 child 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: Sun Mar 01, 2009 6:20 am
{Awakening Prompt} A door creaked open, “Patches, I’m home…” A voice murmured entering the room. Dull eyes scanned premise, and she saw no cat in sight. “Patch? Come on, you better not be hiding just so you can lunge at me from behind!” She said and gave a crooked smile, with a nervous laugh, which quickly settled. She took off her worn coat and kicked off her shoes, heading off to the kitchen and on her way picking up Patches’ bowl of food.
She replenished the bowl and put it back, and on her way to the kitchen once more she saw a liquid trail of some sort. “Oh, Patch, all the work you make for me…” She said quietly, examining the trail once more. It didn’t look like…
She followed the trail, into her bedroom. Her eyes first landed on Patch, who seemed in one of the oddest states she’d ever sense – complete peace. Her eyes then wandered over to the figure sitting down – a child. Her first instinct was to step back, but her sudden movement mean that the child… whatever it was turned it’s eyes to her, giving a soft hello. It drew her in, made her not want to be afraid. It was almost ordering her not to be. But even her common sense was not so easily overcome. She could smell a strange scent in the air.
She took another step back, in utter disbelief of what she was seeing. This, of course, only caused the child to stand up and take a step towards her, it’s eyes wholly innocent as they stared at her. Perhaps the first and last time they would ever be. “No… you’re not supposed to be here…” She said in horror, her eyes widening. The child’s expression changed, to disbelief. “I…” A voice began, which would have surely charmed her into putting down her guard if the voice hadn’t cracked. It tried again: “I’m supposed to be here.” He said as-a-matter-of-factly, taking another step forward, his scent marching forward as well, now flowing through her lungs.
Her breathing rate shot up but everything else in her seemed to come down. She dropped to her knees and tightly embraced the child. “You’re here… you’re here…” She sobbed, “Se…ph…” And the child gently patted her head, but it was not as a means of comforting her, but merely to reinforce his control. His lips curled into a smile and he gently hugged her back.
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Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2010 10:56 am
[ Journal Entry - Seph ]
Dear …,
I’ve been told that I should address you as ‘journal’ but I’m not writing to you. I’m not writing to anyone. Sara said that this how a place where you can pour everything inside of you out. I don’t see why I need that, since I already know what’s inside of me. What is the point of wasting paper on it?
It’d be more interesting to write… stories. Sara has let me read some of her books and it seems more interesting to write about more interesting things. Better things. In her books I’ve read about magical creatures and grand cities and more agreeable people. People that I just read about and don’t have to deal with. And more then anything else I can control them – I can just put down the book and then they’re gone. If I don’t like anything I can just shut the book and then it’s done.
That’s kind of how things are with Sara. I can’t make her do what I want, but I can stop her from doing what I don’t want. I don’t know what this power is but I guess it’s because I’m a ‘Scent’. I came from oil… I think that’s what one of the people I met said. And we smell like our oil, apparently. And we came from a store! All of… us. I don’t want to use that word because there is no ‘us’. I’m me, not them. I don’t know what or where that store is… I’ve asked Sara but she doesn’t seem to have a clue about it. Or really about any of the bits about oils and Scents…
Sara is… I don’t really know what I could say about her. I’ll use a… a metaphor (she had to explain to me what it was when I saw one in a book). She’s like a glass of water… she seems empty but there really is something there, you just don’t know what it is. When I first… met her… well, she was empty. There was nothing really there. But she got better, a little, but she would still be empty for the most of the day. But things are better now, I think. She’s more stable when I control her but she’s… happy, just that. Submissive. But without my control she’s unpredictable, as if anything could trigger a reaction.
Either way it doesn’t seem to matter much to my freedom.
I live for me, and me only.
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Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 6:26 am
[ Journal Entry - Sara ]
Dear Journal,
I’ve given him a place to write for his own and he seems to be fond of the leather bound book I gave him, though it’s a little worn. But I guess a better term would be well loved. Well, I guess that makes everything in this house well loved, then. I told him to pour everything out on it, because after all, a book is the best friend you could possibly have. It’s doesn’t judge, is unwavering and would never whisper your secrets. I think he’s quite taken with it and I’m happy for him. Do I sense another budding author in the family? I knew he’d approve of what I do, creating stories and opening up one’s imagination to the impossible…
Oh, here I go on a roll again!
But it’s nice to see him writing as well as reading – how else does one become a well rounded individual? Hm, it almost sounds like there’s a pun in there. Still, he should get out more. But I guess every parent says that about their children. But no one’s perfect. Seph is sharp – razor sharp if I remember our meeting with a darling little girl. So much more mature for his age. He probably gets that from me.
Still, it seems he’s growing right up! He gets a little moody sometimes, like any budding teenager does. Oh, I can hardly believe it. Still, I know that everything is going to be hard for him soon with all those hormones raging. But I remember that being a teenager was some of the best times of my life and that I’ll support him no matter what.
Well, I guess I should shut the journal now before I spend the rest of my day writing!
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Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 9:03 am
[ Journal Entry - Seph ]
Dear …,
I’ve done more reading then writing in the past few days and I’ve found that in every story a character’s life doesn’t mean anything until they found where they’ve come from. Otherwise, they’re empty. Now, you’re probably thinking that means I have to find out what Sara’s back-story is but that’s not my concern. It’s mine. I don’t really know anything about where I came from except for the fact that I was bought in a store and started out as oil. That really only sounds half as crazy as some of the things you read in books – being awoken by a lightning strike or even coming out of another human being.
Sara doesn’t seem to know a thing about where I came from, bur rather like it was like I was always part of this household. The only other thing I know is that the owner… worker…. of the shop is called ‘Livia. I don’t really know where to start looking for her. From what I’ve seen of the city it seems huge and it could take forever to find it. But in books it seems forever isn’t really so long, so I guess I shouldn’t be too worried.
But what I do have to be concerned about Sara. I can’t very well take her with me while I go search so I’ll have to leave her here. And without my ‘power’ I don’t really know what she’ll do. She hasn’t ever left the house without me, but that while I was in the house. What if she leaves while I’m gone and just never comes back? Like that girl I met… But it seemed that the mother she had was normal and gave no sign of doing such a thing. So surely I shouldn’t worry about losing Sara.
Not that it really matters to me either way. At least this way I’d have the whole house to myself and I won’t have to concern myself with her.
After all, I’m sure she could live without me. She’d somehow managed it before me.
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Posted: Wed Aug 11, 2010 1:07 pm
[ Journal Entry - Sara ]
Dear Journal,
I don’t know what it is but it seems prose streams from my very fingertips. The blank pages of my journal (my other ones, dear journal) are filled with words. When I hold a pen it seems like a fever overcomes me and that I go into a trance and nothing else seems to matter. All that consumes is words and imagery and… My, I’m getting worked up just thinking about it. Do you know what I’m talking about, journal? As I look through these pages and the scrawls I know that you’ve endured it. I don’t know what’s inciting it but I know better then to lose this opportunity. It’s been… awhile since I’ve felt like this, like every word means something.
It’s not often I feel that, like they’re more then just words on a page, something that can set you free. Usually I only have that chill when I read, that this world is not the only one there is. That there’s something else outside that window and that you don’t have to keep your feet on the ground if you don’t want to.
I wish I could harness it, whatever it is that’s fuelling the fire in my heart. But I know like all good things I have to just run with the opportunity until like everything else, it turns to ash…
Oh, that’s sounds all like a little bit of rubbish now. After all, good things stay with you for the rest of your life. Perhaps writing comes and goes but you’ll always know what’s important to you.
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Posted: Fri Aug 27, 2010 11:01 pm
Maturity Prompt (Required To Teach Teen Stage) Learning how to be responsible is an important part of growing up. In order for your scent to mature into a teen, they need to prove that they are capable of taking responsibility for themselves and/or others. That said, your scent comes home one day with an amazing story that shows how responsible they are. They have rescued a cat, saved up enough money to buy themselves something nice, or saved the world from an evil wizard that tried to divide by zero. Whether it was ultimately to serve themselves or others, your scent's tale will show traits of maturity that will let them blossom into angry, hormone-driven monsters that act nothing like the sweet children that you fondly remember having. Be as creative as you'd like with their story, and remember:RESPONSIBLITY, DO YOU HAS IT?!
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2010 6:58 am
Things were getting better.
A relative better, considering how he’d originally planned things. The opium musk child had found that his scent had a controlling power, of which humans were susceptible to. He didn’t like to define it as ‘humans’, as what did that make him? Inhuman? A monster? Seph didn’t like to think about it very much, as some of the stories he read didn’t make the situation any better. But all he knew is that he had ‘powers of persuasion’, a term he had picked out from a novel, which seemed to fit closest to what he could do. It had varying levels of success, but it worked best with Sara.
Sara, who had been an empty shell when they had met. And he had found that he could control with her ease, allowing himself to whatever he wished. He had roamed the city whenever he wanted, and when they were together his actions were not restrained by her. But there was still something empty about her, something restrained. But she had seemed happier. She smiled, she laughed, and she did not hole herself up in her room all day. And he had been fine with that, with the emptiness, as long as he had been allowed to do what he wanted. But with every Scent he had met, they seemed to be quite attached to their guardian, even to ones who had abandoned them. And he had not quite understood why. So slowly, he had allowed his hold on her to release, to let her fill the emptiness with who she was.
So she had changed, slowly but surely. Those small, fragmented pieces that he saw of her began to truly develop, and she was not simply the glum or complacent individual that she transitioned to and from. She was once again a person, full of personality just like the characters he read about in books. But more importantly then all of that is that she was his. He had told himself that he would never need anyone else, that he never wanted to feel helpless like he had in the beginning, when he had been nothing, immaterial. But maybe it wasn’t so bad.
Hand in hand they traversed the city, with no destination or goal in mind. Ever so often Seph would look her, a small smile gracing his lips as he watched her. Sara was smiling, nearly glowing compared to the lifeless shell she had been. And it was all because of him, because he had come into her life, because he had… allowed her to be who she used to be. But in revitalizing her and then loosening his grip, the instability was also peeking out, though he could not see it. He could not see the trouble brewing inside of her, the past that had restrained her before.
But for all that had changed in Sara there were some things that stayed just the way they were, such as her being absent minded as she walked. She crossed the street without a second thought, and Seph didn’t think much of it until he could a skidding sound close to him. The next few moments seemed like a blur – the shocked impression in the driver’s face, the urgency of the hurtling metal vehicle towards them and the last ditch attempt to shove her. She was more important; he couldn’t let anything hurt her. Gravity, ever the cruel mistress, ensured that when she hit the pavement it hurt, while he took on the force of the car, sending him to the ground as well. His body shook from the trauma for the pain, but he forced himself to sit up, his worry for Sara overcoming all of that.
There was a blank expression on her face and she was shivering. “Are you alright?” He asked through gritted teeth, hovering over her as she lay on her back on the sidewalk. Nothing changed in her expression and he expected the worst, worse then the pain that pulsated within him, making him feel faint and lightheaded. The sun seemed to be dimming… “Sara…” He called out her name once more and something within her seemed to have snapped. She sat up, staring at the Scent like she’d never seen him before. “Who… who are you?” She shook, shifting away from him.
“It’s… me, Seph…” He murmured with his depleting energy, trying his best to keep himself upright. Sara looked over him, the long ears, the red hair, the missing arm and she looked horrified. “Get… get away from me!” She said, a panicked look appearing on Seph’s face. What… what should he do? And the only thing he had to fall back on was his powers. His alluring scent flooded the air, although it was weaker then usual.
For all the times it had worked in the past, it seemed that today it had the exact opposite effect. Something of rage, of fury overcome her and her eyes widened with a mad craze. “Get away from me, you freak!” She yelled, scampering up to a standing position as she watched him like he was going to hurt her, and there was hate in her eyes, like he had done something wrong. Taken something from her.
“I’m not… I’m not...!” He tried to protest, at a loss for words as he looked at her. “You’re my guardian… I’m your…” He couldn’t muster up the will to say ‘child’. But she didn’t stick around, as if the scent in the air was like a repellent. "Leave me alone!" She turned and ran down the street with haste, leaving him there.
As he lay in the middle of the street he felt like he had just lived through a scene fit only for a tragic novel.
He couldn’t make her love him.
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