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 Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 2:46 pm
 Cabbage:[solo’s]
01|| An Introduction of Elizabeth and her curse.
-- La mort, je ne vous crains pas parce que vous êtes beaux--
02|| A meeting between old friends, and the beginning of motherhood.
--Un Cadeau se séparant --
Child: Closed Rp:
03|| Kaleidoscope eyes || Casia
Solo:
04|| --Ma Petite --
05|| --Le café dément --
06|| -- Papillon d'Obsidian --
07||--la petite génoise individuelle tambourine--
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 2:47 pm
01|| La mort, je ne vous crains pas parce que vous êtes beaux|| [... up until now]
They were happy; it’s funny how the terrible happens to the happy ones, but the outcome was inevitable. Elisabeth Symphony Mort loved, with such enthusiasm and passion, that it was enough to kill. No it is not what you would think, she did not murder, on the contrary, she was merely herself. Gordon Doyle Mort knew the consequences to falling in love with a Lindsay woman. They were destined to live a life of solitude, and all that interfered either died an untimely death, or went rouge and murdered her. Gordon suffered from a random heart attack while driving.
[...now]
Elizabeth stood amid around fifty people dressed in monochrome colors, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she stood before her early husband’s coffin. It was a beautiful day, it was as though the thermometer would not go above or below 72 degrees, and the skies were clear with white fluffy clouds, and a sparkling sun. On days like this there was nothing that could keep Elizabeth, but now it seemed there was nothing that could keep her outside. Oh, but there was one thing, she had to speak to the crowd. It was the glory of being the widow. She cleared her throat as the people around her grew restless gently she moved through them to stand on the other side of her husband’s body.
How odd it was to think of Gordon as a body, but if she thought of him as he was alive, she would surely go insane. Well now was a better time than most, for she had to speak of him as though he lived. All apprehension evaporated as she stood amid people sharing equality in her pain, for they all knew what a wonderful man Gordon was. The crowd quieted as she stood before them with controlled features, even though every single one of them knew that it killed her inside. The first step is admitting something was wrong, and she was not quite capable of that yet.
She spoke in her purring alto aloud for the first time since they had begun; her accent was slightly audible, meaning usually that she was extremely tired. Elizabeth hated her voice, it just drew people in, they naturally listened to her, liked her even… but if only they knew that they were flirting with death.
"My friends, and family,
I must stand before you and tell you about my husband, but where ever do I begin. How do you sum up the life of a great man at his death? I shall try, and most likely fail. Gordon Doyle Mort was probably the only human being on this planet that could understand everything you were saying without words. He did not have that human need to fill in silences, in fact I thought he loved the silence then speaking to me sometimes; [she paused for the small chuckles] but that did not bother me in the least. We loved more than most people will in their lifetime, we spread our waking days into nights where we would stay up and read to each other. He was the only heterosexual male that I have ever met that had as much style as I. What can I say about Gordon that we don’t already know? He was an open book, who cared for his friends and was polite to his enemies. Everyone liked him, even those that hated him. I find that now, I can’t think of a single person that he did not touch in some way. [Elizabeth was now unable to stop the tears] and yet it is I who stand before you, inadequate to describe the life and heart of my love.
I leave you with this parting word, hold close to what you love, for you never know when you may lose it. La mort, je ne vous crains pas parce que vous êtes beaux.
Thank you all for coming." ||death I do not fear you because you are beautiful|| Total~ 695 words
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Posted: Sun Jun 14, 2009 7:42 pm
02|| Un Cadeau se séparant||
[…up until now]
Elizabeth had hardly been able to leave the house. The voicemail box had long remained full, and she found it difficult to do the minimum of daily activities. She had fallen victim to the depression that had killed many women in her family. It took a long while for any to find out if she was even dead or alive. With the help of friends she was reborn from her ashes and flew forth to a new life.
After selling her home she found one day a message on her voice mail. Another of her family members had died and left her their home. Quickly she left the space that was once her and her husband’s and went forth to her new life.
[…one month later]
Elizabeth slammed down her keys once inside, the heavy bags weighing down her arms. Her phone screamed from inside, with the annoying sound most old phones contained. She barely missed the call, and from the other room she could hear the ending of the message.
“Gordon…” her heart sped up immensely. “Have something for… come Wednesday… 1523 N. Griffin Avenue.”
She vaguely recognized the masculine voice… but with how broken up the message she was could only make out her husband had left her something and she had to go get it. Either this was a very sick trick or she was getting messages from the dead.
[…Wednesday]
She stood at a bridge, the address clearly written on the plat before it, but nothing else. Elizabeth made her way to the center of the bridge trying to keep from crying, her hopes now diminished. The tears made ringlets in the water; she laid her head on the cool metal staring at the rings expand and break. All the woe in the world could not equate to what she was feeling. Caught up in her woe she did not have her senses open enough to hear the “clap clap” coming from the entry to the bridge.
“Miss Mort, it has been a long time.”
Elizabeth jumped at the voice and spun to meet her old college professor, the person that introduced her to Gordon, and the person that introduced Gordon to his death. His appearance never ceased to amaze her, from the goat legs holding him up to the floppy goat ears. In her opinion he was beautiful, but to many women he was less than a man.
“… Morpheus…” Her words were choked with tears as she reached for him and buried her face in his furred chest. To many they would only see a man and a woman hugging, for Morpheus was wonderful at glamour, a fae magic, but to her it was the comforting fur that calmed her and took away her tears. Only then did she feel the cold pot on the back of her shirt.
“W…wha...” she managed before he put a finger to her lips and smiled that typical satyr smile Pan was idolized for.
“It’s a surprise, and a present from Gordon. He made me promise to give it to you. Said it’s something you won’t be able to kill no matter how much you love it.”He held her while she sobbed for awhile and walked her home, cabbage in hand.
[… The next morning]
Elizabeth turned over and stared at the cabbage in her bed… Wednesday had become a complete blur. Her dream consisted of her being a handed a cabbage by her husband, which rotted in her hands the moment she touched it. Quietly she dumped her water into the pot and went back to sleep. What ever happened next was up to the gods.
||A parting gift||
total~ 614 words
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Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 11:39 pm
03|| Kaleidoscope Eyes~ || Casia ||
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 12:30 am
04|| Ma Petite||
Elizabeth was outside when she heard the crashing and screams protruding from her open garden door. She stared at the house with distain, knowing no one but the cleaning lady was inside, brought Elizabeth to her next problem, where to hire a new maid. Sighing heavily Elizabeth took a swig from her hot coco. The dappled sunlight caressed her pale complexion and brought out her golden red eyes. Knowing damn well that the morning chill would wake her up more than any cup of coffee she found herself standing there, staring at the house in wait for something to happen. But what?
Five seconds after the disturbing realization she was waiting for something Elizabeth’s maid ran out of her home screaming at the woman in another language. With her broken up Spanish Elizabeth was able to make out a few words of the woman’s rambling.
“Quit. Demon. Bite. Ghost. Plant.” In the chronological order she was able to make out the words they made no more since than the rest of the quickly uttered words. She nodded as if in complete understanding and went towards the house only to hear a frustrated scream behind her. Turning back she saw the maid leave. Good riddance, she had enough crazy people to deal with on sets and such.
It was only later that she realized her maid was anything but crazy….
The house seemed normal; clean even as she entered unbeknownst she was being watched. Thinking of the last word she could decipher Elizabeth headed to her bedroom in search of the mysterious cabbage, for that was the only plant she knew of in her home. To her dismay she found that no such plant existed in her room any longer, simply a shattered pot on the ground. Desperately she tried to think of what her professor had mentioned to her, but instead found a blank space in her brain. Deciding it would be best to question the satyr over the phone she quickly dialed his number.
After three rings the phone went dead, and when she attempted to dial again the phone made no noise at all. Shaking she set down the receiver and peered under the bed at where the cord connected to the wall. Sitting there staring at her was a child.
“H… hello there.” Elizabeth uttered barely audible. She looked into the eyes of the girl, and found herself incapable of looking away. Her arms lifted against their will and the next moment she was cradling the creepy child, but all she saw was the most beautiful being imaginable. The girl cuddled against her new mother’s bosom happily, breaking eye contact. Elizabeth suddenly came to, now understanding the jumbled words of her maid. The girl must have come out of the plant, justifying the broken pot, Demon indeed. What she didn’t understand was ‘bite’ and ‘ghost’ and she wouldn’t understand that until Bellatrix smiled.
The girls teeth were like a normal humans, save for two wicked looking fangs protruding from her gums. That left Ghost to be discovered, and when she thought of it only one answer came to her head. Gordon. Gordon saying to the professor as he handed him the cabbage that this was something Elizabeth could not kill with love. Possibly because the child before her could not love.
“I think… I will call you Bellatrix.” She said whilst the name stuck in her head.
“Oui.” Responded the girl, and stood up to face her new minion.
.....
........
Their relationship would be a interesting one.
||My small|| total~ 590 words
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 2:53 pm
05|| Le café dement|| The sun had just begun to rise as a harsh scream tore through the home. Rushing upstairs Elizabeth found Belle fast asleep, but trembling feverishly. She reached upward as if drowning and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the girl, as though shielding her from herself. The shaking stopped and the breathing quieted as Belle awoke in her adopted mother’s arms. Crying heavily she began to speak.
“C'était sombre et ils se coalisaient contre lui.... J'ai essayé de le sauver ... mais il est mort maintenant. Il est MORT!”
French being the only language Elizabeth had ever studied she understood what Belle was saying.
“Who did you try to save?” she asked the girl while rocking her back and forth.
“il n'a pas d'importance maintenant, il est mort.” Belle buried her face into Elizabeth’s arms, which seemed to calm the girl.
“Can we go somewhere?” Bellatrix asked, uttering her first English words that morning, it seemed as though the French had become her safety net, and she only spoke in French if something was terribly wrong.
“Sure sweetie, where would you like to go?” Elizabeth was petting the girl’s disarrayed curls now, keeping her calm.
“Shopping please, I want to look at stuff.” Thinking of the possibility of a mother daughter day made Elizabeth extremely ecstatic, she had been meaning to take the girl to the costume closet at the studio, but had not been able to get her out of the house; now seemed to be the perfect opportunity for such an occasion.
“Yes, we can go, and I’ll even let you pick out a new outfit, but first you need to brush your hair and put that dress I found in the attic.” Belle simply nodded and stood up on wobbly legs. For being so young she was an independent creature, always set out to do what she pleases. Elizabeth watched her now, brushing the thick curls down her back, as she tiptoed out of the room.
She dressed quickly, and was at the door just as belle managed to get down the stairs. She was lovely, but even Elizabeth noticed that pink and white lace did not fit the girl. Belle seemed upset that she had to wear such a dress and walked over to Elizabeth, taking her hand and feeding her calm.
It took them a few hours to get to the studio, but when they were there Belle was amazed by all the different colors, and cloths, the textures as she touched them seemed to override all her other since, and her happiness was almost breathable. Bellatrix clung to Elizabeth’s hand with glee. It wasn’t the cloths that interested her but the fabrics. She seemed to circle around the black lace, and the red satins. When she finally picked out two of the many she handed it to Elizabeth.
“Please?” she asked, and caught Elizabeth off guard with the politeness in her asking. Silently the older woman took the fabric from the girl’s short arms and held it close. Already the different possible designs flitted in and out of her head and she grinned, she finally had a little girl to dress up. Belle headed over to the trinkets and jewls to find something that fit her personality. Immediately when she picked up the cross she screamed and dropped it. The thing was glowing pure white.
When Elizabeth dropped the fabric and rushed to her child, she could only make out a faint white scar on her palm. Belle stared at it with dismay and started crying. Elizabeth wrapped her up into her arms and picked up the fabric… it seemed the fun was over in this trip. While walking out of the store room she picked up a pair of patent leather shoes that fit the girl well.
Belle slept the whole ride home, and Elizabeth had to carry her to her room. When she looked, the scar had disappeared from her hand. That night she stayed in bed with the girl to comfort her in her dreams.
|| The lunatic cafe ||Total~ 673 words
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Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2009 11:49 pm
|| la petite génoise individuelle tambourine|| It was midnight when Elizabeth awoke, nothing in particular brought her from her dream, just the nagging feeling of being alone. Belle had been able to control her dreaming to an extent now, and seemed to want to sleep alone, though every morning Elizabeth would find Belle on her bed and telling her the prophecies of disaster the girl was gifted with, it never failed. The woman relished in the normal routine of her day, but longed for the company she once was gifted with. She found herself standing on the balcony of her home staring at the gardens below her and the full moon above. The silk night robe billowed around her as she bathed in the unearthly light. She closed the glass doors to her hideaway and pulled out a leather bound journal and began to write.
|| Sometimes I feel there's a hole inside me where he once resided, an emptiness that, at times seems to burn. I think that if you lifted my heart to your ear, probably you could hear the ocean. The sky tonight seems to be as vast and empty as my being. Goddess Selene predicts trouble not far behind, for there is a ring around the moon. If only he were here to guide Bellatrix, I often fear I am failing to be the proper mother she deserves; I fear I am unworthy of anyone but the ghosts of people that once held a piece of my heart. ||
She quietly set down the pin and Journal, and walked to Belle’s room. The girl’s small black wings lifted and fell with her soft breathing; not wanting to disturb her Elizabeth quietly shut the door and went downstairs to observe the mess from the night previous. Belle had been the belle of the ball (no pun intended) at the family reunion, everyone seemed to instantly love her, just as Elizabeth had done herself, but yet she could not find a babysitter for the girl, not one that would stay anyway. As though some strange deity had read her mind, Elizabeth walked into the kitchen to find the most absurd looking thing she had ever seen.
It sat at her table, reading yesterdays newspaper and sipping tea. What the hell kind of dream was this? Had she crawled through a rabbit hole or fell and hit her head? She observed quietly, trying not to disturb the-whatever it was from its reading. It had long red hair with various braids, a monocle, a top hat, and a scarf… but of course that was not all. The thing was covered in soft (or it looked soft) pink fur and had cat ears. From this distance she could not see if it were a he or a she, but giggled uncontrollably as she remembered she had made pink cupcakes for the night before. Could this … thing be made from cupcake batter?! That was impossible. But then again so was having a little girl who could not hold a cross and had wings. She sighed softly and looked around the Kitchen, at least it was clean… a small blessing but a blessing all the same…
If it was made of cupcake batter there was no way it could be that dangerous so she sat down across from the creature and poured herself tea.
“Mind telling me who you are?”
“Why I merely responded to your want ad in the paper miss, I am Bellatrix’s guardian.”
“Oh.”
"you may call me Lunesse."
||cupcake batter||
Total~ 580 words
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