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 Posted: Tue Nov 21, 2006 9:07 pm
item.Story (Writing Contest Entry)
date.October 18
stage.Nothing
Whusshhh. The faint sound of a shower filtered into the large, open space of the loft. What was once going to be the main production center of a new-and-coming newspaper now stood silent, industrial walls and floor-to-ceiling length windows never even seeing a first copy. The paper had gone bankrupt, and this third story room mocked the next person to try to fly.
When life gives you lemons, the common practice is to make lemonade, and the owner of this loft was no different than the masses. Marie-Analiese Orbase was an aspiring artist, barely one year freed from highschool, who had rented the space to try to cling to her goals. Her touch was more than apparent. One wall of the loft was covered by a humongous chalkboard smothered in colorful sketches of most anything from abstractions to realism down to a dime. The second wall, covering the length of the room, had mismatched bookshelves and thin tables, whatever had been on sale at Home Depot, lined up end to end; the shelves loaded with books and the tables with art supplies. Where the shorter pieces stopped, Marie had hung up bright posters of artists such as Jeff Koon or Dale Chihuly in the between the surface and the remainder of the eleven foot plus span to the ceiling. The third wall was punctuated by three doors; one to the main landing and stairwell, one to the bathroom that she shared with the other residents on the floor, and one to a storage closet-sized room that she had squeezed in small twin-sized bed and a large dresser.
“You are the one that lies too close to me,” rang out, a pink motorola RAZR vibrating on the end of its charger, plugged into one of the two pillars in the middle of Marie’s workroom (as she liked to think of the main part of the loft). As Here (In Your Arms) continued, the flow of water from the shower stopped, replaced by hurried footsteps. A dripping wet honey-head burst out of the bathroom, holding up a bright blue towel with one hand, a puddle in her wake. The cold air in the workroom, for it was October and the place wasn’t exactly heated, hit her like a storm. Marie, blinking in confusion for a few seconds, could’ve sworn that her four earrings, one in her right earlobe and the other three embedded in her left ear, grew colder instantaneously. She didn’t have much time to think though, as her hazel eyes spotted the moving phone. “Oh here in your arms,” sang the phone, as the female made a dive for it.
“Hello?,” she said hesitantly, as she flipped open the cell. “Hellooooo?”
“Happy Birthday Marieeeee,” sang out a youthful male on the other end.
“Jetplane!,” Marie gushed, recognizing her younger brother on the other end.
“Yeah,” replied J.A. “You know how it’s raining where you are?”
“It’s raining?”
“Have you looked outside, yet?”
Marie glanced at the windows, and for the first time noticed how much darker than usual her workroom was, devoid of sunlight due to a pouring rainstorm.
“I just got up?,” she made a half-hearted excuse. “So what’s up with the rain?”
“Well, remember how I was going to fly in today? Well, they cancelled my flight due to the storm. I’m sorry. Are you okay with that?”
She grimaced, a shiver running up her spine. “But I haven’t seen you for so long,” she began to whine, but then paused, immediately regretting not thinking first. “Wait. Scratch that, Jetplane. It’ll be fine,” she hurriedly corrected in a false “happy” voice.
“Mmmm. If you say so. Hey, you hearing from GAP today?”
“I was about to run over to the post office to check. So call back in an hour or so?”
“Sure, Sis. Talk to you later. Oh yeah, Mom and Dad say hi...”
Marie snapped the phone shut with a sigh. “What a bloody brilliant day,” she muttered, making her way towards her room. “So, it’s going to be a birthday party of one. I bet he didn’t know about Lilly. I bet Jetplane didn’t realize that I’m all alone in this god-forsaken city, in this god-forsaken neighborhood.” Nothing was new in her life, though. It had been on the roller coaster of failure for the past year, with some high points, but the ride e’er approaching what she felt would be total doom.
“At least I’m still a virgin,” she mussed, as her hands moved on their own accord, grabbing a pair of paint-splattered, worn jeans and a cute tee-shirt with a flower motif and throwing all needed items of clothing on. Dressed, she ran her fingers through her hair as she high-tailed it for the exit of her apartment, stopping for a second to throw her cellphone into her tote, grab a worn brown blazer, and slip into flip-flops that had seen better days.
If she had felt that the day could of started off on a worse foot, Marie found it when she stepped outside. The temperature was on par with that of her loft, but felt ten times worse due to the persistent rain and wind. “The only good thing about this weather,” she noted, “Is that no one is outside, smoking on my doorstep, getting in my way, being all aggressive just because I might have an extra dollar.” Slightly prejudiced, yes, but the female was tired of being harassed by beggars on a daily basis.
The water slid down the back of her jacked, seeing bolts of ice up her spine. Despite the lack of dignity, the female hunched over and ran for all that she was worth, down the gum-covered and trash-clogged pavement, until she found herself inside the nice, heated post office. Marie made her way over to her P.O. box, taking out a handful of letters, most pertaining to late or bounced checks. Ignoring the obvious misery, she leafed through the papers until finding an official looking envelope from the GAP.
Her hands shook with apprehension, thin fingers tearing open the letter and withdrawing a piece of paper folded into threes. Slowly Marie opened it to find a typed document, the seal of the GAP crowning the page. It read:
Dear Marie-Analiese Orbase,
Thank you for coming to the interview last Wednesday, October 12. We believe that your portfolio shows great potential, but it does not have what we were looking for. Your work does not correlate with the projects of our current creative team.
Sincerely,
Jeffery Golden
A numbness filtered through her bones. “They didn’t want me,” she whispered under her breath, feeling her life-line being cut. Tears bloomed, her eyes becoming glassy, but Marie refused to let any fall inside the post office. The warm interior had become cold as she internally set herself apart from the bustling strangers around her. Still in shock, the female exited the building, tucking her mail into her tote. She dragged her feet as she made her way to the nearest bus stop. Now she cried, the tears blending with the rain so that passerbys could not see her grief.
“I like where we are...,” she fumbled for her phone as a bus pulled up. “Jetplane?,” she choked, as she climbed onto the vehicle, dropping a token into meter and then taking a seat. His voice was less clear than it had been in her loft, “Yeah. I’m going to assume that something’s wrong ‘cause you don’t sound too hot. Didn’t get the job?”
“Yeah.”
“Going to the studio?”
“Yeah.”
“Say hi to Lilly for me.”
“Yea... No. She doesn’t work there anymore.”
“Say what?! Luc didn’t fire her, did he?”
“Naw. Remember how she had cystic fibrosis? Well her parents hunted her down and grabbed her a few weeks ago. She’s in a hospital in her home town.”
“Oh.,” her brother said lamely.
He paused before adding, “Why won’t you go to college? Mom and Dad will pay.”
“No. I wanted to major in art. And they want me to go into medicine.”
“You know,” said J.A. with some resignment, “That you have the brains for...”
“Quiet! Why don’t you do that instead? But noooo. You can go play hockey until your feet drop off.”
“Marie- c’mon...”
Marie put her cell away a second later, shutting it off in the process. She didn’t feel like being battered by an argument that had taken place a hundred times before. The bus slowed and she rose, slipping off at the stop. Her rented studio- with her exhibit- was located in the Residential area of town, a good half an hour away from her apartment by foot. It was still raining, but there were more trees in this neighborhood, so she wasn’t soaking wet by the time she arrived.
She paused outside of the studio, just gazing at the display in the main window. A large board stated, “‘ Remnants of the Sky’ On display: October 3, 2006 to October 24, 2006. Marie-Analiese Orbase,” in large curly letters. Behind that hung prints of her two favorite works: Lundi, an cool-toned painting depicting a flower losing its final petals, and Kiss, a picture depicting a young child sitting on an ambiguous doorstep in the slums of a city, cradling a rag doll as the metal pipes and brick walls in her background climbing skyward to dwarf her petite figure.
With a sigh, the female entered the studio. It was made up of one large room; a desk was situated close to the glass door and paintings with white identification cards hung on the walls. It was deserted except for the replacement receptionist, Rachel. “Marie-Analiese,” the women made it sound like poison. “There you are,” she continued. “Luc was looking all over for you. He wants to remind you that your bill is due next week and he won’t tolerate laziness...” Marie let that piercing voice turn into a buzz, as she looked around the place. “Has anyone visited?” “Today?,” asked Rachel, her tone annoyed at having been cut off. “Or this week? Either way, it’s a big no.”
“Thanks,” replied Marie, trying to fight the sarcasm that wanted to enter her voice. ‘Just be the better person,’ she chided herself, chewed fingernails digging into the weathered palms of her hands. “Well, I’ll be going,” she continued, not wanting to hang around for a moment longer. “Later.” The female quickly exited onto the street, her head buzzing. “This is so stressful,” she whimpered to the storefront.
There was nothing for her too do. To re-enter the studio would be to deal with Rachel. To return to the loft would be to sit around, starring at the blank canvas that had covered her floor for the past week. She was out of time and out of energy.
“I need a drink,” she concluded, heading down the sidewalk towards a bar that would turn a blind eye to her age. The rain made her hair hang heavily around her face, but she didn’t care. For ten minutes, she strolled along as if the world didn’t exist, not seeing another soul. On the verge of turning down the side street that acted as a shortcut, she paused to rest her aching knees. This part of the city was beautiful, but the stair sidewalks had a way with inhibiting how fast a person could get from a to b without toppling down something.
The wind picked up, the rain’s blows becoming more significant. Marie hunched over, her aloof exterior shattering into small pieces. A curse danced on her tongue for new gust when she smelled a delightful aroma. Startled, she swallowed her words, looking around for the source of the smell. There it was. Her optics spotted a bakery, barely making out the “Moon Cakes Bakery” inscription. Yet she was intrigued, her lust for a stiff drink driven away from her. Slowly she approached it, until only a foot of air separated her from the cheery storefront. The delicious scent had only improved over the distance and now her stomach rumbled.
A smile crossed her lips. Maybe her life was going to pieces, but she would have her birthday party of one, right here and right now. Marie pushed on the door, a bell ringing deep inside the bakery. The tantalizing aromas were absolutely fabulous, and the charming decor rushed to warm her rain-weary bones. Yes, this would do.
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Posted: Tue Nov 21, 2006 9:08 pm
item.Roleplay (Rise and Shine, Sun~)
date.November 16, 2006
stage.Music Box
location.Click here
Audley It was supposed to be early, early morning when sun was just waking and that was how the world was meant to be, but as summer was closing out it seemed that it was less and less early by the time the sun woke each day. Sleepy sun, Audley chastised as he moved with mechanical precision through the opening ceremony that running a bakery committed him to. How would he run his bakery with the same sort of cheer when the weather turned sour and grey? He supposed Annette would get him through the winter.
Thinking of her, she was still tucked away. Audley did not think it necessary to wake her when there were so few customers and he could handle the shop on his own. And it gave him a sort of comfort to know she was dreaming happily while he worked to provide for them both, to know that he could care for something without the help of anyone else. (Save Laurence, of course.) And he thought he was doing a fine good job at it also. Running the bakery, raising Annette, finally being free of the past... For the first time in his life, it seems that things weren't crumbling apart in his hands.
As part marketing part necessity, Audley already had several sweets in the oven with the door to the back rooms left open so that the scent would waft out and attract any hungry pedestrians who just so happened to be passing by, as well as to please the regulars he enjoyed speaking with so much. Thinking of regulars, he had a gift for one of them. Hopefully today would be the day she dropped by to unknowingly pick it up. Marie The muted shuffle of high-heels on pavement could be heard in the morning's quiet. Precariously perched on top of the three inch spikes, the willowly female carefully made her way down the stairs carved into some of the city's sidewalks. Her short, honey-colored hair was still damp from her shower only half an hour before and the wet tips clung to her face as if framing a picture. In fact, she was as pretty as a picture- taking into account her flowing fish-tail skirt, neat blazer, and nice tote. Except for her haggard face. Beneath Marie's hazel eyes were dark bags, a tell-tale sign of days without sleep.
As she swayed her way onto the final step before the pavement evened out in front of the bakery, she stifled a yawn, almost tripping in the process. "Whoa," she murmered to herself, reaching out with one hand to steady herself. A large, blank canvas, that she had been clutching tightly, slipped out of her grasp, falling face down. A second later she was crouched beside it, tenderly brushing it off. Worry replaced drowsiness in her eyes.
Nevertheless, swallowing another yawn, Marie turned into the bakery, a small smile instantly appearing, despite her mood, on her lips as the delicious aromas washed over her. "Hello," she called out, spotting Audley. Gingerly she leaned her canvas against the bottom of the counter, her fingernails daintly resting on its crest. Audley Rather than follow through with the polite thing to do, which would be to say hello back and ask about her morning and perhaps what she planned to do for the rest of the day and maybe if she'd be interested in lunch... Audley's reaction to her friendly greeting was simply,"Ah, how perfect!" And in his usual, nonsense-manner he immediately left her just standing there at the counter as he traveled into the back room.
This was probably a tiny bit confusing for a tired, stumbling young woman such as herself. Really, it looked like she needed a good long nap. Audley, being who he was, would offer her one here in the bakery if she liked but he did find that most often the common person still in their sane mind found this to be an awkward offer. Understandable. Sleeping in public was usually reserved for bums or very tired children.
But that didn't matter. It was time for more important things!
"I have something for you!" he called from the back room as all manner of things crashed into walls and flew through the air behind him as Audley searched with the grace of a drugged money, "if only I could remember where I put it! Forgive me, Miss Orbase, but I must give it to you today! I do not know when I will next see you, after all." Marie “Sure, Ah-ah-Audley,” she said sleepily, not managing to suppress another yawn. Her head drooped a few inches, her neck gracefully bending like a tree branch supporting one foot too many of snow. In a different world, she acknowledged the sound of his fading footsteps and urgent words. ‘Now what might be that?,’ drifted across her mind, but fragmented rather quickly.
Crash! The female heard the sound of something breaking and jumped, her sleepy demeanor being thrown off in alarm. Blinking as if waking up from deep sleep, she looked up, craning her neck as if to spot the other. Her hands moving to the counter top, fingernails nervously tapping the spotless surface. With the sounds of more fevered destruction, Marie began to eye the entrance to the backroom with a worried glance.
“Are you okay?,” she called hesitantly. “If you want I could try to stop by later?” A shiver ran up her spine at the sense of commitment she was offering. Silently she scolded herself for potentially adding another item to this day’s busy agenda. As much as she liked the bakery, and she absolutely loved the quaint place, she had zero interest for a return trip. Audley "No no!" His reply was frantic, as if he feared that she might never come back again if he let her go now. It was urgent, oh yes, life changingly urgent. If he didn't do it now he may as well never do it, or so it seemed. "I have it here somewhere! I only made it the other day; you wouldn't believe how much stuff gets moved around in such a short time though."
Audley wondered how he could have misplaced it so easily, but thankfully above his head he caught the sound the of light, quick footsteps - a sign that his awkwardly pink angel was awake now. "Annette!" Audley called into the bakery, the girl answered his summons quickly.
"Annette, did you see where I put Miss Orbase's gift? The one I made the other day." He did not pause in his searching as he queried her and soon after the noise made by his searching was made louder as she joined in. At last it all fell quiet, halted by Audley's relieved, proud voice as he announced: "Finally!"
Reemerging from the back room the blond boy brought with him two things - a bag of sweets, and a small music box barely large enough to take up the space in his palm. Unceremoniously he placed the two on the counter before her, a crooked smile in place upon his lips. "These are for you. Forgive me for taking so long." Marie "If you say so," Marie responded, still warily watching the entrance to the backroom. She silently breathed a sigh of relief, however, at the knowledge of not having to make a return trip.
As Annette joined Audley and the cacophony seemed only to increase, the female could not help but fidget by the counter-side. Every so often now, one hand would quickly reach up as if to brush a lock of hair back behind an ear. Yet, the honey strands were at such a tame level, despite natural appearances, that the repetitive motion could easily be diagnosed as nothing but anxiousness.
“Finally,” Audley said, and ‘Finally,’ was mirrored in Marie’s thoughts. She recognized the candy for what it was but blinked once or twice at the object on the countertop. Then, a small gasp of surprise burst from her lips at such a petite, but pretty, music box. “It’s lovely,” she exclaimed, carefully, running a finger down the top. The tip itched to turn the mechanism, to release whatever sound may be trapped inside. Yet, she resisted the notion, tucking it away in the back of her mind.
“Thank you,” the female amended her first statement. “And don’t worry. The wait was nothing for such a gift.” Slightly traces of rose appeared on her cheeks as she realized how childishly eager she sounded. “And,” Marie did a slight topic change, "If you don’t mind, could I please buy a mocha latte?” Audley Audley mirrored her happiness with a smile. "I am glad you like it now. I hope it will bring you some happiness in the future."
How wonderful, this encounter was a much more pleasant one than the last. When he had a particularly fightening gay man who looked ready to tear his head off. He wondered how well that one would fare...
"Ah," he blinked himself out of his wandering train of thought, "Of course. Annette, would you?"
She gave her quiet consent and smiled, setting off in her usual hurried manner running about to prepare what the customer had asked for. There was no need to rush about with Marie being the only customer in the store, but doing something without an air of urgency seemed beyond Annette when she was working. But Annette could not make the coffee go any faster than it was and sat waiting for the magic of commercial appliances to complete itself. Audley put the lid on the cup for her, since that was the one thing she could not yet reach.
"$3.25," he said needlessly as he set the drink down on the counter. Marie "Thank you," replied Marie, carefully lifting the music box and spinning it in the palm of her hand, examing item from every angle. Out of the corner of one eye, she watched Annette as the pink-headed female prepared her drink.
At the arrival of the latte, she nodded her head gratefully to Annette and then Audley. The sweet aroma threatened to make her stomach gurgle in delight (and hunger), but she swallowed down the notion. Placing the music box back on the counter, her hand disappeared into her tote bag and a symphony of clinking could be heard before it was withdrawn, a battered leather wallet held between two fingers.
Slowly, she opened it and fished out three dollars and quarter. The crinkled money, for the dollars seemed to match the wallet in age, was placed on the counter beside the latte. Just as she moved to return the wallet, a noise that made theatergoers groan in the middle of the show, went off.
"I like," was all the cellphone could choke out before Marie snatched up the device, murmuring apologies to Audley and Annette all the while. With a glance at the incoming number, her face turned a shade pale.
"Luc?," she answered hesitantly. "I'm sorry i'm running late. I'll be there in a minute! Okay? Goodbye." She had left no room for the said Luc to input a word.
"I'm so sorry," Maire exclaimed, as she dumped the candy, her cellphone, and her wallet into her tote. The music box, she handled much more gently, wrapping it in a few spare tissues before tucking it into a side pocket of the bag. Then, she grabbed the dirty canvas in one hand and the latte in the other, not running, but certinaly walking extremely quickly en route to the door.
"Goodbye," she said, before vanishing outside.
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Posted: Tue Nov 21, 2006 9:09 pm
item.Letter (To her brother)
date.November 16, 2006
stage.Music Box
With a clang, the industrial door to Marie’s loft opened. Weary was the female, but a strangely triumphant look blazed in her eyes. She gently dumped her day’s baggage beside a pillar before sitting indian-style, pen and paper in hand.
Dear Jetplane, she wrote.
I’ve had an interesting day. I stopped by the bakery and that Audley- that nice guy who works there- gave me an adorable little music box. And that was all good.
Then, Luc had to call. My lease on the studio ended today, so I was holding a final auction in hopes of getting enough to live on. Nothing was selling, and my last chance was still blank. You know, that lonely white canvas that I’ve been trying to work on for forever. Well, since no one was there besides the usual trio of Rachel (damn that woman!), Luc, and I, I went into the back room to try to pump out a half-hearted piece.
It was then that I remembered that I had tucked that music box into my bag and so I took it out to hear it. I cannot remember where I have heard that sweet, heartfelt tune before, but I swear I knew it. Perhaps as a child? Words escape me to describe it. I bet you would know it too.
Marie paused with a sigh, her hand slipping into the tote beside her and clasping the said box. Withdrawing it, she carefully twirled the shaft sticking out of it. It played.
Before you know it, I had half that canvas covered. I swear, I don’t remember where the idea came from, but it took its time coming! It was of that highway in NYC. Remember that one that mom would always speed on, even though it was eleven at night and you could barely see around the corner. One of those typical urban scenes, but it was going to be beautiful.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but then Luc was tapping me on the shoulder and introducing me to this stiff fellow. An old man. I forget his name, it was Mister something or other, but he said he liked the painting enough to buy it there and then. Talk about luck! At that point, I was thinking that maybe Audley spiked my latte that morning because surely this could only be a hallucination. And then he offered ten grand for the damn thing!
It was crazy! I don’t make that much in a month! Luc almost fainted there and then. Anyway, I had to accept and so there I was with five hundred dollars in cash and a check for the rest.
After that, I just gave up on working on new stuff for the day. The studio actually got some visitors and I sold off a few more paintings and a couple of prints. Nothing big, but I made a nice amount of cash. So I was able to pay Luc on time. And I get to open up my next exhibit in a few weeks!
Time for a new collection, eh? Call me. I still need ideas, even though I have a new direction.
Love ya,
Marie~
She stopped writing, the pen dropping from her grasp. “What a strange, strange day,” she murmured.
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Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2006 1:13 pm
item.Story (Finding of the Trunk)
date.November 22, 2006
stage.Trunk
Marie groaned slightly, rolling over in the mangled heap of blankets that mummified her willowy form, as an alarm clock went off. Without opening her eyes she pulled herself over to the edge of the springy- and sinking, bed and gamely smacked the palm of her hand around in hopes of coming in contact with the offending noise. Bang. That was the wall. Bang.And that was the dresser top. Bang. And that was the bed?
She felt herself falling towards the floor, a short drop of two feet, and landed with a muffled thumd of flesh and blankets. That damn alarm clock blared on. Marie gave up of the realtime version of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the light. The offending object was dead ahead and she swore that one of the screws in the base of it came loose as she rammed the sleep button with all her strength. And then, delicately, she flicked the plastic switch on one side of the clock- it was actually more of an alarm plastic cow, into the off position, ensuring a morning of quiet.
Shivering slightly, the female pulled herself out of her warm cocoon of blankets and rose to her feet, swaying as her muscles adjusted. She suffered from bed head, but her messy hair almost seemed to pattern itself in the cute bohemian style that so many young teens were trying to capture. She ran a chewed fingernail (and finger) through the honey strands, still waking up.
Grabbing a towel from where she had dumped it on the floor the morning before, Marie started to shuffled her way towards the bathroom. Exiting her bedroom, however, left her as lost and blinded as a deer in the headlights as gallons of sunlight simply flooded through the loft’s windows. Shutting her eyelids- her feet knew the path by heart- she continued on her journey. Her mind remembered leaving that adorable little music box from Audley on the floor the night before, and so she lifted her feet just enough to step over it and-
Down she went as her food caught on something much bigger and much higher than the petite box. “What the f-,” she began to say before the ground knocked the wind out of her lungs. “Owww,” moaned Marie, curling up in a fetal position and rocking back and forth on the floor. Curses fired through her brain and tears welled in her eyes. That had hurt like mad.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the pain faded and she sat up. Her eyes were better adjusted by this point and so she could see the large, if not slightly plain, object that she had had the misfortune to trip over. It was a trunk. “Where did my music box go?,” the female asked the air in shock.
Her fingers felt the trunk, examining every inch as her eyes followed. It could have been part of a sister set to the music box. Marie nibbled on her lower lip, attempting to figure out what had happened. Finally, she shrugged. It was too early to be bothered.
“Now what could be in this box?” Her fingers found the latch and tried and tried and tried to open it. She heaved with all her might and despite the lack of a lock, the trunk refused to budge a millimeter. Exhausted and back to her resolve of dealing with it later, Marie reached for her towel, rose, and continued on her way.
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Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2006 1:15 pm
item.Roleplay (Sing like no one's listening...)
date.November 27, 2006
stage.Trunk
location.Click here
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Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2006 4:05 pm
item.Story (Enter Chione)
date.November 27, 2006
stage.Toddler
She was standing on a pier. Where? Where is this place? She answered her thoughts, recognizing a Venice from years gone by- sunlight dancing on the Grand Canal around processions of boats. She had been nowhere near the edge- that she had been certain of, but she felt herself falling forward. Millimeters separating her horrified face from the water, her outstretched hands unable to grab anything but air, she gasped and was jolted out of time and place.
Marie softly groaned as her eyes opened to nothing but darkness, sweat clinging to the back of her neck despite the winter's cold. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, running her hands up and down her arms as if to check that she was still dreaming; once the butterflies in stomach had settled, she rolled over and cast an eye towards her alarm clock, blinkling in shock at the time. 2:49 a.m.
Why was she awake? Supressing a yawn, Marie sat up. She froze, her heart jumping into her throat. In the main body of the loft, she swore she could hear something moving. It was a muffled sort of noise, like barefeet and cloth being dragged across the industrial floor. Clang! Something out must've fallen to the ground- probably that can of paintbrushes she had perched on top of a low table.
She gulped, as silently as she could, and rose, casting around for her cellphone before realizing that it was charging with the intruder. She could almost hear her father preaching, "Don't do anything rash," to her brothers. Her brothers because she was supposed to be the sensible one. Throwing caution to the wind, she figured that she had a fifty-fifty chance of helping herself if she did something than if she waited around for that person to open the door. She had heard the stories before and really didn't feel up to the cost of an abortion (let alone the events preceding one).
Her hands closed around a metal pipe that she had shoved beneath her bed months ago in hopes of creating a junk statue of sorts. Her luck was back. With an ironic twist, of course. The commotion in the other room increased in volume as Marie opened the door between her bed and the loft. She could see nothing, even with moonlight flooding through the floor to ceiling windows. Holding the pipe as a bat, she scoured the room for any motion.
There! Behind the nearest pillar, something moving in the shadows. Her heart raced faster. Two strides, cat-esque for sound effects, and she swung, the pipe hitting the pillar with a clang that was mirrored by a cry of alarm as the shadow hastily threw itself to the floor. Following through, Marie brought the pipe up and under the intruder's chin, forcering their body back against the pillar, breathing heavily.
Whimpering came from her captured shadow (which looked much smaller now that it couldn't move). Still adding pressure against the other's collarbone, Marie fumbled with her left hand for the light switch that was embedded in the pillar a few feet up. Her nail met plastic and it clicked.
Light flooded the loft, painful tears welling up in Marie's eyes for the briefest of moments. Then, she could see and what she did see made her drop the pipe in alarm so that the rusty piece of metal landing smack in the middle of her ex-shadow's lap.
It was a little girl, who couldn't of been more than five years old. One with light brown eyes and the oddest hair cut Marie had ever seen, with brown hair cropped to the shoulders except for two
long thing braids that were longer than the child was tall. And her clothing was just as interesting, being like that of peasant from medieval Europe.
The young child cowered beneath Marie, not making a motion to remove the pipe from her lap. With a sigh, Marie crouched down on her heels so that she was face to face with the girl. "Listen kid," she started off roughly, her voice still mirroring her shock. "I didn't mean to scare you but you really shouldn't break into people's apartments at three in the morning, you know?" She picked up the pipe and lay it to one side. The girl spoke, her voice in a hoarse whisper. "I didn't break in."
"What do you mean? You sure weren't in here before I went to bed." Nevertheless, Marie rose and strode around the room, checking doors and windows alike. Everything was locked. She felt
flabbergasted.
"See?," said the girl who hadn't taken her eyes off the tall female. "I didn't!" "Fine," said Marie with a grimace, her head starting to pound from lust to return to her sleep. "But at least, who are your parents, kid? Where do you live? I mean, I should give them a call."
The girl seemed to be regaining her spunk as she said, in saucy tone, "I don't know. I was just here." Marie frowned, "Then who takes care of you?"
"You." Marie sat down hard, shaking her head. "No. I can't do that. I mean, I didn't ask for this." Trying to concentrate- and stifle a yawn- she glanced around the room just incase she missed some mouse hole in the wall that the girl could've crawled through. She didn't see anything that she missed, but rather what was missing. "The chest," she breathed. "It's open."
Maybe she was delusional, or maybe she was still dreaming, but something clicking in Marie's mind as she pieced together the girl's coloring and outfit and the box. "You didn't happen to climb out of that, did you?" The little girl nodded. "Oh godddddd," moaned Marie, trying to loop conclusions together. "Then I guess you really weren't lying. I don't suppose you have a name?"
This time, the response was negative. In the back of her mind, Marie could hear, "You can't name something you're going to abandon," chiming, but she ignored it. "Chione," she said with a touch of finality. "And i'm Marie."
She saw the little girl form both names on her lips before yawning. It set off a chain reaction and before she knew it, Marie's mouth gapped wide too. "Why don't we get some rest? I can- we can- deal with this tomorrow."
Without waiting for an answer, Marie picked her way over to the newly-named Chione, passing by the said scattered paintbrushes, and scooped the child up. She flicked off the lights and tumbled into her bed, before her eyes adjusted.
Marie felt sleep rush to meet her. And in her arms, the little girl pressed her body against hers in an attempt to ward off the cold. She smelled rather sweet.
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Posted: Tue Dec 19, 2006 4:23 pm
item.Story
date.December 19, 2006
stage.Toddler
Sunlight framed Marie's body as she paced up and down the length of her loft. Her hands fluttered together as she thought, much like a pair of mating butterflies. If the sun had not blocked out her features, leaving them part of her silhouette, anyone could have told that her lips were pursed. As it was, the way she walked- or rather stalked around- told the story. She wasn’t pleased.
Before her, on a worn couch covered with a faded flower print and paint, sat Chione. Her braids dangled her lap and her legs were drawn up under her body. Her pose was ever so slightly defiant and the way she kept shifting her weight back and forth was a huge indicator in that she wanted to go outside and play. Except that Marie rarely let her go, even onto the wide fire escape and balcony for various plants with great need for water.
In all truth, for the past few weeks, Marie had been trouble coping with the child. She had nothing against the girl, but rather the overwhelming admittance that Chione was hers was a bit too much. In the end, she had to settle for ignoring the girl as if she was nothing but a pet who consumed human food and got in the way twice as much. It wasn’t a cruel attitude, but Marie felt that acknowledging her position as a “mother” would break her like a willow’s branch bent too far.
“I need to do something with you,” Marie said at last, crouched down beside the couch so that her eyes were level with those of Chione. “I can’t keep you in here forever.” The girl frowned, “But I’m yours. I’ll... i’ll keep posing for you!” Her offer? Ah yes. Marie had found some of Chione’s antics to be paint worthy, and her collection sparked by the music box was growing around the child. So maybe the former state of ignoring Chione should be amended, for she did pay attention to the little girl.
It was just... it was just... Marie sighed, her shoulders drooping. “But I can’t do this.” Chione reached out to pat Marie’s hair- she liked feeling the short strands, and Marie shook her hand away seconds after it caressed her skull. Truthfully, from time to time, the older female felt like she had forgotten things after coming in contact with Chione, but it never happened often and really wasn’t the source of much speculation.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll try. But... You have to stop with my paintbrushes.” The chestnut girl grinned, knowing fullwell the mischief she caused by playing with Marie’s art supplies. “Fine,” she echoed in a solemn tone. Marie felt like she had just made some important bargain. “And we have to visit Audley,” added Marie. “You know,” she said hurriedly, recognizing the question in Chione’s eyes, “The guy who gave you to me. The one with the bakery.” Chione nodded slightly.
“Get ready.”
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Posted: Sat Dec 23, 2006 8:58 pm
item.Roleplay (All work and no play...)
date.December 19, 2006
stage.Toddler
location.Click here
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Posted: Sat Dec 23, 2006 8:59 pm
item.Story (Growing Older)
date.December 23, 2006
stage.Adolescent
Marie never liked sleeping alone, so in that way, she was fine with sharing her bed with Chione. Winter helped the situation, of course, seeing as there was an overall lack of heat in the apartment.
It was one of those nights where the wind that howled off the water, ripped through town. It seemed that the walls of the loft no longer existed as the cold produced violent fits of shivers. Still working at home, Marie would roll out of bed and just work in whatever she had fallen asleep in the night before. The pattern repeated at night.
As eleven approached, as the girl preferred to wake early than to stay up into the wee hours of the morn, Marie made her way to her bed room. Chione’s petite form was huddled under a mammoth heap of dirty clothes, blankets, and an old dusty quilt that her guardian had purchased off the street a week before. Marie didn’t bother changing out of her paint splattered long sleeve shirt and sweat pants; she did let her “smock” (an over sized t-shirt) drop to the floor, as that was completely coated in her day’s work. Her teeth were chattering too hard to merit brushing them. Letting sanitary needs go was working out pretty good.
Half dancing from foot to foot, as the icy floor burned them, Marie tried to creep silently to her side of the bed. It was not that waking Chione was a huge issue- the girl did not fuss or cry as other young children might, it was just that... Oh Marie couldn’t exactly put it into words. Care, maybe? Not like it mattered, just another mouth to feed.
She slipped under the covers and curled up around Chione. Warmth flooded through her limbs, the toddler radiating heat. Sleep followed swiftly.
An hour or two later, Marie met the floor with a thump. Cold and pain slowly penetrating her dreams, until she blinked herself into reality. “Whaaa?,” she half groaned. In the dark, she fumbled around for some light. Click. It was bright, and she winced.
Gingerly she stood to evaluate the situation. There was something slightly larger than Chione in the bed. Too tired to be careful, Marie ripped back the jumble of clothing and blankets. It was only Chione in the bed. But wait... she was confused. Her mind was still half in dreamworld. Did the child grow? Yes? Did it matter?
She fell back into bed, pushing her now-larger ward over to make more space. With one brave hand, she turned off the nights. Marie would wait until the morning to deal with this new twist.
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Posted: Sat Apr 07, 2007 10:18 am
 Is it can be growth quest tiemz?
Why yes indeed!
It seems that Chione and Marie have a tentative understanding of their situation and one another, but their emotional stances those things are blurry and undefined. What sorts of things could they do to get closer together? "Do they even want to know each other better?" is the question. Or would Marie rather just kill Audley for forcing a strange child on her? For Audley's sake, let's hope not.
Goals: a more defined emotional relationship with Chione via two roleplays.
Technicalities: Can be completed at any time with either a Sweet Thing owner or non-owner. If you are very short on time, you can PM Audley to waiver the RP-oriented growth quest and instead write to the "prompt" by yourself. When you've finished the two roleplays or the response, just post a "growth quest response" in the thread with the links to the RPs or the writing piece itself if you did the waiver.
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Posted: Wed Sep 12, 2007 8:16 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 12, 2007 8:18 pm
blurb
fight btw marie + chio
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Posted: Wed Sep 12, 2007 8:19 pm
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Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2007 3:54 pm
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