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"Well,..." the girl began, her voice still soft and low. Before she began, she realized that her feet felt heavier as she got nearer to the door. Maybe it was because they were so close to going inside.
"I was on the other side of town, in the wealthy area, strolling around for no apparent reason, so don't ask why I was there." she explained, before going on, "So I was walking, until I came to this alley, or what they would call an alley, because to me it looked like a street." This was something she did often, throwing in un-necessary things to either annoy, or to make them want to hear the rest. But obviously, they were probably in their minds like, 'When is this girl going to stop? I want to eat!', or at least Camine would say such a thing.
"So it was pretty dark in the alley, trees being there for some odd strange reason... and this guy popped out of nowhere." Her mind wandered back into that moment, a smirk across her face, as if she was about to laugh.
"What are you doing here?" the man asked. He was dressed in a black suit with white pinstripes, his hair freshly cut and a top hat on his head, and a cane at his side. 'Total aristocrat.' she had thought when she turned and look at him. He was a young guy, and of course being the young one with money, all he thought about was the money and, of course, sex.
"I was picking some flowers. Because I wanted to. That's why he stopped me." she said. "It was obvious that he was looking at my figure, and he said to me, 'You know, picking flowers from a noble's home is a serious offense when it's a peasant doing the crime.' And I said, 'I may be a 'peasant', as you may call it, but my appearance in the dirty filth I live in will always be significant to your mother's face.' I was making him mad. His face turned cherry and I laughed." When she entered the small, rackety apartment, she quickly walked over to the old kitchen (or, it was supposed to be for the kitchen) sink, pulling out a gallon of fresh spring water and three bags of instant noodles.
"Y-you don't want me to call the police, you tramp!" the man had said furiously, his blue eyes showing a hint of not only anger, but fear. He was bluffing. Laura had sat down on a bench, flicking a tiny flower after another onto the floor, and stomping and crushing the life out of it. That's when the man snapped. In a moment he approached her, a gun in his hand, pointing it at her face. She continued on with her destructive activity. "What are you going to do, kill me?" the girl has asked, her tone dripped with sarcasm.
"'No, I'm going to rape you.' That's what he said. He thought that he could take advantage of me." She had pulled out an old pot from a shelf by then,and put some water in the pot. Now, she was crushing the bags before opening them, and spilling the contents in the pot. When she was done, she turned to show what she did afterward. "So when he came closer and tried to grab hold of me, I went BAM!", making a very strong kick, her leg nearly going 130 degrees from where it was, "Right between his legs. He cried, he couldn't even move. I laughed. And that's when the police started coming, so I went through his pockets, finding a couple of hundreds in his pocket and his gold watch. When they were chasing after me, I left them in the dust."
"Once I lost them, I went to a convenience store and bought 50 dollars worth of instant food and stuff. About 650 left in here," she patted her bra, "And that's where it's going to stay. Until we need to get more food and stuff." She turned back around, hearing the foamy water touch the stove fire. She quickly took a fork and began turning the noodles. "I'm going to keep the gold watch. Unless one of you would like to have it...?" she said, turning off the heat and taking fresh. bread. out of one of the bags, placing two slices in three old bowls, before she began to strain the excess water out from the noodles. She put the seasoning in (it was probably beef flavored), before putting even amounts into the bowls. She put old dented forks in the bowls, before taking a bowl (which probably had the most seasoning in it), and began to eat. "Come get your food." she said her mouth full, as she shoved the food bags over and sat next to them on the counter.
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She didn't like how the relationship was going. Not at all. Every couple of minutes, she muttered, "a*****e."
Rinoa sat by the fountain in the Quad, twirling her fingers in the water aimlessly.With the usual childish pout on her face, she began wondering; Why did they start arguing again? She began to lose track, to forget. Rinoa just wanted it to be the same again. Was it really that hard to get back?
She moved from her last spot, over to the rail and watched the ground below. Her mind flashed back to the battle with Galbadia Garden, how she could've fell off the side of Balamb Garden, and into the spinning spokes below. How she could've died. But she didn't, thanks to one. Certain. Person. She twirled strands of her fair around her finger, remembering the moment, hanging onto that Galbadian mechanism by what basically was a piece of rope and a hook, while her boyfriend flew the thing towards Galbadia Garden. Debris being flown at her from random places, shots barely missing her, her hair a bit scorched...
The woman sighed. She noticed that her mind seemed blurry, and trying to think deep was killing her brain cells. How much worse was it for a sorceress without her knight? As the days went by, she began to think that maybe, just maybe, this was the reason why her and Squall was together. For him to give her emotional and physical support as a sorceress.
She shook her head lightly, trying to convince her mind, "No, it can't be. He isn't that messed up in the head." But the thought still arose like the living dead.
Her cellphone started to vibrate, making her jump back as if she was being tickled. She took the phone out her pocket by her thigh, and looked at it for a second.
"Squall." she said, plainly.
Immediately, Rinoa shot down the debate in her head, looked at Squall's ring resting on her chest and touched it. 'I wonder if he would hate me if I threw it off the edge...' she thought, mischievously to herself. Her pinky rose to her lip, cackling like Dr. Evil himself.
She wasn't that evil to try it, though.
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Rinoa sat by the fountain in the Quad, twirling her fingers in the water aimlessly.With the usual childish pout on her face, she began wondering; Why did they start arguing again? She began to lose track, to forget. Rinoa just wanted it to be the same again. Was it really that hard to get back?
She moved from her last spot, over to the rail and watched the ground below. Her mind flashed back to the battle with Galbadia Garden, how she could've fell off the side of Balamb Garden, and into the spinning spokes below. How she could've died. But she didn't, thanks to one. Certain. Person. She twirled strands of her fair around her finger, remembering the moment, hanging onto that Galbadian mechanism by what basically was a piece of rope and a hook, while her boyfriend flew the thing towards Galbadia Garden. Debris being flown at her from random places, shots barely missing her, her hair a bit scorched...
The woman sighed. She noticed that her mind seemed blurry, and trying to think deep was killing her brain cells. How much worse was it for a sorceress without her knight? As the days went by, she began to think that maybe, just maybe, this was the reason why her and Squall was together. For him to give her emotional and physical support as a sorceress.
She shook her head lightly, trying to convince her mind, "No, it can't be. He isn't that messed up in the head." But the thought still arose like the living dead.
Her cellphone started to vibrate, making her jump back as if she was being tickled. She took the phone out her pocket by her thigh, and looked at it for a second.
"Squall." she said, plainly.
Immediately, Rinoa shot down the debate in her head, looked at Squall's ring resting on her chest and touched it. 'I wonder if he would hate me if I threw it off the edge...' she thought, mischievously to herself. Her pinky rose to her lip, cackling like Dr. Evil himself.
She wasn't that evil to try it, though.
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- "Mother, honestly." A girlish voice whined from the back of a black limo. "I think I know what I want from the store." There was a moment of silence, as the sweet aroma of a honey-flavored cigar began to inch it's way over to her; her father was on the far other side of the limo, smoking while checking his Sidekick. Really, what 49-year old father has a sidekick?
"But Mommy, I want that specific dress before they sell out. Yes, Mommy, the blue one. You're so slow when it comes to using the internet. I still don't know why you don't trust me enough to use your debit card-- what? I'd make you file for bankruptcy-- oh shut up, will you? I mean, I could just as easily ask Daddy-- Mhm yeah, I thought so. So like I was saying, I want that dress, with the matching Alice bow and their new shoes~ 'kay, love you, bye-bye."
Lord knew that this girl did not deserve to have all her riches (or her parent's wealth, for that matter), yet there wasn't one day in the world where this girl was in a true money crisis. Her father treated her like a princess, her mother acting like her servant fifty-percent of the time. Her existence proved what could happen if a Drossellmeyer and a Choiseul had offspring. Angelique Ferrinas Choiseul-Drossellmeyer was truly a child that was left out in the sun for too long and spoiled.
Her father finally spoke up after five minutes of getting himself high off of the "honey-roasted" smell of the cigar, before telling his princess, "Do not stay here for too long. You know how I feel about this... boy. I don't need you to be a trouble-maker like he is."
"Was, Daddy."
"Whatever. Point is, that I don't want you to be here long after all his other guests leave; and I certainly do not want you to be staying after Midnight." He was answered to by a distracting hum, where he just sighed and continued smoking. "Be careful." Her father have always watched what little group of friends Angie had, and hearing about James' bad behavior surely didn't help his view of the boy.
"Yes, Daddy. I will." She said assuringly, as the limousine slowed and then stopped. The chauffeur hopped out of the car, walking towards the door of the house. This was probably the 10th time Angie has visited 'her dear Jimmy's' house, and it never ceased to amaze her. The small house was like a dream-house for the girl; the perfect home for a doll. She watched as the chauffeur's gloved finger stabbed the doorbell, before walking back to open the door for her. Angelique gathered her things, a parasol and a small purse, and smoothed out her hair as she blew a kiss to her father. "See you later, then." She said, before the car door opened and she stepped outside. "I've rung the bell, Miss."
"I know. Thank you." she said, as she took a few steps away from the vehicle before straightening her outfit out. She wore a pink plaid jumper skirt, that had a nice big bow in the back, while the skirt-part ended with a ruffle and then white lace. She wore a white short-sleeved blouse underneath, and a light, pink bolero over both. Her legs were bare, while there were the new white sandal-shoes from Baby, the Stars Shine Bright. On her fingers (almost every one of them) there were silver antique-looking rings, while two string of pearls rested on her collarbones. Her straightened her dress out, fluffing up the petticoat underneath quick, before walking slowly towards the door, her white parasol being used as a walking stick, one way or another.
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Angelique, for that small moment, was in a state of shock. Was this her brother? Did he even care for her? No. That couldn't have been the case. He couldn't have meant that. But what she did now know was truly alive, was a hate for their father. Or maybe according to him, her father.
Every small touch made her skin tingle, she felt like she was in a dream. 'He's toying with me... I know it...', her mind seemed to say, but that thought was gone, once she felt a sudden, strange feeling in her lower abdomen. Every touch, even when it was only from her neck up, sent intense signals down. She felt like she was going to collapse from the feeling, yet she kept.. completely.. still...
"B-brother!" she gasped, more like in a moan, as she nearly stumbled trying to step back, when he parted from her. She lowered her parasol, to hide the dark cherry colored blush that appeared on her face.
Was he truly using her? Or did he really felt for her? After all, she did look like their mother... was it love for her, or love for their mother? Questions kept on popping into her head, as she tried to regulate her breathing, and clear her head. It wasn't working at all. Should she go with him? She didn't want to become far away from Father... but...
She wanted to know more about that feeling, that strong blast of emotion she just felt. And she felt that in return for that feeling, she would feel small and childish, which she really didn't mind feeling. So, she slowly approached her brother again... and held out her hand, her eyes empty and serene as it always had been. She didn't dare to look up at his face, fearing that she would blush again.
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Every small touch made her skin tingle, she felt like she was in a dream. 'He's toying with me... I know it...', her mind seemed to say, but that thought was gone, once she felt a sudden, strange feeling in her lower abdomen. Every touch, even when it was only from her neck up, sent intense signals down. She felt like she was going to collapse from the feeling, yet she kept.. completely.. still...
"B-brother!" she gasped, more like in a moan, as she nearly stumbled trying to step back, when he parted from her. She lowered her parasol, to hide the dark cherry colored blush that appeared on her face.
Was he truly using her? Or did he really felt for her? After all, she did look like their mother... was it love for her, or love for their mother? Questions kept on popping into her head, as she tried to regulate her breathing, and clear her head. It wasn't working at all. Should she go with him? She didn't want to become far away from Father... but...
She wanted to know more about that feeling, that strong blast of emotion she just felt. And she felt that in return for that feeling, she would feel small and childish, which she really didn't mind feeling. So, she slowly approached her brother again... and held out her hand, her eyes empty and serene as it always had been. She didn't dare to look up at his face, fearing that she would blush again.
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Angelique simply brushed off his sarcasm. She wasn't trying to get annoyed at the moment. "I've seen her once. Or twice." she said, before starting up the little story.
"She had pale ivory skin and ebony black hair. I think When I saw her, I could never see her eyes. They were always covered by a scarf. She was under some kind of curse, that made her have the eyes of a basilisk. When she was born a nurse died when she looked into her eyes. Or at least that's what I've heard.
"I've heard Father said the name Chasity Pope. She was a pretty girl around Daemon's age, I think. Daughter of the Duke of Lecce, one of the noble regions, the one near the Kingdom of Death.
An old man with peppered hair approached the door. Who could've been knocking at this hour? He opened the door slowly.
"Welcome to the Pope estate. What busi--" the man stopped abruptly as he looked at the girl, wide-eyed. How could she still be living???
Soon enough, his heart began to burn. He began to gasp for air, before groaning and falling to the floor, dead.
The creature smirked, stepping over the body and closing the door, walking towards the dining room.
In the dining room, the Pope family was eating.
The Duke, the Duchess, and of course, their new girl, Emilia. They looked up in shock to see the girl in the hallway, wide-eyed herself, her face full of shock and anger. "You've replaced me?! Mother! Father!" she screeched, looking horridly at the little girl, who looked around the age of 8. The family's black hair and all. A miniature her.
Obviously this creature had control of those basilisk eyes. She looked at her father again, then her mother again, before yelling in rage, "I will be your only, beloved daughter. I will!"
"So when she was here, she was blindfolded. I guess that's how it was back at their home, also. She was always pampered. A spoiled child. She always asked for things from everyone. And if she didn't get it, she would screech as if she was a Siren, and cried, running around. Eventually she would run into a wall and cry some more. She never took off the scarf, though. Never used it to her advantage. But then, I guess they had sewn it into her skin. But no one could really notice."
The girl looked at the child, who began to wheeze and cough, before falling to the floor. Emilia was dying, but that wasn't enough for the witch. The Duke and the Duchess screamed in horror, trying to say, "Alright! Alright, sweet Chastity! We've never forgotten about you!", but that wouldn't stop her. In her peach colored gown, she ran for a fork on the girl's plate, and tackled the dying, crying Emilia.
The fork peirced through the girl's skin. The poor child screamed in agony, as her demonic sister withdrew the fork, and this time, stabbing her in her eyes. "MOTHER! MOTHER! FATHER!!!" she screamed, and over and over again, Chastity stabbed the girl, through her neck, through her chest, continuing all over her body, yelling, "NO! NO! SHUT UP!!! YOU DO"After the cries went down, and Emilia took her last breath, Chastity was still screaming, crying, stabbing. She broke through the child's skull, to her brain, where she left the fork, before ripping the girl's heart out with her own two hands, and bursted it open. Blood splattered on her face, and everywhere.
The Duke and Duchess stood in horror, watching their baby get killed. Yet, they couldn't do anything. They could've gotten killed theirselves. They just stared at Chastity, at the small corpse, and the blood that stained the floor, the girls' dresses, the wall and the tabledress.
When she was done, she looked up at her mother innocently, and began to cry. "Mother.. mother..." she said again, and again, and reluctantly, the woman crouched next to her daughter, bewildered, in disbelief, rubbing her used-to-be-deceased child's back. "You're back..." she said, her face and her voice empty. She looked up at her husband. "Your daughter's back..."
"Daddy..." the girl said, slowly standing up, away from her mother, her eyes wide, a smirk across her face, giving a childish giggle from her insanity. "May I marry the prince, now?"
"...She died a few years ago. I've heard it was from an illness, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was from the creature that killed all the girls that were supposed to marry Darien," she finished.
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'What the hell am I doing?' part of him said inside. Darien never thought he would kiss Daemon back. But now he was enjoying it. Before he was not only disgusted, but in denial of a lot of things. He thought that perhaps, this was a good time to start accepting things.
But the least the Fallen Prince should've done at the moment, was to expect Daemon to start getting a bit aggressive, because as soon as Daemon deepened the kiss, Darien's thoughts cleared, and a moan --a very loud one, mind you-- escaped his lips. And just when he was really enjoying it, their lips parted. 'Dammit Daemon, why did you do that?' he had meant to say, becoming disappointed.
"Did that hurt?" Daemon had asked, and the only thought that was in the Fallen's mind, was the kiss. 'Of course it didn't hurt.' When he pushed himself off the tree, he felt what Daemon was really talking about, and winced. "I'm fine..." he answered, rubbing the sore part. It was enough that he was blushing quite a bit, but now the comment about candy made him feel hot. [Not horny 'hot', perv. xP] "How the hell do I taste like candy..?" he asked, rather softly. God, he felt like such a girl.
"Daemon!" Darien yelled, in the same passionate voice as before, closing his eyes, trying to avoid looking. Even in the dead empty forest, he felt extremely embarassed. His breaths became faster, harsher, and uneven, as he held the demon's hands on his waist hesitantly. He couldn't say anymore after that. Now, something kept on clicking in his mind, saying, "This is not right. This is not right." And yet, he didn't try to resist.
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A brunette woke up in a strange place. Rain was pounding against her clothing, her face, it was a miracle her hair still had some life in it. Once her senses came together, she realized that she wasn't at home anymore.
"This isn't Twilight Town..." she murmured to herself, slowly getting up and observing the weird shape of the buildings and houses. "Where am I?" She began to walk in a random direction, which there were only two; sooner or later she realized she was in an alley. As she approached the dim lighting the sky set upon this strange kingdom, she saw a wounded soldier, dying on the ground, choking on his own blood.
Olette looked down upon the dying man, wondering what kind of race of man he was; his had the face of a rat-like creature, but in such a way that the man was beautiful, not like one of those disgusting furry things she would find down in the alleys of Twilight Town. He mumbled something weakly, looking at her with dazed eyes his hand holding out a vial. "A potion?" she asked, taking it and putting it in her pocket. The man kept on saying something, but she couldn't decipher it, so she attempted to guess until he took his last, staggering breath.
A sudden rush of fear ran down her spine. Where was she? What killed that man? Hesitantly, she searched the rest of his body, finding more potions and items she might use in the future. Looking beside him, she took his spear, which to her almost seemed as tall as a telephone pole. She swung it in front of her repeatedly; it was light. That was the moment she realized, that instead of seeing her bare arm, she saw armour. She looked down at herself; what happened to her clothes? All replaced by a set of ultramarine-colored armour. She felt the top of her head, before taking off a helmet that sat lightly on her head. "W-what is this place? Where are my clothes?"
Did someone change her clothes while she was unconscious? Her hair didn't seem to have changed, nor her face, so she felt a little relieved. Nothing was worse than helmet hair in such a place. She would've yelled for someone to hear her, but she was afraid of attracting the wrong attention. Before praying to the poor soul, she began to run away. Off to somewhere random; she had to get out of here before she gets killed.
'Hayner, Pence.. are you here too?' she wondered worriedly.
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