ArynMae20Charlie suppressed another yawn, willing herself not to rub her eyes like a five-year-old. The floor beneath her feet felt cool as she slowly shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I know I keep repeating myself, but I just can’t tell you enough how grateful I am.” Charlie smiled. "It's really not a problem, I'm glad your h-here." her voice stuttered slightly as she felt Mila's icy hand slowly weave itself through her own. 'Why does she make me so nervous?' Charlie tugged unconsciously at the edge of her skirt, a nervous habit she had gained sometime during her childhood. She could remember constantly being scolded by her mother for playing with her clothes and ruining most of her pretty skirts and dresses not that she had been an overly dressy kind of child. Realizing what she was doing, Charlie laughed slightly releasing her skirt and linking both hands in front of her. "I agree. I think this will be a good thing."
Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, Charlie started making her way towards the door. "Tomorrows my day off, too." She murmured, stopping in the doorway and turning around. "I was going to spend the day cleaning and practicing, but if you need any help...?" She trailed off and leaned against the door frame, rubbing her neck slightly. "Anyways. We can talk more in the morning." Her voice cracked with a tired yawn. "G'night." Charlie shifted out of the room and pulled the door shut behind her. The audible click as it latched into place threw her into a silence that was very familiar in her apartment. Actually, today was probably the most action this place had seen in a while, unless you count Mrs. Walton dropping by with one of her delicious pies or some other bake good that lasted all of one day considering Charlie had no concept of 'self control' when it came to sweets.
She stood outside the room, rubbing her her face slightly before turning towards the bathroom just across the hall. It was late and her body felt thick with fatigue as she quickly ran a toothbrush over her teeth and peeled off her sweater and skirt. The long day had made the clothing limp and warm as they dropped to the floor by her feet and she pulled on her housecoat. Char pulled the door open, listening to the squeak of un-oiled hinges and padding slowly down the hallway, flicking off some lights as she went, Char pulled open her door and stepped into her messy room wit a disdained moan. It felt wrong to have the house so messy when there was another person there, even if the mess was mostly centered around her bedroom. Still. she couldn't help but pile the clothes in the hamper and put away some of the other obstacles that had somehow found their way to her floor.
With the room somewhat organized (or at least less of a pigsty then before) she was finally able to pull on a loose t-shirt and climb into her crisp covers. The sheets felt good against her smooth, bare legs as she snuggled deeper into the pillows that piled on the bed like the worlds highest pillow mountain. She couldn't sleep without pillows or blankets cocooning her body, even in the heat of summer, there was something about the vulnerability of sleeping without blankets that scared her for some strange reason. However, tonight she just couldn't sleep. Her mind was restlessly going over the events of the day that had started off with her normal coffee and pastry and ended with a stranger sleeping in her spare room. It was a welcome break to her mundane routine that seemed so monotonous now. Flipping over to her side, Charlie's heavy eyelids blinked shut, her reeling mind slowed and she drifted into a deep, exhausted sleep.
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It really isn't a thing that we do, challenging other people :p It just started as a joke in class one night when I told her my abs were better (not true, the kid is freaking jacked...) and then we somehow decided that we'd have an improv competition, winner gets bragging rights for a year. She's taking it really seriously and it's so adorable!
I can see how that would be exhausting. I don't do well teaching people, I get really frustrated when they don't understand. The only thing I'm actually good at teaching is dance because it's acceptable to yell at your students. Eesh, school work... I got all my stuff done today in class so I'm pretty pumped. we're getting a huge storm tomorrow that's going to last until Thursday so I won't have to do anything the next two days except get ready or comp (I realize that 99.9% of the time I talk about dance... sorry for that :p)
Yay for fixing your shower head! I'm the least handy person you will ever meet so that is actually kind of impressive to me.
I can see how that would be exhausting. I don't do well teaching people, I get really frustrated when they don't understand. The only thing I'm actually good at teaching is dance because it's acceptable to yell at your students. Eesh, school work... I got all my stuff done today in class so I'm pretty pumped. we're getting a huge storm tomorrow that's going to last until Thursday so I won't have to do anything the next two days except get ready or comp (I realize that 99.9% of the time I talk about dance... sorry for that :p)
Yay for fixing your shower head! I'm the least handy person you will ever meet so that is actually kind of impressive to me.
Sorry that took so long! I kinda fell asleep... but anyways there it is, hope it's alright.
Marnie
"Woah there buddy." Marnie Hudson's voice rung clear through the bustling noise of the overactive bar. She was at the tap tonight and some rowdy men were working up an argument that she couldn't see going anywhere but down hill. "Why don't you take a breather, step outside for a bit." She was calm and collected, her piercing blue-green eyes flashed something feral as they swept over the drunk. "Um, uh, yeah." His words slurred together making one unintelligible utterance. He heaved his heavy set body from the wooden bar stool, disregarding his half glass of ale and weaving his way through the crowd of swaying bodies. He disappeared in the mess of tangled people, leaving Mar to look at the second customer and laugh slightly. "You should know better then to get stupid, drunk humans going, Glenn." She said her voice playful as she set another Coors Lite in front of the man. He was rugged looking, middle aged with a jagged scar penetrating his left cheek. Most people stared when they saw Glenn, he was unique what with his aged, once attractive features that could probably still be so if he had of kept better care of himself in his youth. "I can't help myself, they're just so hilarious." His throaty laugh resounded through the room. causing Mar to grin with it's familiarity.
She had known Glenn since she was three-years-old. He had joined Mar's pack after he was mistakenly bitten by a nomad who didn't care enough to clean up his own messes. Her first memory of Glenn was her father and uncle pulling him through the hallways of her home, he was snarling and feral and absolutely terrifying to the young child. His ripped, bloody clothing hung off his body as he clung to the only instinct he knew: Survival. She could still remember the smell of his rotten breath as she peeked out her slightly ajar bedroom door. Yet it was only months later that Glenn's personality took a turn, with some training he was able to function like a normal person and soon enough became a very close family friend. So close in fact, that when her entire family was inexplicably killed Glenn was the one who took Marnie in and raised her.
Pushing away from the counter she shook her head slightly at her honorary father. Her brown ponytail swooshed gently against the back of her neck as she did so. "Be good." She warned, pointing an accusing finger at the man before turning away towards a real costumer who drunkenly hit on her. The night had been relatively normal, especially for a night so close to a full moon. Usually the week before was torture, she would feel her bones softening, readying themselves for the change. Her entire body would become twitchy, she would constantly want to move but would be unsure of how and why. Most often she ended up aimlessly wandering around, her mind a thousand years away in some distant, imaginary world. She did feel some of the normal angst making its home in her stomach and the dull ache was starting to seep into her bones like a disease, however she felt absolutely fine as she poured another drink and took another order.
Jeremiah
Jeremiah stood on the roof, looking down towards the shimmering sidewalk. He could make out the small, ant-like people who moved around slowly in the night atmosphere. Most people were stumbling, their cackles drifting up towards him as he swayed precariously close to the edge. Wobbling slightly as he took a deep breath and leaned farther over. His hair hung in his eyes, distorting his view, as his feet shuffled closer and closer towards the edge. Finally, with one last painstaking step he found himself tumbling through the air. His clothes ripping off his body as he flew downwards. The acceleration picked up, the wind whistled through his ears and his vision was chopping; snippets of people running, gaping and pulling loved ones close to them came like a badly put together slideshow. The people's shocked, terrified gasps rung in his ears as he fell faster and faster towards the ground his stomach clenched in fear as he saw they grey pavement appear closer and closer. Just as he was about to hit the pavement, the fear in his stomach tightening until he felt sick and icy cold, Jeremiah jerked awake.
Swearing several rash profanities, he bolted awake on his living room sofa. The television played softly beside him as he disjointedly looked around. The dream was still fresh in his memory as he swung his heavy legs around to gracelessly stand up off the couch. The hardwood was cool underneath his feet as he grabbed the remote and clicked off the show before silently padded towards the living room and grabbed an apple from the basket. Out of habit, he reached to turn on the radio hoping for some slight distraction from the morbid dream that he had just awoken from. Jer still felt a small amount of fear deep in his gut and as he lifted the apple towards his mouth he noticed the slight shake in his hand. With his lips just closing around the apple he felt his body freeze and the warmth drain slowly from him as the news reporter murmured solemnly on the radio.
"28-year-old Fredrick Wolmer has just been pronounced dead after what appears to be a suicide attempt. Police have been called to the scene and the general public is in a state of shock. He-"
Quickly, Jeremiah reached towards the radio and shut it off. His hand was now shaking uncontrollably as he clenched it into a fist in some attempt to control the convulsion. A feeling of complete agitation and horror swept over him as he leaned against the counter and put his face into his hands. It was a coincidence, the dream and the event. They were in no way connected, there was no way they could even possibly be connected! Chewing his lip thoughtfully, Jer left his apple discarded on the counter and went grabbed his jacket which hung absently on the back of one of the island chairs. 'It has to be a coincidence' he convinced himself over and over again, leaving the apartment and rushing outside for fresh air. 'There is no way that your dream and this even are connected.' The faltering voice had to be right... yet there was only so many times that you could lie to yourself before the truth came back to bite you in the ass.
"Woah there buddy." Marnie Hudson's voice rung clear through the bustling noise of the overactive bar. She was at the tap tonight and some rowdy men were working up an argument that she couldn't see going anywhere but down hill. "Why don't you take a breather, step outside for a bit." She was calm and collected, her piercing blue-green eyes flashed something feral as they swept over the drunk. "Um, uh, yeah." His words slurred together making one unintelligible utterance. He heaved his heavy set body from the wooden bar stool, disregarding his half glass of ale and weaving his way through the crowd of swaying bodies. He disappeared in the mess of tangled people, leaving Mar to look at the second customer and laugh slightly. "You should know better then to get stupid, drunk humans going, Glenn." She said her voice playful as she set another Coors Lite in front of the man. He was rugged looking, middle aged with a jagged scar penetrating his left cheek. Most people stared when they saw Glenn, he was unique what with his aged, once attractive features that could probably still be so if he had of kept better care of himself in his youth. "I can't help myself, they're just so hilarious." His throaty laugh resounded through the room. causing Mar to grin with it's familiarity.
She had known Glenn since she was three-years-old. He had joined Mar's pack after he was mistakenly bitten by a nomad who didn't care enough to clean up his own messes. Her first memory of Glenn was her father and uncle pulling him through the hallways of her home, he was snarling and feral and absolutely terrifying to the young child. His ripped, bloody clothing hung off his body as he clung to the only instinct he knew: Survival. She could still remember the smell of his rotten breath as she peeked out her slightly ajar bedroom door. Yet it was only months later that Glenn's personality took a turn, with some training he was able to function like a normal person and soon enough became a very close family friend. So close in fact, that when her entire family was inexplicably killed Glenn was the one who took Marnie in and raised her.
Pushing away from the counter she shook her head slightly at her honorary father. Her brown ponytail swooshed gently against the back of her neck as she did so. "Be good." She warned, pointing an accusing finger at the man before turning away towards a real costumer who drunkenly hit on her. The night had been relatively normal, especially for a night so close to a full moon. Usually the week before was torture, she would feel her bones softening, readying themselves for the change. Her entire body would become twitchy, she would constantly want to move but would be unsure of how and why. Most often she ended up aimlessly wandering around, her mind a thousand years away in some distant, imaginary world. She did feel some of the normal angst making its home in her stomach and the dull ache was starting to seep into her bones like a disease, however she felt absolutely fine as she poured another drink and took another order.
Jeremiah
Jeremiah stood on the roof, looking down towards the shimmering sidewalk. He could make out the small, ant-like people who moved around slowly in the night atmosphere. Most people were stumbling, their cackles drifting up towards him as he swayed precariously close to the edge. Wobbling slightly as he took a deep breath and leaned farther over. His hair hung in his eyes, distorting his view, as his feet shuffled closer and closer towards the edge. Finally, with one last painstaking step he found himself tumbling through the air. His clothes ripping off his body as he flew downwards. The acceleration picked up, the wind whistled through his ears and his vision was chopping; snippets of people running, gaping and pulling loved ones close to them came like a badly put together slideshow. The people's shocked, terrified gasps rung in his ears as he fell faster and faster towards the ground his stomach clenched in fear as he saw they grey pavement appear closer and closer. Just as he was about to hit the pavement, the fear in his stomach tightening until he felt sick and icy cold, Jeremiah jerked awake.
Swearing several rash profanities, he bolted awake on his living room sofa. The television played softly beside him as he disjointedly looked around. The dream was still fresh in his memory as he swung his heavy legs around to gracelessly stand up off the couch. The hardwood was cool underneath his feet as he grabbed the remote and clicked off the show before silently padded towards the living room and grabbed an apple from the basket. Out of habit, he reached to turn on the radio hoping for some slight distraction from the morbid dream that he had just awoken from. Jer still felt a small amount of fear deep in his gut and as he lifted the apple towards his mouth he noticed the slight shake in his hand. With his lips just closing around the apple he felt his body freeze and the warmth drain slowly from him as the news reporter murmured solemnly on the radio.
"28-year-old Fredrick Wolmer has just been pronounced dead after what appears to be a suicide attempt. Police have been called to the scene and the general public is in a state of shock. He-"
Quickly, Jeremiah reached towards the radio and shut it off. His hand was now shaking uncontrollably as he clenched it into a fist in some attempt to control the convulsion. A feeling of complete agitation and horror swept over him as he leaned against the counter and put his face into his hands. It was a coincidence, the dream and the event. They were in no way connected, there was no way they could even possibly be connected! Chewing his lip thoughtfully, Jer left his apple discarded on the counter and went grabbed his jacket which hung absently on the back of one of the island chairs. 'It has to be a coincidence' he convinced himself over and over again, leaving the apartment and rushing outside for fresh air. 'There is no way that your dream and this even are connected.' The faltering voice had to be right... yet there was only so many times that you could lie to yourself before the truth came back to bite you in the ass.
Honestly? I feel dead... haha. I was at stage practice after school today and it was kind of exhausting. But some eleven year old that goes to my dance school challenged me to a "dance battle" at comp this weekend, haha. She's such a cutie! Oh, and for our production this year, one of the parts that I'm in is a vampire sequence and whenever I performed it today I was seriously channeling my inner Mila P Anyways, that was my day. Whats up with you?
I don't mind at all, I'll write one now (:
The sky outside had darkened since they first met on the stairs. The apartment was lit only be a dim light that emitted a soft yellow glow and illuminated the two women sitting on the couch. Charlie pursed her lips and glanced away from Mila as she slowly started to take off her clothing. "I-I'd love to sing for you sometime." Clearing her throat she felt an awkward rush of embarrassment heat her body. She wasn't usually like this around people, she was usually the one making the other person flush and giggle. Among the feelings of attraction were that of jealousy. Mila was incredibly beautiful the type of beautiful that Charlie wished she could be; instead of just the quirky "cute" girl that everyone just loved. It was frustrating sometimes, being seen as cute or adorable instead of beautiful and sexy like every woman craved to be. She felt incredibly inaccurate as she nervously wrung her hands and sneaked small glances at Mila who was confidently changing beside her.
"I guess I'm okay." She started, trying to keep her mind away from all of those confusing thoughts that sometimes surfaced themselves. "I've been singing since I was a kid, and I use to play my dad's guitar. When they noticed how well I picked up on it, my parents sent me to classes. My teacher was the one who really instilled the love of performing into me." Smiling, Charlie remembered her days at the dusty old building where her classes were held. Miss. Dyer was young and incredibly beautiful, she would sit delicately at the piano or with the guitar creating the most devine music Charlie had ever heard. As she grew older, she feel more and more in love with music and, in her graduating year, made the difficult decision to graduate in January instead of June so that she could go to the city and start her career early. That had been almost six years ago and Char still wasn't anywhere. "I guess I'm just waiting for my big break." Whenever that happens.
Charlie leaned back on the couch and propped her legs, darkened by the nylons, onto a clear spot on the coffee table. Her hands fumbled nervously on her lap and she tried not to watch Mila as she daintily readjusted herself, tucking her long slender legs beneath her (somewhat of a pity in Charlie's mind) and started twirling the soft pony tail of Char's head. She fought down the blush that once again threatened to darken her cheeks yet another shade of red and gave Mila an arresting smile. "Thank-you." She unconsciously chew on her lip, glancing up at Mila's striking eyes and then back down again at her own hands. She couldn't exactly feel the way that her companion played with the tips of her thin pony tail but she could sense the cool hands in close proximity to the back of her neck, sending a chilled sensation down her spine. "I don't know how far I'd go on the talent thing." Charlie's voice murmured, risking bitterness as she finally gained the courage to look up at Mila. She caught the woman's eyes and forced herself to keep it. "I just mean, sometimes it gets discouraging but that's life."
Charlie unconsciously leaned towards Mila. The blush on her cheeks had settled to a slight pink tint that made her look lively as she became more comfortable in the situation. "As for the admirers? In my dreams! The only people falling head over heels for me are creepy old guys looking for a 'good time'." She rolled her eyes and laughed morosely. "I wouldn't even go there even if men interested me." She flipped a small fly away from her face and addressed the next question with a growing ease for this woman. "Meh. It's okay, pays the bills more then performing does. But some people can be the biggest jerks ever but most of the time costumers are good and they tip really well."
With a small exhale of breath, Charlie leaned back her head which suddenly felt thick and heavy. She wanted to stay up, to talk all night with this person who Char cold see herself considering a friend, but her body wasn't having any of it. She was so use to being in bed promptly by eleven so that she could get up to work the morning shift at the diner and then go out and play all day, so it was like she was programmed to be tired at that specific time. Glancing over at the glowing clock on the stove she noticed that it was well past midnight. Charlie suppressed a yawn, a losing battle, and looked up at Mila. "Man, If I feel this tired I can't imagine how you must feel after a day like today." She referred lightly to the crazy boyfriend drama and put a comforting hand lightly on Mila's shoulder. "We should probably get some sleep, come on I'll show you the room."
She heaved herself off of the couch and helped Mila up as well. "That's the bathroom right there, that's my room at the end of the hall," she listed off the doors as they entered the mouth of the hallway, her feet dragging lazily on the floor as she pushed open a wooden door and revealed a quaint, normal bedroom. "This is the guest room. Well I guess your room now if you still want it." She quickly grabbed some spare blankets from the closet and nodded towards a slightly ajar door. "That's the bathroom right there, it's only a half bath so we have to share a shower but otherwise you have complete privacy." She set the sheets lightly on the end of the bed and looked up at Mila, a questioning look on her face. "Whatta ya think?"
"I guess I'm okay." She started, trying to keep her mind away from all of those confusing thoughts that sometimes surfaced themselves. "I've been singing since I was a kid, and I use to play my dad's guitar. When they noticed how well I picked up on it, my parents sent me to classes. My teacher was the one who really instilled the love of performing into me." Smiling, Charlie remembered her days at the dusty old building where her classes were held. Miss. Dyer was young and incredibly beautiful, she would sit delicately at the piano or with the guitar creating the most devine music Charlie had ever heard. As she grew older, she feel more and more in love with music and, in her graduating year, made the difficult decision to graduate in January instead of June so that she could go to the city and start her career early. That had been almost six years ago and Char still wasn't anywhere. "I guess I'm just waiting for my big break." Whenever that happens.
Charlie leaned back on the couch and propped her legs, darkened by the nylons, onto a clear spot on the coffee table. Her hands fumbled nervously on her lap and she tried not to watch Mila as she daintily readjusted herself, tucking her long slender legs beneath her (somewhat of a pity in Charlie's mind) and started twirling the soft pony tail of Char's head. She fought down the blush that once again threatened to darken her cheeks yet another shade of red and gave Mila an arresting smile. "Thank-you." She unconsciously chew on her lip, glancing up at Mila's striking eyes and then back down again at her own hands. She couldn't exactly feel the way that her companion played with the tips of her thin pony tail but she could sense the cool hands in close proximity to the back of her neck, sending a chilled sensation down her spine. "I don't know how far I'd go on the talent thing." Charlie's voice murmured, risking bitterness as she finally gained the courage to look up at Mila. She caught the woman's eyes and forced herself to keep it. "I just mean, sometimes it gets discouraging but that's life."
Charlie unconsciously leaned towards Mila. The blush on her cheeks had settled to a slight pink tint that made her look lively as she became more comfortable in the situation. "As for the admirers? In my dreams! The only people falling head over heels for me are creepy old guys looking for a 'good time'." She rolled her eyes and laughed morosely. "I wouldn't even go there even if men interested me." She flipped a small fly away from her face and addressed the next question with a growing ease for this woman. "Meh. It's okay, pays the bills more then performing does. But some people can be the biggest jerks ever but most of the time costumers are good and they tip really well."
With a small exhale of breath, Charlie leaned back her head which suddenly felt thick and heavy. She wanted to stay up, to talk all night with this person who Char cold see herself considering a friend, but her body wasn't having any of it. She was so use to being in bed promptly by eleven so that she could get up to work the morning shift at the diner and then go out and play all day, so it was like she was programmed to be tired at that specific time. Glancing over at the glowing clock on the stove she noticed that it was well past midnight. Charlie suppressed a yawn, a losing battle, and looked up at Mila. "Man, If I feel this tired I can't imagine how you must feel after a day like today." She referred lightly to the crazy boyfriend drama and put a comforting hand lightly on Mila's shoulder. "We should probably get some sleep, come on I'll show you the room."
She heaved herself off of the couch and helped Mila up as well. "That's the bathroom right there, that's my room at the end of the hall," she listed off the doors as they entered the mouth of the hallway, her feet dragging lazily on the floor as she pushed open a wooden door and revealed a quaint, normal bedroom. "This is the guest room. Well I guess your room now if you still want it." She quickly grabbed some spare blankets from the closet and nodded towards a slightly ajar door. "That's the bathroom right there, it's only a half bath so we have to share a shower but otherwise you have complete privacy." She set the sheets lightly on the end of the bed and looked up at Mila, a questioning look on her face. "Whatta ya think?"
I call everyone 'love' and 'hun' so I get ya, haha.
Do you wanna start or do you want me to?
Do you wanna start or do you want me to?
Honestly, I don't mind! I'm not the quickest either. I honestly think that it's better to be able to write really well done posts in a shorter amount of time rather then slap something together and it maybe not be so great. And I agree! roleplaying really helps me with my character development and plot development I find.
Ew, really? That's kinda shitty, luckily they're good at weeding out the bad ones though! Honestly the drama in my life now isn't as bad as it has been (in some ways), but I'm actually starting to feel comfortable and happy again and all the shit that went down in the last couple of months has kinda come to a stop and everything's cool right now, thankfully.
Okay, so I'm going to bed now, but I'll post something sometime tomorrow :) See ya!
Ew, really? That's kinda shitty, luckily they're good at weeding out the bad ones though! Honestly the drama in my life now isn't as bad as it has been (in some ways), but I'm actually starting to feel comfortable and happy again and all the shit that went down in the last couple of months has kinda come to a stop and everything's cool right now, thankfully.
Okay, so I'm going to bed now, but I'll post something sometime tomorrow :) See ya!
That is definitely a thank you! Just you using the word 'doll' reminding me of something she would say.
Also, that's fine. It's late here so we can just start tomorrow or something.
Also, that's fine. It's late here so we can just start tomorrow or something.
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