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just a good egg
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I'm really sorry, I was going to try and get my characters up tonight but I've been struck down by a migraine of immense proportions. I'll have them done when things have subsided and I can come out of the dark room.
Sorry! I didn't mean to hit that! I will finish it off, it is happening, a million sorries!
Justine didn't understand. And for once, it wasn't just the language she was so confused by, this time. The entire night had baffled her entirely. Yes, she got the concept of the whole "prom" thing; dress up nice and dance with people who didn't talk to her and then go home. Nothing special. None of those people cared enough to dance with her. Not unless they expected her to live up to their slutty idea of a French girl. But this was just wrong.
The town looked idyllic from the hills, in the last of the warm California sun. And yet, she still sat in the comfort of her brother's old jersey, waiting for her younger brother to join her with the ball. She'd promised that she'd help him train, so he could try out for the football team in his school. Apparently, the two games were similar, but she paid no attention to that. She'd been waiting for him to come running up the hill with the ball so they could play. He never came.
The explosion was something out of a film, something that couldn't be real. It shouldn't have been real. The rumble of the buildings crashing down without a care where they landed. Burning and crushing her home, her parents, her baby brother. She had been hysterical for a while, screaming and cursing and swearing. Begging for it not to be real as the ashes of what should have been her livelihood scattered. And then she knew. She had to call Michel, or Arnaud, to get them to come for her, to fix everything. So she'd followed the road out of town, trying to find a phone to use, with the few dollars in her pocket, all she had to do was find one.
The others had came along in the van, but she'd fought him, screaming and crying for Mamé and Papé and Hugo. But then she had seen the others, sat in the van, looking numb, and conceded, being pushed in to the van quickly before they continued on, in to the night.
By the time they were let out, she was still sniffling, her brain starting to pick up some of what was being said. But the tone was what made her understand. They were all dead, the whole town, and now they had to run. The others around her, she recognised them, of course, but there were none who were really familiar. Nobody to talk to now she was alone in the world. She hadn't had her phone, so she shook her head when he got to her, and he moved on.
Then, things were handed to one of the boys, and the man who had collected them, the strange little rag-tag team that they were, sped away in the van. Wiping her eye on her sleeve, she stepped back, trying to calm herself down, so that she could try to understand at least parts of what they were saying. So far, however, that wasn't working.
The town looked idyllic from the hills, in the last of the warm California sun. And yet, she still sat in the comfort of her brother's old jersey, waiting for her younger brother to join her with the ball. She'd promised that she'd help him train, so he could try out for the football team in his school. Apparently, the two games were similar, but she paid no attention to that. She'd been waiting for him to come running up the hill with the ball so they could play. He never came.
The explosion was something out of a film, something that couldn't be real. It shouldn't have been real. The rumble of the buildings crashing down without a care where they landed. Burning and crushing her home, her parents, her baby brother. She had been hysterical for a while, screaming and cursing and swearing. Begging for it not to be real as the ashes of what should have been her livelihood scattered. And then she knew. She had to call Michel, or Arnaud, to get them to come for her, to fix everything. So she'd followed the road out of town, trying to find a phone to use, with the few dollars in her pocket, all she had to do was find one.
The others had came along in the van, but she'd fought him, screaming and crying for Mamé and Papé and Hugo. But then she had seen the others, sat in the van, looking numb, and conceded, being pushed in to the van quickly before they continued on, in to the night.
By the time they were let out, she was still sniffling, her brain starting to pick up some of what was being said. But the tone was what made her understand. They were all dead, the whole town, and now they had to run. The others around her, she recognised them, of course, but there were none who were really familiar. Nobody to talk to now she was alone in the world. She hadn't had her phone, so she shook her head when he got to her, and he moved on.
Then, things were handed to one of the boys, and the man who had collected them, the strange little rag-tag team that they were, sped away in the van. Wiping her eye on her sleeve, she stepped back, trying to calm herself down, so that she could try to understand at least parts of what they were saying. So far, however, that wasn't working.
I'd be ready, as long as everyone else is?
Justine would speak a little Spanish, perhaps they could be acquainted with each other?
I'm in BST too.
I'm in BST too.
Oh my! I only go to bed for a few hours and everything is set up! Curse you, time zones!
Thank you! I think that because of the language difference as well as the fact she lives on the edge of town makes her a definite outsider, so she wouldn't particularly know anyone.
MST3K 4ever said
Some interesting dynamics. ...have to study them a bit more....although Justine (Going on first impressions) is very interesting.
Thank you! I think that because of the language difference as well as the fact she lives on the edge of town makes her a definite outsider, so she wouldn't particularly know anyone.
Abraham shrugged slightly, his eyes flicking between her and the dead vampire on the floor beside them both. "I can't say for certain, but there's always a chance." He told her, rubbing slowly at his head for a moment. She was so calm, like she'd had that happen before, or like she knew what the vampire was. Perhaps she had known? He opened his mouth again to speak, but changed his mind, closed it and hummed slightly.
He was careful to keep his distance as he supported her, looking around to check that the two of them were still safe. She didn't seem to approve of him, whether it was his method or the fact he was holding her in an alley way, dressed entirely in black. "He wouldn't have had a second thought about killing you. You're sage enough now, though." He tried to reassure her, keeping the exhaustion out of his voice.
He was careful to keep his distance as he supported her, looking around to check that the two of them were still safe. She didn't seem to approve of him, whether it was his method or the fact he was holding her in an alley way, dressed entirely in black. "He wouldn't have had a second thought about killing you. You're sage enough now, though." He tried to reassure her, keeping the exhaustion out of his voice.
Name : Justine Christophe
Age : 18
Gender : Female
Sexuality : Bisexual
Personality : Justine is chatty, and friendly, but a little hesitant to talk to some of her peers, because of the language barrier between them, as her first language is French. She is strong willed, and quick to become defensive if she feels threatened, though she doesn't know enough English to argue well.
History : Born and raised near Nice, on the southern coast of France, her parents were vineyard owners just a few miles out of the city. Her three brothers all adored rugby, and Justine had little choice but to learn to love the sport. As her brothers grew older, only one managed to retain his talent for rugby, moving to Paris to train for the professional teams.
Justine emigrated with her parents and younger brother to California a year and a half ago, and settled on the edge of Midcreek to establish their new vineyard and business in America. She still feels rather like an outsider, because of the new language she has to cope with, as well as all of the new school and her different interests to her peers.
America, however, had less support for the sport than in Europe, which somewhat disappointed her. Still, she played with her younger brother on the hills beyond their home, which was where she was when the explosion happened. Her two older brothers, still in France, believe she is dead, along with the rest of their family.
Appearance :
Clothing :A French rugby jersey, dark blue v-neck jumper, grey jeans and brown boots
Skills & Weaknessess : She's very sporty, and quite strong after years of handling farming equipment. However, she isn't particularly good at communicating, tending to panic easily and then become unable to properly translate what she wants to say in to English so that others can understand her.
Age : 18
Gender : Female
Sexuality : Bisexual
Personality : Justine is chatty, and friendly, but a little hesitant to talk to some of her peers, because of the language barrier between them, as her first language is French. She is strong willed, and quick to become defensive if she feels threatened, though she doesn't know enough English to argue well.
History : Born and raised near Nice, on the southern coast of France, her parents were vineyard owners just a few miles out of the city. Her three brothers all adored rugby, and Justine had little choice but to learn to love the sport. As her brothers grew older, only one managed to retain his talent for rugby, moving to Paris to train for the professional teams.
Justine emigrated with her parents and younger brother to California a year and a half ago, and settled on the edge of Midcreek to establish their new vineyard and business in America. She still feels rather like an outsider, because of the new language she has to cope with, as well as all of the new school and her different interests to her peers.
America, however, had less support for the sport than in Europe, which somewhat disappointed her. Still, she played with her younger brother on the hills beyond their home, which was where she was when the explosion happened. Her two older brothers, still in France, believe she is dead, along with the rest of their family.
Appearance :
Clothing :A French rugby jersey, dark blue v-neck jumper, grey jeans and brown boots
Skills & Weaknessess : She's very sporty, and quite strong after years of handling farming equipment. However, she isn't particularly good at communicating, tending to panic easily and then become unable to properly translate what she wants to say in to English so that others can understand her.
Am I too late to sign up?
Not as far as I can tell...
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