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Post by MEREDIA AUDREY ROTH on Aug 8, 2013 6:47:27 GMT
Today was just one of those days. Meredia had woken up in a fog, desperately trying to piece together the events of the previous night. She'd met someone... 'Bee,' from her notes, and probably had a decent time. Well, decent enough that she had a hangover. The mermaid supposed that it could have been worse – she could have woken up with a stranger in her bed who she had absolutely no memory – or notes – of, and had to break the news to them that she had a brain tumor, blah, blah, blah. That person, and she did recall this part, had accused her of being a 'lying slut,' and that had basically ruined her entire week. Now, she was simply bound to a fog and a pounding, throbbing headache that didn't even seem to get better with aspirin. Part of Meredia wanted to call this 'Bee' person, see if she was any worse for the wear, but she wondered if she'd even know where to begin, and that was if she had the woman's phone number. For a moment, she considered calling her friend Jamie, but she wouldn't know where to go with that, either. 'Oh hey, I woke up with this random hangover and I think I might have gotten into some crazy shenanigans with this mystery person' could only go so far, and she knew it. Meredia had handled rough mornings before, but for some reason on this particular morning, she had never felt more alone.
And she thought she was adjusting so well to life on her own.
However, determined to be the optimist that she was – even though she couldn't shake this terrible feeling in her gut that she had done things that she wouldn't exactly be proud of – Meredia had rolled out of bed and decided to have a productive day, despite the hangover and the crappy overall feeling she was having. Therefore, she packed her things and went to the zoo. Something about nature, or just the animals, was usually enough to give her some kind of focus, some kind of mental reserve and help her pick herself up by her bootstraps. Also, for some stranger reason, it was an incredible place to write. Meredia had notes about 'best places to write' in her newest journal, and apparently there was a bench in the aviary where she had written a few of her better pieces that she'd submitted to the record label she was working for last month. Even though she was an aquatic creature, the serenity of birds floating around her head – although sometimes she worried about being pooped on – was enough to get those creative juices flowing.
After a few minutes of wandering around the zoo and taking in various exhibits, Meredia found the little bench and took a seat, then grabbed her notebook out of the bag she brought with her. She watched a hawk flying overhead, and smiled... the sunlight was still a little bright, and she could feel her temple starting to throb again, but maybe it would all be over soon. Then, she caught sight of something making a lot of noise behind her, and she turned around, noticing that it was a person. Meredia didn't know why or care, but she responded in a grumpy way that wasn't usually like her. ”Hey, some of us are trying to enjoy ourselves here, so can you kindly shut the hell up?” Wow, harsh. Meredia tapped her pen against her notebook and bit the inside of her cheek kind of hard, then made a little note in the margins of her journal page. “Cut down on the drinking, it turns you into a major bitch.” Simple wisdom, she thought – hopefully, she'd remember to follow it in the future.
OUTFIT:
[/color] Here!WORDS:[/color] 635 [/blockquote][/justify]
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No one mourns the wicked, no one cries they won't return
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Post by THOMAS RAPHAEL EVERDEEN on Aug 19, 2013 10:32:50 GMT
[/style][style=width:408; height:5;background:343867; color: eaeaea] hi you seem to be lost, not to be found And how does it feel To be the one whose always in the way. To be the words that never made the page. Be the one that's always Left out in the rain. Is there a place within for redemption, Is there a voice inside with a decision. And if so when, and if so then, where's the conviction --------------------------------- it was a surprising fact that thomas in fact did not hate the zoo. as astounding as it might sound for some gloomy ghost who basically seemed to hate everybody and everything, the zoo seemed to be the place where people were at least too busy focusing on their monkey family members that often showed way too much resemblance to themselves without them noticing it, than on bothering him. It was quite easy for thomas to whine and nag about everything surrounding him, but he found it way more entertaining to just burn everything down with his biting sarcasm, and for some reason that drew even more people to him, even though it was beyond him why people would want to be around someone who seemed to have as much brightness and joy in him as a black hole sucking up all the planets surrounding it and causing mass destruction, and also being the champ in making things disappear. people always seemed to love bugging him or they didn't realize how much they were truly bugging him, and saw his sarcasm as a joke. it wasn't. everything thomas said was a true thing, and the only persons he had ever been remotely nice to were rosabella and that harper girl, who had grown on him cause to posttraumatic shizznizz and all that other bull. he didn't know what it was, he just wanted her to stop crying and wanted her to stop crying at that moment, and he'd admit it, female tears were his weakness, he couldn't handle them. they made the stone-cold ghost grow weak.
and now the stupid werewolf girl had grown on him, gave him a soft spot just for her and as much as he hated it, he couldn't stop it either, and his cynical behavior somehow softened towards her. thomas could be sweet and caring to the right people, those people just didn't exist in big numbers. groaning to himself he just didn't want to think about any of it, he just wanted to be left alone and for people to let him live his eternity in his solitude because that's the way he had planned it to be. he did not want people to like him, or make him like being here, because basically he knew that at some point he'd have to move on, and the less people he was attached to, the easier the cross-over would go. it was all so logical, and thomas loved logics, because emotions did not seem to be his forte at all. and as he walked over the streets in his casual human clothes that were so different from the ones he had been used to wear, in a world that was so different from what it had been when he was alive. Back then nobody could have ever guessed things would look like this these days, and he was sure that anybody claiming it would be, would have been called a lunatic and put to death, like everybody who did not fit in was put to death. It was a barbaric, yet very common thing to happen, in such a way that you even grew used to it.
so now the ghost found himself wandering around the zoo, contemplating on whether he would not haunt the place for a while here, seemed like a lot of fun and scaring innocent civilians had always been something he found rather amusing. the looks on their faces, the rumours, the "legends", yes he digged all of that, and if rosabella quit moving from place to place all the time, maybe he could have become his own ghost story along the way, how awesome would that have been? but for now he just decided to be a good boy, which was a miracle in itself, as he strolled along the exhibits of the animals, mocking all the petty little humans who were staring with their mouths wide open, as if this was the first monkey they had seen in their entire life, forgetting they were looking at one in the mirror each and every day. but then he caught a girl sneering at a few kids somewhere down the road, which made him curve an eyebrow, and then decided she'd be the one to mess with today. so before she could notice him, thomas turned invisible, leaving some people who saw him vanish in thin air rather flabbergasted, but fuck the police, so thomas thought. he stayed invisible until he was sitting next to her on the bench, scooting a little closer and then popped back into solidity, just like that. "girls like you shouldn't drink so much if you can't handle it." he said in his best, morally correct voice. he could have a little fun with this. "my name is thomas, i am your conscience and you are hallucinating. congratulations."
810 words | oh thomas xD
hi hi
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Post by MEREDIA AUDREY ROTH on Aug 23, 2013 8:48:13 GMT
Everyone was so happy at the zoo, and usually Meredia would have been one of those 'shiny, happy' people, but today she just wasn't. Today, she couldn't muster up the ability to do damn near anything because her head was pounding something fierce, and the tumor wasn't cooperating by giving her hardly any of her memories, and this was precisely why she tried not to drink so much. Apparently whoever this 'Bee' person was, she was something of a charmer, a sweet-talker that helped Meredia find her way all the way to the bottom of the bottle, and now she was in hell. Suffering. That's exactly what she was doing at the zoo, suffering. Usually, the mermaid didn't mind he sounds of happy people wandering around, the sight of smiling faces as children cooed and aww'd over the animals in their various habitats, but today it was... exhausting. Meredia shook her head and tried to find peace in the aviary, hoping that she could at least make some progress on a song that she had been working on. It seemed like this particular one had been sitting for a while – for some reason, she'd forgotten to date it, and then just ended up forgetting – and she felt a need to get it done. Especially because her memory was always fuzzy and usually ended up skipping entire events, days, etc, she felt like leaving projects undone was not only detrimental to her career, but irresponsible. There had been a few times when she knew she was on to something brilliant, and then had forgotten where she put it, didn't slap a date onto it, or just plain left it behind somewhere, and never got it back. When things were lost to Meredia, more often than not, they were just lost. Gone forever, unless she found them again by some completely random happenstance or other stroke of luck.
It was like her damn diary. She knew that, as a grown woman it was probably slightly juvenile to keep a diary, but it helped her keep her thoughts and know what had been going on not only recently, but in the past. For her, it was just another way of note taking, of meticulously spelling out the people she'd met, the events in her life that had been worth remembering, and even past events that she remembered in snippets here and there. Sometimes, she was lucky enough to get flashes of a memory, even if she couldn't usually place it somewhere in a direct time line. Meredia had lost so many diaries over the years, but there had been one in particular; one that she had years worth of material in, that had gotten left behind. Probably during her move from New York City to Manuka, but she couldn't be sure. Time line, like she said, was kind of the bane of her existence, and she tried her hardest not to continuously ask her parents to keep track of her belongings for her. No, if she was going to prove that she could live responsibly and on her own, the mermaid deigned that it was only fair for her to make mistakes, lose things, forget things, so she could learn from her mistakes, start a new diary, and remind herself to get into a routine where she wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
That was part of the reason why she was beating herself up so hard about whatever had happened the night before. Meredia had thought that she'd gotten past all of that, had taught herself to be more careful, especially where alcohol was involved, because it wasn't like she didn't have a hard enough time remembering things while she was completely sober. She hadn't gotten a chance to journal the previous night's events in-depth because she had likely been too drunk to care, or hadn't even made it home. There was something unsettling about the fact that Meredia honestly didn't know if the clothes she was wearing were new ones or the ones she'd been wearing the night before, or if she'd gone home to shower before she headed out to the zoo. Trying to be subtle, she sniffed the hem of her shirt, wondering if she'd get a hint of booze and other debauchery that would make her more ashamed than proud. Thankfully, she smelled clean, like her soap, which was better than she expected.
The noise followed, interrupting her thoughts, and she moved to snap at who or whatever was making the racket, and when she turned, she was face-to-face with a rather handsome guy. Even though her vision was a little blurry, she could tell he was attractive, but she hadn't seen him appear from anywhere, and the words he was saying just didn't make any sense. That, and she could kind of peg him as the 'sarcastic asshole' type. Even though she had giant gaps in her memory, she wasn't dumb. ”I don't really remember drinking so much, but most of the time, I assure you I can handle it. Besides, I wasn't really asking for your opinion, so...” Yeah, she was grumpy, and actually rude for a minute, but mostly because the guy was trying to weave some line of bullshit that she caught immediately, fixing him with an incredulous glare. ”Well, Thomas, it's awfully nice of you to pick on the hungover girl who doesn't even remember how she got to be this hungover. You're a stand-up guy. And so you know, I'm not buying the whole 'hallucination' bit, since I wasn't born yesterday.”
Meredia drummed her pen on the paper in her lap, then sighed. ”If you plan on sticking around, I'm Meredia. Although I still don't know how you got here, and I don't appreciate being lied to.”
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