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SO MUCH FOR MY HAPPY ENDING
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Post by clementine valorie on Jan 14, 2016 2:06:48 GMT -7
[attr="class","puppy"] [attr="class","puppyicon"] [attr="class","puppypost"]peer pressure was awkward and fun at the same time. come the winter holidays and the wonderful sweetness of the end of semester, clementine was unwittingly dragged by her friends to the fascinating new place of mauville. she'd never been in the town before and stuck out awkwardly from all the people here. living in fortree had made her believe she'd have to climb all the buildings inorder to get inside so she found herself awkwardly fumbling about. her friends had teased her, which flustered her endlessly, so she'd snuck away to find her peace of mind.
carrying a rather adorable blush and a pretty pink purse and with curiosity in her eyes, she was so distinguishable as a tourist that it was almost laughable. whatever. she didn't need her friends' help or her parents' constant warnings. she was an adult now whether they liked it or not. she'd shop on her own accord and maybe help mauville set up a their festival. volunteer work was usually fun.
her mind was elsewhere as she wandered through the city, finding the thriving metropolis so out of place in her world that had almost been entirely made up of trees for the past few years. it was better than fortree- anything was. she wondered if she could try and sneak on a train to lavaridge--- her heart fluttered but her brain said otherwise. that era was dead and gone, and now all she had was--
urk. she looked up- she'd just run into an angry, odd looking boy that seemed to be a little older than her. her purse clattered to the ground and she gave him a glare before rushing to pick it up.
"s-sorry about that, i guess." she mumbled half heatedly, eyeing the stranger with cynical suspicion, a kind of trait she wished didn't come to her so naturally. after all, wasn't she here to relax? her eyes darted around, only coming to meet the stranger's a few times. |
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A feud in which a person seeks vengeance
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Post by DMITRI PETROV on Jan 15, 2016 6:17:05 GMT -7
the bourgeoisie eats comfortably, sleeps comfortably, well aware of the starving people left behind in the slums that they will turn a blind eye to. dmitri, born from these slums, grows to resent them all. he can't help but to meet every snobby, powdered face with a glower, narrowed eyes and a frown. he pulls his shabby, worn coat tight over him like dracula who fears the light. the winter's cold bites into your bones and makes them ache, as evident from his bedridden mother's laments he listens to. when he grows bored, he skulks out of their dilapidated shack and finds himself marvelling mauville's sights from above. the city's lights dazzle and blind passers-by from the cold, hard truth hidden away from sight. his eyes scan them. there are people out and about this wintery day, but dmitri is scanning for a specific kind of target. the ones with gleaming silver peeking out from their pockets, the ones foolish enough to travel alone, the frail sort that concern themselves with dirt on their petticoats - none are safe from his discerning gaze. his target is sighted two blocks away; he makes judgement on her movements, and he goes out of sight. the collision is almost accidental - dmitri won't say he was deliberately attempting to bump into her, but he wouldn't have gone out of the way to avoid it. "no, allow me," he croons with an accent so fake he feels like he could gag. he's learnt how the grubby gentleman around these parts act. he swipes her purse and gives it a light dusting, holding it out with a wry smile. "apologies," he mutters. "gotta be careful with that there, missy," he points to her baggage, eyes shiftily watching the crowd. "these parts are teeming with snatchers. wouldn't want you getting injured or anything now."clementine valorie
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SO MUCH FOR MY HAPPY ENDING
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Post by clementine valorie on Jan 16, 2016 20:56:33 GMT -7
[attr="class","puppy"] [attr="class","puppyicon"] [attr="class","puppypost"] clementine doesn't think anything of the difference between the rich and the poor- the girl's never had the kind of encounter where any of the two parties try to cross the line that divides them. she's never walked that borderline so closely as she's doing now, unaware that the accent is fake or that the guise is forced. "oh, no you don't have to--" too late, he's already picking up her purse.
"right," she says, nodding and taking the purse back from him, a little to hasty. she eyes him top to bottom: suspicion is second nature to her and the man seems a little off. she can't quite put her finger on it but her intuition is telling her something. she shakes her head, trying to get out of it.
"thanks for your concern, but i'm fine." the blonde obviously doesn't like the idea of being looked down on by a local just because she isn't one. she begins walking away, towards the crowd, towards the light. strangers aren't really important to her, so why stay to exchange a few meaningless words?
but she slows down while walking, fortunately or not still within the darkness provided by the little alley and still some ten steps till the light. she mumbles one thing or the other, wondering where the right direction is. she doesn't want to turn back now for the way she brushed the stranger off, but it seems like she's stuck.
on the borderline she hadn't ever walked before.
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