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Post by edmund ryder worthington on Jun 21, 2012 15:35:09 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ]i got dosed by you  WORDS 1097 TAGGED BECCA As a millionaire-business man, people didn't expect you to be responsible for yourself. There would always be somebody else ready and willing to make you three meals a day, with more courses than your stomach could handle, adding desserts with names you had a hard time pronouncing and international wines that guests would compliment for days after they'd dined at your place. There would always be someone to make sure your sheets were clean and that your bed was made every morning, and that when you woke up and sat up your comfy bunny slippers were ready and waiting for you at the foot of your bed. Your worn clothes would disappear in the middle of the night and turn up in the closets the next day, washed and dry and clean. Your socks and tie would always be laid out of you by the time you come out of your bathroom smelling like brand name shampoo and soap, but always, always, you were left alone. The efficiency of the people that worked to clean after you and keep you fed was that they left no trace that they were there except a job well done, after all. When he was younger, he used to think there were leprauchans working for his Father. He doubted he'd ever seen his Mother lift up a fair uncalloused hand to attend to a household chore, though if he needed a shoelace tying up she was more than willing to bend down. Those little gestures he had loved more than the seemingly mechanically operated household, where you could get what you wanted but never knew where you were getting it from or who was doing it for you.
His married life had been different, though. It was a time of give and take. A time of waking up sunkissed to a sleeping wife curled up into his body, and stepping out from the shower to find the bed still messy and his clothes waiting to be picked in their closets. Somehow, when he'd come out fresh from a steamy shower and spy Annaleise's toes peeking out from beneath the duvet, he'd always smiled, recalling that only the night before she'd promised that this time would be different, this time she'd wake up in the morning to attend to him. But she was always the one who coaxed him out of his work station in the middle of a lazy afternoon as he went over his books, and took him shopping. He didn't think there was a chance of a fridge going empty until she'd purposefully marched towards the vegetable aisles and demanded he picked up the things he wanted for dinner, even as he laughed and told her he wasn't a fan of vegetables. They'd gotten home from their first shopping excursion and fired the servants. No, that sounds too romantic and careless - he didn't simply fire them, he appointed them jobs in various hotels of his hotel chain, so that their families didn't have to suffer now that he had one of his own and was experimenting how to make the best of the experience.
It was three months and two days since the experience had come to an abrupt and heartshattering end, even though time could have cease to exist, for all he knew. He went through the daily motions of day to day life, he was, as always, a hundred and ten percent at work, he'd never taken a sick leave, he'd never gotten drunk or abused substance as appealing as it had become to him, and yet the time inside his body seemed to have come to a standstill. He could still remember the way her lashes nestled against her skin, the freckles that dotted her nose, the elegant poise in her eyebrows as she mockingly questioned his theories. Her wit and her charm, he missed that too. He'd been so caught up in the way she sipped her tea and crinkled her nose, the way she lay in bed to read the newspaper and the tousled love in her eyes when he woke her in the morning that he wondered if he'd even taken the time to let her know how beautiful and perfect she had been, and how she'd turned his world upside down. It was suffice to say that when he loved, he loved with a love that was more than love itself, revolving around the woman that had managed to win his heart, giving her the world that she rightly deserved, because not just anybody could excite and amuse him.
But loving someone so selflessly rendered you a broken when they left you. Maybe they didn't mean to, maybe it tore them apart to leave you too, but the end result is the same, that you were left alone, carrying around in your chest a cavity where someone else used to be, and for Ed it was a wife-shaped-hole. To say he missed her was an understatement, to say he was haunted would sum it up nicely. He couldn't get her face out of his mind. She was there when he was in the bathroom, she was there in the bed sleeping with him, she was there when he was at a conference, watching him. It tore him apart to feel her so close to him and yet be unable to reach out for her. And he wanted to. He wanted to find her in the places they'd always been, he wanted to find some way to bring her back. That would explain how he'd ended up in the Valkyrie Walmart, standing aloof and a little lost in the grocery store. He didn't know where to start. He hadn't been shopping since she died. He hadn't hired back his servants, but he'd lived the past few months off take-away or order-ins, varying his meals between chinese food and pizza that he ate over the sink because he didn't want to clean up the mess afterwards. The house echoed with all the things she used to do, all the places she used to fill. And standing in the grocery store, she was there next to him too, but she wasn't who she'd been when she was alive. She didn't laugh, she didn't reach out, she wasn't warm. She was aloof and distant and cold, nothing but a reminder that she had once existed, that he had once loved her. She wasn't going to help him pick up the groceries, that he had to figure out himself, though he didn't know where to start.
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Post by shiloh on Jun 22, 2012 15:28:25 GMT -6
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---SHE'D GROWN UP HERE IN VALKYRIE. the majority of her life had been spent within these city limits, and it was extremely uncomfortable to be back. then again, she had felt completely and utterly alone the last few years, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel so alone anymore. that was because she had her best friend back though, and somebody to live with. the memories of her childhood had been corrupted with pain and suffering. death was a prominent figure in her past, and it was easier to block everything out, even if that included the good things. she'd forgotten about the things she used to love about her parents, but that was a little too close for comfort to be remembering, so she left the faded images buried deep within her subconscious. people like tristan, however? no, she was willing to remember that. tristan had been the only person she bothered to keep in touch with after leaving valkyrie, she was the basically family, the closest thing to it shiloh had anymore. she hadn't talked to her extended family in australia since her mom's funeral. it was no secret that she was destructive and selfish. shiloh would be the first to admit it, she was more than willing to acknowledge her flaws. in her opinion, her family was better off without her, because if they didn't know the truth they could still imagine her as sweet, and fiery, the little niece or cousin they had grown accustomed to over the years. they were still allowed to hope and believe she was good, better. it was very rare that she would communicate with them, sending a letter of consoling white lies so they'd think she was fine. she was protecting them. they'd already lost so many loved ones, they didn't need to believe they had lost her too. that was too much heartache for a family to handle. not only that, but she didn't want to be found, or saved, or healed. she didn't want to be fixed, because she wasn't broken. her life may be a mess, but she did it by her own choice.
maybe she was in denial.
it was different with tristan though. they were so much alike, they'd fallen down such similar paths that they were different variations of the same person. tristan was the only person she could be her complete honest self around and not feel like a wave of judgment and disapproval was going to wash over her. it was ironic, considering she and tristan weren't quite honest people in general. they hid behind shadows and drown their sorrows in unhealthy ways. two of a kind. maybe it wasn't healthy, but it was the only way shiloh was able to function anymore. she wasn't going to be able to change. it wasn't like she was killing herself, or even considering it. she had a rough run, all she was trying to do was settle down and relax. humanity wouldn't allow for that though, because there was a strict perimeter around what actions and lifestyles were socially acceptable and which ones weren't. well a good portion of valkyrie's population wasn't exactly living the typical american dream, though people liked to pretend that wasn't true and that their blissful beachside paradise was uninfected by the virus of criminals scurrying around, blowing up buildings. they were foolish and unwilling to admit their world had been corrupted with disease and deception. they judged everybody based on the sins that stained their skin, but were unaware of the pollution set in their own hearts. everybody was flawed, and to deny it was only another flaw on top of that. people sinned differently, and humans were drawn to hating those who gave into sins that weren't a temptation for themselves personally, yet those being judged were the ones strong enough to resist whatever was tempting the self-righteous. it was a never-ending circle of stupidity, and shiloh refused to be a part of it. she knew she had problems, that was why she was home, after all. had she thought her lifestyle suited her, she would have stayed in boston, and probably never would have looked twice at valkyrie, california. she knew it was unhealthy though, and dangerous. that was why she'd come home, despite the looks of askance and whispers she would overhear as she walked through the grocery isle. if only these people had known the whole story, every last detail. they would have burned her at the stake.
ever since she had left valkyrie during the second semester of her senior year, her life had been a mess. she'd gone to rehab up north in the bay area for six months simply because she had fallen apart, though the rumor was that she moved back to australia. nobody except her friends knew for sure. enduring the six month sentence was a breeze, simple. it even helped. but the thing about rehab was that it curbed addiction, it didn't cure it. rehab was the process of building up enough strength and willpower to no longer pursue an addictive lifestyle, but it didn't stop the craving or the temptations. it wasn't quite that easy. in a contained environment the choice was simple, no substance abuse. it was easy to think clearly. once she had been released, however, it was like her own personal demons rose from hell and began pulling her in the direction of her old habits again, screaming at her to follow them and curb the cravings. she had nowhere to go anymore, and she definitely wasn't going back to valkyrie to perform a walk of shame, so she'd decided to wander. yes, wander. she was drifting aimlessly throughout the country, getting rides wherever she could, exploring, and most of all, she was dirt poor the entire time. sometimes she went days without food before she finally scrounged up the money to buy herself a meal. she hitchhiked along major highways, getting rides with old couples and truck drivers alike. lucky for her, nobody particularly devious or evil had decided to pick her up, so she lived through it. finally she'd ended up in boston. under normal circumstances, she would have loved the city. she would have adored the history behind it, the art weaved with the story of the past. art was her passion. but at that point in her life, she was just trying to stay alive, to do something that would keep her flying on a steady course through the storm. not only that, but each and every day she missed the pills, she missed the experimentation with new substances. it got to the point where she became so desperate for money for not only her food, but for drugs, that she began to sell her body. she'd never been particularly prudish, but she would never have expected to fall into such a profession. it didn't suit her, but she managed through it, doing her work in exchange for cash. she lived that way for a good year or two, give or take. she was miserable and broken, but each time she injected the euphoria into her body, the pain went away for a while and it was all worth it. but not all that glitters is gold.
after an abusive incident, she realized she needed to get out of boston, and that was when she'd called tristan. as soon as she'd arrived in town, her friend had welcomed her and they'd found some apartment to move into, and here she was today, freshly back in her home town, conflicted about her feelings of returning. she felt dirty, like nobody was going to accept her back into a normal society, like she'd be stuck in that place forever. a part of her missed it, because she felt desirable, but it wasn't healthy. she knew that. she also knew that she was eternally corrupt for her decisions, but there wasn't much she could do about that now. she had her dreams, dreams that probably wouldn't come true. she was afraid to even speak of them because it might plant the seed of hope in her heart, and hope was horrible. it had the power to crush a soul. her soul was bruised and beaten enough, she didn't need it to be smothered into oblivion. regardless of what became of her, she was trying to adjust. she'd gotten a job at ej kane's repair shop, and by night she worked as a coyote in the coyote ugly style bar, bad seeds. and then she had tristan. her life was almost normal, and yet she still felt hollow inside. boston had killed her, turning her ruby blood black, freezing her heart. euphoria only lasted so long. but she was trying, and that's why she had gone to walmart that day. she and tristan were in need of food, and well, she took the first grocery run into her own hands. although, considering she hadn't been eating very healthy lately she wasn't really sure what to buy. she walked into the building, relieved as the cool air conditioning danced around her face and body upon entrance. she'd been craving bacon lately, so maybe that was a good place to start. unfortunately, through the vast expanse of the supermarket, she wasn't quite she which direction to begin her mundane odyssey. without paying much attention, she turned on the balls of her feet to a person a couple feet to her right, facing the opposite direction,"hey, do you know where i might find some bacon?" she asked bluntly, the australian accent lacing tightly with her words like a foreign melody. when the man turned around, she could feel her eyes widening, her jaw dropping, "edmund?"
[/justify] - - - - - - - (STATUS) finished. (TAGGED) lola/ed<3 (WORDS) 1,632 (OUTFIT) click. (COMMENTS) d'aww. sorry this is awkward. haha. (CREDITS) lyrics; "boston" augustana.
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