Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
A few things you should know about myself.
First off, please know that ...
♥ I write past tense and third person, and I ask that you do the same!
♥ Also, I'm relatively impartial to what role or gender I play in most plots. That being said, I don't know how well I portray a male versus a female, but I'll promise to give full dedication regardless.
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If you have an idea that's not at all related to what's listed above, feel free to message me and let me know what you've got in mind. I'm very eager to find someone with paralleled interests.
♥ Also, I'm relatively impartial to what role or gender I play in most plots. That being said, I don't know how well I portray a male versus a female, but I'll promise to give full dedication regardless.
☆ Equal effort - Even if everyones writing abilities may differ a bit, that doesn't have to mean a good roleplay can't still happen. Grammar and style aside, I ask that you are offering material that I can respond to. If you're having trouble coming up with what to do, tell me in OoC. We are partners and that means it's normal to brainstorm together.
☆R.E.S.P.E.C.T. - Find out what it means to me. Ehh, I'm showing my age a tad. In all seriousness though, I do expect respect from those I write with, and will return the very same. This includes, but is not limited to: how you speak to me (Not my characters, mind you. Out of characters we are equals, regardless of what roles we may have while in them), controlling my characters (which shouldn't be happening unless agreed upon before your reply), and privacy of my materials.
☆Patience - I work full time and while I enjoy writing significantly, it isn't my only hobby. I request you be patient when awaiting a reply as generally I'm just preoccupied either at work (where I don't have the luxury of my phone, save for on my breaks) or I could be otherwise engaged. Not to mention I also enjoy sleeping on occasion. If you feel it has been a truly excessive time with no response, feel free to send me a nudge, but that shouldn't happen within a day.
☆Openness - Communication is important in much more than just dialogue. If you're getting bored, again, let me know. If you need a day or so off, understandable, everyone loses their muse now and then. Just please. Please. Please! Tell me! It breaks my heart when I am enjoying a story and after a week my partner stops responding, I sit around with the chat for (literally) three months waiting, only to have them leave without a single word. Also, it's pretty offputting for future potential stories.
☆R.E.S.P.E.C.T. - Find out what it means to me. Ehh, I'm showing my age a tad. In all seriousness though, I do expect respect from those I write with, and will return the very same. This includes, but is not limited to: how you speak to me (Not my characters, mind you. Out of characters we are equals, regardless of what roles we may have while in them), controlling my characters (which shouldn't be happening unless agreed upon before your reply), and privacy of my materials.
☆Patience - I work full time and while I enjoy writing significantly, it isn't my only hobby. I request you be patient when awaiting a reply as generally I'm just preoccupied either at work (where I don't have the luxury of my phone, save for on my breaks) or I could be otherwise engaged. Not to mention I also enjoy sleeping on occasion. If you feel it has been a truly excessive time with no response, feel free to send me a nudge, but that shouldn't happen within a day.
☆Openness - Communication is important in much more than just dialogue. If you're getting bored, again, let me know. If you need a day or so off, understandable, everyone loses their muse now and then. Just please. Please. Please! Tell me! It breaks my heart when I am enjoying a story and after a week my partner stops responding, I sit around with the chat for (literally) three months waiting, only to have them leave without a single word. Also, it's pretty offputting for future potential stories.
☆Maturity - Not to be confused with sexuality, boys and girls. This is meant that as a seasoned writer, I offer the full decade of experience I have of experience for you to work with. I can bring a few things I've learned over time, but am also open to expanding. As a forewarning, I don't keep up with a lot of the trends and lingo. I may never get acronyms, so be braced if I have to ask a dumb question.
☆A return of everything that I expect, which us quite self explanatory.
☆Likely too many side stories about my pets and family. Feel free to tell me when they get to be too much.
☆Dry sarcasm. It's an undying trait that comes with the occasional puns.
☆A return of everything that I expect, which us quite self explanatory.
☆Likely too many side stories about my pets and family. Feel free to tell me when they get to be too much.
☆Dry sarcasm. It's an undying trait that comes with the occasional puns.
☆First person - I strictly write in third person. I also expect responses to be in first person. Preferably past tense.
☆Structure - While I don't anticipate anyone to have perfect grammar or spelling, I do want sentence structure. Actions will not be dictated with any symbols.
☆Fan fiction - I debated putting this in hard limits because there are (on rare occasions) times I will write fan fiction or as some refer now, canon. The chances of this are super, super slim. Whether it's a TV series, anime, book, movie, or those YouTube things I don't fully understand, I don't keep up enough to have a wide enough knowledge. I am uncomfortable trying to represent someone else's writing, and so I stick to original content.
☆I will not give out contact information to any other media. Snapchat, KiK, Facebook, Skype, you name it. I have this app and it is plenty sufficient. If we have been writing for a while and are comfortable, this might, change, but do not count on it.
☆While mentioned earlier, I want to retouch on respect. Again, characters are allowed their persona, which I will not control, but that freedom does not extend to other writers. I will not tolerate sexism, racism, derogatory comments, hate speech, or any form a threat.
☆Structure - While I don't anticipate anyone to have perfect grammar or spelling, I do want sentence structure. Actions will not be dictated with any symbols.
☆Fan fiction - I debated putting this in hard limits because there are (on rare occasions) times I will write fan fiction or as some refer now, canon. The chances of this are super, super slim. Whether it's a TV series, anime, book, movie, or those YouTube things I don't fully understand, I don't keep up enough to have a wide enough knowledge. I am uncomfortable trying to represent someone else's writing, and so I stick to original content.
☆I will not give out contact information to any other media. Snapchat, KiK, Facebook, Skype, you name it. I have this app and it is plenty sufficient. If we have been writing for a while and are comfortable, this might, change, but do not count on it.
☆While mentioned earlier, I want to retouch on respect. Again, characters are allowed their persona, which I will not control, but that freedom does not extend to other writers. I will not tolerate sexism, racism, derogatory comments, hate speech, or any form a threat.
Muse A is young and naïve, always looking for trouble. They finally find it with Muse B, an older, cooler type that they encounter somewhere they have no business being with their fake ID. Muse B is attracted to Muse A on a physical level, but once Muse A’s age reveals itself, Muse B lays down the harsh truth: they’re not interested in anything beyond a one night stand and they’re definitely not what Muse A needs (and vice versa). Reluctant to let the opportunity to be with Muse B slip away, Muse A convinces Muse B to take them home. Lust clouds Muse B’s judgment and they let Muse A spend the night. In the heat of the moment, when the chemistry is so obviously there, Muse B says all the things Muse A wants to hear. Once it’s all over, however, Muse B’s attitude toward Muse A hasn’t changed–but Muse A doesn’t believe it’s a hopeless cause. Much to Muse B’s dismay, Muse A starts coming around to their place, hanging with their friends, finding little ways to push into their life in the hopes of showing Muse B how good they’d be together despite their difference in age. Muse B insists that their relationship will never be; yet Muse B can’t help sending mixed signals when they continue to fall into bed with Muse A. ♡♡ -Based on Girls by the 1975, listed on Plots for All
The world is comprised of four entities: Chaos, Order, Life, Death. Life and Order strive together to create harmonious eternity, while Chaos and Death will do anything and everything in their powers for domination of our world and the souls within it. A constant battle has raged, unknown to our blissful lives, fighting for each and every person, a teetering beam in need of balance. In need of a resolution, Life and Order have erected a champion who will represent themselves, bestowed with their gifts and blessings. To counter their champion, Death and Chaos have found their own representation. The two champions have been summoned to battle, and to the victor go the spoils...or in this case the world. - Could potentially be 4 people instead of 2.
Muse A, a starving visual art (dealer chooses medium) is struggling to make it through the vicious and unrelenting world. Just as things are starting to line up, Muse A awakes one day with an off feeling. Their works suddenly begin going missing, simultaneously word of strange sightings that turn out to be Muse A's works coming to life. A stranger to Muse A, Muse B is experiencing similar bizarre events. A musician, Muse B discovers their work can create color that manipulates the world around them. Will the Muses team together with their new found powers, or will ones demeanor result in them being enemies who must use new found powers to fight the other?
Muse A and Muse B were once sweetest couple but time changed and they ended, as many relationships do. Unknown to either of them, the other never stopped having feelings, but assumed they had, masking their own. Months/years later they stumble across each other. Will a romance light again, or will their own fear or stubbornness leave the truth hidden? - Based on Over You by Spill the Canvas. I envision a lot of internal dialogue in this.
A wealthy pair individually contacts two university students with an unusual request. Unable to have children of their own, they offer Muse A and Muse B a handsome figure for an exchange of the offspring they have always wanted. The Muses, selected for their favorable qualities, aren't to speak a word to another or the agreement is off. Can the two strangers get past their differences with a payoff so large?
Muse A is the daughter of a man with a serious gambling problem. He’s a sweet man, always doting on Muse A with her favorite books and rare flowers, but he’s up to his ears in debt after borrowing money from the wrong people. One afternoon, Muse A’s father is confronted by Muse B, the ruthless crime boss of the city. Few people have ever seen Muse B’s face, as his henchmen usually do his dirty work, but everyone knows his name and cowers in fear appropriately. Muse A’s father owes Muse B a considerable debt, which he cannot pay. Rather than kill the man, Muse B offers a trade – the man's beautiful daughter in exchange for the forgiveness of his financial debts. He has one night to make this deal happen or Muse B will come for him. When Muse A’s father explains the predicament to her, she is willing to go, as long as it ensures the safety of her family and her father promises to put an end to his troublesome gambling habits. Muse A moves in to Muse B’s mansion outside of town the following day. From the moment Muse A arrives, Muse B is on his best behavior, lavishing her with gifts – a library wing for her, a pretty garden filled with the finest, imported roses – jewelry, and so on. Gradually, Muse A comes to see that Muse B isn’t a horrible person, behind closed doors, but the circumstances of their arrangement (and the terrible crimes he commits as a crime boss) make it difficult for her to fall in love with him as he’s fallen in love with her. - Found on Plots for All
While driving home on a quiet backstreet, Muse A spots a wounded animal on the side of the road. Having a soft spot for suffering creatures, Muse A pulls over and scoops the animal up into the backseat of their car. Muse A drives home with the good intention of nursing the poor animal back to health, unaware that the animal (Muse B) is really a shapeshifter. After making a comfortable place for Muse B to sleep, Muse A heads off to bed. By morning, Muse B is feeling a bit better and they shift back into their human form just as Muse A enters the room to check up on them. Muse B tries their best to explain what’s going on without terrifying Muse A. According to shapeshifter law, Muse B now owes Muse A their loyalty and must stay with them until the debt is repaid. - On Plots for All, posted by ladylos
The night was young and the thrill of romance found Muse A in an environment they wouldn’t normally venture into, generally reserved and an introvert of the most extreme variety. Fate would have it that they were granted a wish for the night: to have the confidence and charisma they’d never had in hopes of finding a partnering soul. Little did Muse A know but the force who granted this wish required payment. Muse B, vain and well aware of it, finds themselves with none other than Muse A as the night progresses. Could this have been what the stars had in mind? As the night draws to a close and the confidence begins to falter, so does Muse B’s wellbeing and health. Did a night they would never forget need to end in morning that they can’t remember? - Muse B can be struck with a number of ailments, cancer, amnesia, etc, just something that’s going to bring reuniting difficult with their persona.
Muse A and Muse B are both inspiring to enter the war field that is the world of theater/art and willing to do whatever it takes to thrive. Fate would have it that they wind up in opposite roles of each other, and while they mesh well on stage, the moment the curtain falls they cannot tolerate each other. The tension present is visible to everyone else around them, leading to whispers that are bothersome to say the least. They come to the realization that to make their performance better, they need to sell more than their talent and decide they'll put on another show of a relationship to draw in the publicity. Unsurprisingly the public feasts on the juicy development and things begin soaring. With things going so well, the question arises of what will happen when the farce needs to end.
Everyone in town has their suspicions and beliefs when it comes to Muse A, the town 'crazy'. Younger children will insist their a witch or warlock and turns anyone who speaks to them into a toad. The older generations insist they're just a product of poor decisions and likely immense amounts of alcohol, unsafe to be around. Only one thing everyone can agree on; they're unwelcome. Muse B, eager to dive into a career as a writer is looking for the piece to give them that thrust into fame they need, comes to the small town when their car breaks down. Left with a week to waste away, talk reaches their ear of the mysterious Muse A. While likely just another town drunk or cast away, something catches Muse B's attention, and before long they're chasing after hints and clues to try and find Muse A, but when they're found, what will they do with the newfound truth when something this juicy just can't stay a secret for long.
The constant ringing of metal against metal, sharp and clashing, echoed through the hallways of the enamored palace, coming from a training arena. Within its confines, the blazing hair of the Lioness flitted about as she spun from direction to the other. Engaged in practice swordplay with one of the soldiers who had boasted a bit too loudly that he couldn’t be beaten, the two were locked in a heated engagement, overlooked by the ever-present Wrath. The lion was stretched along a wall, his massive form relaxed as his golden orbs followed the movement lazily.
Aslandria’s gold encrusted long sword flew about in fluid and precise movements, sunlight catching off the freshly polished blade and reflecting on to the walls around them. The encounter had been going on for well over twenty minutes, and it appeared to be enough to wear down the soldier and his gloating tongue. Both had sweat dripping along their brow as they were locked in a constant cycles of attacks and blocks, each learning the other's habits shortly into the fight. He had a clear advantage of height and force against her, but her smaller frame left her quick on his feet, prone to fading away from his assaults and switching the direction they moved in.
His broadsword slashed diagonally directly after blocking an upward attack of her own, aiming at her left thigh that was forward. Growing bored of his repetitive behavior, she faded away from attack, using her blade to shed his rather than stop it. His sword hit with incredible force that she quickly abandoned. Tightening her grip on the hilt, she pulled her blade away for a moment, bringing it down quickly in a butterfly arc and slicing into the soldier’s arm. The unexpected change had made him lose his footing and in turn his arm. Aslandria couldn’t help but watch with amusement as he realized the mistake he had made, the corners of her lips turned up in a smile.
“My arm!” he cried out, dropping his sword to grab the limb that was freely spurting blood on the floor. “Why in the hell would you do that? This was a practice round, you imbecile of a witch!” From the corner where he lazed, a rolling growl sounded from Wrath, amused, with his equivalent of a laugh. ‘You always pick the most foolish targets.’
“That I do,” the Lioness muttered, although the amusement of her companion didn’t echo on her face. Insults were the spark that set her ablaze, and it only seemed fitting that she return the favor to the loose-tongued, dimwit before her. “If you can’t survive a practice, you hardly deserve a true battle.Besides, it’s been too long since I’ve killed. I’ve grown bored.”
“You can’t just cut off someone’s arm when you’re bored!” he hissed at her, cussing as he fought the light-headedness.
“You’re right...that’s hardly helped to entertain me,” she agreed, glistening hues focused on him while her smile returned. Sheathing her sword, she gestured with a gloved hand, as if shooing him, an amethyst mist seeping from her hand. Within an instant, the mist closed the gap, furling around the soldier and paralyzing him just as flames erupted over his entire body. A look of utter terror echoed in his eyes as he was unable to fight or scream, his body collapsing on the ground.
‘You aren’t the only one who’s bored, you know,’ Wrath commented, rising from his resting place and padding over to her side. “Well you can eat him if you’d like,” she offered, drawing her hand inward and calling the hungry flames back to her. ‘You know how I feel about burnt food. Besides, flesh is best when raw.’
Shaking her head, she walked away from him, tussling her messy curls. It still wasn’t enough, nothing was enough. The Lioness had paced up and down the hallways dozens of times since they had been summoned back to the palace, as restless as a caged animal. Their mission hadn’t been entirely fulfilled, but after finding just one Janguine, they were forced to obey the Emperor’s commands and for what? She was forced in this nearly domestic setting while the rebellion scum were out flaunting about. The very thought made her enraged to the point she was nearly nauseous. “It’s NOT enough!” she bellowed in frustration, upsetting a rack of practice swords, the shout and clang of them scattering about echoing through the halls.
As the tantrum of the fiery redhead settled down, the familiar ringing voice of Malice traveled down the halls, catching Wrath’s attention while Aslandria was still absorbed in her own thoughts. Looking from the charcoaled remains of the bumptious soldier up to his companion, the lion gained her attention. ‘The Empress is calling for everyone to the throne room. It seems Kalizir has lost his patience,’ he commented in a nonchalant manner, shaking his vast mane.
“Well I’m glad it’s not just me,” the Lioness muttered, but knew she couldn’t keep her lieges waiting. Heading toward the hallway, she was quickly met by the bumbling moron of a chambermaid she had been assigned. The brainless buffoon was laden with a basket and was frantically rushing to meet up with her, a brush in hand. Aslandria grunted in response, knowing how vital appearances at court were, and that her own state was not the best. She stopped long enough for the maid to attempt to tame the rebellious curls and musk the smell of sweat from her duel before she continued to the throne room, Wrath padding along beside her.
Dressed in a forest green silk gown that flowed around her natural curves, revealing most of her back and a slit along her right leg that traveled to mid-thigh with golden embroidery, she was uncomfortable to say the least. Had the attire not been required for such a formal gathering, she would still be in her leather leggings and tunic, not stuffed into a corset like a torture device. She was not a creature of the court lifestyle, but would behave as instructed, an obedient arm of the throne.
The two entered the throne room late, just as many of their guests became puddles of mess, a sight Aslandria wasn’t phased by. Thankfully, Wrath had relayed the conversation they missed as they walked, commenting on the scene around them. ‘I wish someone would tell him that this is really a waste of perfectly good meat…’ Once more ignoring the requests to be vocalized by the pompous lion, she approached the royal family with a nod of her head. “Emperor, Empress,” she said to each in turn before emerald eyes flicked to Kalizir, remaining on his face as she spoke. “I would be honored if such a task was bestowed upon me. I know that...others...have failed prior requests, and I can assure you that I wouldn’t allow such humiliation to repeat itself on you or your wife.”
Aslandria’s gold encrusted long sword flew about in fluid and precise movements, sunlight catching off the freshly polished blade and reflecting on to the walls around them. The encounter had been going on for well over twenty minutes, and it appeared to be enough to wear down the soldier and his gloating tongue. Both had sweat dripping along their brow as they were locked in a constant cycles of attacks and blocks, each learning the other's habits shortly into the fight. He had a clear advantage of height and force against her, but her smaller frame left her quick on his feet, prone to fading away from his assaults and switching the direction they moved in.
His broadsword slashed diagonally directly after blocking an upward attack of her own, aiming at her left thigh that was forward. Growing bored of his repetitive behavior, she faded away from attack, using her blade to shed his rather than stop it. His sword hit with incredible force that she quickly abandoned. Tightening her grip on the hilt, she pulled her blade away for a moment, bringing it down quickly in a butterfly arc and slicing into the soldier’s arm. The unexpected change had made him lose his footing and in turn his arm. Aslandria couldn’t help but watch with amusement as he realized the mistake he had made, the corners of her lips turned up in a smile.
“My arm!” he cried out, dropping his sword to grab the limb that was freely spurting blood on the floor. “Why in the hell would you do that? This was a practice round, you imbecile of a witch!” From the corner where he lazed, a rolling growl sounded from Wrath, amused, with his equivalent of a laugh. ‘You always pick the most foolish targets.’
“That I do,” the Lioness muttered, although the amusement of her companion didn’t echo on her face. Insults were the spark that set her ablaze, and it only seemed fitting that she return the favor to the loose-tongued, dimwit before her. “If you can’t survive a practice, you hardly deserve a true battle.Besides, it’s been too long since I’ve killed. I’ve grown bored.”
“You can’t just cut off someone’s arm when you’re bored!” he hissed at her, cussing as he fought the light-headedness.
“You’re right...that’s hardly helped to entertain me,” she agreed, glistening hues focused on him while her smile returned. Sheathing her sword, she gestured with a gloved hand, as if shooing him, an amethyst mist seeping from her hand. Within an instant, the mist closed the gap, furling around the soldier and paralyzing him just as flames erupted over his entire body. A look of utter terror echoed in his eyes as he was unable to fight or scream, his body collapsing on the ground.
‘You aren’t the only one who’s bored, you know,’ Wrath commented, rising from his resting place and padding over to her side. “Well you can eat him if you’d like,” she offered, drawing her hand inward and calling the hungry flames back to her. ‘You know how I feel about burnt food. Besides, flesh is best when raw.’
Shaking her head, she walked away from him, tussling her messy curls. It still wasn’t enough, nothing was enough. The Lioness had paced up and down the hallways dozens of times since they had been summoned back to the palace, as restless as a caged animal. Their mission hadn’t been entirely fulfilled, but after finding just one Janguine, they were forced to obey the Emperor’s commands and for what? She was forced in this nearly domestic setting while the rebellion scum were out flaunting about. The very thought made her enraged to the point she was nearly nauseous. “It’s NOT enough!” she bellowed in frustration, upsetting a rack of practice swords, the shout and clang of them scattering about echoing through the halls.
As the tantrum of the fiery redhead settled down, the familiar ringing voice of Malice traveled down the halls, catching Wrath’s attention while Aslandria was still absorbed in her own thoughts. Looking from the charcoaled remains of the bumptious soldier up to his companion, the lion gained her attention. ‘The Empress is calling for everyone to the throne room. It seems Kalizir has lost his patience,’ he commented in a nonchalant manner, shaking his vast mane.
“Well I’m glad it’s not just me,” the Lioness muttered, but knew she couldn’t keep her lieges waiting. Heading toward the hallway, she was quickly met by the bumbling moron of a chambermaid she had been assigned. The brainless buffoon was laden with a basket and was frantically rushing to meet up with her, a brush in hand. Aslandria grunted in response, knowing how vital appearances at court were, and that her own state was not the best. She stopped long enough for the maid to attempt to tame the rebellious curls and musk the smell of sweat from her duel before she continued to the throne room, Wrath padding along beside her.
Dressed in a forest green silk gown that flowed around her natural curves, revealing most of her back and a slit along her right leg that traveled to mid-thigh with golden embroidery, she was uncomfortable to say the least. Had the attire not been required for such a formal gathering, she would still be in her leather leggings and tunic, not stuffed into a corset like a torture device. She was not a creature of the court lifestyle, but would behave as instructed, an obedient arm of the throne.
The two entered the throne room late, just as many of their guests became puddles of mess, a sight Aslandria wasn’t phased by. Thankfully, Wrath had relayed the conversation they missed as they walked, commenting on the scene around them. ‘I wish someone would tell him that this is really a waste of perfectly good meat…’ Once more ignoring the requests to be vocalized by the pompous lion, she approached the royal family with a nod of her head. “Emperor, Empress,” she said to each in turn before emerald eyes flicked to Kalizir, remaining on his face as she spoke. “I would be honored if such a task was bestowed upon me. I know that...others...have failed prior requests, and I can assure you that I wouldn’t allow such humiliation to repeat itself on you or your wife.”
Thunder cracked in the distance as the city quickly became drenched by the downpour that followed, although little could be done to stop the monotonous daily routines of it’s inhabitants. Windshield wipers and umbrellas were quickly wielded to allow the day to continue on with little to no notice of the gentle storm that brewed. Even those who were out in the elements seemed determined not to let the change in weather get in their way, moving quickly and with their heads down, blissfully unaware of so much around them. A small, rickety shelter that loomed over a worn sign now reading ‘PUS STOI ‘ was gradually filling with a variety of individuals, waiting for their daily commute.
A young girl who was being lead around by a woman who barely seemed old enough to be a mother fought for her attention. The woman, eyes glued to the illuminated screen of her mobile phone made passive comments, but did not engage the child. Sighing, the rosey-cheeked girls attention turned to a tall man who leaned up against a corner of the shelter. Dressed in a black shirt with a v-neck and casual jeans, with little to shelter him from the rain but a black knit hat, he seemed odd. Her mother busy, the child approached the young man.
“Why don't you have a coat on?” she asked, wide eyes glancing at his arms, shrined from his wrists to where the sleeves stopped view. The young man, who had been observing the situation, one ear deaf to the world from music, offered a sideways smile to the girl.
“I guess I'm just not as smart as you when it comes to planning ahead,” he offered with a chuckle, one hand rubbing along his temple where a few ginger locks had managed to break free of his cap.
“Nah, my mom just made me,” she answered with a shrug of her shoulders, seemingly already bored of the topic. “How come your arms are all covered in tattoos?”
He didn't answer immediately, although he should have been able to. After all, it was a question he was frequently asked. Many people not only pondered why he had chosen such an undeniable life choice, especially as young as he was, but others even chastised him for it. “I have so many tattoos because I have so many stories I want to tell,” he finally settled on.
The young girl wasn't satisfied, and she pressed further, even taking a step closer to examine the art more closely. “If you want to tell a story, why not just write it down? Wouldn't that work just as well.”
He chuckled again, amused by the naive child who clearly showed the beginning of curiosity that could open doors for her. “Sometimes, we have stories we want to tell, but words don't always exist to tell the story for us. That is where art comes in.”
“Why don't you have a coat on?” she asked, wide eyes glancing at his arms, shrined from his wrists to where the sleeves stopped view. The young man, who had been observing the situation, one ear deaf to the world from music, offered a sideways smile to the girl.
“I guess I'm just not as smart as you when it comes to planning ahead,” he offered with a chuckle, one hand rubbing along his temple where a few ginger locks had managed to break free of his cap.
“Nah, my mom just made me,” she answered with a shrug of her shoulders, seemingly already bored of the topic. “How come your arms are all covered in tattoos?”
He didn't answer immediately, although he should have been able to. After all, it was a question he was frequently asked. Many people not only pondered why he had chosen such an undeniable life choice, especially as young as he was, but others even chastised him for it. “I have so many tattoos because I have so many stories I want to tell,” he finally settled on.
The young girl wasn't satisfied, and she pressed further, even taking a step closer to examine the art more closely. “If you want to tell a story, why not just write it down? Wouldn't that work just as well.”
He chuckled again, amused by the naive child who clearly showed the beginning of curiosity that could open doors for her. “Sometimes, we have stories we want to tell, but words don't always exist to tell the story for us. That is where art comes in.”
James didn't even know if he could attempt to describe the sensations that were pounding. His initial emotion had been relief, seeing her alive and moving, albeit still beaten and struggling for survival, it had meant he hadn't lost her. She was his ray of hope, and the moment her eyes opened it had sent a surge of promise for the future through them.
Now, that promise was flaking away like a decaying corpse, piece by piece falling away as the realization sunk in. She was suffering some sort of a memory loss, something he recognized without any degree or training. Amnesia, they called it? Maybe these things could just be temporary and some day everything would be alright. It was the type of forced optimism he had to swallow if he didn't want to drown in self pity.
Those beautiful, beautiful eyes looked up at him and James could practically feel how lost she felt. It hurt him more than her not recognizing him, and made him realize he needed to stop worrying about himself and be strong while she was so weak. "No, no. It's fine Reina," he said with a choked voice and exhausted smile. "Everything is going to be fine. These doctors are going to take good care of you, and we'll get you back to yourself soon. I promise."
Now, that promise was flaking away like a decaying corpse, piece by piece falling away as the realization sunk in. She was suffering some sort of a memory loss, something he recognized without any degree or training. Amnesia, they called it? Maybe these things could just be temporary and some day everything would be alright. It was the type of forced optimism he had to swallow if he didn't want to drown in self pity.
Those beautiful, beautiful eyes looked up at him and James could practically feel how lost she felt. It hurt him more than her not recognizing him, and made him realize he needed to stop worrying about himself and be strong while she was so weak. "No, no. It's fine Reina," he said with a choked voice and exhausted smile. "Everything is going to be fine. These doctors are going to take good care of you, and we'll get you back to yourself soon. I promise."
If you have an idea that's not at all related to what's listed above, feel free to message me and let me know what you've got in mind. I'm very eager to find someone with paralleled interests.
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