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| ✗✗ then I'll follow you into the D A R K; mature--closed--active | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 8 2011, 12:19 PM (771 Views) | |
| Vidia | Sep 8 2011, 12:19 PM Post #1 |
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| icon by appleindecay | |
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| Gipity | Sep 9 2011, 12:09 AM Post #2 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 375px; text-align:justify;"> <BR> "See ya later, guys!" Carter called back to his coworkers with a wave as he jogged down the stone steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, taking a sharp turn to the right in order to start heading home. The sun had just fallen behind the horizon, the sky in the distance a dark red laying beneath a milky light purple. The sight laid behind the looming buildings as they sparkled in the fresh moonlight, and it made the young man smile as he took in the view. Sometimes nature was his favorite artist. They had such an eye for color. <br><br>Night continued to fall upon him as he walked, his eyes darting every which way, taking in everything and anything he could. Things were sort of peaceful... For New York anyway. He could hear the sound of traffic a couple blocks over, but otherwise, that was it. The streets he walked beside were pretty dead compared to how they usually were. <br><br>As Carter turned the corner, he caught sight of something laying about on the sidewalk, a rich crimson pool surrounding it. "Whoa." He whispered as his eyes grew as wide as saucers, and some odd force moved him towards the figure, and as he got closer, he noticed that it was a woman. It was a beautiful woman, one who had several bullet holes in her that were seeping with blood. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. <br><br>"Whoa, hey, hey, miss!" He took hold of her delicate shoulders as he knelt down beside her and moved her onto her back, since she had been face down against the pavement. He felt his breath start to quicken as he took hold of her thin wrist, placing his index and middle finger against the inside of it, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak. "Okay, we gotta go-." <br><br>"Don't…" <br><br>The word was incredibly faint and strained, and Carter's kind eyes moved to the young woman's face. <br><br>"…just leave me alone." <br><br>"Uh, don't think I can do that." He replied with a short and somewhat awkward chuckle. He wasn't about to let the girl die, despite her strange plea. Why wouldn't she want help? <br><br>Unexpectedly, the girl sat up some, and Carter quickly moved his hand behind her, laying it very gently on her back. "Whoa, miss, y'know, you probably shouldn't do that." He warned, but she didn't seem to listen, or even hear him. Understandable. She looked like she had lost most of her blood supply. <br><br>"Don't… take-me-to….the hospital." <br><br>He watched as she struggled to get the words out, and he realized (Well, he assumed) that it wasn't that she didn't want help, but that she didn't want to go to the hospital. He could understand that. He understood that very well. "Okay." He agreed in a soft voice as her eyes closed and she became limp. "M-Miss?" Carter felt his own blood run cold as he stared down at her. He slowly laid her back down on the pavement and leaned down, putting his ear to where her heart was, listening for a heartbeat. There was none. It was completely silent. <br><br>His shoulders dropped as he pulled away, his eyes, which became glossier by the second, moving over to her face, and really getting a good look at her. As he gazed upon her gorgeous features, he realized that she looked familiar somehow. It was odd, since he was pretty darn positive he had never physically seen her before, but yet he knew that face. It was so strange. <br><br>Now, what was he going to do with her? <br><br>Well, there had been a reason why she hadn't wanted to go to the hospital, and if she wished to stay away from that dreadful place, he would happily grant that. It wasn't going to happen tonight though, as storm clouds had crept up from behind him, ready to downpour on him and the unfortunate girl. They had to get out of there. He would just have to figure out how to deal with all of this once he got to his apartment. <br><br>Carter swiftly stood up and pulled off the plaid over shirt that was tied around his straight hips, moving to wrap it around the girl before he scooped her up in his arms. She was small, so the dead weight wasn't too much of a struggle. He cast a glance up at the dark skies, the smoky clouds growing more and more with each passing moment. He had to get a move on. <br><br>He preceded to walk to his apartment, a little faster than usual. When he was sure no one was really around the dead neighborhood, he started to jog, holding the girl to his slim frame so that she didn't move much. He didn't really pay any mind to the blood that was getting on him, and just continued forth. He wasn't going to call 911, and he wasn't going to take her to the hospital or the police. He couldn't bring himself to do any of what he should have done after what she said. It just didn't seem right. He wasn't really sure what was right, but he would figure it out in due time. For now, he was just gonna take her home. "Takin' dead girls to your apartment now. You are getting desperate, C." He joked to himself, the chortle that went with it quickly dying as he shook his head at himself. He probably would have facepalmed if his hands had been free. <br><br>Finally, he reached his apartment building, and managed to carry the girl up a couple flights of stairs as well as unlock his door before he took her inside, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. His apartment looked more like a kids' fingerpainting class... If those kids could paint as well as pros such as Rembrandt and Dali. Most of the walls were done up in murals, each one different yet able to connect to one another seamlessly. His floor was covered in old newspaper and large blue tarps, not to mention quarts of paint of all the colors you could imagine, plus brushes of various sizes, littered the floor. Most of the furniture was speckled or stained with some sort of bright and bold color, as he was usually unable to get it off by the time he even noticed it. <br><br>He walked straight over to the couch, which was, luckily for him, covered with a thick blanket. He laid her down, just as rain started to lightly pitter patter against the windows. He stood straight up and just watched her for a moment, before he looked down at him, her scarlet blood covering most of his abdomen. He looked like he had been shot himself. "Hope you don't mind if I take a shower, do ya? Nah, didn't think so." He made a face at himself for his morbid words before he headed towards his dinky bathroom, ready to wash off the first half of the night. As far as he could tell, it was going to be a long one. <br><br>When he stepped out of the shower later on, he almost expected the deceased girl to not be on his couch, as it was all so absurd, but nope, she was there, as dead as ever... Or so he thought. "Gonna have to figure out what to do with you." He commented as he walked by the couch and to the kitchen, where he moved to the sink in order to try to wash as much of the blood out of his shirt as he could. After deciding to just let it soak in water and the strongest soap he could find all night, he went about finding something to eat, all while trying to figure out what to do with the girl. He supposed he should go through her wallet, just to see who she was and who to call. She must've had a family somewhere, or even some friends, who would need to know about her passing. Maybe after that, they could take it from there. It was either that, or he didn't tell a soul and just buried her in the earth naturally. The latter wasn't a very good option, but it definitely kept her away from any hospitals or anything of that sort. <br><br>The next occurrences, however, made it known that Carter wasn't going to have to worry about any of that. <br><br>Suddenly, Carter heard a breath, one that he knew for sure wasn't his. It was a sharp intake of air, the kind that someone took after holding it for a good while. He froze for a moment, before his shock fell away and he gradually made his way over to the couch, where he knew the sound had come from. Finally, his eyes fell upon the girl, only to see that she was, in fact, breathing. Carter nearly sped over to her side after seeing this and took a hold of her wrist in order to feel her pulse again. It was present, and it was steady. As he dropped her hand and stepped back, he shook his head slightly, "Now I can see why my parents told me I shouldn't watch the Twilight Zone after midnight." <br><br>Well, this was all too weird. <br><br>He had watched the girl die, and she had been dead, for nearly an hour, only for her to suddenly come back to life, just like that. <br><br>It was incredible. <br><br>Once he got over the shock of this news (He would get details later on after she woke up), he decided that he might as well get her cleaned up. He was going to do it anyway, but since he didn't know when she would be waking up, he decided it would be best to get it done as soon as possible. <br><br>He grabbed one of his many t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants that could be made smaller by the tie string around the waist, got his hands on a butter knife and rubbing alcohol before he filled up a paint stained container with soapy water and grabbed a washcloth. He preceded to spend the next hour very carefully stripping her of her outer clothes and washing all of the blood off of her. He oh so carefully pried the bullets out of her (They didn't bleed as much as he thought they would) and disinfected the wounds thoroughly before he wrapped them up nicely, having no clue that they started rapidly healing not very long afterward. Once she was as clean as she was gonna get, he dressed her in his clothes, tossed her clothes into the sink, and cleaned up his little work station beside her, before he went ahead and collapsed on his bed, which happened to be in the same room. <br><br>In a matter of moments, Carter was out like a light. <br><br>He woke up at the crack of dawn. <br><br>He wasn't one to waste the day, that was for sure. He got up, he got dressed in his usual clean yet paint soiled wardrobe, he checked on the very much alive girl, worked on one of his murals, before finally he headed out the door, off to get a very important thing. <br><br>Bagels. <br><br>So, that was what he did. He went to the nearby bakery, where he knew the best bagels were. He bought a dozen this time, which included all different varieties from onion to cinnamon raisin, along with a small tub of their fresh cream cheese, before he headed right back to his place, not about to miss when the girl woke up. He was sure she'd be pretty freaked out when she came to in some stranger's apartment. <br><br>With the brown paper bag full of bagels and cream cheese cradled in his arm, he walked to his door, and just as he was about to open it, it swung open for him, allowing him to come face to face with the girl. Abruptly, a big and bright smile lit up his face, reaching his eyes, "Well, good mornin'! I hope you had a very good night's sleep at the Haus of Carter. How about you stay for some complimentary breakfast?" He moved forward, causing her to step back, and he closed the door behind himself, "Don't like bagels? I got eggs and bacon, which are guaranteed to smile right back at ya. Whaddaya say?" He inquired with a quirked brow, his tone as perky and friendly as could be, not making it seem at all like he thought they was anything weird about her. That was easy, since to him it wasn't weird. <br><br>It was just darn right miraculous. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Vidia | Sep 9 2011, 02:08 AM Post #3 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 407px; text-align:justify;"> Cora stood face to face in front of the guy who was now tangled up in her story straight out of a novel. She had been in the middle of tearing a bandage that had covered the wound in her side, her hand reaching up underneath her shirt. Blue eyes meeting brown, she withdrew her hand immediately, and now the half-freed strip of blood-stained gauze dangled out from beneath the t-shirt. He beamed back at her with a smile so happy that it was like being blinded...while Cora was just panicking inside. Never had she once had to deal with a situation like this. Her deaths usually went by quietly, either entirely unseen, or with witnesses who just didn't care. <br><br>"Well, good mornin'! I hope you had a very good night's sleep at the Haus of Carter. How about you stay for some complimentary breakfast?" <br><br>Cora stepped back as he closed the door, standing right between her and her goal. She was dumbfounded, and didn't say anything, because she knew that if she opened her mouth it would just be a drawn out "Uhhh". She was pretty used to slang, actually having picked up on it for a long time now. Her language had become adaptable over the years, necessary for her to blend in. But this guy, he was speaking a completely different language. Which in most cases would be fine. Cora knew a handful of languages. However, this one was from a different planet. It was the language of kindness, with no ulterior motive. At least not one she could sense. <br><br>Throughout the years, Cora had sort of given up on most humanity. Maybe it was because she was just jealous of mortals and the lives they took for granted. Or maybe it was because she saw most people as greedy, selfish, and, as proved tonight, violent. Okay, sometimes there were a couple mortals give or take who stood outside the stereotype. But this guy…this guy…he was a whole new breed of something. Cora was fairly intuitive, so right off the bat, she could sense what sort of person he was. She stared back at him as if he was the one who had just come back from the dead, her deep set blue eyes staring back at him, taking him in like a new life form. It was all pretty hypocritical, but it wasn't her fault. Almost seven hundred years had gone by, and Cora had never met someone like this. Openly friendly, a gentle sort of aura about him. She couldn't help but be surprised. There were polite people, sure, but this went beyond that. <br><br>"Don't like bagels? I got eggs and bacon, which are guaranteed to smile right back at ya. Whaddaya say?" <br><br>Maybe in another universe, she would've stayed. But she couldn't. Cora had to leave before he found out how strange she really was, before he really knew anything about her. Cora was certain he had seen her come back to life…or else he wouldn't have bothered dressing her wounds. She had to get moving and find another way to get those shards, while shaking him off her trail and out of her life. It was tragic, but it was how she treated every human. Cora would make slight friends here and there, but they were distant. People she could easily break relations with. <br><br>He was smiling back at her, and like a chemical reaction, Cora smiled back. Only slightly, but even then, her dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth, and she glanced downwards. She had to turn him down discreetly…couldn't have him getting too suspicious. She didn't know how much he knew already, but she didn't plan on risking anything. Cora had already made a few mistakes, moving so easily when she was supposed to be riddled with holes right now. <br><br>She had to say something. "Look, I…uh," Cora lifted her hand and then dropped it to her side, awkwardly fumbling for words, a thousand thoughts shooting through her brain, part of them worried, the other frantically screaming at her to move on, get out there, and look for the gang. "…I really appreciate everything." Her smile broadened, her meaning clearly genuine, despite her hurried, stumbling words. "Thanks for not taking me to the hospital….you're a good guy." Her brows lifted a little on the last statement, showing that she wasn't used to meeting people like him. Cora had a habit of saying things kind of blatantly. But it was true. Even if her body healed itself, he had technically saved her, at least in that sense. He had taken away the burden of popping out the bullets, so Cora had awoken with substantially no pain, whereas if the bullet had stayed, her body would have started to heal itself with them embedded in her skin, and she'd have to pry them out and let the wounds fully close. <br><br>She owed him, but couldn't really repay him. He deserved to take care of someone who was normal and could thank him properly. She moved to the side then, ready to step around him. "I should probably get going." She said it casually, trying to emphasize she was all right now. Cora didn't want to directly say no--she didn't even want to address the idea of breakfast. <br><br>But then her stomach took this moment to grumble, as if this was some cheesy comedy airing late at night for sad singles. Cora rolled her eyes at herself, the savory smell of the bagels wafting through her nose, reminding her that it had been hours and hours since her last meal. Great, she was doing a wonderful job at being convincing. Forced laughter left her lips, the immortal uncomfortable [and now starving]. Pathetic, just pathetic. If he was a jerk, this would've all been pretty simple, but fate had granted her with someone decent. What was she supposed to do now? <br><br>And then her mind shot back to the witch who had cursed her. A good deed merits a reward. Ha. Of course. She stopped herself from rolling her eyes sarcastically as she reached into her pocket to get her wallet…maybe he'd be more willing to let her go if she paid him for the trouble. But then Cora was reminded of the fact that she wasn't wearing her own clothes--he had gone so far as to dress her wounds and put her in clean shirt and…his pajama pants. Well, she'd worn weirder than a guy's sleeping slacks [the paint was new, though…but it didn't bother her]. "...where's my wallet?" Cora questioned, frowning, and it wasn't really directed towards the man, but more like an exclamation of her horrible realization. That wallet had her everything. A hefty amount of cash, countless credit cards…a couple dozen I.D.'s with fake names. Most importantly, there were slips of paper with vital intel scratched on them, information needed on relics. Her whole life was in her wallet, and it was missing. Cora's thoughts immediately went to the gang, eyes widening. "Damn it!" Had they mugged her after taking her out? Or maybe it had fallen from her pocket when this guy carried her back…crap, crap. She was losing it, and she couldn't think straight. Cora ran a hand through her tawny brown waves. <br><br>No, she had to focus. Her wallet didn't fall out of her pocket, not that easily. It was thick little thing that fit snugly ageist the dark denim. She couldn't have dropped it. And she didn't recall the thugs taking anything from her. Although Cora had only been half-conscious at the time, she didn't think they had managed to steal from her, either too cowardly or too stupid. So if she didn't drop it, and they didn't steal…geez, it was simple. But the sheer thought of losing her wallet had made it hard to concentrate. Her gaze swept over to her "savior", a brow arching as the pieces came together. "So--wanna shed some light?" Cora asked, her lips tilting slightly, no trace of accusation in her face, just want for an answer--or really, her wallet. She just needed to get her wallet, pay the guy, get out of here, grab something to eat, and get back to trying to get that artifact, before it went off to India. <br><br>Man. Even when you had all the time in the world, you could still be in a crazy hurry. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Gipity | Sep 9 2011, 10:47 PM Post #4 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 375px; text-align:justify;"> <BR>The girl seemed pretty, well, dumbfounded by him. He wasn't surprise. It seemed many people got that way when they first met him. He was just that sort of person... The kind you just never expected to run into. <br><br>"…I really appreciate everything. Thanks for not taking me to the hospital….you're a good guy." <br><br>For a moment, all Carter saw was her beaming smile, before he brought his dark chocolate gaze up to her creamy blue eyes, a cute grin sitting upon his lips. He had made the right choice not taking her to the hospital. She seemed to be truly grateful for it. "Hey, it was no problem. You said not to take you to the hospital, so I didn't, erm, take you the hospital." <br><br>"I should probably get going." <br><br>Carter attempted to smoothly step back into her way, but it was more of a stumble. Fortunately, he didn't drop the bagels. "Oh, no, please. Stay. You should eat! I mean, heck, you lost a lot of blood. You gotta replenish your vitamins or something, right? I mean, bagels aren't exactly doctor recommended for vitamins but hey, they taste fabulous." He paused for an instant, his eyes growing large as he realized something, "Do you want pancakes? Cause, hey, I can do pancakes." He held up his free hand, his palm facing her. "Whatever your tastes are, I can cook something up. I've got a smorgasbord for a cabinet." <br><br>"...where's my wallet? <br><br>Carter grew quiet as he watched her frantically search for her wallet, his lips pursing somewhat as he tried not to show his amusement. His raised his sleek dark eyebrows as she cursed and grew more panicked, waiting for her to just ask him if he knew where it was. <br><br>"So--wanna shed some light?" <br><br>That sure took her long enough. Even though her tone nor her face made it seem like she was accusing him, Carter pretended like she was anyway. "What? You think I took your wallet? Me? Your savior? The guy that carried you all the way to his apartment?" He started to walk backwards towards the kitchen area as he spoke, "You really think that I would do such a thing. Well, that is just blasphemy. I really can't-" He stopped short as he reached over to the leather wallet beside the sink and held it up, "Here it is. Oh, and don't worry. I didn't even peek inside... Though I sorta wished I had, cause I sooooooooorta really wanna know your name." A charming smile lit up his features as he carefully placed the bagels on the counter and took a step towards her, "So, give me your name, and promise you'll get some fuel in ya, and you get your wallet back. Deal?" </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Vidia | Sep 9 2011, 11:55 PM Post #5 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 407px; text-align:justify;"> <br><br>"Hey, it was no problem. You said not to take you to the hospital, so I didn't, erm, take you the hospital." <br><br> "Right..." she said, gazing back at him...realizing he wasn't bad looking, not even close to it, but she wasn't the one to get hung over on looks. "...but you didn't have to." She smiled a little, bordering on a smirk. Cora doubted anyone else would have listened to her preference. She had been lucky. <br><br>He stepped back in front of her, causing Cora to raise a brow a little. Oh geez, no, no, he was really trying to help her. The one thing she didn't want. Good-bye, luck. It was nice having you for once. <br><br>"…I mean, bagels aren't exactly doctor recommended for vitamins but hey, they taste fabulous." <br><br> "Vitamins…" Cora repeated, staring back at him, still not really knowing how to handle this guy. She felt as if she was on some sort of strange talk show, and that wasn't the most comfortable sort of situation for an immortal riddled with secrets. "Oh, pfft," she scoffed. "Don't even worry about that, I'm fine. I'm…abnormally healthy, actually." Great, great, this was just getting better [although it was true, she was abnormally healthy...if healthy was the word for it]. This was just getting worse and worse. Had she been shot in the head, too? <br><br>At any rate...he wasn't showing any signs of making this easy. <br><br>"What? You think I took your wallet? Me? Your savior? The guy that carried you all the way to his apartment?" <br><br>Cora would've pointed out that she hadn't meant it like that, if he let her get a word in, but he kept on talking, and so, not one to cut people off unless they were pushing her buttons, the brunette stood there, watching him monologue for her. She was kind of embarrassed at how much he had to do for her, though…taking her back to his place, dressing her wounds and giving her new clothes and now all of this. She didn't rely on other people. Cora depended solely on herself--she had to, if she wanted to have any chance of living normally. The closer she got to people, the worse things seemed to get for her. <br><br>"Here it is. Oh, and don't worry. I didn't even peek inside... Though I sorta wished I had, cause I sooooooooorta really wanna know your name." <br><br>Well, that was a relief. If he had snooped into her wallet he would have found out a lot more than she wanted anyone to ever find out…there was just too much information in there. It was almost dangerous carrying it around. But she could see he was telling the truth when he said he hadn't stepped over any boundaries, so she smiled--or would've if he didn't mention wanting to know her name, a tidbit of info she wasn't keen to give. Cora stepped away from the door, ready to grab her wallet and thank him, pay him off, get the heck out of here and his life before she caused any permanent memory or something. <br><br>"So, give me your name, and promise you'll get some fuel in ya, and you get your wallet back. Deal?" <br><br> "What?" Cora blurted, her voice almost indignant with disbelief, and then she wanted to slap herself. She was coming off as an ingrate. But really, she didn't want to stay any longer, and she sure as heck didn't want to tell him anything about herself. Damn. Did he have to hold her wallet hostage? Cora could give him a fake name…she sort of felt like it would be better, because he knew so much already. But, he had her wallet. He could check it at any time, and if he found out it was a fake, she'd seem even more suspicious…geez. She held back a sigh. Fine, she'd surrender--for now. "Cora," she said, inadvertently accepting the deal, stepping towards him. Her name was pretty simple, Greek for "maiden", but nowadays it was considered...different. Not good for leaving without a trace, that was for sure. Cora didn't bother to ask for his name, because judging from what she knew from him already, he'd introduce himself without request. <br><br> "And just a bagel would be perfect, thanks," she said, holding up one hand. Well, actually, Cora had something of an appetite and could probably eat five bagels, especially when she was this hungry...and eggs and bacon and pancakes sounded pretty damn appealing--but she wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, and the last thing she wanted was this guy cooking for her on top of everything else. Timeless she may be, but time for friends, she didn't have, especially not now. Cora's eyes curved as she glanced at him, scrutinizing. He was something, that was for sure. No one made her give up this easily…but, circumstances being as they were, well, what could she do. The corner of her mouth quirked up slightly, her smile tinted with sarcasm because of the fact that now he was pretty much holding her hostage. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Gipity | Oct 2 2011, 08:05 PM Post #6 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 375px; text-align:justify;"> <BR>"Oh, pfft. Don't even worry about that, I'm fine. I'm…abnormally healthy, actually." <br><br>"Mmm." Carter pressed his lips together at this statement as he nodded, his eyebrows raising, "Yes, I've noticed." She had died and come back to life. He wasn't sure what to think of that. Was she a witch? An angel? A deity? Maybe she was just a miracle. <br><br>He was pretty sure he liked the goddess idea the most. <br><br>"What?" <br><br>The word seemed to fall out of her mouth when he basically blackmailed her. It was truly innocent. He really just wanted to know her name (Without having to go into the privacy of her heavy wallet) and help her out some more. After all that blood loss, she had to be tired and starving. She needed food, and he had it. He didn't see the big deal. A sly grin slipped onto his lips, "C'mooon, give it up." He egged her on gently, making sure to keep the wallet out of her reach. <br><br>"Cora," <br><br>"Cora." The man repeated pensively, his forehead creasing as he took it in. It was different, reminiscent of those exotic names of the past. It was short yet contained much beauty in it's small size. It fit her. Suddenly, his face became bright as he grinned at her, "Well, nice to meet you, Cora! I'm Carter, your deilghtful host." He made the motion of fixing a bow tie around his neck, but of course, there wasn't one. <br><br>"And just a bagel would be perfect, thanks," <br><br>"What's that, ladies and gentlemen? The girl wants a bagel? Hallelujah!" He exclaimed, the last word ending in a laugh as he pumped his fists into the air before he reached into the bagel bag with his free hand, "So, whaddaya in the mood for? We've got onion, cinnamon apple, plain, or egg. Make your choice, my lady." He grabbed an egg bagel for himself, simply getting out two paper towels and laying his on one before he grabbed the cream cheese out of the bag. He made sure to keep her wallet close by him. He wanted to see her eat something before he bothered giving it back to her. <br><br>He peeked up at her as he smoothed the cream cheese onto his breakfast, easily detecting that sardonic element on her lips, just taunting him. He easily threw the smile right back at her, his dark eyes twinkling playfully as he did so. "So, Cora, do you live around here? Just visiting? Do you get yourself into situations that get you shot frequently?" He asked with a strong simper before he took a bite of his freshly creamed bagel, making an elaborate 'yum' sound in the process. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Vidia | Oct 3 2011, 01:22 AM Post #7 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 407px; text-align:justify;"> "Yes, I've noticed." <br><br>Cora hadn't been expecting that. She had thought it would blow past as just a lame excuse, but…this guy was catching onto her. She narrowed her eyes at him, not rudely or aggressively, but in a way that indicated her wonder. How much had he figured out already? How much did he see? And how dangerous was it for her to stay here?…well, those odds didn't matter, not as long as he had her wallet. Once she was gone, Cora was sure he'd be fine, and safe from being written up in her crazy sci-fi fantasy…or at least, that was the hope. "Oh yeah?" came her reply, and a steady, slow lifted brow, frowning a bit as if she didn't know what he was talking about, when in reality, Cora knew exactly what he was indicating. She just hadn't been lucky enough to be saved by a blind guy or something. Or just, you know, left on the sidewalk to deal with it on her own. But then again, that wasn't a very good idea either, because someone might have called the cops or the ambulance. <br><br>She really owed him. <br><br>Cora watched as her name sunk in. People always had some sort of reaction to it, because it was...different. He let it register, his face concentrated, as if it was actually important. And then he smiled suddenly, so brightly that it was assertive. "…I'm Carter, your delightful host." <br><br>"It's nice to meet you," Cora replied, only half out of custom, not doing much to hide the small smirk of amusement at his gestures. He was the theatrical sort, she guessed. "…I mean, despite the circumstances and all." Cora added with a one-shouldered shrug. Like, I'm sorry you had to carry me, clean me up, and now treat me to breakfast. <br><br>"So, whaddaya in the mood for? We've got onion, cinnamon apple, plain, or egg. Make your choice, my lady." <br><br>Cora was a little surprised that he had bought so many bagels, and so many different types…and she hoped that it was because he was a strange breakfast fanatic, and that it wasn't because of her being here, because that would make her feel like even more a jerk. Ugh, no, she couldn't think like that. It just wasn't her problem. Getting him involved would be even worse. "Onion would be great," Cora remarked, watching as he set the paper towels up. "Ooh, fancy," Cora commented with wide eyes, lifting and dropping her shoulders with fake astonishment as if he was dishing out the wedding china for her. But her words weren't mocking--it wasn't in her blood to be cruel off the bat. She was just the type who humorous remarks without thinking much about it, which sometimes caused for trouble. It was more of a problem back in the day, and yet, now that Cora didn't have anyone controlling her, now that she was free, her speech tended to be a little more liberal than it should be. She called things as she saw them. <br><br>After putting some cream cheese on her bagel, Cora started to eat, and it wasn't till she had the first bite that she realized how really hungry she was. She felt like it was a common thing, after death. This ravenous, yet almost unsatisfiable feeling. She had to push herself not to just wolf it down in front of him. He might have just interpreted it as her trying to get out though, which wasn't entirely untrue either. <br><br>"So, Cora, do you live around here? Just visiting? Do you get yourself into situations that get you shot frequently?" <br><br>She swallowed. <br><br>He just had to bring that up, didn't he. Well, she guessed it was natural. Carter did find her bleeding to death on the sidewalk. Any sane person would mention that. But if she was one of those video games, her defense level would have increased by twenty percent. <br><br>"Mmm…I'm sort of a drifter," Cora started cautiously, motioning briefly with the bagel in her hand. It wasn't like it was anything too uncommon, so she figured it would be all right to say. The closer she kept to the truth, the easier it would be to lie, if she needed to. She chewed for a moment, buying time with each quirk of her mouth. "And…no," Cora answered, selecting her reply at the last moment. At first, she wanted to say yeah, she was dangerous, and he should keep away from her, but Cora didn't want to seem suspicious, either. Couldn't have him calling the cops. Not that Carter seemed like that type--after all, he didn't take her to the hospital or anything--but with her situation, you couldn't afford to take risks. "Just…at the wrong place, at the wrong time...you know?" she replied with a light trace in her voice, though it wasn't really a casual topic. She forced herself to look at him in the eyes to see if he bought it, knowing that facing him would give more truth to her words. <br><br>"But what about you?" Cora asked, lifting a brow, blue eyes finally nudging at him as she shifted the attention off of herself. She didn't have to feign interest, because this guy was definitely anything but boring. She glanced at the various specks of paint that littered the room, the murals on the walls, and her left foot shuffled against one of the newspapers under her foot. She hadn't been paying too much attention earlier, too busy with the whole "gotta get out of here" thing, but now, she was intrigued. "…was a family of rainbows murdered here or something?" she asked, with an impish smile that gave dimples an edge people wouldn't imagine possible. Cora knew she shouldn't be asking questions about Carter…establishing a relationship as anything more than slight acquaintances [and okay, rescuer and rescue-e], but she was admittedly curious. She had never been to a room like this one before…and hey, when you lived as long as she did, that was definitely saying something. <br><br>It didn't take long for Cora to finish that bagel. Once she swallowed the last piece, she held up both her hands towards Carter. "Done," she announced, as if she was a contestant in a hot dog eating competition or something. "Now, how about that wallet, Carter?" Time to get back on the road and after those shards. This was a nice little break from that world, Cora would admit, but she wasn't going to let some cute guy and his imaginary bow-tie and bagels and paint prolong her mortality any longer. She was so, so close. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Gipity | Oct 3 2011, 12:23 PM Post #8 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 375px; text-align:justify;"> <BR>"Oh yeah?" <br><br>"Yeah." Carter replied with a little jump of his eyebrows, not getting into it anymore after that. He had some ideas, but he couldn't put his finger on one solid idea he was sure was the right one. He truly didn't know her, so how could he say? He could just hope she'd trust him enough to fill him in someday. <br><br>"It's nice to meet you …I mean, despite the circumstances and all." <br><br>"Circumstances, schmirkenstances." Carter threw her a half grin, a loose shrug popping over his shoulders, "At least we've met, right?" He found it pretty dang awesome that he had been allowed to meet someone so interesting... Even if she wasn't telling him much. She was so intriguing to him. He just wanted to get to know her. <br><br>"Onion would be great," <br><br>"Onion it is!" He dug out the fragrant breakfast food and placed it on the empty paper towel before he slid it over to her, deciding she could put the cream cheese on herself just fine. He didn't seem at all insulted at her sarcastic comment, instead putting on a dashing smile, "Why thank you. I always preferred the ones with kitchenware printed on them, but I guess cupcakes will have to do today." He played along easily, gesturing to the cute pink cupcake that was printed into the corner of the thick napkin. <br><br>She went about answering his questions, giving somewhat decent answers, though he wasn't exactly sure he believed her. He wouldn't call her out as being a liar though, cause really, what did he know? He looked her right back in the eyes, a small smile present in his gaze, "Yeah, I know." <br><br>"But what about you?" <br><br>Carter's brows raised at this, nearly shocked she was actually asking about him. "What about me?" He asked with a chuckle, not realizing the fact that his abode wasn't exactly a common sight for most. <br><br>"…was a family of rainbows murdered here or something?" <br><br>A hearty laugh sounded from him at that one, his dark eyes glinting, shaking his head somewhat, "Oh, that's a good one." He took a glance around as his laughter faded away, looking over the artscape that was his home. "This is my studio. It's my canvas, and it's my escape." He smiled fondly before he looked back over at her, "I'm an artist. My main thing is paint... As you can plainly see." It was all over the place. It was hard to stay clean when working with the medium. It sorta just got everywhere, including on himself. He glanced back at the living room, reaching back to scratch out the dollop of green paint that rested in his short hair. "I guess it does sort of look like a rainbow brigade had a party here." <br><br>"Done," <br><br>Carter turned back to look at her, and his eyebrows arched up, quite impressed, "Damn, that was like record speed." He still had about half of his bagel left, and he had started eating before her. <br><br>"Now, how about that wallet, Carter?" <br><br>You could see the touch of disappointment in Carter's eyes, because he knew she would be leaving, and there was a chance he wouldn't be seeing her again. "Alright, alright. You fulfilled your part of the deal." He grabbed the wallet, "But hey, don't make yourself a stranger." She would know where he lived now. Maybe if she needed something, she'd come there, if she knew nobody else in New York. He could only hope. <br><br>He handed her the wallet, which to her would feel just a bit lighter than it had last night, but that definitely wasn't Carter's fault. Just as the leather wad passed from man to woman, Carter's cellphone started to ring. "Huh, where'd I put that thing?" He looked towards the living room and saw the device (Which also had small specks of paint on it) on the end table next to the couch. He swiftly jogged over to it, picking it up and answering as fast as he could, "Hello, hello, hello. This is Carter. What's up?" His eyes went wide as his coworker spoke to him, "What? You're kidding." He smiled wide. "We got it? The shards from Aphrodite's mirror? Those are super rare." He bounced up and down on his heels excitedly, "That's great! Yeah, I'll come in soon. Yeah..." He paused for a moment, "I'm fine. Yeah. Okay. I'll see you soon. Bye." <br><br>He hung up the phone before he slipped it into his pocket, throwing her a grin, "Got the main event for our Greek collection. Shards from Aphrodite's mirror. Pretty cool, huh?" He stopped, realizing Cora probably had no idea what the heck he was talking about. He hadn't told her very much about himself. "Uh, I work at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, restoring paintings." He informed her as he nodded and pressed his lips together, before he broke into another infectious smile, "But that's pretty sweet, huh? Too bad you're in such a hurry or maybe I'd let you see it early." He teased her, having no idea how important the artifact was to her. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Vidia | Oct 4 2011, 12:02 AM Post #9 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 407px; text-align:justify;"> "Yeah." <br><br>"Oookay…" Cora said, quirking a brow as if he was the odd one, and there was some sort of emotion hanging in the air between them, something of forbidden mystery that she just couldn't reveal. It wasn't fair to him, but she really couldn't do anything about it. <br><br>"At least we've met, right?" <br><br>"Yeah," she replied with a smile, but she knew that it wouldn't be long till he forgot about her. Everyone did. That was just how it had to be. She was just a face with a fake name who eventually faded to the dark recesses of a person's memory. Of course, Carter actually knew her real name now, but, well, it wasn't that much of a difference. <br><br>"Why thank you. I always preferred the ones with kitchenware printed on them, but I guess cupcakes will have to do today." <br><br>"They have those?" Cora said, a little more surprised than she should've been--which she quickly realized, and then her expression of interest smoothed into one of calm again. But sometimes, modern things just fascinated her. After all, she did live in a time before dishwashers and technology and general. If you had told her that there were going to be disposal pieces of cloth with pictures of silverware on them about seven hundred years ago when she was just a normal woman in her twenties, Cora was sure she would've dismissed both the idea and the person as insane. <br><br>"Yeah, I know." <br><br>She was grateful for his leniency. <br><br>"This is my studio. It's my canvas, and it's my escape." <br><br>"Hmm," she remarked as her eyes continued to explore Carter's home. "Are you sure this isn't just a leprechaun's hideout?" She said with a wry smile. It had been a long time since Cora had had a home. It was all hotels and motels and such for this girl, always on the run. Sometimes she didn't even have time to bother--she had slept on a park bench before. An immortal had to do what an immortal had to do. But she missed the idea of home. A place to return to, to retire, where you could be relaxed and just be in your own skin. All Cora knew about "home" these days seemed to be freshly washed towels, small shampoo bottles, and if she was lucky, mints on pillows. She wondered what it was like to come home to this New York castle of colors. <br><br>"I'm an artist. My main thing is paint... As you can plainly see." <br><br>Cora would have made a crack and remarked that she was glad that the red just wasn't from her and her wounds, but she was trying to steer clear from the whole subject of last night, practically treating this as if it was a one night stand or something. Except that would have made this easier, because in those cases, the guy usually wasn't trying to get the girl to eat breakfast--he just wanted her out of there. Her eyes flickered over to him. "The next Kandinsky, huh?" She still remembered when his first works came out and the sort of mixed reception they received. But that was how it was with all great artists. Cora guessed brilliance just wasn't meant to be understood. It was a sad thing. <br><br>"But hey, don't make yourself a stranger." <br><br>Believe me, I couldn't possibly make myself any stranger. <br><br>She smirked slightly. "Thanks," Cora said, her eyes turning a bit softer and more meaningful as she gripped the leather, the wallet creating a bridge between the two of them. "Really." She took it from him then, and a frown appeared on her face. Huh. Why did it feel…thinner? She was about to undo the band on it and check it out, when Carter's phone rang. Cora looked up briefly as he picked it up [and noted that it also had paint on it, no surprise there, though]. And she would have gone back to examining her wallet, if she didn't hear what he said next. <br><br>"We got it? The shards from Aphrodite's mirror? Those are super rare." <br><br>…what? <br><br>What? <br><br>Cora's eyes snapped open wide. Wait, what was he talking about?! Was he part of some gang too or something?!…but what sort of artist would be in some little bad boy posse? What was going on?! Luckily, Carter was too excited upon hearing the news to notice her slight freak out, and she was too busy…well, freaking out, to notice the slight change in mood at the end of the conversation. Without a second thought to her wallet, Cora moved towards Carter, just as he started to speak. <br><br>"Got the main event for our Greek collection. Shards from Aphrodite's mirror. Pretty cool, huh?" <br><br>Before the baffled immortal could even get one question in, Carter explained himself. <br><br>"Uh, I work at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, restoring paintings." <br><br>…so the shards were at a museum now. Great, just great. Now Cora had to break into a big shot museum to get the artifact. It was true that she had definitely been through worse to get one of those relics, but still, she was not looking forward to this. And damn, the last person she knew who was good at this sort of stuff and could help her…was in jail. Geez. Her mind was overflowing with stress now, and the poor girl was rendered speechless. Cora had to call people, move some money around, get gear…ugh, if only things had gone well last night. <br><br>"But that's pretty sweet, huh? Too bad you're in such a hurry or maybe I'd let you see it early." <br><br>Her thoughts stopped immediately. She hadn't even thought about that. Cora wasn't used to people doing her favors and such, so she didn't really think of that as an option most of the time. But it looked like after throwing her this curveball, fate was being a little nicer again. She was damn lucky to have this connection. If she could go see the shards and the set up now, before it even went public, Cora would have more time to plot how to steal it. It'd be much better to steal it before it was showcased to the community, too. Less publicity and media and cops on her tail in the future. <br><br> "Wait, wait, no," Cora said, instantly moving closer to him, chasing after that invitation. "What? There's no hurry." She laughed a little. "I just...didn't want to cause trouble." Which wasn't really a lie or anything, because Cora did want to spare him from all of it. "Sorry about earlier. But I'm….kind of a…history buff," she remarked, biting the corner of her bottom lip as if it was some big secret. It kind of was. Because she wasn't a history buff of her own choosing. Cora just sort of…was history. "So…um….please?" Cora asked, and then rolled her eyes slightly with a smile, betting he was getting a kick out of this. "C'mon, I'll eat all the bagels you want." </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Gipity | Oct 4 2011, 11:49 AM Post #10 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 375px; text-align:justify;"> <BR>"They have those?" <br><br>Carter basically thought she was just being sarcastic once more, though it was a peculiar thing to make a crack at. "They sure do! Most of the time though you can't tell what was ever on them when they're used around here." <br><br>"Hmm... Are you sure this isn't just a leprechaun's hideout?" <br><br>"Heeey." Carter laughed, "Now, I don't take too kindly to that, young lassy." He managed in a failure of an Irish accent before he shook his head, a smile lighting up his face like a flashlight with fresh batteries in it. "C'mon, you really think a leprechaun could get up there?" He asked as he gestured up to the ceiling, which consisted of a mural of a starry night, billowing evening clouds building at each corner, a startling moon being the focal point. For the moment you looked upon it, it enabled you to go somewhere else, just for that little bit. <br><br>"The next Kandinsky, huh?" <br><br>"You know Kandinsky?" Carter inquired, his brows raising with surprise before a grin slipped over his countenance, "Man, I wish. He was amazing." He could feel himself falling for this girl little by little with each passing moment. <br><br>"Thanks. Really." <br><br>"No problem." Carter replied with the utmost sincerity as he stared into her incredible teal eyes for an instant, admiring every fragment of the color. He was going to have to make a paint color and name it Cora, just for her. <br><br>After he explained to Cora what the museum had gotten a hold of, she suddenly got the interest of sticking around, apparently really wanting to see the centerpiece of the museum's historic Greek collection. What a change, huh? First, she wanted nothing but to get out of there, and now, she wanted to let her adorably dorky flag fly and join him at work. Well, he could deal with that. A cute smirk became prominent on his lips as he watched her, a cocked eyebrow adding to the obvious amusement in his eyes. <br><br>"So…um….please? C'mon, I'll eat all the bagels you want." <br><br>"All the bagels I want, huh? Good, cause I bought you a lot of them." Hey, he didn't know what she liked, so he had to get her options. "Alright, Miss History Buff, lets go!" He paused just as he was taking a step, taking a look at her and realizing her clothes weren't exactly appropriate. At least her pants weren't... He was sure a shirt that swam on her wasn't too big of a deal. He walked over to the sink where he had tried to get the blood stains out of her clothes (A useless endeavor really) and grabbed her jeans. He examined them, eying the hold in one of the leg and the blood that surrounded it. "Hm." With that simple sound, he walked to the middle of the living room, dropping the jeans down before he looked over his cans of paint, "Green? Eh, too Christmas. White? Too Fourth of July." He swished his mouth around as he thought, "Ah, here we go." He grabbed hold of his black paint, figuring it would look modern and edgy compared to the crimson that had soiled her pants. <br><br>"Excuse me while I ruin your pants." He grabbed a hold of his brush and dipped it in before he preceded to get on his knees and expertly make it seem like Cora had been painting and gotten the ebony liquid all over her at random intervals. He took hold of a nearly empty can of pale yellow paint before he poured the rest of it onto the pants, drizzling it all around like maple syrup on fluffy pancakes. He set the brush down and wiped his hands on the pants before he stood up with a proud grin, "I think they look pretty good. No one is gonna be able to tell." <br><br>He grabbed his coat off of the coach and slipped it on, before he grabbed a beanie that looked like it had seen better days and popped it on his head. "You can borrow one of my jackets if you want. Your's is kinda beyond all possible hope." Having several bullet holes and red stuff all over your jacket was what most people liked to call 'suspicious', or 'sick', if they thought it was a hand me down jacket of some sort. <br><br>"You can try to put your pants on now. They might be a bit damp but once we get outside they'll dry pretty quick." He informed her, pausing for a second as he realized she had to get dressed and he was there. "Uh..." He turned on his heel swiftly before he covered his eyes with his hands a bit dramatically. "Change away!" </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Vidia | Oct 4 2011, 05:00 PM Post #11 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 407px; text-align:justify;"> Before she could make a remark about the leprechaun thing, Cora's eyes followed his gesture up to the ceiling, and then she forgot anything she was going to say. Cora was initially taken aback, having not paid attention to it before. She stepped back a little and lost herself to it, succumbing to the work, letting it envelop her and fill her mind. She could just see how Carter put himself into his art. He wasn't one of those fake artists who just painted cafés and children and dished out whatever they thought the public wanted them to. This was real. Her knees buckled only slightly, almost unnoticeable, allowing herself to see it just a little better. If she was in an artist gallery, and the room was empty and the museum abandoned, Cora would have laid herself down on the floor just so she could stare at it, all of it. <br><br>"You know Kandinsky?" <br><br>His voice brought her back, but she didn't stop looking, crossing the newspapered floor as she did. "Well, not personally." Although Cora had actually gone to this exhibit with the others of the Die Blaue Vier in the 1920's. She joked without really paying attention to what she was saying, too busy taking his work in. She didn't break her eyes away from the ceiling, her wondering vision traveling over the paint, feeling the grooves and layers as she answered him. "Feel closer to him now, though." Her eyes eventually returned to his. Cora didn't realize how much she was complimenting him, that it was almost…sweet, or something, by saying that by seeing his art, she felt as if she knew Kandinsky. She had just said what she thought and felt at the moment, nothing more. <br><br>"All the bagels I want, huh? Good, cause I bought you a lot of them." <br><br>"Ye-ah," Cora nodded slowly, eyeing the large brown bag. "I can see that." Then they were ready to go off…except, Cora wasn't exactly dressed…appropriately. When she was in a hurry, she didn't really care, but she knew it'd probably be better to put more every-day clothes if they were going to wander about in public. Ugh. She hated to rely on people. But before Cora could ask if they could stop by a place first or something, Carter got to work, taking her blood-stained jeans out from the sink and setting them down on the floor. <br><br>"What're you…" <br><br>"Green? Eh, too Christmas. White? Too Fourth of July." <br><br>Cora saw what he was doing now, and she was stunned to say the least. Because…who…just…did that sort of thing? So casually? It was a smart idea of course, and Cora didn't really care what happened to those jeans, but the concept alone….he really was different. Cora couldn't tell if Carter was cute, or goofy, or brilliant, or just a mixture of everything...like that colorful spattered paint on his walls. <br><br>"Excuse me while I ruin your pants." <br><br>"Hey, by all means," Cora said, lifting and dropping her hand, although again, her words weren't really present, her mind too busy focusing on what he was going to do next. She watched attentively as Carter painted her pants swiftly, masking the blood and giving it a sort of grunge-eclectic look that people paid a lot of money to get. <br><br>"I think they look pretty good. No one is gonna be able to tell." <br><br>"So, basically, nothing can leave this room without your signature, huh?" she mused with a smile, but hey, it was true. Everything in his room, even him, seemed to have at least one little speck of paint on it. <br><br>"You can try to put your pants on now. They might be a bit damp but once we get outside they'll dry pretty quick." <br><br>"Got a wet paint sign to go with it?" Cora asked, before a tilted smile appeared on her lips. "Thanks." Again. And then she just sort of stood there, wondering if she was just supposed to change in here or something. Carter seemed to realize it too, and quickly spun around and covered his eyes. Which was cute, since Cora was fairly certain he had already gotten a good look when he was dressing her wounds and changing her clothes, not that she minded, since Carter had just been helping her and all. <br><br>"Change away!" <br><br>Cora moved slightly behind the couch and shrugged his pajama pants off, folding them briefly in her hands before draping them over the edge of the couch. She moved over to pick up the newly painted pants and slipped them on. Moist with paint, they clung to her legs a little, but it didn't bother her, and she would have to admit, they looked pretty damn good. While Carter was still turned around, Cora took this time to fully pull off the bandage she had started to tear away earlier, rolling it up and tucking it deep into her jeans pocket, while shoving her wallet [who's eerie weight had been forgotten in the mayhem] in the back pocket as she slipped her feet into her shoes. She picked up a grey jacket that had been tossed onto a chair and put that on, all the while cursing at the gang for ruining her favorite jacket. <br><br>"Tada," Cora remarked unceremoniously, now that she was finished, holding her hands out as if to showcase the latest fashion. "Okay, let's go." She started towards the door, ready to finally see the shards in the flesh…when she had a quick thought. "Oh, wait." She darted back to the counter and reached into the bag of bagels, grabbing three of them randomly. Cora immediately took a big bite from one of them, returning to Carter's side. "Sorry," she murmured, mouth half full. She swallowed. "I'm actually kind of…starving." She rolled her eyes a bit as if to say "I know, I know." She was complicated. But hey, he did say he had bought a lot for her. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Gipity | Oct 6 2011, 03:24 PM Post #12 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 375px; text-align:justify;"> <BR>Carter's chocolate gaze watched Cora intently as she looked at the mural he had painted on his ceiling. She didn't just look though. She truly saw it, and her eyes didn't leave it. The young artist felt honored to elicit such a response. It caressed at his heart and sent emotions coursing through him, tickling at his eyes and nose, the most pale of smiles reaching his lips. <br><br>"Well, not personally." <br><br>"Really? I would've thought you guys were best buds." He joked with a low chortle, though he sounded a bit distracted, as he was still peering at her as she seemed to appreciate his art. To see someone so lost in it was one of the best compliments he could receive, and then she said this. <br><br>"Feel closer to him now, though." <br><br>A subtle smile latched onto Carter's lips, his eyes glossy as he met her gaze when she rested her glance upon him. "Can you stay here forever?" He blurted out, yet his tone was soft and sincere. What he didn't realize however, was that she could indeed stay there forever, if she so cared to. <br><br>Carter was glad that she didn't mind what he did to her pants. Some girls might have gotten mad, but she seemed to actually welcome it. <br><br>"So, basically, nothing can leave this room without your signature, huh?" A big grin splashed onto his features, "Nope. If it doesn't have paint on it, it's not Carter approved." He jested with her. Of course, that wasn't exactly true, but it seemed that way. Part of the time, it was just because he was a mess when it came to his craft, though a big part of it was because sometimes he thought things looked better with a little color. Nothing too harmful, right? <br><br>"Got a wet paint sign to go with it? Thanks." <br><br>Carter laughed with a small shake of his head, "Hey, it's no problem. I'll take any canvas. Jeans are a good one." Soon enough, after he had turned around and all, she had gotten dressed, going ahead and taking his jacket before she had him turn back around. He swung around to face her and gave her a beaming grin, "Well, look at you. I'm getting a strong sense of indie chic. What do you think? Maybe you should buy yourself some black framed glasses and you'd be all set." <br><br>She would be such a beautiful hipster. <br><br>Before they were off, Cora backtracked to the kitchen, shoving her hand into the bagel bag and pulling a hefty amount out before starting to chow down. His eyebrows shot up before a prominent smirk came forward. "Starving, huh? I knew it." She had been through too much the night before to only have one bagel. "Good thing those weren't for me." He muttered in a joshing tone before he led her out of his apartment, locking the several locks that were on the door. You couldn't be too careful in New York, and though he didn't have anything very valuable in there, he didn't want any punks defacing his art for the fun of it. <br><br>"I hope you don't mind walking. It's only a few blocks down from here." Carter never called a cab. The world was too beautiful to witness from the confines of a stale smelling taxi, and he'd rather spend his money on his paints and brushes than on a cab fare. Even when it rained, he walked, and he didn't mind it one bit. He always managed to get inspired in some way. <br><br>"So, Cora." He looked over at her as they walked, shoving his hands into his pockets, "History buff. What's your favorite era? I have a hard time choosing myself. There's so much greatness in each one." He breathed out in amazement as he thought about it, like it just blew him away, which it did. Everything inspired him, and to be honest, nothing inspired him more than the girl walking by his side right at that moment. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Vidia | Oct 6 2011, 09:43 PM Post #13 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 407px; text-align:justify;"> "Can you stay here forever?" <br><br>The question itself didn't throw her off guard…it was the honesty in his face, in his voice. If Carter had just said it nonchalantly, as a joke, Cora would have brushed it off easily. She was the one cracking a lot of those comments after all. It was a sort of personality trait she had built up over the years, used to push attention away from herself and thwart suspicious questions. Cora gazed back at him for a moment, his warm brown eyes filling her like a steamy cup of her favorite coffee. A small smirk formed on her lips. "…I thought I already completed my half of the bargain," Cora replied lightly. <br><br>Besides…nobody wants anything forever. <br><br>It was definitely a strange turn of events that she had been thrown into. Cora had been hoping that things would've blown over simply, that the gang would have taken her deal, and she'd have the shards right now…maybe even be on a plane back to her home country, back to the woods where that woman was waiting for her. But even though things hadn't gone as planned…even though Cora had actually ended up dying for the first time in two years [damn, she had been on a roll]…she wasn't as angry as she thought she would be. Instead, she was…well…she couldn't really explain it. Cora never would have imagined that she would be putting on a pair of paint-splattered pants made by a guy who was now going to help her with goal, but she definitely wasn't as bothered by it as she thought she would be. <br><br>"Maybe you should buy yourself some black framed glasses and you'd be all set." <br><br>"Or you could save me three bucks and just paint a pair on me," Cora said, raising one shoulder slowly. "Then again, maybe you shouldn't." Her shoulder dropped and she raised her brows quizzically. "I mean, you don't know my prescription." A brief laugh escaped her lips, the serious expression she put on temporarily cracking. Cora had never needed to wear glasses in life, her entire life, unless she was just using it for a disguise. Her prescription was actually 20/20--one of the perks that came with immortality. While her physical appearance would remain the same as it was when she died, her inner structure started over completely from square one. From everything to jus general condition to…hunger. <br><br>"Starving, huh? I knew it." <br><br>Cora's eyes narrowed a little at his smirk. "I just have a big appetite," she explained, taking another large chomp of the bread. Being able to try different types of cuisines and foods was one of the few things she enjoyed from her extensive life, after all. It was a lot better than what she had as a child…dried vegetables and rabbit stew that was tasteless compared to the way they made it now. And these bagels were just damn good. <br><br>"I hope you don't mind walking. It's only a few blocks down from here." <br><br>"Walking works," Cora responded, with an appreciative smile. "I'm not really fond of most public transportation," she admitted, shaking her head. The close spaces with people, the rattling benches…it just wasn't for her. And a guy had tried to mug her on a taxi before, but she wasn't about to bring that up and open a whole 'nother can of worms. <br><br>"So, Cora. History buff. What's your favorite era?" <br><br>Cora was surprised by this. Maybe it was because no one had ever asked her a question like that before. They asked her the usual…name, birthplace, what she did for a living, and Cora almost always lied. She kept away from people. Carter probably knew more information about her real self than anyone still alive on this planet [besides the witch], and yet, unlike she would normally do, she wasn't trying to push him away. And it wasn't only because he was helping her. <br><br>"Well…I study Ancient Greece," Cora began, wondering how she should go about this. She thought of just picking a random period like the Renaissance or colonial, which would give no information about herself, but…she figured there wouldn't be any real harm. Besides, he hadn't given her a reason not to trust him so far. And the funny thing was, Cora wanted to tell Carter. She felt like she deserved to be herself for this once, just a little. "…deities, and such." Which would make sense about the whole enthusiasm on the shards of Aphrodite. "And I'm a little partial to the mid 1300's," she said with a small, pensive sigh, it being the time she had grown up in, after all. A time when she had been just like everyone else, and life still held its value. Cora glanced up at the skyscrapers that surrounded them. It was strange for her. She had lived all these years, and she had never stopped to think about something as simple as her favorite time period. <br><br>"I guess in the end, the era that really fascinates me would have to be the late nineteenth century," Cora spoke, eyes remaining on the tall buildings, the silvery structures reflecting in her teal eyes. It was a strange thing to say. Most people would say eras that had more art, that were more…beautiful. But for Cora, it was different. She actually had to live in those times, when women were looked down upon and when people were suppressed. So those times weren't exactly her favorite. <br><br>"With all the inventions…railroads, telephones, record players…skyscrapers." She murmured, finally glancing back at him. "It was just…amazing to see people suddenly realize all the things they were capable of," Cora said, unaware at how intoxicated she was with this conversation…with him. "Like…the light bulb. People had the power of light, the power of the SUN, in their own homes, without the dangers of gas lamps." She spoke like an outsider, observer, and yet, as if she had been there to witness it all…because all three were true. Ever since her immortality, Cora had felt like a stranger to the world and its inhabitants, there to watch, and not participate. It took a moment for the brunette to realize how fervently she was speaking, and she paused, composing herself. <br><br>"And well…you know. That was also when they invented hot dogs and Coca Cola," Cora added, and then laughed. It was so weird for her, being with someone like this. But she liked it. It was so…normal. This was what Cora wanted. This was why she wanted to be a mortal. She'd have to enjoy it before she broke ties. "And you?" she asked, taking another bite of her last bagel. Cora really was curious about this guy."What era sparks Master Carter's creativity?" </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Gipity | Oct 7 2011, 11:49 AM Post #14 |
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[align=center] [/align] [dohtml]<center><div style="width: 375px; text-align:justify;"> <BR>"…I thought I already completed my half of the bargain," <br><br>Carter realized that what he said wasn't exactly a good comment. He didn't mean to freak her out or anything, but he couldn't help that she was just so amazing. He reached back and rubbed the nape of his neck, "Heh, right. You did. Silly me. I'm askin' for too much over here." He joked with a nearly embarrassed smile, before his hand dropped and he brushed off the moment like it had never happened. <br><br>He was amused at her quips about the glasses. Oh, she thought she was so funny. "Har har har. You know I could paint a mean pair of glasses." He kidded before he shook his head, "You gotta be real good to make it look like there is actually glasses on someone. Otherwise they just look like a raccoon." He laughed softly, though he had to admit, he'd never painted clothes or accessories on a person before. Well, besides the time he had painted a watch on himself. The hands of the tiny clock didn't move, and that was just the way he liked it. <br><br>"I'm not really fond of most public transportation," <br><br>He grinned at that, nudging her arm gently with his own, "Well, look at that. We've got something in common, now don't we?" So far, they both liked bagels and Kandinsky, and disliked public transportation. They were really gonna get along swell. <br><br>He grew quiet as she went on to explain her favorite eras. He thoroughly enjoyed listening to her, intrigued by her choices. He, too, was fond of Ancient Greece. It was one of the very beginnings of art in general, and it was beautiful. The many vases and urns he had seen so far at the museum were fascinating, and not to mention the impeccable statues. They were gorgeous things to witness. He was a little curious as he sensed a little hint of sadness when she mentioned the Post Renaissance era that took place in the 1300's, but it passed as she went on to passionately describe her love for the mechanics of the late 19th century. <br><br>He adored watching her. Not just listening, but watching, as she spoke. He could see something special in her eyes, like she was so much closer to this time than anyone else alive today had ever been. It was as though she had known what life was like before that time, before people had been blessed with such extraordinary inventions. It made him wonder about her. If she came back to life last night... Well, how long had she been coming back to life? How long had she been a young woman? It was so curious to him, but yet he wouldn't question her. He didn't want to upset her. He wanted to know her. He wanted to see things through her stunning oceanic eyes. <br><br>"And well…you know. That was also when they invented hot dogs and Coca Cola," <br><br>""Oh, well, now those are definitely some of my favorite inventions." He laughed, his face just beaming with glee. If he hadn't just eaten, his stomach probably would've growled. Nothing like a New York hot dog and an ice cold Coca Cola. Yep. He had already planned his lunch for that day. "Those are some fiiiine choices. We were really getting on our feet during that time." <br><br>"And you?" <br><br>Uh oh. <br><br>"What era sparks Master Carter's creativity?" <br><br>His eyebrows rose at the question as he let out a breath, his mind whirling and twirling as he thought about her inquiry. He knew his favorite eras, of course, but where did he start? "Well, Abstract Expressionism, for sure, is one of them. I mean, Kandinsky is a favorite, as you know." He stepped ahead of her and turned around so that he was facing her, only turning to cross the street when necessary as he spoke. He was usually animated, but it was turned up a notch as he spoke of his true passion. "Just, the colors, are so vivid and radiant. They engulf you. They take you to this whole other world, y'know? One so alternate from our own." <br><br>He was on a roll already. "People seem to think that these artists just throw paint on a board and call it art but they really gotta think. They gotta decide what color will bring it to that next level, which placement of said color would mean the most. What decision will make this canvas the beauty it deserves to be?" He let out a dreamy sigh, glancing up at the dull smoky sky for a moment. He knew how these artists felt, because it was what he tried to accomplish everyday. He could only dream to be as great as them. He would never be them though, and he didn't want to be. An artist had to be his own person, always. He could not be like another. He could only be himself. "It's incredible. Really incredible." <br><br>It wasn't like he had just one favorite though. Of course not. There was so much that inspired him. Honestly, every era had inspired him in some way, but these select choices were the ones that had really grabbed him. "But, I also love Impressionism, and Post Impressionism, sooo basically I love the same time period as you but the actual art part of it." He grinned, his eyes alight with a sparkling fire, "Ugh, the tranquility of that time. The softness of each paint stroke, each one made with such care. I wanna immerse myself in those worlds. I want to step in and be apart of it. It's like this dream, this magnificent dream." He shook his head, like he could barely believe the spectacular time even existed, "And the way the people were projected on that canvas? It's like you truly see them. You can see inside them, like they are letting their walls down. It's surreal. Totally breathtaking." <br><br>He finally turned around to walk beside her again, clearing his throat, "Sorry about that, but yeah, those are my favorites, though I really like them all." He let out a light chuckle, just as they arrived at the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. "Ah, here we are!" He trotted up the steps and went inside with her, flashing his employee pass at the woman at the counter before he gestured that Cora was with him so that she would be allowed. The lady simply nodded, and together the two headed through a pair of double doors marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY'. He led her down the hallway before he came to a room where several paintings were leaning against the wall, some looking only half restored, others looking brand new, and others looking they had seen much better days. <br><br>"Welcome to my office." Carter grinned as he walked to the middle of the room and gestured to the paintings, "These are the guys I work with everyday. Well, the ones that don't talk anyway. The ones that do talk are probably in the other room with the shards. C'mon." He nodded his head towards the opposite door before he walked with her into the next room, where sculptures that needed assistance were held, and then led her down a hallway and out through another door, where they finally arrived at the closed Ancient Greek exhibit. It was filled with tons of artifacts, some broken but most mainly intact. There were vases, statues, urns, and many other things on display, but of course, there was a small group of people huddled around the newest and most important part of it, which was the shards of Aphrodite. It almost looked like a watering hole in the great savannahs of Africa. <br><br>"I guess we'll have to try to squeeze in." He seemed a little reluctant when it came to going over to his coworkers, but he went ahead and made his way into the group, "Heya guys! How's the glass gleamin'?" He inquired in an excited fashion as he nudged through the crowd, creating a space for himself and for Cora. ""Wow." He whispered under his breath once his eyes fell upon the grand site, simply nodding to his fellow employees when they greeted him, some not hiding the strange sort of melancholy in their tone. He just hoped Cora was too busy gazing at the shards to even notice. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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| Vidia | Oct 7 2011, 03:10 PM Post #15 |
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[align=center] [/align][dohtml]<center><div style="width: 407px; text-align:justify;"> "Well, look at that. We've got something in common, now don't we?" <br><br>"Oh, yeah," Cora said, eyes widening with faux astonishment. "Forget Kandinsky, you and me are best friends now." She smirked, but then her smile softened some, and she glanced away, concentrating her gaze on the lamp posts and strangers instead. Best friends. That was a laugh. She hadn't had a real friend, let alone a best one, in centuries. People had to know your real self to really be your friend, and that just didn't happen for Cora. It was a miracle enough that she had…lost herself in conversation with Carter already. But he had just let her go on and on without interrupting, as if her words were the most natural thing in the world. <br><br>"Oh, well, now those is definitely some of my favorite inventions." <br><br>"Right? Absolutely genius," Cora responded with a grin. "I can still remember my first hot dog." Which she didn't realize was a funny thing to say, since most people were really young when they first had theirs, and they wouldn't remember it. Cora had been hundreds of years old, with the appearance of being in her early twenties still. The entire concept had been so different, the bread replacing a plate so people could just carry it and eat it without making a big mess of things. <br><br>"Those are some fiiiine choices. We were really getting on our feet during that time." <br><br>He got it. Just like that. <br><br> "Yeah," Cora said, smiling at Carter warmer than before…warmer than she had smiled at anyone in a long time. "We were." It was the first time she had included herself in it, like she was part of "people", this society in general, too, and for once, it didn't sound entirely…off with her. If anyone was to say it, it should be Cora, because she was actually present in those times. And yet, it had just never felt right to her to associate herself with these people who were affected by time, these people she held on a pedestal and wanted to be. <br><br>Carter started talking about his favorite era…or eras, then. She wasn't surprised. She had only spent this much time with him, but she was already beginning to figure him out, and she couldn't imagine him picking any other time periods. She liked them too, for the more liberal views of the world that could be seen, as opposed to back in the day, when people mostly painted what they saw. But Carter didn't just talk about the period, the movement, the transgression and evolution of art. He talked about the movements, the emotions…damn, he talked about the strokes of the paintbrush alone, and what they meant to him, what he saw. <br><br>Cora didn't interrupt him. Not because she was being polite, or because he had done that for her, but because she just really wanted to hear. If the outside noises were bothering her, she would have been frustrated, but Cora couldn't even hear the sounds of car engines and horns and footsteps anymore. She heard his voice, and his thoughts, and his passions and his wants to be part of this different world…and she understood it. Because Cora had lived, and lived long, and seen this world and its beauties, and what artists saw. To her, mortality was like an art. Living life, and feeling it, and being a part of an existence. Being worn down by time. Carter wanted to be in these dream worlds of paints and colors, and Cora wanted to be in the dream world of a real life. She had never really painted anything worthwhile, that talent didn't run through her veins, but she could understand it, appreciate it, and fall in love with it. And now, unbeknownst to Cora herself, now that she was understanding Carter, she was in danger of appreciating and falling in love with him too. By himself, he was a work of art. <br><br>"Sorry about that, but yeah, those are my favorites, though I really like them all." <br><br>Cora brushed off his apology. She had got what she wanted…no, more than that. "I understand," Cora said, almost simply as he returned to her side, and she looked at him, her azure eyes like shining slabs of sapphire pushing past the exterior. "The colors, the dreams, the world and what you see in it. You want to keep it, fold yourself into it…or into yourself." She said that without a second thought and there was nothing more, and together, they ascended the steps. They went inside without any problems, and Carter soon led her to his office, a plain room with paints and pieces. <br><br>"Huh," Cora said as she stared at the paintings, recognizing most of the work. She didn't examine them with half as much interest or wonder as she had examined Carter's murals, though. "Why are you putting time into restoring other people's art when you could be focusing on your own?" The minute her uncensored words slipped through her mouth, she regretted it. "Sorry," Cora said, with a short sigh of aggravation at her own words. "I know it's not my place." Cora frowned at herself, shaking her head and wondering why she was investing so much of her thoughts into someone else's life, when it was none of her business. Especially with her situation. "You probably do it because you love the original work and the museum." She lifted a hand and dropped it. She was stupid for speaking up. Everyone had their own reasons, she of all people would know that. But Cora still wasn't finished. <br><br> "Just…" Cora started again, eyes moving over the work, but nowhere near as intensely as they had when she had looked at his own pieces. She knew the work, and the artists, and while Carter was doing a better job than anyone could ask for in restoring them… "…seems like a waste, Carter." It wasn't like Kandinsky spent his time reviving Van Goghs, after all. Cora turned back to him, pursing her lips slightly, but she shrugged it off as if it was nothing, not wanting to cause problems and such--even though she meant every word she said. <br><br>"The ones that do talk are probably in the other room with the shards. C'mon." <br><br>Cora followed Carter through the hallways of the museum, getting a grip on herself as she moved. She was only here for the shards. She should know better than to get involved with other people's lives. Cora just didn't like to anything, especially talent, wasted. Soon they reached a room that was unfortunately, packed with Carter's co-workers…some of which who were greeting the artist in a way that definitely wasn't ordinary, but Cora didn't notice, too set on finally seeing the last obstacle in her path in real life. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was rendered speechless. The shards were carefully angled suspended over a clear pool of water so that people could see the eerie reflections in the celestial shards. There was no question about it. These were the real deal. <br><br>"When will they be shown to the public?" Cora asked Carter in hushed tones, finally tearing her gaze away from them. If she was lucky, the museum wanted to prolong the suspense and wait till more people heard about it until revealing them, but then again…they were miraculous. They might want to showcase them as soon as possible, which would make them harder to steal. </div></center></BR>[/dohtml] |
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