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| Alosia's Musings; [a journal of progress] | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 21 2009, 09:47 AM (45 Views) | |
| Alosia | Jun 21 2009, 09:47 AM Post #1 |
what it means to burn
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Quite often I got lost. It was probably the lack of interest in maps. I never felt the need for one. That, or instructions. I was a strong believer in being able to figure out things along the way, or just asking someone for help. More so the former. So I sat in yet another Inn in yet another town I knew not the name of. It was almost tiresome... having no where particular to go. But my worries and issues, the past regrets, seem to fade away under the warm, tingling embrace of the mug. It wasn't even noon yet, of course I only stopped last night around four when I passed out, but still. Breakfast. Rum and rolls. A delicious combination. Perhaps they could find me some turkey? I haven't had any of that in a while. I didn't want to ask though. The waitress was being bogged down by quite a few very drunk men. Drunk men were the worst. I've never had a single good experience with them-even that one guy friend I had for a few months in that one town. Now, drunk woman... they were much better. Of course, they were prone to getting very loud and bitchy, sometimes they cried, but I enjoyed it a lot better then the macho 'lets go to bed' bullshit the men tended to do. Hunching over my breakfast, I scarfed it down and took a sip of my drink. Though it was barely noon, the place was still crowded with people. Of all the towns I'd been in... this one seemed to have the most drunks. Swallowing the rest of my rum, I raised my gaze to the waitress and she came over. "More rum?" She had a pretty smile and I nodded. Taking my mug, she wandered away. Two hours later. My head felt heavy and I felt suddenly very dirty. Not in a sexual kind of way, just as in dirt on my skin. This place was filthy, full of disgusting people. I watched them from my spot in the corner. There was a man in a cloak sitting by himself arguing with a table of other men across the room. The waitresses were looking a bit nervous, maybe it was a regular event? The one that was sitting alone called a waitress over and as he was telling her what he wanted, her grabbed her behind and pulled her onto his lap. He laughed and the table of the other men made noises of anger. I ignored them. There wasn't anything I could do. Not like I had any weapons or anything. I wasn't the greatest of fighters. I did feel bad for the waitress though. Downing the rest of my mug, I waved at her and she struggled from the man's grip and headed towards me. The man glared at me, his eyes glowing from under his cloak's hood. "Thanks..." She murmured, taking my mug. I stared at her a moment and attempted a smile. She was pretty, I understood why the man did what he did, but there was still no excuse for it. She avoided the lone man and went to refill my mug. I felt the lone man's gaze still on me and I traced a finger over the grains in the wood table. I felt a bit sleepy. Perhaps this would be my last drink and then I'd go to my room. Perhaps. When the waitress returned I asked her to sit. She glanced around a moment and then sat. "I wondered... when your shift was over?" I hoped my words came out like I had planned them in my head. I couldn't tell other then the obvious slur. She frowned a bit and shrugged. "An hour... maybe... why?" She didn't feel put off, at least it didn't seem like it. Good. "Well... I've got a room, and I wondered if you'd join me? Number four?" She smiled faintly. "I don't know... I'm just..." "No, no.. it's ok. I'm sorry I asked. Thanks for the drink." I nodded and she stood there a second, staring at me, before wandering off. Standing, I held the mug close to me and made my way to the stairs. Yes, it wasn't anywhere near night, but I was tired. Last night was a long night. Someone was having a birthday and I sort of invited myself. Remembering what little of the night I could, I started laughing as I went up the stairs and to my room. Digging the key to room four out of my jacket pocket, I struggled with the lock for a second and then let myself in. The room was quaint enough. Small window shrouded by a thin black curtain. A queen-sized four-poster bed pushed in the center of one wall and a door across from it that was ajar, revealing a tiny bathroom. I didn't care. It was better then the gutter. Setting my mug on the inn table, I turn to shut the door, but something stopped it. I stared at in confusion a moment and then it swung open. "Well... hello there." The voice was low and I stared. The lone man from earlier stood in my doorway. "What're... you doing?" The man laughed lightly. "You got in my way, you know?" "No... I didn't... not really..." The man stepped into the world and pushed me hard. I stumbled to the ground. Hitting my elbow hard, I rolled and clutched it. I heard as the door shut with a quiet click. The world spun and I tried to focus as the man neared me. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and I squirmed. He was a lot stronger then he looked. Throwing me on the bed, he struggled with his belt as he knelt on it next to me. I suddenly realized what he meant to do and I flipped, scrambling off the bed and to the hard floor. I hit with a thud. The man grunted and went after me, his pants starting to slip down. He ripped his cloak off and threw it aside. He had a large scar across the side of his face and his eyes were an electric blue. The man grabbed me again and turned to drag me across the room. I clawed at the ground and kicked, but it didn't stop him. I started screaming and he swung around to slap a hand over my mouth. "Now, you shut the hell up!" He growled and with a foot on my chest and a hand still over my hand, he yanked his belt from the loops of his pants and wrapped it around my neck. He tightened it and I gasped, clawing at the leather. Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door. I tried to cry out, but nothing came. The man grinned down at me and I stared at him, my vision blurry. "Wh.." I didn't managed to get much else out. I struggled to try and breath, but nothing. I almost felt like crying. Was this it? Was this the end? I didn't do anything important with my life... I didn't do anything good. I piss and drank and gambled and screwed my life away. I felt the man's cold lips against my chin and heard as the bedroom door slammed open. In his shock, he let go of the belt and my fingers dug under it and loosened it enough to gasp for breath. Turning my hazy gaze to the door, I saw the waitress from early standing there-a shocked look on her face. The man leaped off the bed and dove at the girl, a strange almost feline movement and then suddenly... a huge spear of ice appeared out of nowhere and went straight through the man's torso. The waitress screamed as he felt to the ground. The ice disappeared and blood pooled out from the man. Yanking the belt from my throat, I looked up at the waitress, who stood in the doorway with a horrified expression on her face. "What happened?" I croaked. She looked up at me and the horrified look was immediately replaced by sympathy. "I don't know... It's ok." She entered the room, shutting the door behind her. ((What follows is explicit.  1354 words))[R4E]Had to stop to feed the baby.[/R4E]
Edited by Alosia, Jun 21 2009, 12:07 PM.
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description || inventory || journal Look at Oepidus-- proof that none of us mortals can truly be thought of as happy until he is granted deliverance from life, until he is dead and must suffer no more. -Oepidus Rex Spoiler: click to toggle JULY 09 BANNER COMPETITION RUNNER UP | |
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| Alosia | Jun 22 2009, 01:52 AM Post #2 |
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what it means to burn
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I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or I'm going crazy or coincidence... But it seems to follow me. It gets me out of tight situations. That night at the Inn, come to find out it was in Ataxarch.. A city surrounded completely by walls (minus a gate of course) in the Western Lands, was what did it for me. No more binging. It was much harder said then done. The waitress there helped me out quite some bit, what with her covering up my murder that I was completely unable to explain (and who would believe me, anyway? A spear of ice? Yeah right!) and her helping me with the sobering up. She explained where I was and showed me it on a map. The reality of where a year of my life went hit me. My tiny town was so far away on the map, across a sea even. She told me the trip itself, straight through, would've taken me months. But seeing as I tended to stay weeks in various city getting wasted and into trouble... it took me much, much longer. I swear I remember being in jail for a long span of time. Not long enough to get me off the booze though. So it had to be less then two weeks. The waitress told me her name. It was Julia. I told her I liked it. We had sex. Anyway, back to my crazy alcoholic coincidence. It was akin to my insanely irritating pain when I went without being in or near a body of water for several days. I couldn't be bothered to figure out how many days... As many of those days tended to blur together, but it was fairly long I assumed. It seemed whenever I was in a pinch... Something incredible would happen involving water or ice. When I told Julia of these instances (many a times it saving my life) she explained it may be I have an affinity to the two and it clicked. My mother was an aquatic elf. Maybe it was some weird magic I inherited? For weeks I tried to summon water or ice and nothing happened. Julia soothed my disappointment very easily, but I still spoke of it to her. It bothered me. Maybe if I found my mother and spoke to her... she could explain it to me? Of course though, I had no idea where to begin with that. I never knew my mother. She practically left me on my father's doorstep. I couldn't blame her too much, but I still didn't like her because of it. I'd probably go off on her, which probably wouldn't be a very good thing. Julia agreed. I had been sober for three months when it happened. A crazed, drunk man entered the Inn and started harassing Julia. I was in my corner as usual, but instead of rum... I was sipping water and eating a ham sandwich. Normally, I could tolerate the men hitting on Julia. It was her lively-hood after all. But this man was getting particularly rough about it. Grabbing her and yanking her around. Finally, I had enough when he slammed her into the counter and proceeded to try and have his way with her. As I stood to intervene something horrifying and incredible happened. Water suddenly started pouring out of the man's mouth. He backed away from Julia, confusing and fear spreading across his face. He clutched his throat as more water gushed out and joining it, a flow from his ears and nose. I gasped and tried to stop it, but couldn't. The man stumbled around, a gurgle of screams emitting from his throat until her ran into a table, knocking it down. He fell to the ground where he struggled for a few seconds more and then fell still. I was so focused on the man's death that I didn't noticed the reaction of the rest of the building. Gasps went around and one person yelled "Witch!" while several other yelled in agreement. I looked helplessly over at Julia and she gave me a pathetic look before turning away. It hurt my chest so bad when she turned away. She was denying me... How could she? I could say now that I probably did love her a little bit, but at the time... any feelings of fondness that had been forming dissipated to just complete rage. Turning swiftly from her, I pushed through the crowd of people forming around me, them all hissing and attempting to stop me, and ran from the building. They chased me from their town. I didn't go back as I heard rumors of a bounty placed on my head. I didn't mean to kill the man, honestly. Just stop him. Is that what they all say? I don't know. But somehow... the ice and water... it isn't a coincidence. I still cannot control it at all, but maybe I don't want to. What would I need all that power for? Who do I have to protect? Fuck you Julia. ((word count: 825)) |
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description || inventory || journal Look at Oepidus-- proof that none of us mortals can truly be thought of as happy until he is granted deliverance from life, until he is dead and must suffer no more. -Oepidus Rex Spoiler: click to toggle JULY 09 BANNER COMPETITION RUNNER UP | |
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| Alosia | Jun 27 2009, 10:46 AM Post #3 |
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what it means to burn
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((OOC: Be forewarned, this is a touch graphic. If it's felt overly so... I'll move it to the mature board.. if that's the case I'll probably do more detail.)) I remember staring up at her as she rose her foot and promptly stomped it down on my face. My vision blurred and I attempted to roll away, but her foot easy connected with my side and during that second I was wincing in pain... she towered over me again. "You're so worthless... Not even your own mother wanted you." I was 12. She was 19. My father had taken my step-mother and two half-siblings to some sort of event. I wasn't aloud to go. I don't remember why. My head really hurt. My step-sister offered to babysit as sweetly as she could. She was seven years older then me, but she was the golden child. Nothing she could ever do would be wrong. They trusted her to take good care of me. Cybelle smirked down at me as her heel connected with my face again and this time it really stung. Her face twisted to a looked of shock for a second before she dismissed it and grinned. The warm blood trickled down my face and she laughed. She did this often. I was completely miserable because of it. My only escape was my grandma's. She knew something bad was going down and she covered my bruises with her weird smelling makeup. I couldn't understand how my father would believe her when she told him I was lying. About her beating me up, about her telling me I should kill myself. Cybelle kicked me again, the jolt sending me into the fetal position. I endured three more kicks before scrambling away. Hiding under a table, I watched her as she unzipped her boots and pushed them aside. "Are you going to stay there?" She asked. I nodded. My side hurt so much. I just wanted to look at it and make sure there wasn't any real damage to it. To make sure I was ok. Cybelle shrugged. "God, I'm so horny." She muttered, pushing off her pants. I stared at her wide-eyed in her white shirt and strange little panties. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I sat perfectly still. She walked up to the table and all I could see were her legs. She knocked on top of it. "Hey, stupid. You're going to stay here and stay quiet. My boyfriend is coming over and he wants a watcher." She turned and left the room. Letting out a huge sigh, I fell onto my side and pulled my shirt up. Staring at the almost welt on my side, it was so red-but thankfully no blood, I felt like crying. My own father... didn't believe me. Where did he figure I got the bruises? I wouldn't know. Who knew what he thought. Why did he hate me? When that stupid woman came into his life... he left me so alone and ignored. More so then usual. My only escaped was my grandmother's house. God, why didn't he ask her to babysit? I heard the front door open and as Cybelle greeted her boyfriend. The door slammed and then there was silence until I heard heavy steps, obviously her boyfriend's. They entered the room. I couldn't help but stare. He wasn't particularly gorgeous, but he was so big. Twice as big as Cybelle. His muscles bulged. He looked much too old for her. But I wasn't aloud to say anything. Imagine if she asked him to smack me around. He had such large hands, they might kill me. The man lifted Cybelle up and she screamed with laughter. He threw her on the couch and then headed in my direction. I gulped and pressed myself against the wall. He crouched and gazed at me. "She's suitable. Cute little thing." He turned his head a bit to glance at my step-sister. "What's her name?" "Oh, what does it matter, Gerald? She just my stupid little step-sister." The man shrugged. "I guess you're right." He stood and went to her. I frowned. Stupid. Little. What does it matter? What do I matter? I watched as they starting making out. I hadn't really seen anything like it before. I was a virgin. I mean, need I say again I was 12. I wish I could've been a normal 12 year old. Play outside with other kids. Go to a normal school. All thought processed stopped when they started ripping off each other's clothes. I'd never seen a man before. It was very strange looking. So large. Kind of gross. Hers looked a lot like mine, but her thick hair just a stripe. And her breasts, a lot larger then mine. So odd. I looked away when they started doing something that caused a lot of noise. It made me feel sick. Clutching my stomach, I stared down at the wood floor. My vision was blurry, my head heavy. "Not want to watch?" It was the man's voice. I glanced up, a three second delay leaving me disoreintated. "She doesn't want to watch Cybelle... This isn't good." Cybelle gasped and moaned. "No... it's ok, it's ok. We'll find someone else. You don't have to..." "Shut up!" Cybelle fell silent and I heard as the man neared. I stared at his socks. He had a hole in the toe of his right foot. He crouched, and grabbed my arm. Yanking me out from under the table, he dragged me across the floor and to the couch, tossing me next to my step-sister. I glanced at her. She was sweaty and had a cross of disappointment and utter terror on her face. "What...?" I started and Cybelle gasped. "Oh fuck... look at her head!" Her voice was shrill and it hurt my ears. What was wrong with me? Did she really hurt me this time? Had to be that... never before had I felt like such crap. "I don't care. You promised me something. Remember, Cybelle?" "Yes, but..." Her voice was quiet. The man's hands were rough as he ripped at my clothes. They were rough as he touched me, and struck me across the face when I tried to stop him. My vision went to black and the last thing I heard was Cybelle screaming. - Where was I? I felt cold, various spots on my body sore. Places that never hurt before stung so bad. Blinking a couple times, darkness was all around me. Again, where was I? I heard a voice. "So... you're awake." It was Cybelle. Her voice was monotoned. I looked around, but couldn't see her. "I swear to god, if you mention this to your dad... I will personally take you to Gerald so he may deal with you." There wasn't any hostility in her voice, but I knew what she said was a hundred percent true. I tried to speak, but my mouth felt so swollen, I could barely get air through it. All I managed was a painful whimper and Cybelle let out a harsh, single laugh. "Don't even start with that shit, bitch." I heard her footsteps and then when a door slammed. ((1153 words)) Edited by Alosia, Jun 27 2009, 10:49 AM.
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description || inventory || journal Look at Oepidus-- proof that none of us mortals can truly be thought of as happy until he is granted deliverance from life, until he is dead and must suffer no more. -Oepidus Rex Spoiler: click to toggle JULY 09 BANNER COMPETITION RUNNER UP | |
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| Alosia | Jun 30 2009, 11:05 AM Post #4 |
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what it means to burn
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What is wrong with me? That after all that hard work quitting it... I go right back to it again. It is like... a siren or something of equal potency. It is like... I'll die without it. I know that's not true. I know I'll be just fine. After the weeks of agony and cravings. I knew it well, I didn't want to go through it again. Eventually, it'll kill me this liquor will. For weeks I had been searching for her. My mother. I had some prospects. I had went to several cities trying to see if anyone knew her. I swear I've done this before. I have no idea. Maybe I have. I can't find her. She doesn't want me. She never did. Why did I try? Nobody ever wanted me. In the end everyone who I ever cared about, or who actually cared about me, left. They were all gone. No matter, I was over the majority of them. But I never even knew my mother. It was winter, I think when I went to the Isle of Women. I'd heard stories of the warrior women there, and stories of a small colony of woman water elves that were there to. I figured... that would be my best bet so far to find my mother. It was a terrible journey. I ended up being sober the majority of the time due to the lack of alcohol available. How sad is that? That I have to mention that. Lord. She wasn't there. I went all that way, nearly dying from being attacked by a horde of harpies... And she wasn't there. They'd never heard of her. And I didn't look familiar. They ignored me after that... giving me disgusted looks I knew all too well. Not all elves/human breeds were as widely accepted as led to believe. Alcohol, it seems, is my only companion. If I should die soon, it'd just ok. What more could I ask for? ((310 words)) Edited by Alosia, Jun 30 2009, 11:06 AM.
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description || inventory || journal Look at Oepidus-- proof that none of us mortals can truly be thought of as happy until he is granted deliverance from life, until he is dead and must suffer no more. -Oepidus Rex Spoiler: click to toggle JULY 09 BANNER COMPETITION RUNNER UP | |
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