InvisionFree - Free Forum Hosting
Create your own social network with a free forum.
Learn More · Sign-up for Free


 
reply
topic
poll

 tact is not exactly my forte, tag Roy
lorelei odelle devereux
Posted: Apr 20 2011, 08:27 PM


Mute Swan ~ played by Sphinx
Group Icon

Group: SHIFTER
Posts: 10
Member No.: 48
Joined: 14-April 11



I knew when we collided, you're the one
user posted image
I have decided you're one of mine

It was such a strange sensation, to feel extrinsic and bewildered simply from the act of vacating her apartment. Everything seemed so bright and vivid, in comparison to all the black and white, washed out pages of the text books that she had been so thoroughly submerged in for the past eight hours. She thought, if they truly existed, that this must be what an alien felt like when stepping out of the elaborate, foreign portal of their space ships and flying saucers. The world was so…. large, so wide open! Of course, she had spent a lot of time outside when she was young, and even in high school only a few short years ago, during cheerleading practice. But ever since moving to New Orleans, she felt as though she didn’t get out very much, so involved was she in her studies. And every time that she stepped outside after being shut in for hours on end, she had the same sensation of being a foreign being in an unfamiliar land.

Lorelei was grateful to get out of her little rundown apartment. She felt as though she’d been locked inside of the domestic cage for centuries, instead of mere hours. The wayward beams of the setting sun kissed her skin gently, a welcome change from the fluorescent lights of her living room overhead. The natural lighting seemed oddly foreign to her now and she hadn’t realized, until she stepped out of her doorway, just how much she had missed being outside. Granted, her self-induced isolation had been necessary. With finals rapidly approaching, she’d been tackling the information in her text books with a single minded intensity that had earned her a diploma a year earlier than her twin brother. It was only when her eyes had begun to cross, her temples to throb, and the words on the pages to blur beyond the point of comprehension, that Lorelei had released herself from her solitary confinement.

Wandering down the streets of the French Quarter, Lorelei let her eyes feast on the beauty of the sights of all the vintage architecture, soaking in the blithe atmosphere. Everything here was so… festive and carnivalesque. Throbbing, dulcet music poured out of the doors and windows, filling every street with jazz. On the streets, various artists perched before easels or stroked various instruments, displaying their creative talent for all the appreciative tourists and passersby. Though she had been living in New Orleans for years, Lorelei still felt like a tourist on the rare occasion that she meandered down into the Quarter. She was still enchanted by the infectious, soulful atmosphere of this old, cornerstone of the great city. As she passed this artist and that, she gave what she could, dropping a few coins into hats and music cases her and there. She didn’t have much to give, having grown up in a poor family and struggling with every day to make ends meet, but she wasn’t stingy with what she did have and, when she ran out of money, she let her words tip for her, complimenting this painting here, and that melody there. Every word that fell from her lips was sincere and heartfelt.

After an hour or more of delightfully aimless wandering, Lorelei's stomach began to ache slightly. Though she knew she shouldn't afford anything to eat, in this area of town- the prices often being steep due to the large amount of tourists it saw- she also knew that she was not ready to go home yet and raid the depressingly marginal stores that were spread across the shelves in her pantry. But, as she crossed the street, a display of vivid color and brilliant shape caught her eye, ending her inner, conflicting dialogue as she careened to a halt there in the street, momentarily entranced by the painting she saw. It was so... so... perfect for that empty spot on the wall in her bedroom. The rest of her walls were pretty much covered by various family photos taken throughout her very eventful childhood. But she drew the line at the threshold into her personal sleeping quarters. If- and it was a big if- she ever happened to bring a guy home, the last thing she wanted was to have Riley, her twin brother, or Jared, their older brother, staring down on her. The two of them were like dual buckets of cold water splashed over a flaring campfire... they could put out any flame quickly.

It was a funny thing, the possessive qualities granted to her by the feathered fowl she could shift in to. Instantly, the painting went from being a beautiful peace of a sidewalk artist to being... hers. And all thought of price, at that moment, fled her mind. All she could think of was seeing that picture hanging on the wall in her bedroom next to her bookcase. It would be a perfect addition of color to her otherwise drab quarters. Right now, the only thing vivid in that room was her comforter and, at times, her bright pink cell phone- which had been a gift from her older sister, who found the idea of their brothers being able to contact her at any time, day or night, to be infuriatingly hysterical.

Casting her brown eyes about, Lorelei searched for the artist, positive that her intent had been clear in her expression as she had gazed, almost adoringly, at the painting before her. When she locked eyes with a nearby man, she was certain that the connection of buyer-seller had been made. Turning, Lorelei took a few steps to him, offering a polite, inviting smile as she motioned to the painting. "Is this your work? It's very beautiful," her eyes once again moved to linger over the delicate brush strokes before she returned her attention tot he man, "I've been looking for a painting just exactly like this for my home... It's just perfect for a bare spot I have on my wall. How much are you selling it for?" Whatever it was, Lorelei was almost certain she didn't have it in pocket. She hoped she had enough in savings for it, because the last thing she wanted to do was to call Riley and remind him that he owed her money since she still wasn't speaking to him after the last time he had visited her and made a spectacle of himself at the bar they had visited.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to hold a painting, until I could make payment, would you?" She asked hopefully.


TAG: ROY BOURNE OUTFIT: HERE ARTIST & LYRICS: BLACK EYED PEAS & I GOT A FEELING BANNER BY: SPHINX. TEMPLATE BY: SPARROW ! @ CAUTION. ONE LAST THING: NOTES.



--------------------
user posted image
^
royce samual bourne
Posted: Apr 27 2011, 01:34 PM


Newbie
Group Icon

Group: HYBRID
Posts: 9
Member No.: 33
Joined: 9-March 11






I WON'T FORGET THE PAIN
SO FAMILIAR AND CLOSE TO THE HEART

He had been left alone that day, alone with his thoughts, his worries and his paranoia. Three of his greatest and most reliable friends when that of his other half was not around, no we are not talking that of a soul mate, but soul sibling, someone that should’ve been his twin when indeed she was born nearly 12 years after him. And for the first few hours of his semi-lonely day he had been working on a mural that covered the wall in his living room. What the creation would turn into was unknown to even the artist, he simply painted, did not pay attention to what it was he was painting. The worst that could happen was it was a piece of crap, and it was nothing that a little bit more paint and primer couldn’t get rid of. But the Loft Apartment that he had barely managed to afford for him and his little sister was so lifeless, something he wished to let go off now that his own heart was beating regularly in his chest once again. The feeling, it was an amazing one, to feel the strongest muscle in your body to come back to life after being dormant for nearly nine years. Never again would he take the beating heart for granted again, he also believed his sister would never do that again either. She seemed ecstatic when she could simply listen to it again, and having her ear cupped to his chest sometimes was amazing, a feeling he’d never give up for the world, not again anyway.

But as time moved on, and the morning slowly crept into that of mid to late afternoon he found bored with that of the large painting. It was not finished, but he had no more inspiration for it anymore. But what was he to do, nothing needed to really be done around the house. For once he really didn’t have anything to worry about other than the usual, and the usual was something that always seemed to be bigger than “the usual” worries. But the usual for them, was an extreme for others. He was on the run, wanted by a lot of people including his parents. He had kidnapped his sister, he had committed a crime and he was sure no one would fully understand why.

It was out of love, out of the need to protect, to make sure the only piece of family that ever dared to love him stayed safe. Vampires were after her, sure he “died” to keep her safe but he did not blame her for that. So, he had kidnapped his own little sister, hell he’d give up his beating heart for her. Sure she would refuse to let him do that but, well that was her problem, she wouldn’t be able to, nor would he allow her to stop him if it ever came down to it. Luckily it hadn’t to recently, he had a family he could put Nick with if things got bad, would get the cops off they’re asses and then life would go on as normal as it possibly could, that was the usual paranoia that swallowed him whole everyday. Every time she walked home alone was a chance she could’ve been taken away from him.

But with a firm shake of his head, messy and some-what long blonde hair falling into his eyes and he looked around and just grabbed a large piece of canvas and a an empty frame. With a quick pull and a few staples he managed to create a large painting canvas, something he was used to painting with. Easel in hand as well as his oil paints he grabbed anything else he might need, including the brushes to apply said paint and he was off on a trek he himself hadn’t even expected to take. Going out into public, he had always told himself it was more of a risk and was never worth it, but cabin fever was finally setting in, he missed the bright brilliant colors that were naturally made in nature, the very reason he found art to be amazing. His sister was another reason he painted, she always seemed to enjoy what ever it was that he painted, and if it made her happy it was a joy to do it. So going to the park in hopes of getting another sellable piece done was his goal, while his sister didn’t like his more classic pieces others did, and it got him the cash he needed to help them live.

So the park was his destinations, a place with subjects, light, and enough people around to give him a comfort an empty ally could never give. It took awhile to get set up, so many other artists there already seeing how it was the French quarter, one of the more popular artists spots around New Orleans. But once set up it was not hard to get into the groove of painting, hours went by, he was zoning out, ignoring that around him so he could paint. What he was painting was what he would call his style. It seemed to be what people that bought his pieces of work liked, so he kept that style. In other words it was a “classic Royce Bourne” piece. Now if only he could see that happen in a gallery, but he wasn’t expecting to have that happen any time soon. He was a good artist, but not spectacular, and he had a lot to work on to get there. But there, were always surprises waiting for him every time he seemed to go outside.

Oh, this uh yea its my piece. I’m more than willing to sell it to you, price is up in the air, but I don’t go under 200 hundred, It costs to make it, but we can negotiate a price.” His hands and even a bit of his face was covered in the various paints that it took to create the supposed “master piece” beside him. Rubbing hands on his jeans he looked to her, attempting to clean up a little bit. But with dry paint cleaning required a shower, and that required being home, and so that would have to wait. “I can certainly hold it as long as there’s a guarantee that you’ll be buying. I’ll hold it for as long as you need. Also, if you want it framed I’ll do that for you as well for 50 dollars more.” He gave a small smile, his paranoia nagging at the back of his head as he kept telling himself that she was just another costumer, yet he was a dude, man, guy what ever the hell you wanted to call him, she was pretty, and there weren’t to many people that he called that. So the women, if she ever found out, would end up feeling rather special or at least that’s what he thought. He did not get close to people so if anyone knew who he was, they would’ve felt special to even have him not suspect them of anything, but like his paranoia he did suspect her of something, but he wasn’t rude enough to about right point that out and look like a nut job.





--------------------
user posted image
^
lorelei odelle devereux
Posted: Apr 28 2011, 11:52 AM


Mute Swan ~ played by Sphinx
Group Icon

Group: SHIFTER
Posts: 10
Member No.: 48
Joined: 14-April 11



I knew when we collided, you're the one
user posted image
I have decided you're one of mine

Oh... oh my... It wasn't often that Lorelei was hit with an instantaneous attraction to a man. But there was something about the brawny, youthful energy exerted by the artist and the messy splatters of color that freckled his clothing and skin that she found... charming. Not wanting to be caught staring, she let her gaze leave him, as he wiped his hands down his jeans, hoping that he hadn't noticed the appreciative sweep her gaze had played over his form. Her smile became quiet and shy as admired the painting- her painting- once again. She was here, she reminded herself, for art. Not for social prospects. It wasn't her fault for noticing him... she was only human after all- unique though she might be- and he was, to put it very bluntly, gorgeous. Could she really be blamed for observing what was so plain to see? Lorelei thought not.

"I’m more than willing to sell it to you, price is up in the air, but I don’t go under 200 hundred, It costs to make it, but we can negotiate a price.”

Her chest rose and fell as she gave a wistful sigh. She'd expected it to cost, but she'd hoped against the odds that it would be something she could dredge up easily. Someday, she thought hopefully, I am going to be able to afford original pieces without having to go hungry for a week to do it. The woes of the starving college student, she thought. She certainly didn't have access to 200 dollars. Not when rent was due on the first of the month and she only had access, currently, to a part time job at a local coffee shop. Her brows drew together slightly in dismay as her lower lip poked outward in a pouting display of disappointment. Surely, by the time she had put away that much money, somebody else would have swooped in and bought the artwork in her stead, robbing her bedroom wall of the perfect splash of color that would tie the whole room together.

“I can certainly hold it as long as there’s a guarantee that you’ll be buying. I’ll hold it for as long as you need."

Like storm clouds clearing rapidly from a sunny sky, Lorelei's dismal expression went from night to day between the space of one breath and the next. She flashed white teeth in a blithe grin. Unable to resist the impulse, she bounced victoriously on the balls of her feet, just once. Oh, the power of the pout, she thought, turning her smile on the gorgeous artist. He was smiling too. albeit, the expression was polite and guarded. She somehow felt that he was being... vigilant or watchful for some reason. It made her wonder what his smile would look like unhindered, with eyes full of laughter and his skin creasing with the lines of amusement. It was an odd thought to have about a complete stranger, but she recognized the curiosity as a byproduct of the feathered pen that lived within her, who seemed to come awake suddenly, piquing with interest. Lore had long ago given up trying to decipher just exactly what drove the swan's primal instincts sometimes. They were beyond her human imagination... she was merely the vessel that held them and responded to them.

"Oh, you're wonderful!" she chirped sincerely, overjoyed and relieved that the painting would remain safe and unclaimed until she had the funds to pay for it. "I am really in love with it... I can't bare the thought of somebody else sweeping it up before I have the chance to!" In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea to tell a prospective supplier of merchandise she wanted that she didn't have sufficient funds to pay him. Advertising her lack of money was never a tactful way to approach a purchase. But Lorelei was ever straightforward. "I promise I will pay you ever cent for the piece and the frame," she continued, swiping one finger slantways just under her collar bone once, and the once in the opposite direction, "Cross my heart."

Reaching for her purse, Lore slipped a hand inside and began rooting around for a pen and a scrap on which she could write down her information, or his, in order to make arrangements for payment. "I wonder... might I be able to give it to you bit by bit? I'm... I'm on kind of a strict budget, with my scholarship funds... it'd honestly be quicker if I could make payments." She would understand if that made him wary, but she hoped that it would be favorable. She couldn't wait until the day that she could hang the piece on her wall. Finding what she was looking for, a cheap pen she had accidentally stolen from the gas station clerk the other day when she had bought a snack on her way to class, and the receipt for that same purchase, she tossed her hair out of her eyes and hastily scribbled a couple of circles to make sure that the ink hadn't dried out. "I'm Lore, by the way," she provided her name along with an inviting smile, offering her hand to shake, if he so chose. "I wonder... if I could get your phone number?" instantly feeling bashful by the question, afraid that it would seem.. forward, she hurried on, color staining her cheeks slightly, "I'm not coming onto you, or trying to pick you up," though the thought wasn't entirely unappealing, "I just want to arrange for payment..."

Just then, as though someone above had decided her blundering was just too painful to watch, a hurried pedestrian crossed in front of her, elbowing past rudely and trampling her toe in the process. Lorelei gave a startled, hissing squeak of pain as she stumbled backward, her pen and paper falling to the sidewalk as she tossed her arms to either side in an attempt to find something to steady her before she fell into the street. As she sailed downward, she wistfully imagined what a graceless spectacle she must seem. But the words that came out of her mouth were far separated from her thoughts, "Ouch, you jerk, watch it!" And then all she could do was brace for the impact that was surely to come.


TAG: ROY BOURNE OUTFIT: HERE ARTIST & LYRICS: BLACK EYED PEAS & I GOT A FEELING BANNER BY: SPHINX. TEMPLATE BY: SPARROW ! @ CAUTION. ONE LAST THING: NOTES.



--------------------
user posted image
^
InvisionFree - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums with no limits on posts or members.

Topic Options
reply
topic
poll


 




LADIES: 17 / MEN: 14

VAMPIRE: 1
LYCAN: 6
HUMAN: 7
WITCH: 8
SHIFTER: 6
HYBRID: 3









Hosted for free by InvisionFree* (Terms of Use: Updated 2/10/2010) | Powered by Invision Power Board v1.3 Final © 2003 IPS, Inc.
Page creation time: 0.3117 seconds | Archive