RE: u/c Uh oh. Another female requesting things. @A@
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It had been two weeks since she moved back into her old house. Not much had changed. The door to her room was really never opened after everything had been taken out. It didn't feel like home though. There had been many times after the divorce she asked her mother if she could visit her father. Or cry and beg for things to go back to the way they were. She hadn't realized how useless it was. A relationship with nothing but arguing could never be saved. But Isabelle believed they hadn't really thought of her in the end. She could have lived with her father, and stayed with her mother on the weekends. Or vice versa. A lot of children grew up in broken families. But her mother had been selfish. She didn't blame her. When a marriage ends no one wants to be alone. Her mother and her had always been close, so it made sense that she took her with. As she sat in her bed, staring at the ceiling, a feeling of stinging deja vu washing over her as she sat up. Luckily the pastel colors of her room took her away from the memory before it could move any farther. Moving slowly, she could only barely feel the soreness from the accident. The doctor told her it would last a bit longer. But there was no need to come back for anymore check-ups. Shortly after her last doctor's appointment, her father signed her up for school. She hadn't been to school since just before the accident. It was hard to believe it had only been three months. Knowing her father wouldn't be happy if she didn't move quickly. Her fingers pulled at the drawers. Silently fishing out an outfit that would be presentable. Nothing too fancy like the way most girls wanted to look on their first day. She was very unsure of what exactly her feelings were going back to school. Was she looking forward to it? There was no doubt she was scared. Often times she wondered how she would even function in daily life. It was hard to soak in the idea of no longer being able to speak. Moving into the hallway, she moved into the bathroom. Locking the door and stripping of her nightgown before reaching idly into the shower, turning the handle slowly to the left. The water beginning to stream from the shower head. Stepping in, she just sorta stood there. There were many times where she would just go over things in her mind. The feeling of warm water was always calming. Running her fingers through her long, wet, chocolate locks. She reached fro the shampoo, leaning her head back as the suds and bubbles began to take it's toll on her hair.
She moved slowly, almost robotic. It was one of those times where she went into a daze. Every day she went through a small moment of realizing that her voice was gone. She could no longer talk, or laugh. Her friends had always told her they loved her laugh. When they visited her in the hospital they had tried hard to make her smile, but it was sadly useless. Isabelle felt terrible that she couldn't speak with them at all. Communicate how much she would really miss them. Instead she could only write it on a notepad of paper. Closing her eyes, she could feel how heavy they were from tears. She went a few weeks without crying, but with the idea of school coming and also realizing she would have to get back into normal life, as if nothing happened was more than hard. Finishing her shower, she stepped out. Reaching for her towel and wrapping it around her body before moving her hand to remove the fog from the window. Luckily her eyes weren't puffy. As she stared at her reflection, her fingers absently brushed at the skin of her neck, her throat. Whenever she opened her mouth nothing came out. The doctor had told her it was both due to the traumatic experience she could no longer talk. Post traumatic stress syndrome wasn't rare. People went through it differently. Unfortunately she went through it in two ways. Physically and mentally. They kept her in the hospital after the accident to keep an eye on her depression. At first she wouldn't write any sort of message or communicate. She would only listen to the sign language lessons that they gave her. In those three months she learned a lot, but she didn't use it much, knowing not many people knew it. Drying off, she brushed her hair, and put her clothes on, a yellow blouse and a pair of worn jeans. She wasn't very tan, and hated the odd color of her violet eyes. She didn't like to stand out much at all. Funny how before all of this happened she wanted to be a singer. In choir she loved solos, it was the only time she didn't refuse to stand out. But more than anything now she wanted to just..disappear. Putting on her mascara, her lashes became darker, and longer. It was usually the only makeup she wore. Once she tied the orange scarf into her hair, she reached for the door knob and walked into the kitchen. Her father sitting at the table with the paper and some coffee. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. She was very happy to be able to see him again, if only it were under better circumstances.
After eating a quick breakfast, her father scooped her into the car. And drove her to school. Before she got out, he made sure she had her favorite writing pad, in which she communicated with people, and her favorite ink-gel pen. Her pad featured musical notes around the page. She loved music, and was thankful her ability to play piano had not been damaged. Staring at the school with insecurity in her eyes, her father patted her thigh. Leaning over and pressing his lips to her forehead. Then he put his fingers in the 'rock on' formation, with his thumb out. Smiling softly, she gestured the same. I love you too. And with that, she got out of the car. Looking around she saw everyone chatting and having fun, laughing. A tinge of jealousy went through her, but not for long. She quickly distracted herself with the idea of getting to her first class. The school was informed of her disability. They would not say anything but let the children find out on their own, or if asked in private tell them. Walking in, she was reminded of the first day of elementary school. So many kids, and she had been all alone as well. A familiar, goofy smile flashed in her mind. It had been so quick she looked up in a bit of shock. She..she had thought about him a lot lately. Especially since the accident. She could recall their final moments, he was holding back crying..he had always been so tough, always putting on a brave face for him. And she loved him, even if she was just a little girl. She remembered wrapping her pinky around his. Promising not to forget. And she remembered the tears that she shed. The bawling she did over most of the car ride. He was her best friend, almost her everything at that age. They had been inseparable. The thought never occurred to her that he might..he might still be there. They had lost touch after a few times, he had family troubles as well..she could always remember him telling her about it, trying not to cry. He was mature for a boy his age, they both were. The thought of being able to see him both excited her and scared her. She guessed he wouldn't even remember. With her books and supplies held close to her chest, her violet eyes flitted up. Senior year at a new school, luckily it had barely just started last month. She hadn't missed much. Walking in, she approached the teacher. She was a nice older woman, who understood right away when Isabelle began to sign that she was in fact this new student. They would have her sit in the back, since her hearing was perfectly normal. She put her stuff down on the desk and signed 'thank you' before writing it down on her note pad in neat, curly cursive and showing it to her. As she sat down people began to come in, they noted her, a bit curious, but stayed their distance. Isabelle found herself actually looking to see if he would walk in the door...
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Breathing harshly, she sat in the corner of her Victorian styled chamber. Refusing to move an inch, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold herself back if she did so. Her harvest colored eyes were a darker shade, mixed with just a bit of red. They flashed with anger and seemed wild as she tried to hold herself back. Her lithe body sat on the cold floor, curled up tightly, her knuckles white as Evangeline thought her hunger. This happened every month. A vampire could only refuse blood for so long after all. Human blood was much more satisfying then what she fed on, but she refused to do so. Feeding was sickening to her, and being born a monster of blood was even more so. Her fangs were bared, shining brightly against the glow of the full moon. Every month around this time it happened. Feasting on animal blood only gave her little strength, keeping her confined to her bedroom. It worried her father, but there was nothing he could do to change her. As another flash of blood lust shot through her body she tightened her hold on herself. Each month became harder and harder, and Evangeline could feel herself going wilder and wilder. As her small frame shook, she kept pushing herself. As the moon's light flooded into her room, she could barely hold it any longer. Her body fell into a cold sweat. Her mind screaming at herself to keep control, but it was too late. In a flash her body moved to the window. Almost as if she ere some sort of animal. And soon, she had jumped from her balcony window, high above their castle like mansion, and diving toward the ground.
Her body as weak as it was depended on nothing but adrenaline when it came to her bloodlust. Landing on her two feet, her nose picked up the scent of many, many humans in the city below. "..No.." she cursed at herself to stay away. Far away. She would never drink from a human. Looking like a shadow in only her black nightgown, she was a sudden blur as she took off into the darkness. She usually took the path to just through the city, but tonight she wouldn't be able to do that. She had held off for too long and wouldn't be able to control herself with even a whiff of a human..Knowing one other way, she stopped. Leaning against a tree for support as she thought of the danger. Lycan territory. They guarded the woods just outside the city to the south, Evangeline usually going to the north woods through the city. Though frightened, she knew that she would end up hurting someone innocent if she didn't act. Quickly she changed courses. A black blur racing toward the forest while making nearly no sound. The scent of wolves' filled her nose, almost making her back up, but there were more animals around. As the trees surrounded her, she ran, avoiding trees in sharp twists and turns. Her gown being torn at by sharp branches and thorns. Seeking prey, she waited in the tree, her heightened ears twitching at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. A deer. A buck to be exact. She wondered if it could hear the sound of her harsh breathing, the need of her hunger. Acting, she pounced, landing on her prey, fangs bared as she bit down on the jugular of the poor creature. Her vampiristic magic slowly paralyzing the animal as the warm blood began to drip and pour onto her tongue. The taste was satisfying, and at the same time, she wanted to spit it all out. It was a vile and disgusting way of living. Drinking blood. As the rich blood of the animal began to drain and run down her throat she could feel the burning of her hunger fade. Soon, it was gone, along with the life of the buck.
Sitting there on the ground beside the corpse she stayed motionless, still as she copper taste of blood still nagged at her. Making her sick to her stomach as she thought of what she just done. The horrid red color burning into her memories of that terrible night. She was a killer, her kind were monsters. Breathing in, her entire body shook in fear. Pushing the memories away the best she could as she concentrated on disposing of the animal. Some of her gown was stained in blood as she dragged the animal along, though a bit slower now weakened by mere animal's blood. She found soft ground where she could lay the body, covering it with wild forest flowers. Kneeling beside the floral covered corpse, she felt her body going numb. Tears filling her harvest moon colored eyes and falling to the forest floor as she slowly began to sob. It almost hurt to cry, her body barely able to handle such violent shaking, but she didn't stop herself. Depressed, she continued to cry. Feeling alone..She got up, the distant sound of running water near as she made her way toward it. Beside the small creek, she stared at her reflection, the blood on her lips making her want to splash the image away. Cupping her hands, she drank the water, washing the taste from her mouth and her hands. Her pale cheeks stained with tears when suddenly she smelled it. Lycan.
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A dainty hand slowly brushed against the snout of pegasus. Already she had been here just under two months and the sight of everything still mystified her. Especially the pegasi. Lucky for her (if she was even lucky at all to be here) her 'cabin' sometimes helped out with the majestic creatures. If there weren't some sort of schedule that had to be followed in all of this confusion, she would gladly sit in the stables all day. Not once had she ever even seen a horse, much less a pegasus. When she did had the chance to interact with the beasts, she sometimes didn't believe that they could be tangible. Especially one with such a stunning color. The very first day she was introduced to the stables, she had specifically been drawn to this one. Amethyst had learned he was affectionately named 'Silver Lining." The pegasus' coat was the color of starlight. Not quite the gloomy color of a rain cloud, but the grey that when under the sun, shined like silver. Unlike some of his other stable mates, he was the calmer more collected of the bunch. Maybe it was what drew her to him. The others had startled her with their loud whinnies. Watching the other camper's handle the rowdy few made her nervous. There was more than enough excitement in the camp for her to handle. Even the city hadn't seemed so lively. Then again, perhaps she had been to much of a shut in to notice. Thinking back to her cozy, pastel colored room in her father's little apartment in the city, being a shut in didn't seem so bad anymore. Amethyst twisted her wrist to the side, letting the back of her pointer finger brush against the wet spot between the pegusus' nostrils. The animal's nose wriggled under her touch, a soft grunt coming from Silver. Her hand moved back up to the top of his head where she patted the spot between his ears gently before pulling her hand back. The sound of everyone chattering about lunch and beginning to leave the stable filled her ears. Instead of moving like one of her 'half siblings' invited her, she just shook her head. Staying silent and watching as they all left. Maybe she would follow behind sooner or later. Or maybe she wouldn't. She felt something pull at her ruby locks. "Ah!" She pipped up before turning. Feeling her hair fall out of Silver's mouth. Her eyebrows knitted together and gave the beast a light glare before slowly melting into a smile. A light chuckle snuck past her lips and she gave him one more pat. Someone would find her if she stayed much longer. "Bye boy." She whispered stepping back. Just before she left the stable, she moved back up to his, looking past his long neck and double checking for the millionth time since she arrived at this fantasy camp. Yep. Nothing had changed. Their attached to each side of the horse-like creature was a folded pair of beautiful wings. Just a few times had she seen a pair of the pegasus' wings unfolded. The image was like something that came from the Bible itself. If angels existed as well, she imagined their wings to be just as intricate and beautiful. Letting out some sort of sigh, she verified it for the hundredth time. Pegasus were real. She took one step back, then another, almost resistant to look away. But finally forced herself to turn and leave the stables.
Her stride was slow, almost a saunter. The idea of going to lunch and having to sit in a table full of her 'half siblings' made her feel sick to her stomach. In all honesty. She hadn't accepted any of this. The camp, her 'family', her mother. Anger flared in the pit of her core and she felt her fingers curling into fists. Her siblings spoke of their mother, her mother like she was some sort of goddess. Well. Out of context. A saint, a beautiful and loving woman. Loving was right, but Amethyst wasn't sure if that was the word she would use anymore. After her mother left there was a hole that continued to deepen, and widen. A gap in her heart and her memory. A knowledge she didn't understand. For the longest time she wondered why her mother had to leave her father and her alone. Father had loved her mother more than anything. If he could, he would have made her jewelry for each day they were together. He was her inspiration. His muse. Amethyst was sure her mother had been his everything. And when the two had her. It was just another reason for him to think of her as wonderful. He gave her both companionship and a child. And then in one day, just took one of those things away. What she thought even more despicable was the fact that every year, on her own birthday, her mother would send her fine jewelry as a birthday present. Was that supposed...to make things better? What made it worse. Amethyst treasured those pieces of jewelry. Every one of them, even though she should burn them, or throw them away. It was a dark secret. To want her mother's love, but reject the idea of her mother altogether. When she arrived at Camp Half-Blood, the rejection only grew. She wanted nothing to do with her siblings, her cabin. Any of it. She had no nerve to tell anybody anything. Instead, she wouldn't speak to them. Any of her sisters or brothers. At the end of the day, after they tried so hard to make her feel welcomed and love, she would feel a small pang of guilt. But it would disappear the more she realized the harsh reality of where she was. Of what she was. A life trapped in her tower would have been much better than learning of any of this. It was strange that no matter how much she wanted out, she didn't have the nerve or the courage to go home. She felt lost the more she thought about it. Only some of the daily activities would help take her mind off of things.
Her walk had become nothing but her feet shuffling against the dirt on the ground. Her eyes not even seeing what was in front of her. When reality hit her she could hear the laughter and chatter of the other campers up ahead. Her head tilted up, and in the sun, her eye adjusted. The structures up ahead were the cabins. From a distance her eyes flitted from many of the campers as they ran to go get lunch. Most in groups, some in diverse groups while others stuck with what seemingly looked like their half siblings. For a time until most of the groups disappeared, she just watched. A familiar vibe bringing her back to the times she sat in the city park. Watching different people walk by as she sat on the bench or in the grass. Déjà vu. Many times in her mind she justified that she wasn't a creep. She just, liked seeing people smile, or laugh. Or just talk. Her father sheltered her like some sort of treasure for forever. She had no friends her age, no acquaintances. She never had a best friend, or an enemy, or even a crush. Now here she was surrounded by people close to her age, and she felt more of a stranger than she had in the city. Still, other campers fascinated her. Even more so now that she saw them all in a different light. Each child was the offspring of a god. Unnatural, powerful blood pulsed through each and every one of their veins. And yet, on the outside, they all looked like people she could have encountered if she went to school, or when she walked in the city.
But she didn't feel special. Not when there were more of her mother's offspring right in front of her.
When she reached the dining area she stopped. For the entire time she had been their, every day, she would eat lunch without a word. Sitting at the table beside her siblings. They honestly paid no attention to her during lunch. In fact, it probably seemed like she wasn't there. She was quiet, as well, her appetite wasn't very big until around dinner time. Her eyes quickly scanned over each table. One of her sisters had given her the 'guide' to each table. In a way, she could sort of tell each group just by their exterior. Who their parent was. She wondered if a high school cafeteria was like this, like how the movies or the TVs depicted it. Standing far from any of the tables, her right hand grabbed her left arm anxiously. Skipping out and heading back to the cabin seemed a lot more promising than going another day of just staring at her food and listening to her siblings dish about god, wait, gods know what.
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Her fingers slowly continued to removed the shards of glass from the floor. Even as the Guild Master made light of the situation, she kept her head low, and her body to the floor. Phoenix could feel her face heat up even more at his joke about her. Although he was just trying to make her feel less embarassed, she felt the complete opposite. In the process of paying attention to both the Master's warnings about the festival and picking up the glass, she felt a sharp pain in her pointer finger. With a silent hiss, she brought her finger closer to her face, noticing a small gash in it from the glass. It probably wasn't the best idea to be distracted and picking up glass at the same time. The cut wasn't bad, but dark blood was beginning to drip from the cut. Phoenix brought her finger to her lips and gently sucked at her wound before taking it out of her mouth and continuing to pick up glass. The thought of Tachibana coming down and seeing this made her guilty, the poor woman worked so hard to clean EVERYTHING in the guild top to bottom. Phoenix could clean up this mess, maybe it would be easier if she didn't cut herself in the process. Sighing, she took all the large pieces in her hand and was about to stand up, when she stopped cold. A strong arm had wrapped around her shoulder and she froze completely, not even turning her head to see who it was. But she didn't need to, the voice that spoke near her ear was one of the first voices she had heard when she arrived at Fairy Tail. And the same voice that had just heeded a warning to all the members of the guild. It was the Guild Master. The words he had begun to say made her tense up even more, and she swore she could feel her skin getting hotter. Was he going to tell her to get her act together? It would make the most perfect sense if he did. What sort of good mage just drops a glass of water? What kind of mage had trouble controlling her emotions and her magic? Certainly not a good one. She closed her eyes, bracing for scolding words.
But the words she expected to hear never left his mouth.
Her eyes flew open, and she allowed herself to look at him. And to her surprise, he was looking straight back. He...He had faith in her? Not only her dancing, but her magic? She felt her cheeks heating up. Not from embarrassment, but from the slow feeling of pride making it's way through her body. No words came from her, she just nodded solemnly and let him walk away. Only when he was long out of the room did she speak. "...Thank you, sir." She whispered, feeling extremely flattered and dumbfounded. Phoenix had believed that Guild Master D'eon had forgotten her name the moment after she had first spoken with him. After all, he had never spoken a word to her really after her arrival, and that was months ago! But she was wrong, very wrong. He had faith. He was right however on one thing, she needed to get one hell of a grip. This festival was high alert, and she couldn't let something like her emotions keep her from not being able to protect the town's people and most importantly, her fellow guild members. Despite the distance she kept between her and the others, she cared for them deeply. Many had showed her nothing but kindness when she arrived, but she did not return it. Solitary was all she knew after her rebirth, and she intended it to stay that way. That kindness they showed however, it was not something that would ever be in vain.
Finally she stood up, placing the large shards of glass on the counter. Her finger as still bleeding a bit, but she just wiped it on her other glove. She needed to find a broom, Tachibana would know where one was, but then she would insist on cleaning up the mess Phoenix herself had made. And she wouldn't let Tachibana do that. Sighing, she looked around the counter for a napkin or something to sweep the smaller shards of glass away. That was until a voice called her name. Biting her lip, she turned around to see Mackenzie. He was one of the younger mages of the guild from what she picked up on him. He had a happy-go-lucky attitude that she could admire. If only she could be so carefree. The look on her face however showed the exact opposite of admiration. Her eyebrows furrowed together and an annoyed expression was painted on her face. "....Do I look like the bartender?" She asked seriously, her tone ice cold and nearly monotone. For one thing, she wasn't the bartender. But that wasn't the reason she was acting like this. This, was the persona she put on for everyone. Cold. "Get it yourself." Guilt stabbed her heart, and she really wished she didn't say those things. He had asked so nicely too. Her cold responses had just become gospel for her, automatic. In reality, she was actually scared of getting him some orange juice. After literally boiling the water in her own glass, she could only imagine how hot glass was to the touch of others. What if she heated up his glass? "...I don't have time for this." She huffed under her breath, glaring at Mackenzie. "Just...Watch that glass, okay?" The cold tone in her voice had slipped. And for just a moment, in that phrase had been an ounce of concern. She wondered if Mackenzie had heard it. With that, she went to go look for something to sweep up the rest of the glass.
There had to be a freakin' broom around SOMEWHERE. Maybe in a closet or something. After searching, and searching, and searching, she gave up. Defeated, she sighed. She would have to find Tachibana and just tell her the truth. At least she could just ask for a broom then, although she may have to fight the woman for it. She thought she had heard her voice in the Guild Master's office. Making her way to the office door, she saw it was open. In fact, someone was standing right in the door frame. Stopping behind the figure, she took a deep breath. Here we go. "Excuse me." Phoenix grumbled, crossing her arms and waiting for the figure to turn and look at her. When their eyes met, she almost gasped. His eyes were the color of fire. A burning orange hue she had never seen in someone's eyes before. Only in an open flame. For a solid second, she couldn't find any words to say, and she was sure that he probably noticed her falter. Then, like nothing happened, she was cold again. Crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow, clearly annoyed, or at least that's what she hoped she looked. "...I need to ask Ms. Tachibana something. Think you could let me through instead of blocking the doorway?" Wow, she really did sound like a bitch.
But that was her best defense.
Before he even had a chance to move, she spoke up, hoping her voice would go past him and into Tachibana's ears. "Ms. Tachibana? Could I have a broom please? There was an..um...accident." Phoenix could feel her cheeks heating up again. "I'll clean it up, I just really need a broom....and I don't' want anyone to cut themselves cause I sorta, already did." She had realized she was rambling and shut her mouth, looking down to the ground and waiting for Tachibana to respond. Her eyes however glanced up past her eye lashes, looking back at the man with the fire-like eyes. Was he a guild member? How come she hadn't seen him before? If she ever had, she wouldn't forget him, not with eyes like that.
They were stunning. And that was something coming from a girl who hated fire.
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