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Post by Your Mom~ on Nov 10, 2009 13:59:48 GMT -8
After school was usually a time held for sports practices and detention. Ophelia had landed herself a detention because the freshman she'd strung up in the girl's bathroom had squealed...(Stupid freshie...) The three o'clock bell rang, Ophelia tapped her fingers on the desk in an irritated fashion, her other hand propping up her head like she was going to fall asleep of boredom.
Today's detention teacher was in his 60's at the very least, with an overgrown white moustache and an overactive bladder. Every 15 minutes to a half hour he was excusing himself to the men's room. By the second time he did this, a flash of an idea came to the girl, and the corners of her mouth turned upward. Old man came back and settled into his desk with his newspaper, bright ice blue eyes glanced around the room. Three windows, the nearest one was at her 2 o'clock. The detention room was situated on the second floor...not too bad.
Right as clockwork, the old man coughed, grunted, and wobbled to his feet to excuse himself once again. Once the door closed, Phi climbed to her feet, sliding her backpack over both shoulders. She took the hoodie from a snoozing skater boy and walk over to the window. She pushed up on the glass, knocking out the screen in a swift motion from her elbow. Leaning out of the window, she looked down to the grass below. She tied the sleeve of the hoodie to the window sill, tugging on it hard before letting the rest of the shirt fall out the window.
It was now or never, the dark haired girl stepped up onto the ledge, crouching and grabbing hold of the hoodie. She stepped off the ledge, balancing her feet against the wall, and her weight on the impromptu 'rope'. She stepped down as far as she could, sliding down until she reached the end of the other sleeve. Looking down, she let go and free fell a few feet, crouching catlike as she hit the ground to absorb most of the shock.
Straightening her legs, she brushed off her hands, a satisfied look on her face. Mission accomplished.
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Post by Arthur Ð on Nov 11, 2009 1:25:06 GMT -8
Arthur stood by the wall, around the side of the school. His back turned to the world as maggots crawled across his burnt flesh. His hands rested against the wall, as if he were expecting to get searched though there was little under his longcoat. From above, he might've blended into the scenery, as the cloud of flies flew around in a daze around Arthur. Though at the sounds of an impact they retreated briefly.
Arthurs head turned, slowly, to stare at what, or rather who made the impact. His lipless mouth spread into a demented smile, as he reached up to flick a maggot away as it got a little close to his nasal cavity. The odd fly began to fly towards the young girl, just trying to land on her, as Arthur slowly turned the rest of him. His eyes carefully evaluating her. No word was uttered from his lips, as he stood there. Though occaisionally, the rotting skull at his side would jerk with a sudden spike of movement but little else.
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Post by Your Mom~ on Nov 11, 2009 18:13:01 GMT -8
The smell reached her before the fly did. Burnt, festering...nauseating. Gwen pressed her lips closed, scrunching her nose in disgust. It was then that the fly caught her attention, buzzing lazily over to her. She batted it away with a turquoise manicured hand, glancing up at the direction that the fly came from...
...and suddenly got the feeling she was in some sort of zombie movie.
Blink.
[What the fuck!?]
Phi froze for a moment, ice blue eyes staring at...at...what was supposedly a human. She would have thought it was dead except for the face that his head kept twitching. Slowly, she took a step back, and then another. Perhaps if she moved slowly, she could get away from it (and the stench) without any problem.
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Post by Arthur Ð on Nov 12, 2009 3:11:27 GMT -8
((I was going to say Arthur doesn't stink but then again he has a rotting skull at his side which would stink))
Arthur began to laugh, his voice hollow, lacking of emotion, something he had been practicing but on top of that there was a slight deep echo to his voice as the reintergrated aspects of his voice modulator kicked in. And right after he did so, he would bow, the cloud of flies swarming behind the female, blocking her exit lest she wished to try flying through a swarm of insects.
"Dear. Maiden. Your. Entrance. Was. Most. Unexpected." Arthurs voice began, a slight note of enthusiasm was hinted at but drowned out by the echo. He straightened his form and extended a gloved hand. "Might. I. Enquire. By. What. Fate. You. Flee.?" He queried, his tone once again deadened.
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Post by Your Mom~ on Nov 12, 2009 7:00:43 GMT -8
When the whatever-it-is laughed, or, made some sort of guttural sound, it made her skin crawl. It was probably the first time since getting here that Ophelia actually felt the least bit uncomfortable. When he bowed, they were surrounded by a ring of flies. Really. Gross.
"Dear. Maiden. Your. Entrance. Was. Most. Unexpected."
[Translation: Way to drop outta nowhere, bitch.]
He didn't talk like a normal student, what with using the words 'maiden,' 'entrance,' and 'most unexpected,' it was like he was from some posh 19th century Emily Bronte novel. ...But then again, if he was a zombie, he just might be.
"Might. I. Enquire. By. What. Fate. You. Flee.?"
Phi looked down at his extended hand, though her own hand made no indication of moving. You think she's going to touch Mister-19th-Century when he had a whole army of flies around him? Ick, think again. The girl frowned, her ice blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they rose from his outstretched hand to his 'face.' She kept his hand in her peripheral vision though, in case he were to try to reach out and grab her.
"Detention."
She replied shortly, deciding to take 'fate you flee' in a manner of why she was outside the school, not why she was trying to get away from him. Her gaze darted to the cloud of insects, noting that they were rather consistently surrounding them, no visual gaps, before looking back to him. On the outside she seemed rather relaxed and indifferent except for the slight tensing of her shoulders, but on the inside she was calculating. Calculating.
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Post by Arthur Ð on Nov 12, 2009 7:06:32 GMT -8
The cold laughter resonated again from Arthurs throat, his hand retreating back to his form. He stopped much more suddenly this time, as his head tilted, considering for a moment.
"Then. Surely. That. Would. Make. You. A. Lady. Of. Broken. Promises." Arthur spoke back, his words evenly spaced and dead. He took a step towards the female, the cloud of insects staying where they were to restrict her ability to escape. Though as Arthur got closer, the rotting skull hanging off the side of Arthurs chain began to yap again, just moving its jaw. Though right next to it on the chain, the cylinder containing a stillborn babe, began to move. It was subtle, its eyes opened and stared at the woman from its position inside the preservative filled jar.
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Post by Your Mom~ on Nov 12, 2009 10:20:55 GMT -8
Again, as the boy laughed, Phi felt her skin crawl, and she shivered slightly, though her expression didn't change. A lady of broken promises, huh? generally, Phi would thank him for the compliment, though in this case she was a bit more reserved with her usual snark.
The skull's movement flickered in her peripheral vision and she flicked her gaze down briefly, though there seemed to be no strings...how was it moving?
Alright, cut. Cut.
"I never made a promise to stay in detention."
She sneered. What was he, some sort of hallway patrol? He was some fucked up hall monitor if she ever saw one.
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Post by Arthur Ð on Nov 12, 2009 14:51:40 GMT -8
As if on cue once again, Arthur broke out into a laugh before he took another step towards her.
"You. Attend. This. School. You. By. Admission. Promise. To. Obey. Yet. You. Do. Not." Arthur responded. "Still. It. Is. Of. Little. Matter. What. Would. Matter. Now. Is. Where. You. Would. Flee. To." Arthur continued in his deadened voice. By this time Arthur would be very close to the woman, and the babe would begin to slowly claw against the glass, as if trying to reach out for her, as the rotting skull kept up its movement. The flies moved closer to the woman as well, some of them even began to try landing on her.
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Post by Your Mom~ on Nov 27, 2009 15:38:29 GMT -8
"One.."
Phi began, her ice blue eyes narrowing in an unamused fashion. Who the hell was this guy and why did he think he could just boss her around? No one bossed Ophelia around, accused her of anything, or worst yet, told her she was running away from something.
"I made no such promise. School is a joke. Two.."
She glanced at the things at his waist, freakish, disgusting. Easily explained as some sort of joke, a trick. Nasty.
"I'm not fleeing, and to think that is completely absurd. I'm simply taking my leave. And thirdly,"
She flicked one of the flies that landed on her shoulder, glaring at him.
"Keep your flies to yourself."
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Post by Arthur Ð on Nov 29, 2009 3:11:56 GMT -8
"A. Joke. If. You. Can. Tell. What. Is. One. Then. Please. Oh. Lady. Jester. Perform. For. Me. Please. I. Shall. Even. Create. You. A. Stage." Arthur delightfully stepped back, the flies swarming around flying rapidly. Expanding the amount of room she had, some joined Arthur in forming an audiance, the others began to mock stage hand work buzzing around behind the woman. Arthur, despite his ghoulish appearence, began to imitate a young child gawking at the performers at a circus, the stillborn child at his side following his actions precisely.
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Post by Your Mom~ on Dec 10, 2009 22:19:47 GMT -8
Jester? Perform? Pah, like she was some little marionette to put on a show for him! [In this dreams! time to blow this popsicle stand..] The senior narrowed her eyes at his antics, pleased that the nasty flies had backed off a bit.
"Tch, as if. Go order some Pay Per View."
And at this, Ophelia Lachlan spit at his feet.
She turned from him, deciding to take her chances pushing through the stupid flies. Because what were they anyway? Little blops of goop held together with a paper thin exoskeleton. On swing from a fly swatter and, oops, nice knowing ya. She swatted away at them, narrowing her eyes to protect them from kamikaze germ carriers as she battled through them.
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Post by Arthur Ð on Dec 13, 2009 6:22:24 GMT -8
"If. A. Ticket. Of. Admission. Is. Required. For. A. Show. I. Shall. Gladly. Provide." Arthur responded, his fist tightening, and whilst he didn't close the distance the flies parted quickly. His fist extended forward and despite the fact that it wouldn't connect, a blast of concentrated energy was released. Arcing forward, rapidly to the truant girls backside, Arthurs face became serious. Staring at her, as if he was trying to peel away her flesh to target her soul.
((Shockwave Strength: 84, Remaining Strength: 42))
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Post by Your Mom~ on Dec 14, 2009 13:16:08 GMT -8
A force hit her in the back, knocking her to the ground. It didn't feel like an impact from physical contact, but either way it made her faceplant, her hands raising to try and lessen some of the impact with the merciless ground.
"Oof...ugh."
Phi rolled to her back, lifting her legs before swinging down with force and arching her back to launch herself back to her feet. Facing him, she narrowed her eyes, muscles tensing as she tightened her hands into fists.
"If you're looking for cheap entertainment, look elsewhere, asshole."
She spit at his feet. No one treated her like some little side show to gawk at and throw peanuts. This guy was really starting to get on her nerves..
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Post by Arthur Ð on Dec 17, 2009 3:27:47 GMT -8
"Why. Must. I. Pay. For. Admission. When. I. Am. The. Side. Show.?" Arthur questioned back. His teeth could clearly be seen gritted from between his lipless mouth. "But. You. Have. Not. had. The. Stamp. Of. Admission. Yet. Come. Little. One. I. Will. Gladly. Stamp. Your. Hand." Arthur continued on, his mouth then turning into a smile once more. Something darker was behind it though, darker than the other times. A charge began to increase in his body, discharge flickered on and his body being a living lightning rod. He would begin to slowly approach the girl.
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