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F / The BatCave
Posted 1/30/13 , edited 2/3/13
It's raining...and it's cold. There's a light sadness in the small town of ChesterBerry. I well known resident has finally passed away in her sleep. An old woman in her eighty's just known or referred to as Rose. She was very active in her church and in her community. Everyone loved Rose, but none loved her more than her sweet grand children Penelope and May. They were orphaned and were passed from family to family until they we're taken in by rose. The children have never been so happy, that is until Rose's untimely death, which of course has lead to her funeral. Its raining still during the ceremony. The first people to show were her grandchildren, since the cemetery was walking distance from their home. No one else in the family was there, but a few people from town, a group of people from church, and their neighbors. It was a small town so it was obvious that it would be a small funeral to. May was crying, which was understandable given her age; everyone around them was crying too. Her older sister Penelope on the other hand had been through her share of funerals. She loved her granny but she was used to death and thought there wasn't any point to crying over it. Of course that's what she wanted people to think. Soon one by one the people vanished, even May, and only Penelope was left. She sat in the grass but didn't get wet, in fact no one had gotten wet by the rain, or had any umbrellas or warmer cloths on. She stared at the ground and finally began to cry now that everyone was gone. A voice broke the silence, "When are you going to quit this miserable dream of yours Penelope?" There was a bright flash which blinded Penelope and caused the rain to disperse. Penelope silently looked up to see a small black cat sitting on top of her grandmothers tombstone. "You do realize I hate the rain right?" It hissed unhappily. "Besides she died weeks ago." He added.
"Come off it." Penelope sighed standing back up.
"It wasn't your first funeral either, Haven't I've already taught you that death can sometimes be a good thing? Do we need to have this lesson again? I will gladly take back your ears and teach you over again."
"No no, it's fine...."
"You say that but still cry in your dreams. Which causes it to rain. Did you forget that I reside with in this realm and that I hate the rain?"
"Your so picky."
"As are you. I don't like living in the rain. Come up with something or re-education will be in order." There was a loud whistle in the background. "Its for the best that you move on Penelope, for her."
Another whistle resembling that of a trains.
"I'm not patient."
"I know, It should stop raining soon..."
"I'm always here too...."
"Yes, but your never comforting." Penelope says lightly with a chuckle.
The cat scoffed as everything began to fade to white.
"Yes, you'd rather I be a gross dog? Disgusting!"
Penelope laughed before everything went white and she could no longer hear her Fera, her spirit animal. She could hear real things. The chugging of the wheels, the train's whistle which was blown for a third time, coughing from the man in the seats farther up in the train, a baby crying, she didn't care which one, and that familiar beeping of a certain someone's hand held game. Penelope's eyes fluttered open and she groaned. It was daytime now, and the train's passengers were noisy again. She slowly sat up in her seat and readjusted her seat so it wasn't tilted back anymore. "What time is it...." she groans groggily looking over to her sister with squinted yellow eyes. "Never mind." she waved her hand as to dismiss her question but May would probably answer anyways. Penelope scrambled to get her bag and take out a small hand-mirror that was cracked at the edge. She looked into it and started to fix her messy black hair with a brush, which she also found with in her bag while she looked for the mirror.
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23 / F / In my head.
Posted 2/3/13 , edited 2/7/13
_"Five-thirty-six... er," May replied then stopped, forgetting of the game in her small hands. She placed one over her mouth and watched quietly as Penelope pulled out a mirror and brush. May was younger than Penelope by four years, with the same hair cut above her tiny shoulders except less stylized and naturally curving inward. Her hair was a dark, leafy brunette and her eyes were an orange-ish brown. She was tiny compared to her sister, and simpler in looks, her dress more of a polite existence than a statement of beauty. She watched with a flattering and understandable envy as Penelope brushed her hair back in place. One day, she knew, by taking care of herself she too would perhaps be that pretty.
_Being closer to the window, May could look out and see how far they were along their journey. She saw trees and grass rushing past, one or two travelers going the opposite way and a few wild-life creatures scurrying about. She heard a faint sound of disappointment come her hands, and she looked down to see she had allowed too many blocks to stack up. They had touched their virtual ceiling and the screen of her game flashed "Game Over." Sitting back correctly in her seat, she glanced at her sister, turning off her game. She readjusted the ribbon on the right side of her head, noticing it was looser than the left. The trees and grass began to give way to civilization, and the train began to slow down to a small building, the station. Seeing her big sister was still groggy from her nap, she stated, "We get off at the stop after this one~"

_Within the city they headed towards was a drug store. The gentleman at the counter watched wearily was his only costumer browsed the over-the-counter pills in the back of the store. He drummed his fingers against the smooth surface impatiently as he waited for her to make her decision. Her face was hidden hauntingly behind a homemade scarf and hat, which, like her jacket, were sloppily made of different fabrics as if the sewer had not meant for it to be worn. Her hair was safely tucked in, and the only patch of skin that could be seen was that around her purplish eyes. She finally picked up a bottle then approached the counter, placing it down and taking out money from her pocket. The cashier eyed her, waiting to be handed the money after scanning the pills for her. The lonely bottle totaled an amount not for the lower-class. He doubted she had the money. She raised her forehead at the amount without surprise then asked in a thick, succulent Russian accent, "Tell me... Vat is your opinion on zee Beastias...?"
_"I have a grave problem with them," he replied darkly, hiding his hand beneath the counter. Raising his arms slowly up again, he asked, "Just where are you from, maim?"
_"I am from a little place called Russia..."
_"Never heard of it."
_"Of course not," she hummed politely. "It isn't vat it vonce vas. It is now small and heavily divided vithin itself. No von vill help it, and it vants no help. At least... zee vich* don't. And zey control it now... so..."
_"So you have a problem with those with money...?" the cashier interrupted, ending the transaction on the cash register. "I want you out of my store... N-" He lifted a rifle from underneath the counter, cocked and began to aim to have it and himself shoved to the ground. He looked at the barrel of the gun to find something had scratched across the metal. He looked up to see the woman's face now revealed, the scarf and the hat now gone. The head of a raccoon now sat on her shoulders, large and hideous as it stared down at him, daring him to get up or to move. She then jumped over the counter, snatching the pills in her teeth as she did and left the store. As she raced down the street, people screamed and moved out of the way. When she reached the corner, a bullet whistled by her ear and she dropped to all fours. Her arms and legs turned into human proportional raccoon arms. Clawing, clicking, and scrapping across the asphalt, she continued running and the cashier pursued her.
_He was able to gather help and bullets soon rained down upon her. She made too sharp of a turn and crashed into a piled of crates a fruit stand had finished unpacking. It cushioned her hit against the brick wall and she scrambled back onto all fours to run again. The barrage of bullets briefly quickened, leaving her with a few scraps. Ignoring them, she ran around people on the sidewalk and managed to lose the angry store-keepers. She had to keep running, however, as every where she looked, people shouted and pointed at her, screaming profanities and shame her way, claiming her a monstrosity and crime against God. Not wanting to have guards coming after her, she dove into an alley, feeling strangely at home with the garbage and gaining privacy. She opened her mouth full of small sharp teeth and allowed them to suck back into her gums, replaced by flat human teeth. The fur on her face crawled back into her skin, and her ears, muzzle, and eyes shrunk back to normal. Her hair, naturally dirty and blonde, had remained the entire time, wavy and above her shoulders.
_She then peeled off her ugly and poorly made jacket to reveal one much more beautiful. A dusty pink with black fuzz, which she kept open now to let the breeze hit against her black shirt and pants. She slipped a fuzzy black hat on her head and replaced the emptiness in her pocket with the pills she had stolen. She breathed heavily for a moment, then prepared herself to blend in once more with the city's crowd.

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23 / F
Posted 2/3/13 , edited 2/12/13
HUMAN She was at work once again. Not that she really had a choice. Safia didn't have anyone to care for her. Working was the only way she was able to stay at the inn. Her parents, well, they were who knows where doing who knows what. She hadn't seen them since she was a child. Safia often wondered where her parents were, but knowing she could do nothing about it, she moved on with life. Having to work kept her mind away from those topics though.
She walked to the front desk in the building she worked and smiled at the female receptionist. "Anything for me today?" She asked politely, knowing there would be. "Yes ma'am. Another for the Hemming house" The receptionist said with a smirk. She knew how much Safia disliked going there. With a sigh Safia grabbed the package off the receptionist's desk and thanked her. "Don't let the boy flirt with you too much!" the receptionist added with a wink. Safia laughed and shook her head as she walked out the door.She had always been told she was pretty, but she just felt average. Her long brown hair, with bangs scattered across her face was far from extraordinary. She always thought the most unique thing about her was her turquoise eyes. They weren't blue, yet not quite green either. She always separated her bangs to show them off. Being poor, she couldn't afford much for clothing either, so she just had a simple pair of jeans and a striped long sleeved shirt.She always had on her red scarf too. It was the only thing she had left of her parents.
Safia walked to the car that she used to deliver packages and got inside, placing the one she needed to deliver on the passenger seat.After buckling in, she turned on the car and started heading to the Hemming house. As she turned a corner she heard bullets being fired. Slowing to a crawl she continued down the street. Then she saw someone take a corner too sharp and crash into the fruit stand, spilling their empty crates all over the street. The person didn't even stop to pick it up! They just kept running down the street. (That was weird).. Safia thought to herself. Avoiding the fruit crates as best she could, she continued down the road until she came to the Hemming house. With a sigh she got out of the car and grabbed the package. She walked up to the door and knocked yelling "Delivery!" as she did so. All she could do now was wait for someone to answer.

FISHY The water was cool around her. The ocean was comfortable on her skin as she floated along with no energy left to do anything else. Circe had swam a long way, too long for her to know exactly how far away she was from her favourite pond. She frowned at this thought. Her parents had been captured at her pond and she almost was too, until her parents held them off, allowing her to make a break for it. That's why she had no energy now. She swam as fast as she could and didn't look back. Sighing she looked down at herself. She could only imagine how she looked. Circe's long light blue hair, with a slight green tint, was knotted and attacked her face wherever it could. Her deep blue dress, the only thing left of her mother's, was drenched and some of the bows on her arms had come untied. Luckily though, all of it was intact. It would just take a good scrubbing to get it back to its rightful position. Eventually, she saw the shore and paddled to greet it. Barely being able to crawl, she managed to pull her self onto the shore, high enough so the tide wouldn't pull her back out. That's all she managed to do before she passed out. At least, that was mainly how she got here. Circe shook her head and attempted to refocus on the plans she was looking over. The rebellion was planning a new mission and she had to make sure she knew what was needed of her. Methodically going over the plans, she eventually nodded off, falling asleep over the plans.
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23 / F / In my head.
Posted 2/8/13 , edited 2/8/13
_She walked quickly, with purpose and determination back to her shelter. Strangers passed by without so much as a glance her way this time, and she appreciated her temporary invisibility among society. It definitely wouldn’t last long, but she and her little bird would soon be leaving. Then it hit her, like a sharp pain in her side, shocking and, for a moment, nearly unbearable; she wouldn’t be able to move with her little bird so sickly. As she continued her gentle and brisk stride, she took out the bottle of pills and looked over them, having trouble reading most of the English. The only word she needed to understand, even if only by the shape it and its letters took, was the name in large letters, wrapping professionally across the front of the bottle. She let out a loud sigh and replaced the medicine in her coat’s pocket.
_Her mind, occupied and worried, was interrupted again by the sharp pain; however, it wasn’t a horrible realization, it was a genuine wound she had received from the angry shopkeeper. She paused on the sidewalk, placing her hand lightly inside her coat and against her waist. The bullet had grazed a bit deeper in her flesh than she would have liked, and it had made a mandible hole in her good coat. Groaning in irritation, she fastened the buttons and made a turn at the street’s corner. Her footsteps took two of someone in a hurry, and she basically slammed herself against the door of an older looking apartment. Her hands fiddled with the doorknob, turning into a pair of thin, long paws with claws she used to unlock the door with ease. She nonchalantly looked up and down the small neighborhood before opening the door and entering.
_Inside she was greeted from afar by the violent coughing of her little bird, whom had recently turned sixteen and was now a young, childish teenage boy. He was a darling boy with large pinkish red irises behind lenses and bright red hair. His body was slender but fit, swimming in a light burgundy hoodie that his guardian and cousin of blood, Jekaterina, had stitched for him. She shut the door behind herself and listened to his coughing uncomfortably for a brief second in the living room. It was empty and ugly, grey but clean due to Jekat’s touch, just like the rest of the apartment, she saw to that. The only things that laid about were their few personal belongings, a small mat to sleep on, a pot and pan to cook with, an extra outfit to wear while their usual attired was washed, and Jekat’s purse. Her purse was a reasonable size for what it contained: a small sewing kit, a small first aid kit, a wallet with a survivable amount of money, a few immortal and delicious snacks, and an unknown object wrapped in a torn piece of cloth. It sat where she had left it that morning.
_She rushed into the kitchen, her purse sitting safely upon the counter of the barely functioning kitchen. The stove worked only because it could handle an open flame, which her little bird stood hunched over with a tied mask covering his nose and mouth. He skillfully flipped the two eggs within the cooking pan he held without the aid of a spatula. He heard the thudding of Jekat’s flat boots upon the tile floor and turned to her with smiling eyes, “Mama!” He moved the pan off the flame and smothered it out before it could cause any trouble. Gesturing at the eggs, he stated, “You didn’t have breakfast this morning. I figured I’d make you lunch with what we had left.”
_“Oh… Fyodor,” Jekat exclaimed lovingly. “You are so t-oughtful, but vat of yourself? Vat vill you eat?”
_His smile faltered slightly, showing a bit of weariness, admitting, “I’m not feeling well enough to eat. I just had some juice before you got here.” He could see the worry coming through Jekat’s calm expression. “I’ll eat later, Mama, after we move.”
_“Move?” Jekat could feel her injury burn. She paused as Fyodor had a coughing fit. She patted his back as she said firmly, “No, ve vill not move, ve vill not go anywhere until you are better. Here, take dese.” She stuffed her hand into her pocket and pulled out the bottle of pills she had stolen, holding them up to his chest.
_He took them with gratitude but argued, “But, Mama! We never stay anywhere more than three days. Not in a city!” He coughed heavily then lowered his voice to one more appropriate. “People will get suspicious with us two going in and out of this abandoned home. Please, Mama, I don’t want us to stay here because of me. I’ll do better now that I have these” He held up the pills. “Let’s keep moving.” Jekat stared intently into Fyodor’s eyes, inhaling loudly as she searched him. Sighing in defeat, she nodded in agreement and waved her hand.
_“You are right,” she mumbled. She watched him pulled down the mask and take a few of the pills as instructed. “Ve should always keep moving! But, only across town dis time! You may have dese now, but dey take time! I know dis!” She walked over to the stove and picked up the cooking pan. Pointing it at Fyodor, she ordered, “Now go get your dings before I change mind!”
_“Yes, Mama!” Fyodor replied respectfully before leaving. Placing her hand on the bullet hole of her coat, Jekat followed with her head as her little bird left to get his belongings together. Turning away with a sort of remorse, she lifted the pan higher to her face as it slowly transformed into that of a raccoon’s. She swallowed the eggs whole, chewing sloppily as she dropped the pan into the sink. Her long muzzles shrank back into human lips, and her fur once again buried into her skin. She took a bucket full of water from the floor and poured it into the pan, planning to wash it. As she reached for the pan, she felt the sharp pain dance around her entire waist, and she decided would have to do something about it in order to function properly. Something broken couldn’t work, so she slipped her coat off quickly and lifted her shirt. Her bra was square and unrevealing, as if it were made for jogging in, but it did its job as an undergarment.
_She used some of the unused water to clean out her wound. She then opened her purse, digging through it knowingly and took out a roll of bandages. She gingerly yet carelessly wrapped it around herself before using a safety pin to secure it tightly around her waist and stomach. As Fyodor walked in, she had finished and was pulling her coat back on. Acknowledged of his ignorance to her injury by his lack of response, she returned to washing the cooking pan with care, drying it off as if it were an infant in a towel in her arms, then arranged it in her backpack with her clothes, the mat, and the good pot. She tossed her backpack onto her back then the purse onto her shoulder. Fyodor scurried around the apartment, checking each room twice before they headed off. They needed to make sure they left nothing behind that would hint at their staying there.
_As they headed for the door, Fyodor had one last coughing fit in the apartment. He sounded as if he couldn’t breathe, but he reassured Jekat that he was fine. She squeezed his shoulders tenderly, “Ve vreally do not have to move today…”
_“Mama, I’m okay!” he insisted, clearing his throat. “I don’t want to stay here. I want to keep moving! One day… I want to get out of this country! We can’t do that if we get caught. I don’t want to risk it.” He stared up into her shapely eyes, pleading, “Please, Mama!” The pain in her side was muffled by her concern for him; all that mattered to her was that he was safe and happy. She bit her lower lip, fixing his hair a bit and checking the straps of his backpack. Sucking in her cheeks, she made her final decision at last.
_“All vright, my little bird,” she held his head, brushing back some hair from his pretty face. She forced the old apartment’s door open with her shoulder and good hip, nodding to the outside world. “Let us continue our journey elsewhere.” Grinning broadly behind his mask and glasses, Fyodor thanked Jekat and walked out. As they walked down the street, she told him, “I love you, my little bird…”
_His eyebrows arched together, and he wrapped his arm around hers and said, “I love you, too, Mama…” As they walked in search of a new home, no one questioned their presence, assuming they were mother and son planning to travel. Perhaps the son simply had a cold, instead of Chronic Bronchitis, and he wore the mask because his mother was just too overprotective of her son. She was young and naïve, of course, she worried too much about things that didn’t matter and was ignorant of what she should keep an eye on, they thought. They didn’t notice the bullet hole in her coat, and they didn’t know of her fresh wound, or of his condition, or of their being cousins, or anything of their story. Well, actually, that wasn’t true…
_They could tell how much they loved and cared for one another and, no matter how ignorant or naïve, they would do anything for each other…
_“Just across town…”
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F / The BatCave
Posted 3/22/13 , edited 3/23/13
Meanwhile Back on the train.....

"Thank goodness!" I can't stand being on this insufferable contraption any longer! Ugh sleeping in these seats are tiresome for the body no doubt..." Penelope complained lightly to her younger sister. "So which carry on were you playing? Was it the one with the boxes and shapes? I'm surprised those things lasted through the Great War, or even work after so long. Hm, maybe they'll have more in the city? I think they're really interesting, you like them right? Maybe there will be more in the city. I'll get you a new one for your birthday after I get the money. Speaking of the city, we should find a job that'll house us as well or anywhere to sleep first." Penelope decided as she stuffed her things back in her pocket bag. "I'm hoping we'll find a nice place..."

Back at the Hemming house...

The door was slightly ajar as if someone was about to leave but was abruptly stopped. There was also a pocket bag that can be seen in the small crevice. There was furious shouting coming from behind the door and it sounded as if the maids were in a fuss.
"Young master please calm down!"
"I REFUSE! Get your filthy hands off me!"
"If you go they'll arrest you for sure!"
"I DON'T care! Encampment would be no different than this house!"
"The Master and Mistress only want whats best for you young master, please!"
"....hahaha, best for me! BEST FOR ME! The USED me!! Now I'm blind with white hair and your telling me that they want what's BEST for me!? Hahahahahaha! It's so funny!"
"Master please! You wont

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