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Thread: secrets of a sky savior -- Lola Maroon

  1. #11
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    The Birdborne had taken a slight hiatus through the months before. Hibernation in the Portugal soceity that her blood ran thick with. She had been satiated with the comfort of family, and the chance to find her thoughts.

    Now, though, the woman with tragedy in her eyes and ferocity on her lips had returned. With a handfull of desires and a mouthful of laughter, she stepped back into the life of being a lover, a friend, and a business woman.

    The domino's had begun their downward spiral, and yet the message was clear:


    <center>Lola Maroon was cured.</center>

    <center>Untitled01</center>

    <font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ February 28, 2005 05:35 AM: Message edited by: chimera factory ]</font>

  2. #12
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    <center>Just when you thought the fairy tale life was in your future... a grim ending comes creeping around the corner.</center>

    <center>aa54</center>

  3. #13
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    In a perfect world, where sanctuary was the buiding blocks of family and love, Lola was in the center. Caring like the maternal matriarch she was born to be, for all those that paraded around her like some dark eyed deity.

    In a perfect world, things would be perfect.

    Unfortunetly, the world wasn't the utopia fairy tales made it seem to be.

    Inside that room that smelled nothing like her old life, she choked on Marlboro Milds and large, full snifters of scotch. Within the new tomb of that room, that had the essence of old paint on the walls and fresh ideas on the floor, she sat on the edge of a bed that wasn't hers. A bed that didn't have the frayed outline of herself, and of the man she consumed herself with. It was here, that she cried such thick rivers of salt from eyes polluted with blackblue confusion.

    Things settled in boxes around her, caging her in with some form of familarity. From pictures, to artifacts. From clothing and trinkets from Portugal. They were all empty though of one thing: Of Raoul.

    Up late in till the sun rose, to sleep when the light was too bright for her emotional bones. Shannon and Bjorn had taken her under their wing, and sanctified her with a security blanket. And yet, it wasn't secure enough.

    Bowser and Sativa had stayed at her side, whimpering when they felt the oncoming of another heart broken storm. Rushing to lap at her fingers when hands were empty of cigarettes or booze. They too, were just as torn as the Birdborne was, in the sudden aftermath of the Italian leaving.

    Locking herself away from the world, for outside it was cruel and a reminder to everything Raoul and herself did. From riding, to watching the stars. Even breathing had some painful aftermath, and caused winces of pain to strike through her blood stream.

    Tonight was no different: She sat, crossed legged, on that bed and was sinking things into a large, cardboard box. These things had her quivering, had her shaking in the deceit of what she was looking at.

    Photo's of Raoul, of Raoul and herself, of silly things like Inca and the pitts. Movie stubs, jewelry, clothing, notes and cards, gifts of all kinds. These things that were attachments to her life with the Italian were being stored away, placed into the darkened cave of what she would consider her memory.

    She was trying to bleed herself dry of the year spent with that man.

    It was such a sudden change that it was destroying her mentally, and physically. She would become sick, throwing up water and bile, alcohol and whatever else resided there when it became too much. Skin was suckling to bones so tight, emaciated in her breakdown.

    Every now and again, Shannon or Bjorn would tap at the door, to hear for life within. The only thing that would be offered back, would be a knock of her own knuckles to the bed post.

    Lola was dying all over again.

    And she was fighting to keep herself alive.

  4. #14
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    <center>He's got fastened black gloves
    Made of clothes splintered charms
    They're the kind that will talk
    through reason of chance

    And I hear him
    Every night
    Every pore
    Every time it just makes me want to
    Breathe without an answer
    Free from all the shame

    And I'll die
    Cause I'll never
    Never sleep alone
    </center>

    <center>1AsiaArgento0029 med</center>

    <center>Look at how they flock themselves
    From an aisle of open sores
    He knows that the taste is such
    Such to die for

    And I hear him
    Every night
    On every street
    It spills out the slither
    Deliver me far

    Breathe without an answer
    Free from all the shame

    And I'll die
    Cause I'll never
    Never sleep alone

    And I hear him
    Every night
    Every street
    It spills out the slither
    Deliver me far

    Breathe without an answer
    Free from all the shame

    And I'll hide
    Cause I'll never
    Never Sleep Alone

    Breathe without an answer
    Free from all the shame

    And I'll die
    Cause I'll never
    Never Sleep Alone
    </center>

    <center>Mars Volta - The Widow </center>

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    The night had been a hectic display of what chemical changes can happen in one's body, when infused with dead blood. A dead heart pulsed no emotions, and for a man like Bjorn Andrews, that was hell.

    Leaving the Lion to wonder into the debris of shadows, Lola had returned to the solitary confinement in that now empty house. The aroma of what was once alive and mythical, was now drowned out by the pain her body was quaking with. Everything from a bruised face, to the pit of her stomach feeling like a thousand knots of tight knit rope.

    As if things could never get worse, they did.

    Worry was a pitt fall of blackblue in her eyes, where melancholy and tragedy used to be, there was hollowness. An empty space where color used to sparkle and dazzle the onlookers with bizarre spirals of violet plumb and catacombs of navy. All night and through the early afternoon, she stationed herself in silence.

    A reverie that wasn't silent at all, when her head was a pounding aftermath of theories and thoughts.

    She had called Sin back, leaving him a false message of hope that she was still alive. That her breathing wasn't as ragged as some might have thought. Knowing why, maybe, the Ravnos had given her a ring.

    It was a ball of drama that surfaced with the Bird and the Belle, and they were in it together.

    Lola was pressuring herself to be strong, to hold up the hopes of Shannon and keep her sane, while all the time keeping herself as circuited into reality as she could.

    This was a time where friendships would truely prove themselves.

  6. #16
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    Time was passing by so slowly. Dripping away in seconds on the tick-tock of her clock. Eyes were adapting themselves to steer clear of watching the digital numbers flash by. It was early into the morning that she realized Shannon or Bjorn still hadn't resurfaced.

    She was sure sooner or later, one of them would stumble in.

    The cause of loneliness shuffled like a deck of cards in her veins, making it hard to steady herself into believing everything was going to end up alright.

    Everything always ended up alright, yet this time was different.

    The phone was gouged out from underneath her pillow. Safe keeping for it, if she fell asleep. The vibration would startle her awake, and each time it did, it wasn't who she wanted it to be.

    Raoul was not calling.

    Numbers were dialed, and the skinny end of the piece of technology was held up against her ear. It was either a blessing, or a traumatic experience, for her to be so vulnerable when she heard her mothers voice on the other end.

    "Hello?"

    "Mama... it's me."

    "Lola, sweetheart. It's late here. What's wrong?"

    Maternal instinct must have kicked in between that receiver and the voice of her mother. Lola squirmed on the bed, producing a cigarette and lighting it until she spoke with grey caping her words.

    "Nothing, mama. I just wanted to call. Say hi. I miss you guys, you know?"

    "Lola, don't be silly. I know something's wrong. I'm your mother, for Gaia's sake. I know these things. Now, stop beating around the bush and just tell me."

    "Raoul left me, mama."

    The way it cracked out was all sobs and whimpers, it was said quick and liberated with the shut of her eyes and the squinting of the tear-ducts. Build up of water surfaced, and she was shaking her head slightly.

    Her mother was quiet for a long moment, pained in hearing her daughter so fragile.

    "I don't believe it."

    "Believe it, mama! He left me! He fucking left me!"

    It wasn't meant to sound in such a screaming fashion, yet it was. She said it so loud, because she was in still disbelief. She needed to hear herself, through all the bouncing pieces of her brain.

    "Oh, Lola... My little bird..."

    "I... I don't know what.. what happened, mama! We.. we were argueing and... and then he was leaving! I don't even know where he is!"

    "Perhaps it's just a break, Lola. I'm sure he'll come back to y--"

    "He's not coming back! I know he's not! It's over... it's over..."

    "This doesn't sound like Raoul, Lola. Are you sure you didn't do something for him to lea--"

    "MOTHER!"

    "Alright, yes. That was a stupid question on my part, Lola. I'm sorry. I know you didn't do anything. But.."

    Thick breaths were pulled into heavy lungs, and she had completely forgotton about the cigarette she adjusted between her fingers. Her mother went silent, as did she. Letting the cement of the facts harden.

    "My little bird... Oh, my little bird. It will be alright, Lola. You are strong. You are a Maroon. You will get through this."

    "Mama... Mama, I don't know this time. This time, it hurts. It hurts more than anything. Anything! I just... I just want it to stop."

    "I know, honey. I know, trust me. But you need to rest, pretty girl. Here, we will come visit you. Your father will want to see you, and I'm sure right now would be a good time for Roman to take over the firm."

    "No... no, I'm fine, mama. I can still run the fi--"

    "No, Lola. No. Working in a stressful enviroment is not going to help you right now. You need to just mend your broken heart, my little bird."

    "I love you, mama."

    It came so sporadic, that for a moment, it shocked her mother into a peaceful moment of quiet time.

    "And you know I love you too, Lola. We all do. Raoul does. And don't you say he doesn't because I know he does."

    "Did, mama. He did love me. Once..."

    "Mm. We will be there in a couple of days, Lola. Where are you staying?"

    "I left the beach house. I'm at Shannon and Bjorns, right now. But... I don't know for how long I'll be here."

    "Alright. We will come down, and help you get a place of your own. Find you something nice, maybe out of the city, hmm?"

    "Yes, mama."

    "Lola?"

    "Yes?"

    "Don't give up hope. You're a survivor, not a failure and not a quitter. You will win this."

    ".... I know."

    Though they both knew that she was lyring. She didn't know, and that's what scared her the most, more than likely.

    Their good bye's were short and brief, yet filled with the over flowing element of emotion.

    <center>shorterturned</center>

  7. #17
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    Much like Dorothy, she wanted to click her heels three times and leave this crazy world of witches and frightening truths -- but her home wasn't a safe haven anymore. It felt more like purgatory, a place where she'd go to sit .. and wait. And wait. Perhaps Bjorn would come home, and perhaps he wouldn't. Her wrist was turning a nice shade of blue and purple and her spine still ached from its meeting with the brick wall the night before, but otherwise she was unharmed, merely tired and soulsick. Slipping into the house silently, she set her keys down on the side table before heading across the small living room towards the stairs. She wanted a shower -- and to crawl into bed and never come out again.

    "Shannon?" Came the croon of the Birdy from the pit of the darkened hallway, where no light was tracing. It was like a black pit that led to her solitary confinement chamber, and yet the house now seemed as dull as her area of living. Pulling out from the lock down of darkness, shed of true color and dawning herself in the black of a night gown. Bruised cheek was somewhat slaughtered in blacks and blues, puffy where Bjorns hand had hit in a heavy display of his temperment last night. Tired and worried, she hadn't slept a single wink of peaceful slumber. Instead, it was turmoil and running rampant nightmares that engorged themselves in her mind.

    She was still in the same clothes from last night, jeans faintly stained with some of the blood-vomit from last night and dirt smears could be seen on the fabric of her cashmere sweater. Weary-eyed like a survivor of a trainwreck, she lifted her head when she heard Lola's voice, and attempted to smile -- but it came out lopsided and forced. "Hey. I -- did I wake you?"

    "No, no. Trust me." Chuckling out of delirium and the fact that sleep sounded funny to her, now. She wrapped the naked expansion of her cool arms around her torso, and crept softly towards the Belle. "You alright, menina?" Surely that was a stupid question, and yet she asked anyways. The forced smile Shannon put on, was replicated by the Bird.

    It was like they were putting on a show for someone who wasn't even there, what with their false smiles and attempts at casual conversation. "Sin wants you to call him," abruptly offered while she paused in the middle of the hallway, awkwardly stuffing hands into her pockets. "Um -- yea, I'm great. Just fucking fantastic." There should have been sarcasm in her voice, but there was only emptiness. "Has -- has um, anyone called?"

    "Oh, I called him back. He... ah. He left me a message." Tapping her fingers along her elbows, as they criss-crossed there. She was stationed to stand, and didn't budge to follow her too closely. They were both shells of themselves, hollowed out with a wooden spoon of grief and confusion. They were supposed to be there for one another, yet how could that work when both were suffering the song of a broken heart, and a head full of trauma. "No, menina... No one's called." Clearing her throat just slightly, and tilting her head to uplift the bruise of her eyes (that matched the bruise of her face) to the Belle. "He... he went back to where it happened. That's what he, ah, told me last night. What he was going to do. He wouldn't... You know, let me go with him."

    "Oh, good." Hollow murmur, and she passed a glance towards the door of the secret room -- the one that should've been a nursery someday. "I need some paint." Thinking out loud mostly. She suddenly wanted to cover the mural in thick white paint, erase all of her dreams until she couldn't even remember they ever existed. "Did he?" This, in some way, confirmed her suspicions and her heart ache so she folded in on herself even more. "I suppose he wants me to pack his things for him too?"

    "What? No!" Lola was shaking her head, violently, coming close to the Belle to capture the woman's shoulders with slender hands. So beautiful were muses of stress, they tested the waters and drowned in their sorrows. Both were so fragile, yet they retained some strong cocoon to give way that they were healthy. "Shannon, no. That's not what he wants to do. He's just confused right now. He needs some time to adjust, and he's scared of hurting you. Physically. He's not leaving you though, menina. That's not it all. Please, please understand. You have to try. He's going to go through a lot of changes, but changing his love for you isn't one of them. He told me last night, alright?"

    "I am fucking trying!" She lashed out -- some inner emotion she had kept bottled up for most of the night suddenly exploding. "Everything is changing -- I fucking get that alright? I get that someone else made him and they'll want to keep him because he's beautiful and pure and good -- and who wouldn't want to bond with him? And I get that I will never get to marry him in a church or have his goddamn baby! I get it." She sank back against the door of the secret room, sliding down to sit on the floor. "I saw his face Lola -- he didn't even say goodbye. Didn't say anything to me. He won't come back. He doesn't need me anymore." And once again, she was crying. The saltwater burned her eyes and she curled in on herself.

    The lash of Shannon's tongue was unsuspected, and it startled the Bird to hear such vulgarity and venom push from the Belle's mouth. Eyes widened, and a step back was taken when the woman fell to the floor. Lost herself, she didn't feel like she could hold Shannon up if she could barely keep herself on the thin line of sanity. Catching a hand upwards, drifting it through the wild tangles of feathers and nightshade. A moment of silence to pass, for all of Shannon's words to sink into her bones and make her knees weak. Even her petite form was heavy in it's gaunt expression. "I....." She had nothing. She had no comfort, no words, no touch. Nothing. No, she didn't have nothing. She had everything to offer, such as out stretched arms and the croons of a midnight muse. Tilting downwards, to crouch near Shannon, she bundled the woman against her chest and shifted her mouth to murmer at the top of Shannon's crown. "Shh, menina. It's going to be alright, ok? You... you have to be strong for this, please? For me? For Bjorn? For yourself, if no one else, Shannon. Please... please don't let go, or... or else I'm just as hopeless as you are."

    Shannon's sanity had been unraveling since this whole thing started and now the gaps in the threads were starting to show. She was breaking apart and was too tired to even try and collect the pieces, to one day try and re-assemble the puzzle. "All I wanted was for us to be happy," she confessed in heartbroken tones while melting against Lola, allowing the woman to comfort her this time. Later, she would apologize for the wild tempest of her emotions -- the vulgarity and sharp anger (a temper she rarely ever showed), but for now, all she could do was sob and curl fingers about the fabric of Lola's nightgown, using it as an anchor to keep from drowning in the undertoe of her grief. "Why did someone have to take that from us? I don't -- I can't."

    "Shh. Shh." It was all Lola could say, though her actions spoke louder. A hand lifted, drifting like a piece of affection across the top of the woman's head. Chaste kisses were angel dipped and smudged in ash when they trailed along Shannon's crown. If anyone understood, it would be Lola. She had been suffering her own dramatics, with the sharp object of her heart beginning it's sprout of razorwire and luke warm pulses. Raoul had abandoned her, and now this? The turmoil was too much for even the strong, stubborn, and at times fierce, Birdborne. Legendary in her matriach status, a miracle when it came to maternal tidal waves. Lola was beginning to feel the true obsession of it all, and her own tears were unknown as they slid down her bruised cheeks and startled her into murmering. "It's not lost, menina. It's not. There is still hope, pretty girl. You just have to keep your chin up, please." Because if Shannon crumbled, surely, Lola would soon follow suit.

    She suddenly understood what it must be like to live in a desert, the vast emptiness seemed to sting her soul and make every hour seem to go on forever. Her grief was still very sharp, but she pulled herself back from the edge of the cliff -- unwilling to take that plunge and lose her sanity completely. "Right." Murmured while she worked on quieting her sobs, wiping away tears and bottling up all of her emotions. She didn't really believe Lola, but that seemed like the right thing to say. "Of course -- you're right." Leaning back carefully, she wiped at her cheeks while looking to the side. "If he .. if he does come back, please don't tell him about this." About her sorrow, her breakdown. Bjorn had enough to deal with, after all.


    "I won't." And Lola wouldn't. There was no reason too, especially when the Lion probably already knew. The unanswered questions they both had were things that were up in the air, and as high as they reached for them, they would never get what they wanted. Bleeding away from Shannon, she tucked hair and feathers behind her ears and wrapped arms around her knees. She didn't bother wiping away the tears, as they were a signal that she too, was still alive and not fully numb, yet. "We'll figure this out, menina. Come on, it's us. We always figure it out. We're the belle's of the world, after all." She tried to altar a smile, to be more like a soft curved, humor tainted grin.

    "Right." She did her best to offer a smile in response to Lola's and a hand snaked up to grasp the doorknob above her head and open the door. She pushed it as far open as it would go while turning her head to study the parts of the mural she could see from her spot on the floor. "I should paint over this -- he shouldn't have to be bothered by it."


    "Don't you dare, Shannon Maguire." The full name was pulled out, as if the big guns would work in shooing away that idea. She tilted her head slightly, to glance through the room and to the mural. "If you do, I swear, I won't be your friend anymore." Empty threat, really, though she wiped at her face finally, cleaning away the salt rivers from her expression of ghostly proportions. "I think it's beautiful, and if you get rid of it, you'll only be sorry in the end."

    "But it wasn't for me -- or him. It was for something that won't ever be now." Her hand left the doorknob and she simply stared at the mural, a frown tightening the lines of her mouth. She did not, however, go to get any paint so perhaps she was taking Lola's threat seriously. "What am I supposed to do now, Lola?"

    "Breathe." Because that's what Lola was centering in on. She was putting all her attention to just breathing, to just keeping herself alive as long as possible. It would all end, hopefully, the hurt and the strain. Gaia only knew what was in her body, though, growing as the spoke. She was reaching and finding a pack of cigarettes that had fallen from her hands, lighting one up and surely, offering one out to the Belle. "Just breathe." And don't fall, because if you do, I will be there shortly after.

    She accepted the cigarette without a second thought. "I suppose I don't need to worry about harming anything anymore." She could drink alcohol again and stop taking those awful pills, it seemed. There was no point in worrying about any of it, anymore. A lean forward had her using Lola's lighter to light up the cigarette, free hand lifting to scratch at her scalp while she smirked. "Breathe, wait. I don't know how long I can do that, Lola." Not if she was sure she was waiting for him to simply return to gather his things. "I should call Saycu .. see if he'll run the gallery for me." Because she certainly wasn't in the right mindset to work.

    "Ha! You and me both, sister soldier. Breathing even seems to hurt, right?" Shaking her head, hissing out the whirl wind of grey from her mouth. She was trying to surround herself in toxins, to help ease all the hurt that was building up inside. Chuckling, though it was maniacle in it's chime, rather than sweet tempered. "Might be a good idea, just for a little while, till you get back on your feet. My... my family is coming into town, to check on me. I told them what happened, and for now, Roman is going to be running the firm here. My father thinks it best." And so did Lola, as she couldn't even drag herself outside to suffocate in cases anymore. She would be a horrible representation for the firm.

    "It's agony." Breathing, waiting. It made her want to do something drastic, just to keep from doing nothing. She ashed on the floor, since there wasn't an ashtray nearby, before returning the cigarette to her mouth and letting the toxins fill her body. "He'll want something from me. Saycu never does anyone any favors." Her smile was slightly amused, and she nodded. "It'll be good to have your family here, hm?"

    "Mmm. Maybe." To the family part. She ashed in the palm of her empty hand, rather than the floor, and quirked her brows towards Shannon. "What if we went away for the weekend, menina? Took a trip, somewhere, anywhere, just ... far from here?" Again, Lola felt the same drastic encouragement. She wanted to run away, or fly away, and tuck herself underneath the webbing of nothing but stars and blackness. She knew it was a bad idea, seeing as what was going on in each others lives. Though then again, Lola was edging on that tide of lunacy.

    She was tempted; you could see it in the way she stilled and her gaze grew distant for a moment. "I can't," she said while slumping back against the doorframe. "He might need be -- I have to be here for him. I have to try."

    Lola nodded, actually preferring her answer to anything else. It caused a soft smile to bloom across her mouth. "Understandable." A pain shot through her stomach, and she frowned her brows for a moment. A hand laying to rest along her lower abdomen, as cigarette dangled between her lips.

    "Did he tell you what happened?" Skipping back abruptly to a previous topic, though a brow lifted when she saw the frown pinch Lola's mouth into an unhappy line. "Somethin' wrong?"

    "No, he didn't tell me anything. I don't... I don't think he remembers." Murmering softly, as her hand rubbed along her abdomen. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment, before pulling the cigarette from her mouth and pushing out lines of grey. "Just stress, I think. Been a little nauseous lately." She was sure Shannon would understand, as the Belle's stomach was probably just as tied up as hers.

    She nodded. "Sin said he would try and find out who ... his Sire is." She would need to know who she is up against, who might be competing with her for Bjorn. "Mm, I understand completely. My stomach's in knots, it's probably from all that awful coffee I sucked down last night." She finished off her cigarette, stretching back some so that she could try to toss the filter into the trash can in the room behind her.

    "I'll go with Sin." Lola was convinced that whoever had Sired Bjorn, surely, needed a good whack in the face with her hand. She wanted to introduce Bjorn's Sire into a world where Shannon and Lola were swimming: Dense and confusiong, painful and full of what if's and should haves. Shifting again, she pinched out the cherry to her cigarette with naked fingers, and hardly winced at the burn. "We'll be ok, Shannon." Assuring herself, and the Belle. Or atleast, trying.

    "Is it wrong that I want to hurt whoever it was that did it?" In truth, the possessiveness that lingered under her skin was sharpening claws and begging for the chance to tear into the one who would dare try to change Bjorn. "I know, we're always okay, Lola. That's our gift. It's him I'm worried about."

    "No, it's not wrong. I want to her whoever did it, too." She let a menacing smirk rise along the thin blooming of her mouth. Startled by it for a moment, and yet, not. She shrugged back the taut lines of her shoulders, and carefully chose her words. "Of course we're always alright. And don't be worried about him, menina. Bjorn is strong. He'll be alright."

    "I'm going to worry until he's home. That's what love is, you know?" Being afraid for your love, wanting to take care of them. She hesitated for a moment, a hint of uncertainty furrowing her brows. "I think I'll sleep in here tonight," pointing to the spare room behind her. "I can't sleep in that bed by myself." The sheets smell like him and that would only cause her to cry again.

    "Alright, menina. If... If you need anything, you know where I will be." Right down the hall. In her own cage of tears and sorrow, anger and regret. Pulling to her feet, guiding her steps towards that door. Lola dissapeared into the room like a ghost that didn't belong anywhere but there, and quietly shut the door behind her.

    <center>(Taken from live play between Painted Facades & The Birdborne)</center>

    <font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ March 02, 2005 07:38 PM: Message edited by: chimera factory ]</font>

  8. #18
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    Page from Lola's journal:

    Everyone is telling me that I will be alright. That I will survive this. Everyone is looking out for my health by inserting random theories that Raoul wasn't good enough for me, anyways. That I shouldn't be wasting my tears on him.

    These everyone's are my family and friends.

    Mesteno tells me to keep my chin up.

    Shannon told me that we are always alright in the end.

    Sin has mentioned that regaurdless of what happens, I still have a nice set of tits.

    Paige and Rick offer me their sympathy in the form of family sorry's.

    Jake offered to take Raoul "out" for me, if I was hurt that bad. I of course said no, if you are wondering.

    My immediate family dissaproves of Raoul just up and leaving, and yet they believe he will come back.

    I wish I could believe the same thing.

    So, I am going to try and be strong through this. Walk tall and remember exactly who I am.

    Lola Evangeline Maroon, the worlds favorite Tengu.

    ... I would have given Raoul the world, though.


    <center>bova</center>

    <center>Picture taken of Lola and Raoul in Portugal.</center>

    <font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ March 03, 2005 06:09 PM: Message edited by: chimera factory ]</font>

  9. #19
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    Lola was eyeing the gate that her family would be pulling out of, with surely enough luggage to cloth all of Ethiopia. Her nails were being bitten, a child hood habit that was suddenly engrossed in her full fledged woman status.

    When people began pouring through the small portal door, she was on her tip-toes, bouncing to try and catch the sight of her blood family. Sunk in eyes and pale skin, she was a shell of her past physique in such an emaciated form. Regaurdless, there was something about seeing her family that brought a spark to those dull black eyes, enough to see that somewhere, deep down, she was still alive.

    "Mama!" shouted the Birdborne, as she spotted the extremely petite woman, followed by a tall, older looking man and two other males.

    "Lola!"

    It was a crisp and clear hymn of her whole family, shouting her name with their different croons.

    Her mother was short, a five nothing height. Though agile and thin, aged with grey feathers and hair amoungst all the brownish plumage. Lola swept her up first, an embrace long over due for how she was feeling. The tears in both womens eyes weren't shocking to the men. Emotional Maroon women.

    Her father was a tall, strapping older man. A goatee and stubble along his firm, rigid set face. He chuckled thickly, wrapping his Little Bird into a hug to put all other fathers to shame.

    And then her brothers were in swing. Julian, the youngest of the males, was of average height and build. He had youthful features, and bright green eyes as he swept his sister up, and twirled her around. They spared each other words, instead, just embraced. That is, until Roman was breaking them up and sweeping the petite Birdborne into his bulked arms. Roman was the epitome of handsome, forbiddan almost in his dark heritage and dark, dark eyes.

    "Are you alright, Lola?"

    "Roman, shh. Leave your sister alone." said Mama Maroon, as she leaned near her husband and looked apon her brood with a dazzling smile.

    "It's alright, Mama. Yes, I'm better now." Answering, and pulling Roman and Julian around her sides to smush her between them.

    The Maroon family was as close as they came, when family matters were put to the test.

    "Let's get all your luggage. I'm sure Shannon would love to meet you all."

    "Is she the Belle you're always talking about?" Julian asked, some type of twitch in his brow and a keen smile.

    Lola scoffed, pinching his arm.

    "Yes, and she's engaged, Julian. So no funny business. And be nice." As if Lola had to warn her brothers to be nice.

    "Matteo stayed in Portugal, to watch over the Firm for me." Her father always had a commanding voice, yet it always softened when he spoke to his only daughter.

    "Understandable." Nodding, Lola was leading them all to the conveyer belt that was trailing luggage along.

    And then it was so loud around the Maroon family, that people were actually moving away! This is what happens, when you get a Portuguese family in a small area, after not seeing one another for awhile.

    Perhaps this was exactly what the Birdborne needed.

  10. #20
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    Lola had strayed outside during the early evening. The stars were brilliant in the crisp air, where the cool breeze brought a chill up the spine and through out the finger tips. She was taking some alone time, while her family had raided Shannon and Bjorns to the point where there was racket all around at most time during the day. Though now, now was her time.

    She sat in the backyard, gliding finger tips down the bridge of Sativa's nose. She was always Lola's dog, her protective female pit who never strayed too far. Bowser of course, was the same, but he was more silly in his prime. Laying on his back on the patio and snoring semi-loudly.

    Wrapped in a thick angora blanket, drifting smoke from her mouth and every so often grinning at how Sativa would chase after her fingers.

    It hadn't been long since Raoul had taken leave, and yet she was feeling the mending begin. Trying to assure herself that it wasn't her, though him. Her self esteem had dropped substantially, and she was regaining it back by staring in that mirror during the early mornings, and murmering softly to herself that she was in fact, a great catch.

    Though, of course, the questions still remained.

    What did I do to make him leave?

    "What're you doing, little bird?"

    Roman's voice was always commanding yet subtle. It had some odd wilt to it that gave his baritone accents some thick charm. It was dominance and care, precision and something animalistic that made up Roman's vocal chords. He strode out from the back door, bunching thick arms around his chest and smiling towards his younger sister.

    Lola perked her brows, somewhat surprised when he came to check on her. Though then again, she was more surprised it wasn't the whole troupe, rather than just Roman.

    "Oh, just thinking. What're you doing?"

    "Checking up on my little sister, that's what."

    Roman pulled a chair close to Lola's, and took a seat. She admired her brother with a tilt of her head, amazed for a moment at a flashback of when they were just young fledglings.

    Roman, with his shortened hair of black that had some blue tints to it's shine in the sun. Roman, who had hard earned features chisled from some Portuguese myth. And Roman, with eyes that mirrored Lola's own: Vibrance of oil and peacock feathers.

    "I'm fine, irmao. Really."

    "I know you are, Lola. But sometimes talking about something can help more than just brooding about it."

    Roman leaned foreward, scratching behind Sativa's ears. His focus bending behind lids to focus on Lola's face.

    "Mmm, and finally the brotherly instinct sets in." Chuckling as she pulled the cigarette up for a drag. Offering it out to her brother, while speaking more.

    "I just don't understand why he left, Roman. I mean, was I not good enough for him? Did I do something to drive him away? I ... I just wish I could find out where he is, you know? To .. just ask."

    Her brother took an enhale of that cigarette, stroking a finger down his bottom lip as he listened before offering his advice.

    "Lola, men are fickle creatures. I know, because I am one. Sometimes we need to loose what we love the most, to realize just how much they meant to us. And sometimes it's just a matter of finding ourselves, irma." He paused, cocking a brow up with a tell tale grin. "And sometimes, just sometimes, it's because we're the stupidest mother fuckers to have ever been born, and we should be crucified for our moronic behavior when it comes to beautiful women."

    "Shut up." Clucked Lola, laughing softly while reaching grabby fingers for her cigarette.

    "Lola, don't give up hope. All of us know how bad you wanted a family with Raoul. Even with him gone, doesn't mean you won't have that, either. It just might not be with him."

    Sometimes, Roman surprised Lola with his caring admissions such as this. Just when she thought she couldn't cry anymore, a few tears bled from her eyes and were quickly brushed away.

    "You think so? Well. Perhaps I'm just not looking hard enough then? You know, seeing as how Rhy'din is just chalk full of single, good looking, well off, straight men."

    Scoffing at that, her sarcasm heavy in it's exposure. Roman let out a hearty laugh, shifting an elbow to an arm rest and cupping his palm to his cheek.

    "You'll be happy one day, Lola. You're destined to be. You're a Maroon. It's fate that you've gone through so much, little bird. It only means in the end, you'll be much stronger. Gaia will repay you for your sacrifices, Lola."

    "I know, Roman. Now, stop sounding like mom and dad, and tell me how Angeline is doing."

    Lola regained her composure, and then was startled by the news that her brother and his soon to be ex-wife, were no longer together.

    And for some morbid reason, she found that comforting to know she wasn't the only Maroon having relationship problems.

    <font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ March 06, 2005 04:59 AM: Message edited by: chimera factory ]</font>

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