09-24-2009, 06:30 PM
[html]
No you aren't. =3 700+ words.
######Nodding silently, Lolita slipped the piece and the lighter back into her bag out of respect for the woman. She was not unhappy that the blue marked female didn't want to share her smoke, not perturbed in the least, as she knew that many did not smoke this particular herb, or even any at all. That was definitely their own choice, and she had no right to even think that they should if they didn't want to. Everyone had to do what they wanted to in their life; it was their right. That was the marvelous thing about life, and death, in her case. Everyone was free to make their own decisions, once their personal demons were gone. Ultimately, she supposed the one she carried with her left when he killed her. Pello surely would never find her again. But, Lolita was very sad about losing Pippa. . . It was tragic. Since her death, Lolita realized, she had become quite a bit more insightful, and she liked that very much. "Az ilyen csodálatos dolog." The words were barely a whisper, even, meant for her own ears.
######Dahlia was the name of this place, then? It was a very interesting name, and she would have been pressed to find another name so elegent sounding. Lovely names mean something to her, of course; not the name itself, but the sound it created. The lovely things in life kept her going in death, even if it truly was annoying to be dead. The woman was very beautiful, she also made note of. She seemed cleaner than Lolita was herself, with her knotted long hair and vibrant colors she'd given herself. Though the blue was not natural, she assumed, it seemed less obvious than her own bright reds. Soon, she would look into more tattoos or dyes for herself. "That is good, then, for I have been very lonely for the past six months," she explained, recalling her earlier thoughts of how long she had been dead. The smoke she had taken in had not done enough to make her forget everything she had been thinking, as she had been interrupted very early on in her toking. It was unfortunate, but not unwelcome, and she could always light up again later on.
######To offer, she really had nothing. Perhaps that was something she should have considered before lounging on the borders as she had been before. An answer to that question would have been something she would have appreciated right then. For a moment, she considered what to say while she stood up to face the woman, a bit more formal than sitting on the ground with her legs crossed as such. She didn't think she really had many skills, except for being able to look out for herself quite well. After all, she had kept her dead body up and moving, hadn't she? "I suppose I can tell stories well, since I have much experience with the world. . . And I'm pretty good at hunting and protecting and all that jazz. . . The normal stuff that everyone surely tells you. There's nothing spectacular about me or what I can do," she admitted, hoping her honesty would be appreciated by the black and blue woman. It was all she could offer. "Oh! I also know a lot about plants and stuff," she said with a bit of excitement, having almost forgot about that. It was certainly true, and probably evident in the fact that she knew what to smoke to feel alive and what would be bad for you to even try to ingest.
######The question came as a surprise to her, and her eyes seemed to convey this without her needing to think of it. Lolita did not see any reason to have to explain it, because there were the obvious problems with the situation. . . And who wanted to be dead, anyway? Shaking her head slightly, she tried to think of a way to answer it in an acceptable way. Maybe this was just a test of some sort. Or maybe there were other dead folks here, too! Normally, everyone thought she was crazy, and she had never met another dead soul trapped in its body. "Well, it's just not right. First of all, aren't you supposed to rest when you're dead? Well, how come I'm not resting. . . My brother killed me six months ago, but I have to keep on going. It really is a hassle, trying to find somewhere to be when you feel so strange. . . Your body feels weird when you're dead." Hopefully, the Dahlian would not be like the others, and would not think she was insane. Really, she was not, but she was annoyed by being dead. She wanted somewhere to call a home of sorts, and that wouldn't happen if the Dahlian thought she was crazy or a potential threat.
Table by Samael Lykoi! [/html]
No you aren't. =3 700+ words.
######Nodding silently, Lolita slipped the piece and the lighter back into her bag out of respect for the woman. She was not unhappy that the blue marked female didn't want to share her smoke, not perturbed in the least, as she knew that many did not smoke this particular herb, or even any at all. That was definitely their own choice, and she had no right to even think that they should if they didn't want to. Everyone had to do what they wanted to in their life; it was their right. That was the marvelous thing about life, and death, in her case. Everyone was free to make their own decisions, once their personal demons were gone. Ultimately, she supposed the one she carried with her left when he killed her. Pello surely would never find her again. But, Lolita was very sad about losing Pippa. . . It was tragic. Since her death, Lolita realized, she had become quite a bit more insightful, and she liked that very much. "Az ilyen csodálatos dolog." The words were barely a whisper, even, meant for her own ears.
######Dahlia was the name of this place, then? It was a very interesting name, and she would have been pressed to find another name so elegent sounding. Lovely names mean something to her, of course; not the name itself, but the sound it created. The lovely things in life kept her going in death, even if it truly was annoying to be dead. The woman was very beautiful, she also made note of. She seemed cleaner than Lolita was herself, with her knotted long hair and vibrant colors she'd given herself. Though the blue was not natural, she assumed, it seemed less obvious than her own bright reds. Soon, she would look into more tattoos or dyes for herself. "That is good, then, for I have been very lonely for the past six months," she explained, recalling her earlier thoughts of how long she had been dead. The smoke she had taken in had not done enough to make her forget everything she had been thinking, as she had been interrupted very early on in her toking. It was unfortunate, but not unwelcome, and she could always light up again later on.
######To offer, she really had nothing. Perhaps that was something she should have considered before lounging on the borders as she had been before. An answer to that question would have been something she would have appreciated right then. For a moment, she considered what to say while she stood up to face the woman, a bit more formal than sitting on the ground with her legs crossed as such. She didn't think she really had many skills, except for being able to look out for herself quite well. After all, she had kept her dead body up and moving, hadn't she? "I suppose I can tell stories well, since I have much experience with the world. . . And I'm pretty good at hunting and protecting and all that jazz. . . The normal stuff that everyone surely tells you. There's nothing spectacular about me or what I can do," she admitted, hoping her honesty would be appreciated by the black and blue woman. It was all she could offer. "Oh! I also know a lot about plants and stuff," she said with a bit of excitement, having almost forgot about that. It was certainly true, and probably evident in the fact that she knew what to smoke to feel alive and what would be bad for you to even try to ingest.
######The question came as a surprise to her, and her eyes seemed to convey this without her needing to think of it. Lolita did not see any reason to have to explain it, because there were the obvious problems with the situation. . . And who wanted to be dead, anyway? Shaking her head slightly, she tried to think of a way to answer it in an acceptable way. Maybe this was just a test of some sort. Or maybe there were other dead folks here, too! Normally, everyone thought she was crazy, and she had never met another dead soul trapped in its body. "Well, it's just not right. First of all, aren't you supposed to rest when you're dead? Well, how come I'm not resting. . . My brother killed me six months ago, but I have to keep on going. It really is a hassle, trying to find somewhere to be when you feel so strange. . . Your body feels weird when you're dead." Hopefully, the Dahlian would not be like the others, and would not think she was insane. Really, she was not, but she was annoyed by being dead. She wanted somewhere to call a home of sorts, and that wouldn't happen if the Dahlian thought she was crazy or a potential threat.