[M] drug sniffin' dog.
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05-30-2010, 03:23 AM
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06-07-2010, 03:49 PM
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Sorry for the delay, dahling! ♥ 300+ words. WotD: Fathom. The flamboyant woman stood, leaning against the building with a joint held between her lips. Her hair was pushed over one shoulder, small tangles evident in it, as was common for the Monroe woman. She had never been able to fathom why some luperci were so focused on their appearances, because it was something she certainly did not care about. Lolita looked natural, feral, with the exception of the branded tattoo and the fiery hair. The tattoo was there because she'd been branded in death, of course—her hair was dyed for the pure enjoyment of seeing the contrast against her pale, cream-colored fur, as well as to bring out the bright, jade eyes in her face. With the exception of keeping her hair vibrantly dyed, however, Lolita did not care or bother with her appearance. It hardly mattered. Miss Monroe glanced up, almost startled by the strange boy's presence. Lolita had not realized there was anyone there with her, but she gave him a quick scan. Something was very vaguely familiar about him, but she shrugged it off. There was nothing obvious that sprang to mind, so it did not seem worth dwelling on. "Crimson Dreams? Hmmm," she drawled, considering it. The only member of that pack she'd ever met had been Kansas, and he had told her a bit about it, as well as she had been able to pick up information in passing. She tried to think back to the day she had met Kansas, trying to remember which direction her had come from that day. She pointed southwest, a half-hearted gesture. "I thiiiink it's that way. I know there's another pack down there, too, but the one you're looking for is led by a woman," she said. "Why? Something important there?" she inquired, curiousity piqued. He was not from around here. .lolitaloveflower b {font-weight:bold; color:#251221; letter-spacing:1px; } .lolitaloveflowerooc {font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;; font-size:11px; color:#251221; text-align:right;} .lolitaloveflower p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .lolitaloveflower {margin:0 auto; width:400px; background-color:#917287; background-image:url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v313/ ... flower.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #251221; padding: 220px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif; font-size:12px; color:#D6B3C0; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html]
06-18-2010, 08:36 PM
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06-30-2010, 01:54 AM
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This thread makes me giddy, and I have no concept of replying in order after coming off a like... month-long absence, anyway. xD 300+ The boy before her was young, though not much younger than herself, technically. Lolita had died when she was eleven months old, and forever she would stay that young. Of course, she would not tell anyone this. Most seemed to assume she was older, and therefore treated her as such. She assumed it was likely that they would take an adult seriously about being dead, rather than an eleven-month-old pup. It was hardly worth explaining the discrepency in her age and her time on earth, as well. Lolita just considered it easier to pretend, like everything else seemed to be in her strange and bizarre afterlife. The creamy colored Dahlian lifted the joint off of her lips for a moment, though she shrugged in acceptance. She did not know anyone in Crimson Dreams other than Kansas, so there was hardly any point in questioning who it was that he was looking for. She certainly would not be able to help him in that respect. It also was none of her business, both the person that he sought and the message he was meant to deliver. "Would I know your mother? There's something... I guess you just remind me of someone," she mused. She doubted it was his mother; the scent would be stronger, wouldn't it? Unless, of course, she only knew his mother in passing. Still though, it was something she couldn't quite put a finger on. She placed the joint between her lips thoughtfully, inhaling deeply. Once again, she removed the rolled piece from between her lips. "Lolita Monroe," she breathed, the smoke practically pouring from her mouth with the words. "Pleasure to meet you, Barrett," she said, and it was. This was a rare good mood for Lolita. "And this broken city is Halifax. I live over in Dahlia de Mai, but I have a house here, as well, to escape to. A friend of mine had a place out here, too, but I haven't seen him in a while, and I'm sure there are other souls around, as well." Lolita considered Anselm close enough to being a friend to label him as such, though she hadn't seen him since the end of the war when he had helped her to understand that it had not been personal. Everything had been because of Haku. .lolitaloveflower b {font-weight:bold; color:#251221; letter-spacing:1px; } .lolitaloveflowerooc {font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;; font-size:11px; color:#251221; text-align:right;} .lolitaloveflower p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .lolitaloveflower {margin:0 auto; width:400px; background-color:#917287; background-image:url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v313/ ... flower.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #251221; padding: 220px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif; font-size:12px; color:#D6B3C0; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] |