ROSEMARY MARINO
SAILOR NEPTUNE → DORMANT, EIGHTEEN, FIONA[M:0]
SAILOR NEPTUNE
Posts: 22
|
Post by ROSEMARY MARINO on May 9, 2012 0:46:29 GMT -6
The second Rosemary had decided to make the move to New York, she began researching neighborhoods where she would like to live. Upper East Side was much too stuffy for her likes and she was afraid she would get stabbed in Queens. However, when she stumbled upon an advertisement for a comfortable one bedroom in Soho, New York's artistic district, she knew it would be the perfect fit. Upon actually moving in, Rosemary knew her gut instinct was right.
Soho had the casual vibe that she had been looking for with enough of the city to make it a bit edgy. Oh, Rosemary had to deal with her fair share of hipsters, but so long as she try to claim she discovered one of their bands first, she was fairly positive she'd survive. However, as perfect as the apartment was, she had been able to take a limited amount of her things with her and quite frankly, her place was in sore need of some home decor. Luckily, Daddy had given her a credit card for this precise reason and it was about time to develop some interior design chops.
So, Rosemary found herself wandering the streets of Soho, mostly window shopping. The day was a rather nice one for New York, warm but not humid, and Rosemary wore a modest sundress for such an occasion. Her bright blonde hair hung in loose waves around her thin shoulders, gleaming in the sunlight. As she walked from store to store, her movement was very precise and planned, extremely proper, but not without an air of mystery to her. There was a strange haunted look in her large eyes, but with years of practice, she could cover that up in a moment's notice.
A wave of fatigue suddenly washed over Rosie and she stopped walking, bracing her body against a store wall. Her Soho surroundings were replaced by a distant palace, the bright full moon hovering just behind it. A woman stood ten feet away from Rosie and although she could not see the woman's face, she had an air of innocence and the weight of the world on her shoulders. The wind tugged at her floor length gown and tied her hair in knots. Just as she seemed ready to say something, Soho returned. Pale and breathless, Rosie stayed propped against the wall, waiting for the light headed feeling to leave.
* * *
|
|
JADEN KAMPE
JADEITE → ACTIVE, TWENTY-TWO, CAIT[M:0]
JADEITE
Posts: 16
|
Post by JADEN KAMPE on May 9, 2012 1:56:26 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: url('http://i.imgur.com/ajvTt.jpg'); width: 425px;][style=background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 5px; font-size: 12px; color: #cacaca; padding-left: 10px;]but no one else ever can see[/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 7px;][/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 10px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #cacaca; text-align: justify; width: 97px; margin-top: 125px; margin-right: -115px;]tagged;; rosemary
words;; something
notes;; jaden the douche
credits;; template by jetplane of btn[/style] [style=font-family: tahoma; color: #333333; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; margin-right: 110px;]It was peculiar to think that a man such as Jaden himself required artistic stimulation from time to time, but it was a fact as true as the morning sun. Jaden was a photographer who was responsible for many of the spreads seen in various fashion magazines, and was somebody who required bouts of muse every so often. The boy could only take so much of handling women on a daily basis as he did, and it was a mentally draining process that he struggled through when it began to pile up.
It was the days like this when he questioned his choice in profession. The days without parties, people, and fun, instead filled to the brim with work, women, and failed ideas.
When these slumps hit him, and hit him hard they did, he reacted instinctively to recharge himself and get things cleared out of his mind. This slump, not being as severe as many of the ones braved before, he felt only required some alone time in one of the most artistically thriving areas of New York City. So he found himself in Soho, going from store to store, from place to place, from gallery to gallery, and even making a stop at a cafe.
He strolled along, coffee in hand, world balanced, and at peace. The citizens of New York were even so polite as to not rudely bump into him as he walked along the concrete sidewalk. He brought his drink up, ready to gulp down another round of coffee while giving a side glance to the busy street.
It was a rude awakening when he crashed into the slight figure of the girl leaning across the wall, and an even ruder one when coffee slopped over the side of his cup, splashing his skin without mercy.
"For fuck's sake," he hissed. For no particular reason, other than out of anger, he let the cup drop to the ground and spill on the grey surface into a mess of brown liquid. He glared at the girl he had crashed into, and before he could get a word out, he was immediately taken by her pale, shocked expression. Had he done that to her? And not only that, but something was horribly off about her in general to him. He stiffened, not reacting well to his instinctive reactions towards her. "Are you alright?" The question was blurted out, sounding more like a command than anything. While the words were well meaning enough, the tone was not.[/style] |
|
|
ROSEMARY MARINO
SAILOR NEPTUNE → DORMANT, EIGHTEEN, FIONA[M:0]
SAILOR NEPTUNE
Posts: 22
|
Post by ROSEMARY MARINO on May 20, 2012 13:34:31 GMT -6
Rosie had thought she was out of the way from the crowds but apparently she wasn't. This was something she was rudely alerted to when someone slammed into her. Thankfully, she had recovered enough balance to avoid being knocked to the floor, but she was knocked back a couple steps. She turned around to take a look at who it was, an apology in her mouth, but she swallowed her words as soon as she got a look at the guy.
It wasn't that she was intimidated by him. It wasn't even that she recognized him from somewhere, although she did have a faint feeling of deja vu. However, it was that she felt this strange sense of foreboding, like something was off about this blonde man in front of her that caused her to completely forget her manners for the second time since coming to New York. The feeling was nestled in the pit of her stomach and although it was faintly there, she had learned long ago never to brush off her feelings, no matter how faint.
As the color returned to her cheeks, Rosemary remembered that this man, who had done nothing horribly wrong to her yet had asked her if she was alright (even though his question had a ill mannered tone to it). "Oh, I'm quite alright. There was no damage done," she responded, a faint smile on her lips, albeit a forced one.
* * *
|
|