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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 1:23 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 1:35 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 2:04 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 3:12 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 3:25 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 4:06 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 21, 2011 11:30 pm
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XXXXXXXXXXXX× × x x x x x x x x seele marston
❝What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? ❞
Vixandra started going off about someone named Mira. Apparently that's who the phone call had been about, not from. She was sickly, perhaps? Seele moved along with the two young woman absent-mindedly as they exited the building. Vixandra was explaining something or other yet again, ever the tour guide, which Seele would appreciate if she were actually paying attention. Sometimes that head-in-the-clouds look was Seele actually daydreaming and not always an act. In this particular case she was gawking something fierce at the intertwined hands of the two young woman. She was thinking rather deeply, to be perfectly honest. She didn't care where they ate, whether it be Dario's or whatever, because she was too focused on being their third wheel. She didn't even notice a taxi pull up next to them or where she was exactly.
The only thing that snapped her back from her reverie was Anja asking her about her German descent. "German, Dutch, and Swedish, actually," she replied, her vivid blue eyes moving to the brunette, torn away finally from their clasped hands. Seele had never held hands with anyone other than her mother, and couldn't help but to suddenly bring her small digits to her face and inspect them before talking any further on the subject of heritage. "I remember hearing something about one of my grandparents being from Holland, on my father's side. Marston was a surname taken when they immigrated. Stolen, really, from some rich, English tobacconist." With that she lowered her hands and waited for the two women to lead on.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 6:41 am
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 7:53 am
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 8:31 am
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:09 am
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:46 am
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Ashika Dresden
-"Is this your son Sir?" The officer asked as he pulled back the white sheet on the body.
The man covered his mouth and tured pale from shock. "Yeah... That's... Oh, god... Rafel..." He whispered as tears ran down his face.
A nine year old Ashika clung to her father's hand, staring at her older brothers' cold body. "Daddy, why isn't Raffy moving? And where's Mommy? Mommy can kiss his owies and make him all better, right?"
Brian leaned down and held his daughter close to him, the tears uncontained and full of heartache. "No, Buddy. Mommy can't kiss him and make him better. He's gone. He's not comming back."
She held him as she tried to understand, whispering softly, "But Daddy, Raffy's right here. He's not gone anywhere. Maybe my kisses will make his owies better." She offered and started to pull away from him.
He tightened his grip on his child and cried harder, "No, Ash, he's dead. His owies are only on his body, but he's not in his body anymore. He's not hurting, okay? He's fine now, there aren't anymore owies that can hurt him where he is." He tried to explain.
She felt the cold knowledge seep into her young mind and smiled softly at her father, "Well Daddy, if he can't get anymore owies, then why are you crying? Men don't cry, remember? He's not gonna be hurt again, so we shouldn't cry." She said with a grin, even though her heart was shattering.-
The room began to fade away and she sat up in her bed slowly, her throat one big hurt and tears running down her face. Dammit... Why do I have these stupid dreams?
{If you really knew the darkness of my heart, would ouy even want to know me?}
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