|
Post by corsemeier on Jun 24, 2007 16:06:08 GMT -5
Corsemeier walked down the concrete path that had been so carefully laid a few weeks before. He was dressed in an all gray outfit, that consisted of a shirt, being connected to the pants. His collar was pulled up over his neck, and his heavy necklaces were seen. The tightest one shone against his light colored skin. The next longest one and last one he wore, a silver chain with a large silver cross hanging on it. His grandmother gave it to him, for his birthday last year. Around his wrists, handcuffs were seen. They were not some like he got arrested, no, they were separate and he wore them as bracelets. On his hands were gloves, a light tannish color they were, with bits of darker spots where he'd gotten them dirty. In one hand he carried a shovel and in the other he carried a large black bag that was full of plant trimmings.
He smirked as he thought about yesterday when two kids were laughing at him because he was planting flowers in a central part of the park. He'd seen one of the kids later, looking for the other that had laughed at him too. He had been carrying a shovel and a big black bag that was pretty heavy. The kid had asked him if he'd seen him friend, and he simply said that the little freak had been bugging him, and the kid looked at the bag and the look of horror that came across that boy's face... it was too funny. Corsemeier wished he would have had a camera for that one. A perfect picture it would have been.
He walked through the park quietly, his long black and red hair hanging down against his light colored skin. Dark eyes were turned toward the ground. He hated this job, he really did, but considering other things he could do, it had good hours, because it was whenever he had free time, and it was only for 2 and a half hours of his free time every other day. So it wasn't a bad job, but he really didn't like it at all. He picked up trash around the park, and worked in people's gardens... He trimmed trees and a cut plants for them to be able to grow fresh. If he thought about it though, he got paid well enough for such an easy job. Bleh, whatever. He still didn't like it.
|
|
|
Post by Gomory Rose on Jun 24, 2007 17:00:39 GMT -5
Gomory was walking through the park trying to get Phoenix used to the outside and being around people. "Why do you have to be so mean?" She gave a look at Phoenix as she pulled at Gomorys' hair. She sighed, "Atleast you're not attacking people." Phoenix let go and got out of Gomorys arms and attempted to walk over to Corsemeier. Gomory kept her eye on her because she didn't know where she was going but she knew that nothing bad happend around here so she was pretty trustworthy of whatever she was walking to, probably a flower.
|
|
|
Post by corsemeier on Jun 24, 2007 17:37:12 GMT -5
Corsemeier paid no mind to the girl as he walked. He hoisted the bag up a little bit, so it didn't drag. His hand rested on his shoulder as he held the edges tightly in his gloved hand so the bag didn't slip and continued to walk quietly, minding his own business. He then lifted it up as he got to a small black pick up truck. He raised the bag up to set it down on the tailgate, and tied it. Then pushed it into the back of the truck. He set the shovel in there as well and grabbed a medium sized box. It was full of yellow roses that he was supposed to plant. He picked up the box and held it in his left arm as he grabbed a trowel and a bag of blue fertilizer.
He shut the tailgate of the truck and turned to see the one called Phoenix heading toward him. A small smirk crossed over his light colored features. Dark brown eyes looked up to see another watching her with the sharpest eyes. He'd heard the older of the two questioning why one was so mean, and then say that at least she wasn't attacking people... A little weird, but he wasn't bothered by that in the least.
|
|
|
Post by Gomory Rose on Jun 24, 2007 17:41:44 GMT -5
Gomory walked up behind Phoenix and scooped her up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for her to follow you. I thought she was walking to go look a flower or some other plant." She smiled at him. "I've never seen you around here, are you new?" She figured she might as well try to have a conversation with someone. Since she didn't get out much anymore. Phoenix on the other hand didn't want to be held and squirmed trying to pull Gomorys' hair again.
|
|
|
Post by corsemeier on Jun 24, 2007 18:21:26 GMT -5
The girl known as Gomory walked up and picked up Phoenix. She began speaking by starting with an apology. She said that she hadn't meant for Phoenix to follow him. she then started to explain that she thought she was heading to look at a flowers or something of the sort. Corsemeier was nothing like a flower. If any sort of plant he was just simply moss. It went through life mostly unnoticed, and wasn't commonly talked about. The plant remained out of the way in most situations, and that, perfectly described Corsemeier. It was only talked about if it was deadly or something that mankind should watch out for.
She then asked if he was new. Well, there are two parts to that question. Was he new to the city, or new to whatever? He wasn't new to the city at all. He'd moved here four years ago after he failed his freshman year back in New York. His mother thought that was the perfect time to pack up and start a new life. So they packed their stuff, crammed in to the car and drove halfway across the country to live with his father's parents. Woop-de-fucking-do. Living with these guys was like living in a prison. He wasn't allowed out without permission and he only ate when he was told to. If he didn't eat, he went the rest of the day without food. He was told how to dress and when he didn't dress right a fight broke out. He was always fighting with these two. Sure they were old, but that man put down a beating when he was mad. Corsemeier had gotten beat down a few times, which was rather embarrassing cause that meant he lost to an old man... That was something that he wouldn't ever tell anyone.
These four years that he has lived here, he spent mainly in a private school because he was dealing with a drinking problem and his grandparents thought it would do him some good if they shipped him away to go to a well disciplined school. It was disciplined alright. Now they shipped him back here to finish off his last year in high school, hopefully. If he didn't flunk it like he did his freshman year. They had said now that he needs to be with kids that are normal and not schooled with high discipline. He's been clean for 2 and a half months, and his grandfather said if he ever dares to come home with even the littlest of alcohol on his breath. He'd be beaten.
It was rough knowing that and on top of all of that, AA was telling him to get a hobby or a job or something to keep his mind off drinking. that's how he wound up with this job. they said he needed something to keep his mind busy and look at that! His grandfather had an open without him even asking... The old man knew he'd get something good out of Corsemeier, he'd even said so himself in a backroom conversation with his wife and with Corsemeier's mother.... "Kind of and kind of not. I've been here for four years." he said, his New York accent really showing through. He'd lived there all his life and past family had come directly from France, which only added it. His pace was slow encase she still wanted to talk, but he had to finish working. He had to plant all these roses and he'd be done for the day. He did kind of like the girl's company, but if she wanted to leave then he'd finish and go home like he was supposed to, which he didn't really want. "By the way, my name is Corsemeier." he spoke again, the accent being clear as he looked back at her.
|
|
|
Post by Gomory Rose on Jun 24, 2007 19:22:51 GMT -5
"Corsemeier?" Gomory rasied an eyebrow. "I have never heard of a name like that before. I'm Gomory." Phoenix looked at Corsemeier, "And this is Phoenix." Gomory put Phoenix on the ground and held her hand so she didn't go anywhere. "Four years you say? I guess I thought you were new because I never saw you around school when I went there."
|
|
|
Post by corsemeier on Jun 24, 2007 20:09:39 GMT -5
"Corsemeier is my last name. My first name is actually Chadrick, or just Chad. I prefer Corsemeier though." he said and listened to her own name. He'd never heard that one either, and that must have been her first name. Most people prefer their first names over their last, or at least he'd met more people that introduce themselves by their first name, most people like nicknames. No one ever gave Corsemeier a nickname and he preferred it that way. Nicknames were usually dumb, or came with bad experiences. He'd been called many different names, but none of which were good. "Gomory and Phoenix, not very common either."
"Yeah, a common mistake. I was sent to a private school for some discipline reasons. My grandparents and my mother thought it better for me." he spoke, his accent allowing the words to sound stronger in some areas, more then others. His accent was strong, each member of his father's side had it, and deeper down the lines of his mother's had it as well. He'd wished for a British accent though, that was awesome. No one recognized New York for the accent. Most of it came from the mobsters, their large group developed in New York and their accents carried. "Ahh I see, good reason I suppose. I'm technically done with school, but I failed my freshman year back at my old school in New York, so I'm finishing this year, and moving far, far away for college."
|
|
|
Post by Gomory Rose on Jun 24, 2007 20:40:54 GMT -5
Gomory laughed as she thought about her name for a second, "I believe my parents named me after a demon or something. Atleast that's what they've told me for over 18 years. Phoenix is named so because her dad, Syn, liked the name." She smiled and looked down at Phoenix then back up to Corsemeier. "Oh, I went to the public school. Until I landed pregnant and was forced into homeschooling."
|
|
|
Post by Samantha "Rizzo" Booker on Jul 1, 2007 17:14:44 GMT -5
One, two, three. Rizzo counted in her head, looking down from a tree she'd climbed up. She'd had a good reason behind climbing the tree... there was a cat stuck up there. This part of town wasn't good for stray animals, and Rizzo being the cat lover, couldn't help but climb her skinny white butt up the strunk to grab the scared kitten. The cat, no more than a few months old, was grey with thin white stripes.
"Shh," she said, the kitten clawing at her bare shoulders. "Shh."
She winced in pain, feeling the blood trickling down her arm. The cat was just afraid, she kept telling herself. Just a scared baby, wanting nothing more than to get out of the tree. And Samantha was there to give that cat freedom... and a home. There was no way she would let that poor cat run around in the park without somebody to care for her.
Inhaling, she jumped down, landing swiftly on her feet. The cat meowed loudly, digging its claws deeper into her skin, but she ignored the pain. She hated heights, and vowed never to do that again. "Now shut up," she growled at the cat, her accent ever so thick when she was angry and in pain. "Shh--Gomory?" She said to herself, looking at her old friend in the distance.
It'd been a while since she'd seen her. Ever since... the accident, she hadn't been around her friend very much.
Time to reaquaint herself.
She strode swiftly across the grass, keeping the cat planted against her chest. Her shoulder was still bleeding, but she paid it no mind. The cat, now not so far up, was purring away like all cats do. They cause trouble, then they pretend to be happy. Great.
"Gomory?" She asked, forcing a smile. Her friend was talking to a guy she knew, and her daughter was close. She'd never seen the daughter.
|
|
|
Post by Gomory Rose on Jul 4, 2007 0:08:26 GMT -5
Gomory turned around and looked at Rizzo. "Rizzo?" She saw the cat and Rizzos' arm. "I don't think someone likes being touched." Phoenix looked up at the cat confused.
|
|
|
Post by corsemeier on Jul 8, 2007 23:36:38 GMT -5
"A demon? Interesting something to name a child after, and Phoenix, a pretty cool name as well." he said, just to add something into the conversation. A pretty meaningless comment all in all. It was something that he said, that could easily have been unheard and nothing would be bothered. In a sort of abstract way he'd already stated that they were indeed different, but maybe not so much as stating that he thought them to be interesting. Either way, it was his own opinion and someone could care less about it.
Corsemeier listened as she spoke of the problem of becoming pregnant. She was taken out of public school and home schooled since now. One would think that a person would be relived that they didn't have to worry about public school appearances and being pregnant. It's stressful enough to be a girl in high school, having to keep up the best looks and fashions, then having a child would be a load of stress right on top. Corsemeier had a girl that he used to go to the private school with, she'd landed herself pregnant and she had wanted nothing more then to be able to be home schooled, but her mother sided against it, and said it was her fault and would have to go through the rest of school. She said it was rough, but she had her friends, including Corsemeier, helping her through.
Another voice was heard coming close and he looked back to see a girl with a cat. Long and thin, red streaks were across her shoulder and steadily letting out more blood as she walked, but even still it would clot and eventually form long scabs. He assumed it was from the cat's claws... if not, that girl had some issues she needed to sort out. He didn't think he knew the girl, that or else he was having a major blank out and just didn't recognize her at the moment. Whatever it was, it didn't seem more important then getting the roses into the ground.
He slipped over to the garden, still not being far away from the two girls, but he was setting the box on the ground and grabbed the trowel. He dug a deep round hole into the ground and out of the box he grabbed a tall thorny plant with a pair of big red roses on it. The gloves on his hands prevented him from being stabbed by the thorns 99 times out of 100 but this time was that one time. The thorns scratched through a thin part of his glove on his finger and scraped the skin, leaving nothing but a thin cut. He set the plant into the hole, and sprinkled a tad bit of the fertilizer in the hole and buried the roots. He smoothed the dirt around the base and went on to plant another.
|
|
|
Post by wowposter on Nov 16, 2008 3:51:05 GMT -5
|
|