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Post by Carina Jones on Jan 23, 2012 0:45:04 GMT -5
... somehow that sounds very strange...
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 0:45:39 GMT -5
I did... *sigh*
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 1:22:26 GMT -5
Before you start the chapter I'd get a nice tall glass of water, a tissue box, and some anti-depressants. Just in case.
Florence- 2012
“Angelica,”
“Oh, hey, kid,” The girl said, watching as the boy made his way across the rock beaches and hopped onto the large boulder where she sat. She couldn’t bring herself to call him Florence. Vinci had told her about his recent actions and it just seemed… unnatural to call him anything other than kid.
“No one likes me here it seems,” the boy stated blankly, watching the waves as they splashed against the large sea-smoothed rocks, “they all seem to like the previous me better, what’s so great about him? He just seems like some duded up old guy-“
“Don’t talk about Lorenzo like that,” Angelica snarled, surprising the boy.
For a moment the boy’s unnatural eyes flickered an opaque white, then he glared “Fine! If you like him better I’ll leave!” He shouted, wiping away tears at his eyes. Jumping down from the rocks he ran.
Angelica sat, almost feeling bad for the boy as he left. Curling up so her chin rested on her knees she began to feel warmth slide down her cheeks and drip onto her arms. Why was he gone? Why did he leave so suddenly? So many questions… Angelica cursed to herself as she began to cry, hearing her own pathetic wails as she squeezed her eyes shut- sick of the world. She wanted him back.
“Do not cry, Angelica,” A voice seemed to whisper into her ear, she kept her face buried in her knees, her eyes closed. “everytime you cry you loose a piece of yourself,”
“Soon you will have nothing left,” she finished the man’s quote, “I know,” she sniffed “but I miss you so much,” she brought her hands to her face and sobbed, the salty water cutting glistening rivers down her face and arms as she cried. “Why did you go? You left me here..”
“Angelica,” the voice began, she could feel him wrap his’s arms around her, the slight roughness as his chin touched her forehead “though you may not see me, I am here, watching over you,” she cried harder into the shoulder of the man, her eyes squeezed shut in fear that when she opened them he would not be there. Having Lorenzo’s voice and touch was good enough.
“Chi Beddu stu cappiduzzu Chi beddu saporito Quannu mi l’ha mettiri Quannu mi fazz’u zitu Scinnu pi lu Cassuru Scinnu pi li Banneri E tutti chi me ricuni Bongiorno Cavaleri,” she heard him sing quietly into her ear.
She sniffed, nuzzling further into the warm crook of his neck. She wanted to see Lorenzo again, opening her eyes slowly she found herself leand against the rock wall of the seashore- her face pressed against the warm moss on the rocks. But she felt different- warmer. Looking around she saw a coat drapped over her. She smiled slightly through the tears and pain in her chest;
“Bongiorno Sir,”
*Sighs* Lorenzo... I'm sorry I killed you off... here's the song for today:
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Post by Elena Jones on Jan 23, 2012 1:34:27 GMT -5
Weaver....I can't even....How do I....*wipes tears from eyes*
I have to say, this was a sweet chapter, with the thought of him watching over her. And the song. x3 I love how it keeps coming up. It's his song to her whenever she's upset, huh?
Although, I can't help but wonder what the kid's doing...I have a bad feeling about him....like it wasn't already there....
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 1:37:41 GMT -5
I'm sorry! *cries with you*
Si, grazie.
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Post by Elena Jones on Jan 23, 2012 1:43:02 GMT -5
Vi~ *snuggles* It's ok. I think it's good that it made me cry. It was that touching.
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 1:44:16 GMT -5
I had a major breakdown moment because when I was reading it I was listening to this:
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Post by Elena Jones on Jan 23, 2012 1:49:02 GMT -5
....*goes back and re-reads it listening to the song*.....*breaks down again*
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 1:49:25 GMT -5
*hugs*
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Post by Carina Jones on Jan 23, 2012 8:42:26 GMT -5
*hugs weaver, Chandi, & Angel* Well done.
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 10:38:12 GMT -5
Thanks... *sniffs and hugs back*
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 11:27:28 GMT -5
Okay, before we start this chapter is my first horror chapter, so sorry if it sucks. Thanks for reviewing!
Weaver~
Vinci- 2012
Leonardo finished the small painting he’d done of his friend- it was a simple dark landscape for a background with Lorenzo in the forground, the man smiling almost coyly through the painting. Vinci picked up the multitude of brushes, walking over to his kitchen he began to scrub at them violently as the hot water let off it’s steam into his face. through the window in his kitchen he realized how long he had been painting for. It was the dead of night, he chuckled, thinking of what Lorenzo would say of his obsessiveness over painting. He was an artist though, unlike some of the other city-states he would actually clean up after himself. After that had been finished and he left the brushes out to dry he walked to the small refrigerator, reaching in he grabbed an apple. Biting into the crunchy fruit he scanned over the news paper- finishing the crossword puzzle for the Sunday paper as if were a simple addition problem. Not having to write anything on the news paper he memorized the words he had filled into the puzzle.
After he had finished he walked back over to see if the brushes had begun to dry. He studied them- they were now scattered around the marble surface he had set them onto dry. One was missing. Vinci took another bte out of the apple before walking into the art studio.
The apple fell to the floor- Vinci’s mouth fell open at the spectacle before him; red, black and white Paint was everywhere, all over the walls, the floor, even the ceiling had splatters tracking across it. All his works ruined. He studied the inhuman tracks that were the paint scattered on the floor, they weren’t random. They looked slightly like elongated paws, but the paint was so messy it blurred the tracks. He looked at the painting in the middle of the room- he couldn’t see what was on the front of it- the frame was not faced in his direction. Walking slowly he peeked around the edge of the canvas. It looked normal at first, no paint splatters or anything on it. But upon closer inspection Vinci gaged, the painting’s mouth… its top teeth were jagged and yellow while the bottom jaw was gone- it’s trachea exposed and covered in blood. The painting’s eyes were black and looked as if they were melting out of the sockets. And in large, blood red letters it red across the bottom: “Επιτρέψτε μου να” Vinci gulped, it ad been so long since he read Ancitent Greek.
“I-is anyone here?” he stammered, his cowardice he dispized, why couldn’t he be strong like Lorenzo. But no, he had the genes of a coward, not a fighter.
The room was silent, turning Vinci looked at the ground. From across the room he saw as one of his six by four shelves full of sculptures was flung across the room like a tennis ball. He rubbed his eyes- he couldn’t see anything there. He looked down at the floor, slowly new tracks started to appear as the thing walked towards him. He took a step back, tripping over the stand that held the demented painting up- falling back he screamed as he watched the thing advance on him.
“Stay away!” He cried waving a small cross infront of him, the one that hung around his neck at all times. He wasn’t too religious, but who knows what this… thing was. He shook, feeling his limbs freeze as the thing lumbered towards him. He couldn’t see anything, until what he supposed the head was opened it’s three pure-white orb like eyes.
“Let me out.” Some inhuman voice hissed, it was feminine-like, but also hoarse- as if the thing had been choaked, or it’s throat had been coated in chalk.
“Leave!” Vinci managed to scream as the footprints wth eyes stood infront of his fallen form.
As if in some broken television the eyes blured, a clawed black hand seemed to melt out of the air- it was dripping with what looked like blood, but smelled like carrion, another odd thing Vinci noted was the the blood seemed to drip upwards as well as to the floor- as if there was no gravity around the beast. Black shiney tentacles waved and dripped from the beast as it extended it’s hand towards him.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Vinci screamed, his shirt starting to get stained with the black blood. He threw the small iron cross creature- which succeded in doing nothing but disappear. What even seemed like a evil chuckle quietly coughed from the beast. It brought it’s hand down on his throat, some of the tentacles entering his screaming mouth and-
Vinci opened his eyes. He was laying on the floor of his art studio. He inhalded sharply as he sat up, his heart beating a hundred times a second. Looking around he saw nothing had happened- he looked over at the painting of Lorenzo, everything was back to normal. Standing he laughed to himself, it had been a figment of his imagination. He was probably just picturizing what doubtfully happened to Lorenzo. Not that giant, invisible, black, slimy, tentacle men were real, but everyone has an imagination, si?
Almost instinctively he reached up to where the cross hung around his neck, his breathing hitched, sweat trickled down his brow as he shook. It was gone.
After your finished reading tire-read it with this playing in the background:
Ciao, hope you can sleep tonight.
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Post by Carina Jones on Jan 23, 2012 11:51:40 GMT -5
O.O WOW Only suggestion would be translate "Επιτρέψτε μου να" at the bottom.
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 23, 2012 11:53:43 GMT -5
I can't yet, it comes in later in the story. What'd you think? *slightly scared*
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Post by Carina Jones on Jan 23, 2012 11:58:21 GMT -5
*nods* ok. Although that's something you could mention with an evil "mwa ha ha" in Author note if you wanted to I think it's amazing and freaky.
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