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Atlene and Bishie
~Private Roleplay for Bishielurfer and Atlene~ |
You know, after living for six hundred years you would think that he would be mature about things and learn not to make contracts with humans because they end up either A) trick you and steal your stuff or B) be whiny and clingy until you find a way to dispose of them. But of course, Damien rarely learned, if ever. Sixteen years ago he appeared in front of a couple wanting to extend their daughter’s life, and now sixteen years later…well, let’s just say that living for so long you get bored of the “Mwhahaha, I’m a demon, bow to me!” deal. Besides, being Hilter-esque in the twenty-first century was rather stupid.
Shuffing his hands in his pockets, the dark haired boy, who looked no older than seventeen, strolled down the streets. The girl had to be here somewhere, on her way to the school. Then maybe he could set things straight and tell her she could keep her life, as long as she wasn’t out of his sight for long. Yawning, he quickened his pace down the asphalt road. Earlier he had made an appearance to the old couple, announcing that their contract was up. Naturally the cowered, he sighed, rolled his eyes, and did a intimidating speech, and went poof. It was the same thing over and over again every time. |
Tap, tap, tap... The same sound of every moment, the same route of every morning, the same outfit of every day. The same pleated brown mid-thigh skirt with the same white button-down shirt and the same black blazer. Same black tie, same black slip-ons, same tan stockings, same everything. Her hair was up in the same shoulder-length ponytail, her side bag full of the same books and homework. She'd woken up at the same time (5 AM), eaten the same breakfast (bagel with cream cheese and milk) and left at the same time (6:30). Now she was on to the same school for the same day as always. Man life had gotten dull. Her parents had named her Ariana. It meant "golden life" in some language, but she'd yet to find the gold in her life. So far, it'd been nothing but school, work, and martial arts practice. Her parents always talked about how grateful she should be for her life, how she should love it and never take advantage of it, but really...what was there to take advantage of? Her life was dull. Though she supposed part of that was her fault. There was no denying--with her bright green eyes, narrow tan face, and slender body--that she was very pretty. As such, plenty of boys asked her out all the time, but her response was always the same: "Sorry, I have things to do." The 'things' were usually studies, tournaments, practice on the piano, or any of the other dozens of things she'd worked at since she was old enough to stand. She was a typical over-achiever, and a very bored one at that. Ariana was so distracted by her thoughts that she crashed directly into a young man walking down the street. "Oh, sorry!" She said quickly, stumbling back. "I wasn't watching. Sorry." |
Trying hard to only concentrate on his own musings, Damien wasn’t aware of the girl hurrying down the street until she had slammed straight into him. Mumbling a counter-apology to hers, he had to blink twice before he had a focus on the girl. A smile came onto his face as he studied her carefully. “Your name is Ariana, am I right?” Blue eyes scanned her face; it matched the photograph he had seen in the couple’s room perfectly. There was no mistaken that she was the girl he had extended the life of sixteen years ago.
Stretching, he waited for a response from her. It was typical. She would shriek and ask him why he knew her name, he would respond, tell her the story whether she believed it or not, and, well, normally he would take her away at that point. This time, though, would be different. Instead of having the human invade his territory, he would just rather take up her comfort zone. Which meant high school. Now you would be thinking, who in their right mind would want to go to high school? Well, spend six hundred years of your life listening to people complain and then we’ll talk. Already impatient that she hadn’t answered, he twiddled with his thumbs, wondering if this one’s response would be any different yet not expecting much variation. |
She eyed him, trying to remember if she'd ever met the man before. It wasn't unusual for her to forget faces; she was better with words. But surely she must know him, since he knew her name...It'd be awkward if she had to ask his name. What if he got angry? Or offended? She fiddled with the strap of her bag, shifting from foot to foot nervously. She was never meant to be social, she realized. That was probably why her life was so boring, because she was no good with people. Perhaps he was a friend of a friend, and she had never met him? Sure, that would make sense. Perhaps Catherine had showed him a picture, or described her. Or maybe she was just being really forgetful again. It suddenly dawned on her how odd she must seem, simply standing there staring after being asked a question. "Oh, uh...yeah, that's me. Do...Have we met?" She blushed slightly, really hoping he said no. |
To say he was amused at what she said to him would be the understatement of the century. This was an odd one, he could feel it. “Nope, but I’ve met your parents and heard so many things about you.” Damien smiled, gesturing down the road as if to tell her to walk with him. “Name’s Damien Fletchley. Of course, I really didn’t expect your parents to tell you about me edgeways.” He paused for a moment, contemplating on how to put the matter delicately now she didn’t freak out on him. “Well, for starters… How do I say this? Your parents made an agreement about me and you when you were born.”
He scratched the back of his head, already slumped on how exactly to explain it to this girl that he was here to sort of, kind of take her soul. “Ugh, well… To put it in simpler terms, if it weren’t for me you would have been dead sixteen years ago and now I’m here for payback. Questions?” Part of him realized just how pathetic that sounded, but shrugged it off. |
She tilted her head slightly, staring at him blankly. Finally, she said, "Yeah. Are you crazy, or just stupid?" With that, she resumed walking, brushing past him. "Funny joke, Damien. I have to get to school." Jeeze, why did she end up meeting all the crazies? First the old man who accused her of stealing squash from his garden, now this guy. She was glad the week was almost over, because she was pretty certain she couldn't handle any more. If Catherine sent this guy to mess with me, she's she dead, she thought to herself in annoyance. |
Running up to catch up with her, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. Should have expected this one coming. "Then go ask your dear, sweet parents if you don't believe me. I'm pretty sure they'll give you answers." His eyes narrowed. Life would be much easier if these parents just told their kids, 'Oh, I sold your soul to a demon so you can live an extra few years! Have fun!' But no. The lovely, kind parents just decide to keep everything in the dark so the they would have to end up doing all the work. Honestly, he didn't get it at all.
"Or do I have to prove it to you that I'm not joking?" |
It was her turn to roll her eyes as she stopped, her hands on her hips in irritation. She sized him up her eyes, fully aware of the obvious difference in height and body-build between the two. "Fine. Show me," she challenged sarcastically. "But be quick, you're making me late." She figured if he tried anything weird, she could kick him and run, or call someone on her phone, or...something. She wasn't really what she was going to do, but it was going to be something. Hopefully something good. But if not, at least something. |
Almost grimacing, Darien reminded him exactly why he hated this part, the long, rambly, I-have-your-soul part of the speech. Hearing that she was in a hurry, he smiled slightly. More than a reason cut the explanations short. Snapping his fingers once, a piece of parchment paper appeared in his hands and he held up up for her to see. "Both of your parent's signature there at the bottom of the contract, the date—your birth date, mind you—and the agreement. Mmhm." Pausing, he at her again. "If you're late you can leave. There's time to spare."
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She jumped slightly when the paper appeared. "Now...that is a very good magic trick," she complimented with a small grin. "You should teach me that." Leaning in, she examined the paper, reading it over quickly. "Impressive. You put a lot of effort into all of this. Though, you really should put your talents to a better use than pulling pranks. Now if you'll excuse me, I am late." Shifting her bag, she turned her back on his and continued down the road. |
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he was speechless. All there was left to do at this point was to appear at her house and force her parents to explain. Honestly, this job was getting harder as the kids were getting more and more cynical. Not even bothering with a goodbye, he turned a heel and left. There was still time to deal with this all before the girl’s body was going to cave in.
Think of a cheerleader, a stereotypical cheerleader, you know, those airhead blonde girls. That sums up Chrysanthe pretty well. Considerably absent minded most of the time, Chrissie, as she preferred, could be insulted a multiple number of times and she would stare at you with wide eyes wondering why everyone was laughing. You would think that she was really that stupid or that she was just that good of an actress. Humming, the girl marveled at the dapple green light glittering through a canopy of trees. Down at the intersection she spotted a pair talking, the girl seemingly annoyed and the boy unconcerned. Frowning as the boy turned to leave; she decided not to pry any further, but wave and try to get the girl’s attention. They were wearing the same uniform after all. ooc// Chrysanthe's a new character, just so you know. I made a human so the interaction might not be as choppy since, well, yeah. Gosh... I've been so obsessed with Greek origin names lately. x] |
Ariana's eye fell on the girl with an inward groan. "Not another one," she mumbled to herself. "There's no way I'm going to get there on time at this rate." With a small sigh, she forced a smile to her face and gave a quick, "hi", hoping if she just kept walking the girl wouldn't hold her up. |
She hastened her pace once the other girl caught up, knowing fully well that they were almost late. “Hey! Name’s Chrissie, Chysanthe really, but call me Chrissie! Aren’t you that really smart girl in the sophomore year? I’m a junior.” Yeah, you can clearly see that the blonde girl loved to ramble on about nothing. “Anyways, I think we’re late, so let’s hurry.”
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"Yes, we are late, and I am hurrying." Had she not been in already such a foul mood, Ariana might have gotten a bit of amusement from the complete polar oppositeness of the two girls. Ariana, considerably shorter than Chrissie, with her dark hair and serious expression, must have looked quite comically solemn next to the cheerful blonde. "And my name is Ariana." |
“It’s pretty name!” the girl chirped, tossing her blonde hair back. She seemed all too carefree about everything, bright smile and all. It was as though she could have done a little dance on the spot. “Anywhoo, I’d hope to get to know you better, since it must be fate we’ve met like that.” The school had finally come into view, and thankfully they were still three minutes away from being locked out completely.
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"I'm glad you like it," she responded with just the tiniest bit of sarcasm. "And I don't believe in fate. You just happened to be on the same route as me, that's all." Quickening her pace to reach the building quicker, she added, "If you plan on getting to 'know me better', please do so sometime other than the mornings. I've never gotten here so late." Normally, she had a much nicer demeanor, but tardiness (even if it was only by her standards) was a huge annoyance for her and was putting her in a bit of a bad mood. |
“Then you better start believing,” Chrissie responded with a small smile, readjusting the bag she was carrying so her shoulders wouldn’t ache as much. At the mention of something other than mornings the blonde girl gave a small salute before adding, “Roger that. Maybe today at lunch? Or will you be too busy or something of the like?”
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For a split second, Ariana contemplated saying 'yes', but quickly discarded the idea. "No, I won't be busy." They passed through the school gates and she glanced at her watch. "Only a minute left, and my class is on the second floor. I've really got to hurry." Quickening her pace to almost a jog, she added, "I eat in the courtyard." |
“Alright, see you there!” Chrissie chirped brightly before bolted past Adriana, on her way towards the gym still waving and smiling.
--- A can of soda in hand, the blonde girl bounded down the steps to the courtyard, ignoring requests for her to eat lunch with other people before finally settling down on a bench under a tree. Glancing, she cracked open the can and took a delicate sip. |
Ariana made her way down the two flights of stairs from her last class to the courtyard. If anyone spoke to her, she didn't hear them. Her morning had been on disaster after the next, and she currently wanted nothing more than to go home, curl up, and sleep. When she reached the courtyard, her eyes fell on Chrissie and she froze. She'd completely forgotten about her, and wondered if she could maybe get away with pretending she'd never seen her. After debating with herself for a few moments, she sighed and closed the distance between them. "Hi," she said with a tired and somewhat forced smile. |
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