Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
|
Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Jul 3, 2019 21:07:17 GMT -5
Angel With a Shotgun
Renegade is not your average Guardian Angel. He’s rebellious, unorthodox, and refuses to take his job seriously. He has been reassigned many times over the course of his immortal life after one too many near losses of the one he is meant to protect. His superior has finally had enough, and places Renegade under probation. He is given a new charge and told that if he doesn’t do his job properly and they die, no one will step in to help this time. And if Renegade’s charge dies, he will be cast from the Angels and sent into purgatory — an angel’s worst fear.
Victoria Sparks is an ordinary girl — or so she’s always believed. Until the day a demon attacks her and she is saved by a beautiful boy with wings. Turns out, Tori isn’t normal at all. She’s a Descendent, a child of angels whose blood has been diluted throughout the generations, but still has incredible power within her — a power that demons crave above all else. Most Descendants cannot access their power, and thus are vulnerable to the demons who hunt them. Their only defense is the Guardian sent to protect them — a Guardian they are not meant to know exists. They are not meant to know of their heritage, either. But Tori’s new Guardian is Renegade, and he’s already breaking the rules — again.
It soon becomes clear that Tori is no ordinary Descendent. She can access the power in her blood — a feat that should be impossible. But mere access to raw power is not enough to protect her. Renegade has to do his job and find a way to protect her, both from the demons who seek her — and from the power in her blood that threatens to consume her. To make matters worse, by breaking the rules and revealing himself to Tori, Renegade has left himself vulnerable to emotions — a mistake that may prove fatal. Will the feelings they develop for each other hasten their doom? Or will it give them the strength to fight?
Renegade, “Ren” | true age unknown (looks 18-22) | Pansexual | Angel (Guardian)
Ren is a centuries old heavenly being who looks like a rebellious teenager. He could pass as a sixteen-year-old to a young man in his early twenties. He tends to look boyish with his golden hair hanging around his head in messy waves, but his tall, lean physique leads people to assume he's older. Ren isn't large, but it's clear he's fit and muscular, with broad shoulders, defined pecs and abs, and a narrow waist. The best part is, he doesn't even need to work to look perfect; as a Guardian Angel, he simply is perfect—physically, at least. But Ren isn't one to sit around idly. He may not work to keep his body in shape, but he does do things that are physically demanding. When between jobs, he likes to do simple, human things like rock climbing, mixed martial arts, and mountain biking. When in Heaven, he tests and enhances his skills in combat and weaponry. Unlike the rest of his brethren, Ren keeps his hair short, though that doesn't stop it from constantly falling into his eyes. It is thick and wavy, and a bright shade of gold interlaced with a few bronze strands that really stand out when the sun hits them just right. His eyes are a bright and captivating amber, surrounded by long, dark lashes. Ren rarely bothers with the traditional Guardian attire (black tactical pants and shirt, covered by heavenly-made armour), and instead chooses to wear a more human fashion: dark jeans, black combat boots, plain t-shirts, and a black leather jacket; dark shades often accompany the ensemble as well. Ren’s wings, which he can keep visible or vanish with a thought, are large and feathered, spanning nearly thirty feet when fully spread. They’re bronze in colour, and shot through with streaks of bright gold—the opposite of his hair. Each individual feather is also dipped in amber, a darker shade than that of his eyes that sometimes looks reddish in certain lights.
Renegade is a willful being. He lives his life with the belief that if he can think it, he can do it. He doesn't let anyone or anything stop him, and he could care less about the opinions of others and what the laws of physics have to say about what is and isn't possible. He's beyond stubborn, with a no-quit attitude about literally everything. He's clever and witty, with a sharp tongue and a sharper temper. He possesses a confidence bordering on arrogance, his charm and charisma often draws others to him, and he uses sarcasm with the same skill and precision as if it were just another weapon in his arsenal. He is afraid of nothing. Even when he feels fear, he does not let it stop him from acting. Ren is genuine and real. He doesn’t beat around the bush or sugarcoat anything. He doesn’t try to hide who he is or how he feels. If he thinks it, he says it. If he feels it, he expresses it. If he believes in it, he fights for it. He is brutally blunt, and he won’t tell you a lie. Ren is who he is, and he isn’t interested in changing for anyone. He can be rebellious and rather unorthodox, and he isn’t one to obey orders blindly. He believes that trust and respect are earned, not given, and until his has been won, he can be quite prickly and uncooperative. To those who have earned his trust and respect, however, Ren is kind, true, and loyal to a fault. With them, he can always be counted on.
As a Guardian Angel, Ren and his brothers in arms are some of the most powerful angels Heaven has to offer—second only to the almighty Archangels—and Ren himself would be among the strongest of them if he would just take his job seriously. But his raw power often gets him into trouble more than anything, because he rarely takes the time for restraint. wip~
Victoria "Tori" Sparks | 21 | Heterosexual | Human (Descendant)
Tori is a whole lot of fire stuffed into a tiny body. With her petite build and 5'3" stature, it isn't hard to believe that people often underestimate the woman. Shoulder length black hair, a shade that almost shines blue in certain light, falls around her heart shaped face, acting as a curtain at times between her and the rest of the world. Other times, she pins it back, but this is normally when doing activities that require all of her focus. Never one for make-up, what you see is what you get. Skin that's on the paler side with pinkish undertones, dark eyebrows of medium thickness over sable brown eyes, a sharp nose and high cheek bones, and average lips tinted a shade or two darker pink than the rest of her skin tone. Every now and then she might put on some eye-liner, but it depended on if she wanted to bother with it or the type of look she was going for. Apparel wise, you won't see Tori in fancy or pretty clothing. As a person who very much likes to be the observer and not the observed, her wardrobe consists of a lot of winter colors. Mainly, the woman wore tank-tops, t-shirts, and the occasion plaid shirt if she wanted to add more effort to the outfit, all paired with some type of skinny jean she has in her collection. Upon her left wrist, a multitude of bracelets, mostly those rubber kind, either solid colors or band related, find residence. It's rare to see the woman without them.
As small and unassuming as she is, Tori is quiet the force to be reckoned with. Tell her she can't do something, and she'll go out of her way to prove you wrong, and then some. Start a fight, and she will certainly finish it. Whether it be verbal or physical, she has a way to shutting disagreements down. Now, not every time she comes out the victor, but you can bet your money she didn't lose either. Make fun of her, and she'll show you the full advantage of being a police officer's daughter. She's got a quick temper, one that can either sit and smolder or explode and let loose a punch or two if provoked. And she's a master of giving people the silent treatment. However, if one has managed to get and stay on her good side, then they are guaranteed little trouble from her. Not one to rely on others for help, she is a good companion if you need an ear to listen, shoulder to lean on, or just to have around so things don't feel so lonely. She's perfectly fine not socializing, but is not against making appearances at social settings if requested of her. Granted, she might not take part in much of the festivities, but she'll be there for the moral support of those who asked her to join.
Since a young age, Tori had been able to see things a lot of other people couldn't. Now, whether that was true, or everyone else either forgot about them or refused to acknowledge them, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that when she tried to explain the things she saw and the voices she heard, no one believed her. Her concerns were chalked up to be the imaginings of a child seeking attention. Eventually, she was beginning to believe them and would have believed them had it not been for one night when she was six. Her parents had been out of the house, and it was just her and the babysitter. Tori had been playing in her room when a creature appeared within the shadows. Humanoid in its figure, but anything but. She found herself frozen in fear, unable to move or cry out for help as the creature attacked. Only when the babysitter came in to check on her did it leave. Yet despite the pain she had felt, there were no marks on her body at all left behind. Terrified, she tried to explain what had happened, but due to the lack of evidence, she had been told it was nothing but a bad dream. She got a similar result when she tried to seeking her parents aid. A nightmare, that's all it had been. One that kept her from sleeping in her own room for a month after that. On a few more instances, she attempted to find someone who would hear her account of that night, but no one seemed to have the time. So she stopped talking about it. She just stopped talking at all. Since then, Tori has refused to speak, deeming that her words would have no meaning to whoever wished her to speak. It has caused many problems between her and her parents and even some of her friends, but the woman held fast to her decision, even if it had, in some ways, made her life a harder.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
|
Post by *Nightwhisper on Jul 3, 2019 23:15:25 GMT -5
I can already see her teaching him all the bad words. XD That's also something that I'm trying to figure out. Originally, I had it that when she was born, her umbilical cord had been wrapped around her throat, causing damage that left her able to speak, but it was painful to do so and only at a whispered volume. With therapy, it might have gotten better, but she just chose not to speak out of convince and comfort. However, I think if there was an instance of trauma, it might play a part later on down the road as well? Like maybe she might have been attacked by a demon as a child, no one really believed her because she was so young and they thought she was just making things up, and thus chose a life of silence? Perhaps she's had several encounters before, just none too bad that she would need protecting from, until now. Either works, so it's all up to what might work best with this plot.
I apologize if none of that made since. It's midnight, but I wanted to reply before I went to bed.
|
|
|
|
Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
|
Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Jul 4, 2019 11:43:04 GMT -5
|
|
*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
|
Post by *Nightwhisper on Jul 4, 2019 12:37:43 GMT -5
Victoria "Tori" Sparks | 21 | Heterosexual | Human/Descendant
Tori is a whole lot of fire stuffed into a tiny body. With her petite build and 5'3" stature, it isn't hard to believe that people often underestimate the woman. Shoulder length black hair, a shade that almost shines blue in certain light, falls around her heart shaped face, acting as a curtain at times between her and the rest of the world. Other times, she pins it back, but this is normally when doing activities that require all of her focus. Never one for make-up, what you see is what you get. Skin that's on the paler side with pinkish undertones, dark eyebrows of medium thickness over sable brown eyes, a sharp nose and high cheek bones, and average lips tinted a shade or two darker pink than the rest of her skin tone. Every now and then she might put on some eye-liner, but it depended on if she wanted to bother with it or the type of look she was going for. Apparel wise, you won't see Tori in fancy or pretty clothing. As a person who very much likes to be the observer and not the observed, her wardrobe consists of a lot of winter colors. Mainly, the woman wore tank-tops, t-shirts, and the occasion plaid shirt if she wanted to add more effort to the outfit, all paired with some type of skinny jean she has in her collection. Upon her left wrist, a multitude of bracelets, mostly those rubber kind, either solid colors or band related, find residence. It's rare to see the woman without them.
As small and unassuming as she is, Tori is quiet the force to be reckoned with. Tell her she can't do something, and she'll go out of her way to prove you wrong, and then some. Start a fight, and she will certainly finish it. Whether it be verbal or physical, she has a way to shutting disagreements down. Now, not every time she comes out the victor, but you can bet your money she didn't lose either. Make fun of her, and she'll show you the full advantage of being a police officer's daughter. She's got a quick temper, one that can either sit and smolder or explode and let loose a punch or two if provoked. And she's a master of giving people the silent treatment. However, if one has managed to get and stay on her good side, then they are guaranteed little trouble from her. Not one to rely on others for help, she is a good companion if you need an ear to listen, shoulder to lean on, or just to have around so things don't feel so lonely. She's perfectly fine not socializing, but is not against making appearances at social settings if requested of her. Granted, she might not take part in much of the festivities, but she'll be there for the moral support of those who asked her to join.
Since a young age, Tori had been able to see things a lot of other people couldn't. Now, whether that was true, or everyone else either forgot about them or refused to acknowledge them, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that when she tried to explain the things she saw and the voices she heard, no one believed her. Her concerns were chalked up to be the imaginings of a child seeking attention. Eventually, she was beginning to believe them and would have believed them had it not been for one night when she was six. Her parents had been out of the house, and it was just her and the babysitter. Tori had been playing in her room when a creature appeared within the shadows. Humanoid in its figure, but anything but. She found herself frozen in fear, unable to move or cry out for help as the creature attacked. Only when the babysitter came in to check on her did it leave. Yet despite the pain she had felt, there were no marks on her body at all left behind. Terrified, she tried to explain what had happened, but due to the lack of evidence, she had been told it was nothing but a bad dream. She got a similar result when she tried to seeking her parents aid. A nightmare, that's all it had been. One that kept her from sleeping in her own room for a month after that. On a few more instances, she attempted to find someone who would hear her account of that night, but no one seemed to have the time. So she stopped talking about it. She just stopped talking at all. Since then, Tori has refused to speak, deeming that her words would have no meaning to whoever wished her to speak. It has caused many problems between her and her parents and even some of her friends, but the woman held fast to her decision, even if it had, in some ways, made her life a harder.
(Welp, there she is. I may have to change a few things, especially in her backstory. I just couldn't think of anything specific that might have happened, so I kept it vague. If we figure out what exactly happened, I can go back and edit it. If you see anything that needs fixing/changing, let me know!)
|
|
|
|
Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
|
Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Jul 4, 2019 20:34:33 GMT -5
I wrote a prologue-type post (cause I was bored and had too much time on my hands xD), so I could post that, and from there we can start with her being attacked by a demon, or maybe right before? I was also thinking I should make a second character, a friend of sibling of Tori, who I can use during the filler times in the beginning of Tori and Ren's relationship, because I feel like for the fist bit at least, he's not around as often. Like, he is, but he's more an invisible presence watching over her and keeping her safe, not actually part of her day-to-day life. You know what I mean? Sorry if it doesn't make much sense. xD
|
|
|
|
|
|
Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
|
Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Jul 4, 2019 21:27:34 GMT -5
Time was such an odd thing. It was endless and constant, never changing as it passed, yet it had the ability to speed up or slow down based on nothing but one's perception of it. A child could be sitting in a classroom, counting down the seconds until freedom, and each of those seconds would feel like an eternity. Or a long anticipated event could pass in the blink of an eye simply because it was so fun, no one bothered to pay any attention to the passing of time.
Ren himself was always feeling like time was speeding by or crawling along. He had been alive for centuries, but that didn't stop him from living, and that meant he was aware of every passing second. The fact that he could control time to some extent may have played a part in it too.
In that moment, Ren could feel time slipping along slowly as he waited to be summoned by the Guardian Council. It wasn't the first time he had waited in the vast hall before the elegant doors of the council chamber, and he doubted it would be his last. Each time he was summoned, it seemed to him it took longer and longer for the Council to bring him in. Was it just his imagination? Or was the Council actually making him wait longer every time for one purpose or another?
The Council certainly liked testing him, that was for sure. They were constantly testing his various skills, making sure he still had what it takes to be a Guardian Angel. Tests of strength, power, and reflexes, as well as challenges that tested his intelligence and how well he could think and plan on his feet, make snap decisions and act on them accordingly. He had passed, every single one, every single time.
There's that word again, he thought. Time.
It was so inconsequential, yet so important—especially to mortals. Their time on earth was so limited, their lives so short. And Ren would know, for he'd been witness to a human's life, many times over. Very few had lived very long at all.
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the doors. And that's probably why I'm here.
As if this thought was what they had been waiting for him to realize, the chamber doors suddenly swung open on a gentle breeze. That same breeze appeared behind him and gave him a nudge on his back—his invitation to enter.
Ren took a deep breath and stepped into the chamber.
There was a flash of light as he crossed the threshold, a moment of utter silence, and then the light vanished and the quiet rustling of feathers could be heard. Ren stood before a half moon table, where seven unearthly beings sat. The sun was behind them, casting golden halos over their forms. It was a glorious effect, one Ren had seen so many times now it has lost its edge. If anything, all it did for him now was give him a headache.
“Guardian Renegade,” the archangel at the centre of the circle began. He already sounded cross, and Ren hadn't even said anything yet. “Where are your wings?”
Ren arched one dark gold brow and had to fight the urge to smirk. “That's not why I'm here, is it? Because I choose to remain in my human guise rather than my heavenly one?”
“No, it is not,” a second archangel said, shooting the first a look. Then he pinned Ren with his clear gaze. “You know exactly why you're here, Renegade.”
Ren flexed his shoulders, and he knew if he did have his wings out, they would have been rustling nervously. Which was exactly why he'd opted to attend this meeting in his human form. The less they knew about his feelings on the matter of this meeting, the better.
Ren sighed and looked away from the blinding light surrounding the seven angels. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered.
“Oh, you know,” the first archangel mocked. “You know, yet you let it happen? Again? Dammit, boy, how many lives are you—”
“Gabriel,” the second archangel said, at the same time Ren arched one brow and asked, “Boy?”
Gabriel shot Ren a glare, but heeded the command of his brother and remained silent.
Ren fought to keep a satisfied smirk from showing. He didn't do a very good job, if the narrowed gazes sent his way were any indication.
Only the archangel who'd reprimanded Gabriel remained expressionless as he gazed at Ren. The young angel—for that's what he was, compared to these beings—held his gaze steadily.
Finally, the archangel lifted his hand and waved it dismissively. Without taking his eyes off Ren, he said, “Leave us.”
Five out of six listened instantly. There was a half second of intense white light from where each angel sat, and when it vanished, so had the angel. Only Gabriel remained.
“Michael,” he started. “Tell me you aren't—”
“Gabriel,” Michael cut him off, his gaze finally leaving Ren to meet that of his brother. “We have our orders. You cannot change them.”
“No, but you can,” Gabriel hissed. “You were given the option. I don't understand why you refuse to take it. This boy—” he spat the word, with a pointed glare at Ren “—is not fit to wear the title of Guardian, and you know it.”
Michael's expression did not change despite the fury emanating from Gabriel. “Why is he not?” he asked calmly, as if he genuinely wanted to hear his brother's opinion.
Gabriel looked pleased to have the chance to sway Michael. “Fifty-six,” he said simply. “Fifty-six lives lost while under that one's protection. Fifty-six lives he failed to save. Fifty-six souls who will never ascend to heaven because he could not be bothered to keep them alive. Is that not reason enough?”
Michael did not disagree. He simply stated his own facts. “And what of the one hundred and sixty-eight people he has saved? What of the thousands of demons he's destroyed, leaving many humans, not just the one he is assigned to protect, safer? I admit, Renegade can be… unorthodox in his choices, but he is not a bad Guardian. He simply lacks focus, and he will not gain that by being cast out.”
Ren had been listening silently until then, his thoughts flashing through the faces of those one hundred and sixty-eight people he'd saved—and recoiling at the thought of the fifty-six he hadn't. He hadn't meant for them to die—he just couldn't seem to remember how fragile humans were. Never had any of his assignments died at the hands of demons, but it wasn't just demons he was supposed to protect them from. He often forgot that as well.
Michael's last words snapped him from his thoughts. “Wait,” he said, cutting off whatever Gabriel had been saying and earning a foul look for it from the archangel. “Cast out? I'm in danger of being cast out of the Guardians?” They'd threatened before, but Ren knew they had never been serious. He may have had the largest record of assignment deaths, but no Guardian was as good as he was at killing demons, and that was the real mission here, wasn't it?
Gabriel smirked, quite pleased by Ren's reaction. “Oh no, boy, you're not being cast out of the Guardians.” His expression became downright smug. “You're being cast out of Heaven… and sent to purgatory.”
Ren froze, his entire being going cold. No angel could survive purgatory, not as themselves. It did not kill them, but it left them in a state worse than death. Ren would have welcomed true death at the hands of a demon rather than face purgatory—any Guardian Angel would.
“Enough, Gabriel,” Michael said. He looked again at Ren. “You are not being cast out.” Not right now, at least, is what he didn’t say, but Ren heard the words in his voice, saw it in his eyes. “You will receive a new assignment, and you will do your job. But, Ren…” Michael’s expression shifted, just slightly, the only sign of the true severity of the situation. “This is your last chance. If you fail this mission, I will have no choice but to cast you out.”
Ren swallowed hard and looked away. He wanted to argue, reinforce his reasons for why he should be allowed to stay, succeed or fail, but he knew it would do no good. We have our orders. You were given the option. That’s what they had said. And the only one who could give the archangels orders was the Heavenly Father himself. Ren could argue until he turned blue in the face, it would not change their minds if the command was a direct order from God.
Ren hardened his jaw and faced Michael again. “Understood. Who is the assignment?”
Michael waved his hand and a file folder appeared in front of Ren. It hovered in the air until he grabbed it. He flipped it open, his eyes grazing over the information. His eyebrows went up at what he saw. “This is an adult,” he said. New assignments usually came in the form of a newborn child; the Guardian was meant to watch over it throughout its whole life. Ren raised his eyes to the archangels. “How has she survived two decades without a Guardian?”
“She hasn’t,” Michael replied.
Ren’s brow furrowed, and then his eyes widened. “Her Guardian is dead?”
It wasn’t impossible for a Guardian to be slain while doing their duty. Demons came in all shapes and sizes, each with their own sets of weaknesses and strengths. Guardian Angels were trained in various ways for defeating each demon they may encounter, but sometimes it wasn’t enough. Usually when the Guardian died, however, their assignment quickly followed.
“How long?” Ren asked. “How long has she been alone?”
“Not long,” Michael replied. “The death of her Guardian happened just before we called you into this meeting. It is why it took us so long to be ready for you.”
Ah. So that was the reason for the wait. Guess patience is not something they feel a need to test me on after all.
“But she should not be left alone much longer,” Michael went on. “You will descend immediately, and you will protect this girl.”
Ren nodded. He closed the file and went to turn for the door. Michael’s voice stopped him before he got far.
“A word of warning, Renegade. This human is not like your previous assignments. The power in her blood is strong. Many demons have been attracted by her over the years, many more than usual. It was a horde of demons that managed to defeat her previous Guardian. You were chosen for this because of your skill in demon slaying. I fear no one else has what it takes to destroy all the demons this girl seems capable of attracting.”
Ren shot the archangel a startled look, then took in Gabriel’s irritated expression. Slowly, his eyes returned to Michael. “That’s the only reason I’ve been granted this chance, isn’t it? Because I’m the only one strong enough for this assignment.”
Michael said nothing, but Gabriel snorted. “Obviously,” he muttered.
Michael shot him a stern look before focusing his attention on Ren again. “Do your job, Renegade. Do it well.” He nodded, in farewell and dismissal. There was a flash of golden light, so bright Ren had to close his eyes against it. When it vanished, he opened his eyes to see he was no longer in the council chamber. He was in the descension room, looking down through the glass floor at earth, far, far below.
He looked at the cover of the file in his hand, at the name printed on it—Victoria Sparks—and sighed. As his gaze drifted once more to earth, as he dropped his human form and allowed his true one to envelop him with warmth and power, one thought cycled through his mind.
I better make this count.
|
|
*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
|
Post by *Nightwhisper on Jul 4, 2019 22:15:02 GMT -5
(Okay! Tori's usually an only child anyway, so that works out great. XD Take your time. There's no rush. And now I need a mini series of all the banter Michael and Gabriel have had. XD
Also, I apologize this is going to be bad. Starters are always weird for me, and I feel like this is thrash compared the the beautiful piece you had crafted.)
People say that once you finished high school, life got easier. Bullies no longer cared out you, college brings forth the opportunity of fresh starts and the prospects of the rest of your life, and the years were limited only by what you made of them. Tori found herself calling BS on all of that. She had been out of college for three years now, and it still felt as if her life was the same. The same people who shared her classes in high school now shared the classes of her college courses. Opportunities for her future career were about as clear to her now as they had been back at the beginning of high school: poor at best. Not that she couldn't pursue what she wanted to study, but because she really had no idea what to study. Perhaps the only thing that had changed was the amounts of limits set before her. Still, that didn't solve any of her problems. Now she could just buy herself alcohol to deal with them.
There was little she cared for about her daily routines. She got up, went to classes in the afternoons. On Mondays and Thursdays, she had her meetings with her therapist. Or, really, her battle of wills with her therapist. For the past sixteen years, the same woman had tried to get the girl to open up to her, to offer her help. For the past sixteen years, the woman had gotten nothing more than bitter notes and glares in return. The therapist hadn't even thought to get an interpreter for her appointments! That only told Tori that whatever effort she was putting into her job was only a half effort on her part. If she wanted to get her to speak again, it might be helpful to show you were willing to do what it took to make her feel comfortable. Writing notes was not her preferred method of communicating, after all. Chances were, the only reason why she was still even trying was because her parents were paying her good money for the meetings. You would think after a while, they would realize it wasn't working and switch tactics. But that was a whole other list of issues she'd rather not think about. Relations with her parents were strained at best. Her father, at least, had dedicated time to learn a bit of sign language. Being a family man, Victor Sparks wanted to be sure he could talk with his only child as best as he could. Her mother, on the other hand, was a different story. Always stuck in her work, Tori's silence was almost like a personal attack on the woman. Heather Sparks was very much one who didn't like it when things didn't go her way. She had already had plans of what she expected her daughter to be, and her withdrawal from communication threw a wrench into the whole thing. Subtle comments and frustrated lectures had become the bane of her home life. Tori still kept contact with her father. Her mother, no more than she had to.
On every other day, she dragged herself to work, which might be the only positive thing going on in her life at the moment. Right outside the college campus, she had found herself hired on at local recording studio. While she herself had no talent for music, she did have an ear for it. She was able to judge when things were off key, needed to be changed in pitch or tempo, and just over all tell if something sounded good or horrible. With practice, she might be able to learn an instrument or two, but the young woman was more than happy to stay outside the booth, listening and mixing the music instead of making it. While still low on the totem pole, the woman had been allowed to help on some of the bigger projects in the year and a half she had been working there. It wasn't the most glorious or well paying job, but she was paid to do something she had an interest in. That in itself counted for something.
With a sigh, Tori tossed her text book to the other end of the sofa as she leaned her head back against the armrest. Currently, she was sitting in the living room she and her best friend, Mallory, rented together. The text book that had been flung none too gently had been one for her history class. It was seven in the evening, she had been home from work for a total of thirty minutes, and had a test tomorrow that she would most likely fail if she didn't study. However, the woman was tired and her brain was protesting, quiet literally. There was an ache forming just behind her eyes. A familiar ache that came from not enough sleep and stress. Advil usually helped, but she had ran out of it yesterday and forgot to pick up more on her way home. Maybe there was still a beer in the fridge that she could have instead, call it an early night, and worry about the test tomorrow. She could use the extra time to try and gain back the sleep she lost last night. Mallory and her had nothing planned that she was aware of, so it shouldn't be a problem. Leave a note for the other woman so she knew what was up, and she could try to rest.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
|
Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Jul 5, 2019 22:08:53 GMT -5
|
|
|
|