sweetsalome: (Dance)
    Hirooooooooooooooooooo!  It's a full moon out tonight!  Will you show me the rabbit on the moon?!
sweetsalome: (sun dreaming)
       tu mia luna tu sei qui con me
sweetsalome: (legs)
    Do you think Juliet would have liked Romeo as much as she did if he wasn't her family's enemy?

On a similar note, I think Romeo and Juliet is over played, and I truly hate that stupid play.  This may or may not have something to do with my test I have on in in English next tuesday.
sweetsalome: (Broken)
        Salome goes for a walk after dinner, her hands in her coat pockets, her breath puffing out in front of her as her boots crunch on the frozen, icy ground.  She doesn't know where she's going, but a walk seems like a good idea, all the noise of the house and the commotion of the holidays has stirred up too many thoughts and unanswered questions. 

It seems like winter does that, the nights are longer and the days are shorter.  More night leaves more time to think, and laying in bed in the darkness it's easy to question everything with no satisfactory conclusions.  So she walks at night, and kicks dead, wet leaves out of her way before stopping at the every edge of the property.  That slight incline that allows her to look down at the fields and houses below her.  Everything is still, everything is calm.

People move about in their houses, lights flicker in windows and spill out on to the black ground.  Bright eyes looking out on to the wide, empty night.  In the cold she remembers stories about the cold, the little match girl, and Gretchen who claws through the snow with her child that Faust has denied.  Only to lay the child at the foot of a statue she believes, in her delirium to be an angel.  Salvation.

Salome believes in salvation, she believes in redemption, but it seems - especially at moments like this, that it's for everyone but herself.  There needs to be some sort of guidance, some sort of path that should be visible in these times of darkness.  There should be something there. 

    "Where are you?"  She speaks to no one but expects an answer.  In response, it begins to snow, and she knows that in a few minutes everything will be clean again.
sweetsalome: (Completely lost)
        I am sick and I would like to bash my head open with a rock so I can finally find that little tiny man with a pitch fork that runs around screaming all the time.

*Whimper*

It is funny that a man with a farm implement will be my down fall.
sweetsalome: (jonba paper)
[ooc: Hiro used with permission, not proof read because I gotta work :( ]

   

    It's still warm down in Nassau, even at night, and so the windows are open - currents fluttering in the soft breeze carying the sound of waves crashing on the beach.  All familiar, comforting noises to Salome, though she's use to sleeping in the boat instead of the house, she doesn't like sleeping in the house much for the same reason she doesn't like sleeping in the house in New York - the memories.  She's curled up around Hiro, her head on his chest, one arm and leg draped over him and the sheets tangled around both of them.  When she's with him she always sleeps better, and she is not sure why.  Maybe it's the beating of his heart or just his arms around her that comfort her and more often then not, keep the dreams away.

The house )
sweetsalome: (Silent all these years)
    He had silently entered his own house the night before, when no one was there to greet him, to make a fuss over him.  Standing in the front foyer, he looked around slowly, not a thing out of place, the great walls and ceiling as silent as a tomb.  Like a giant cat he had stalked through the house, making sure everything was as it should be.  A massive shadow, gliding over chairs and carpets, all seeing, all knowing.  The shadow beast settled himself in one of the massive high back chairs in the living room, glass of scotch in hand he listened, he waited.  He waited a long time before this, there was nothing wrong with waiting a little more.

Fool me once . . . )

Snap shot

Aug. 27th, 2008 11:53 pm
sweetsalome: (Blown wind)
   The wind through the trees is beautiful, it makes a soothing sound, lifting the waxy leaves that still hold tight to the branches and rub them together.  It takes the scent of the apples along with it, heavy fruit that takes more then just a breeze to move them.  But they give off their smell, luring bees and other insects to them.  Luring them to lunch.  Thick, heavy flies with rainbow colored wings and backs, buzzing around in packs, hoards, thick clouds that cause more noise then the wind in the branches.

At night the other insects start making their noises, to the point where the night, if you close your eyes and stand really still the night sounds louder then the day.

sweetsalome: (Shhh its a secret)
Two
More
Days.


Shhhhh
it's
a
secret.

Dream

Aug. 22nd, 2008 07:54 pm
sweetsalome: (Sleep)
I had a dream about Hiro when I fell asleep today.  First we were in a very big school watching Tyra Banks playing a Star Wars video game (she was actually very, very good.)  While we were there it turned into something of a shopping mall and we were passing dirty notes.  While I was in the section  of clothing that was all white (and variations of that white) I was watching a girl in nothing but a pink towel look through clothes.  She was freaking stunning, great body, still wet from the shower and I was writing to Hiro about how much I'd like to invite her home with us.  She started getting very worked up, and we kept exchanging looks until it was almost like I was just telling her what I wanted to do to her, just by thinking it.

Sometime while I was doing that, Hiro appeared and told me that he was from the future (lol wut?) and that if I wanted to continue I actually had to go over there and say something to her.  I did and . .  .

The dream jumped to this series of shops in the basement of a building.  I know it, I use to go there every morning before school for hot chocolate and a bagel.  Anyway, Hiro is making Chinese food (Sorry IDK) and I am getting my nails done by this woman who seems very nice until she takes off her shoes and I see her nails.  They are inverted American flags and she tells me how every single non-white person is the devil and it's gods will to see that every single minority is wiped out.  YIKES!  That's freaking crazy talk.  And no matter how nice someone looks, that talk isn't nice.

So I let her finish my nails and leave before she can give me a tattoo (I have no idea, it was very anti-minorities too) and get out of there.  The next thing I know, crazy-I'm-going-to-kill-every-non-white-in-America starts hitting on Hiro.  Once again I do that funny trick where I talk to him through my thoughts and tell him that the only way she'd want him is. . . I dunno roasting over a fire or swinging from a tree.


Then I woke up.  I am tired again, O and what's up with getting cock blocked in a DREAM?!  Leave it to my brain to leave out the good stuff.
sweetsalome: (Shhh its a secret)
 He told me once that it was either him or me, and it certainly wasn't going to be him.  It was the morning after one of those fights that I could never remember but always felt.  

      
sweetsalome: (Dark green dress)
    Is anything ever really yours?  Have you ever really thought about it?  I mean, look around you.  Name one thing that you can truly possess, that isn't going to die, isn't going to fall apart.

People pass away, object break, get lost or stolen.  What is truly yours?  It's easy to not care about the material things, and sometimes, even people.  But when you give yourself the impression that something is actually yours?  Losing them is the scariest thing in the whole world.

Maybe Elizabeth Blake was wrong, the art of losing isn't easy.  It's just something we all get use to.

On a more metaphysical note, Jonba is asleep in a box.



Call me, call me,
Let me know it's all right.
Call me, call me,
Don'cha think it's 'bout time?
sweetsalome: (Mask)
WHY couldn't the fucker die?  Christ.  Do I have to do EVERYTHING?!  
sweetsalome: (curly hair shoulder)
    The Collins house is a two story townhouse in mid-Manhattan.  It's location was chosen because it was closer to the office.  Liam Collins hated cars, and the less time he spent in them, the better he felt.  One of his constant worries was getting blown up in a car, or hit by one.  His paranoia was not unfounded.  It was a well furnished house, with thick carpets that covered hard wood floors, and padded the feet of over stuffed chairs.  

Before moving in, Liam Collins had the house professionally decorated, and it shows.  There were very few personal effects around the public rooms, there was a very real feel of this being some sort of display house, that no one truly lived there.  The feeling was not unfounded.

The feeling however was trying to be exorcised by the movement of strangers, of people setting up food, the bar and making sure things were generally in order.  Lights were added, music played, and slowly but surely the grim, empty feeling was driven from the house through open doors.  

Salome watches the movement from the top of the stairs with a rather detached interest, as if she was watching an ant farm behind glass, and not human movement.  She's not sure why she feels this way, except that it is not making her very happy.  Maybe it's nervousness, or paranoia, or a little bit of everything all rolled up into one ball that has settled very happily in her stomach.  

Either way, she forces herself from the top of the stairs and to the bathroom so she can fish getting ready.  

As her attention is turned away from the activity more people filter into the house, bringing balloons and various decorations to make it actually look like there is someone having a birthday.  It looks almost childish, but she didn't choose any of it, and she happens to like the balloons so she doesn't mind.  Ian, her father's right hand man, has arranged all of it, fussing over her as if she was his own child.  He has taken it upon himself to make sure she is well taken care of while her father is away.  

When she finishes dressing, he smiles at her and compliments her on her outfit, she thanks him and accepts a kiss on the cheek begrudgingly.  She's not sure if he sees the gold hoop that goes through her belly button, if he does, he doesn't say anything.  If he does, then she's sure she'll hear about it later.  

He tells her that she's grown into a very lovely woman and wishes her for the tenth time a happy birthday.  All of a sudden she wants to hit him, to shove him away, but she doesn't, she smiles and waits for him to leave.  When he does, she can breathe again.  

Feeling lighter then before, she grins to herself and walks down the stairs to find something to drink.  After drink number one, things begin to look a lot better.  So this is what it feels like to be an adult.

ooc:  I think this is the part of the play where I say something really general like: 'play nice' and 'bendy time applies.'  But I think you all are intelligent roleplayers and know the drill, so stating that would just be over kill . . . oh wait.  Feel free to bring in whoever you would like, the more the merrier!
sweetsalome: (Temptress)
sweetsalome: (Smile)
    I got a party hat, from Hiro!  Thank you very much, Hiro-kun :3  It's one snazzy party hat, which reminded me to get more party hats!  That's right, it's going to be my birthday soon!  It's going to be weird this year, since I am going to actually have a birthday party.  Usually I don't, because it's not something we celebrate around here, but I guess eighteen is a big deal.  Still, I am like, all kinds of nervous about it because lots of people!  In fact it will be the first time that house has been filled with normal people, which is scary. 

Anyway, I am going to have a party!  Food, music, various forms of beverage and no clowns.  Anyone who wants to come is more then welcome, it's August 8th from 8pm to whenever.  Or maybe I should go with the whole eight theme.  8/8/08 from 8pm to 8am.  Weird.

It will be at the house in Manhattan, so I can give out the address as needed.

*muah*

For your listening enjoyment!

Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?
Would you be an outlaw for my love?
If it's so then let me know
If it's no then I can go
And I won't make you
Ooh ooh ooh



ooc:  First, thank you very much Hiro-mun for the party hat, we were thrilled to death when we saw it.  Hah the royal we.  Anywho, the party post will be up on Friday and any muse is welcome to show, though it will pretty much set in the New York verse and actions within the party will be applied to that verse . . . If that makes.  Bendy time applies of course, and all the other great things that we can do on the internet but not in real life.  Any questions please let me know.  :o
sweetsalome: (Jonba)

            It was night, the windows of the house open to let in a cool breeze that made everyone sleepy after the heat and the activity of the day.  Up on the second floor Salome carefully dried off a yawning Jonba, who had just got done with a much needed bath.  Dressing him in his pajamas, she takes picks him up and carries him to his bedroom.  He's sleeping in a big boy bed, there's no crib for him at his grandparents house, but he handles it well, besides some roaming in the middle of the night.  She lays him down and kisses his forehead before giving him his Elmo doll, which he proceeds to hug tightly to his chest.  

    "How much do you love me?"  She asks, kneeling beside his bed, her arms folded across the blanket.  "This much?"  She holds her hands apart about three inches, and the boy shakes his head no.  "More?"  She holds her hands further apart, and the more they spread the more he shakes his head, up to the point where her arms stretch as far as they can go.

    "Do you love me this much?"  Finally Jonba nods and smiles, and wrapping those arms around him she gives him a big hug.  "I love you, John Baptiste, I always will."  Her lips press to his wet hair, it smells like baby shampoo, but she knows in the morning he'll mysteriously smell like pancakes again.  



[Part two tomorrow night. . .]

Crack!

Jul. 31st, 2008 12:25 am
sweetsalome: (big smile face forward)
Okay, just wanted to say that shopping online is like complete and utter crack.  Cute things should not be on the internet, they should be locked behind glass on 5th avenue where I can't get them

Case in point?  These  and  of course all of These

Please don't ask me why I am looking at underwear, I just got the email.  To show that I am not ONLY thinking of under things, I want this.  Rawr. 

that's it, I am stopping and going to bed!  Except cookie monster is currently sleeping on me, so I might just let him sleep here.
sweetsalome: (Chilling)
I wanna go to the golden triangle!  In Thailand, not the bad Chinese restaurant near school. 

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