sweetsalome: (Puppy)
Just because school is off for Christmas break doesn't mean all of her other activities are.  There is still swim practice and ballet, everything in between.  Yeah, they have some days off, especially ballet, since their performance there is some down time before the next big thing comes along and they need to start working on that.  Salome still leaves the house early in the morning, this time for her run with the dog, or attempted run, the puppy doesn't have that whole 'lets run in a straight line with the mistress, yay! isn't this fun?' thing down yet.  So when she starts off on the run, she does only half of what she plans and then ends up carrying the ball of fur back.

It's alright, he's getting better.

After the run, there is swimming and time out of the house doing random errands and seeing random friends.  By the time that she gets back Salome is exhausted and falls asleep sprawled out on the rug with the puppy, cell phone in hand, pretty much a standard practice with any teenager born.

Usually she is more on point, but she is exhausted and didn't even think about where her father and Delilah might be.  Sometimes, it's like ships passing in the night with them.
sweetsalome: (wee!sal big eyes)
Is he sleeping?

He sleeps a lot, even during the day! 

Doesn't he know only babies nap?  Guess not.

Wee Salome learned at a tender age not to make too much noise, well, ever.  Not that she was ever a very loud child but it was easily apparent even to her that loud noises weren't something enjoyable around the house.  Outside was fine, but inside she had to be quiet. 

It's really, really, really, hard to be quiet.  Really, really, really, really, really hard.  Especially when there is nothing to do.

Bear ear between her teeth she does a slow crawl up to the couch and slowly, or as slowly as she can manage, inch up to peer over the edge of the cushion at her dad.  It's all in the eyes, if he opens his eyes then he is not asleep and she can climb up with him and try and get him to do something.  Or at least put a different video in.

She isn't allowed to play with the VCR.  Any more.

Taking the bear from her teeth she lifts it as well and lets it's floppy little legs dangle over his arm and up to his chest till Richard Vasko is nose to muzzle with stuffed bear face. 

WAKEY WAKEY MOTHERFUCKER.
sweetsalome: (blue dress)
The mental and physical prepping for this day was a little uneven.  Not that her dad has a lot of baking equipment, but a trip to Target and that is pretty much taken care of.  Like meeting her birth mom, there was a number of waffling moments in which she considered just backing out at the last minute.  Really it won't be the hardest thing she has ever done, but it felt a little like putting herself in harms way.  Like stepping out in front of a train or a truck with the thought that at the last minute the traveling force would somehow swerve and miss her.

There was almost a feeling as if jealousy wouldn't be the issue but doing or saying something stupid would be.  After their vacation in Virginia, Salome found herself a bit more confident in their relationship.  She was his, and he was hers, there would ever be a way for that to change.  You can't change blood, DNA, what they had.

Not to mention it all going down on a Saturday when all she would rather do is lay about and be lazy, spending a majority of the day in her pajamas.

Not that she isn't in her pajamas now, sprawled out on the couch with head phones in.  Waiting.
sweetsalome: (knees to chest)
No joke, Salome changed her mind sixteen times when trying to decided if she wanted to meet her birth mom.  It wasn't that she was scared but there was a real thought and fear that she would just lose it in the middle of the conversation and she didn't want to lose it.  Her father would get upset at Amanda and it wasn't this woman's fault that Salome can't keep it together.  Without ever sitting down to eat a family meal she was already anxious about how to handle both mom and dad - together.

Not that this woman is her mom, but she did give birth to her and that should be recognized in some way, another thing that Sal found herself anxious about.

She is going to throw up.

Sweaty palms, stomach in knots, yeah, this was going to be a pleasant sit down meal.  How could she be so easy and confident with her father but impossibly upset at the idea of meeting this stranger?  The whole idea of being rejected, that she would be looked at and passed over, again by this woman who she desperately wants approval from.  Her father's love is sealed inside of her, even if she sometimes questioned it.  This is different.

Perched on the edge of a hotel chair, head in her hands she stared at her toes, trying to will herself to take deep breaths and not freak out.  There is no reason why this should be so fucking hard.
sweetsalome: (light green dress)
The hotel cleans up when they are out enjoying breakfast and a morning walk in the beach.  It is sort of nice to come back and to have everything all clean and tidy.  As if they were helping make preperations themselves in their little activies for this afternoon.  It's a nice room, it's nice with the balcony doors open letting a breeze blow through.  It smells like cool air and the ocean and it sounds like families playing on vacation sand.

She is drinking a bottle of water, leaning against the railing, watching the brown blue of the waves crash along the sand and sweep it out into infinity.  The only thing that she is anxious about is getting started, and she tends to hurry, hurry.  Things will slow down soon enough.  A look back over her shoulder at the bed and the little hotel room. 

What a birthday.
sweetsalome: (big sunglasses)
Salome should be used to these little question sessions with her mother, they have been happening for as long as she was able to talk.  Just little sit downs, called, unexpectedly by Susan to talk about her favorite subject: Salome's father.  Sometimes she is incredibly annoyed by them, really, she gives no shits but if Susan wants so badly to know what is going on in Richard's life why doesn't she just bug his house and tap his phone like a sane woman?

It took Salome awhile to catch on, Susan can be subtle when she wants, and there was a certain bitter sadness when she put two and two together.  She didn't want to really hear about her boring day, she just wanted to hear about Richard.  At this point Salome has long stopped caring about her mother.  The reason why she is a daddy's girl is out of necessity, without him no one would pay any attention to her.

Her reaction to Delilah would probably have not been so violent if there was a more evenness in her life.  Oh well.

Whatever, sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a soda she just doesn't want to have to answer any questions about the recent appearance of bite marks on her skin.  God damn, you'd think the girls on the swim team had never seen a fucking hicky before.
sweetsalome: (pink top traveling)
Life is busy and full, there is always something to do, some place to go.

School, home, practice, homework, some lesson, some other extra circular activity on the day planner.  It has been like this ever since she could remember.  There isn't ever a whole lot of down time.  At some point she decided that she was a shark, any stopping would mean she would completely die.

Or something equally dramatic.

Shutting the front door with her hip, she drops her back pack near the front door and continues further into the house, tossing her gym bag into the laundry room without much of a thought before stepping into the kitchen to find food.  Yes, food, there must be something because she is starving.

Headphones in, ipod on, inner debating warring on if she should even bother starting her homework now or waiting for study hall.
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 . . . )
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: (Jonba)
        It's one of those perfect summer days, one that isn't too hot, too humid. Right after a hard, cold rain, that cools everything down and leaves just enough moisture in the reserves for when the sun shines high over head. Salome's Grandparent's house sits on three acres of land, enough for a great back and front yard, but not enough to be considered country. Far back away from the road, it rests on top of a slight incline, that is just right for sledding when the snow falls in the winter. Two stories tall, it's painted white with blue shutters, that get repainted every two years, a task that her grandfather complains about, but always does proudly. There is a front porch and a back porch, maybe some years ago they were connected, but it seems someone had gotten rid of it years before.

On the back porch there is a swing, it's chain rusted and when it rocks back and forth it squeaks. Not an annoying squeak, but steady and simple, it's sound changing with the back and forth movements. It's one of the things on grandpa's to do list, but never seems to get done. There are four old apple trees a few feet away from the back porch, in the spring their leaves turn dark and about mid-summer the married couple talk at great length over what is the perfect time to pick the fruit. In the end, their largest issue is what to do with the apples they don't eat, turn into preserves, or bake into pies. The setting is idyllic, and for the most part, so is life in the Snyder house.

But like most things the exterior does not match the interior.  The Snyder's have an almost rabid hatred for anything to do with Liam Collins, and who can blame them?  The man took away their daughter, and through lengthy court custody battles, have left them with very little money to survive.  Despite the fact that they can't get a third year law student to look at their case, they still hold out hope that they will one day have their daughter back.  It's painfully obvious, and a weakness that is easily exploited.

       This morning, Salome and Jonba sit on the back porch with finger paints and large sheets of paper.  An old book with pictures of paintings sits propped up on the railing.  Salome is trying to convince the boy to make a painting like the vase of flowers in the book.  The boy needless to say is having none of it.  He is much happier smacking his multi-colored hands down on the paper, or just rubbing his chubby fingers around in circles in globs of paint.  Painting is just not a talent that the Collins possess, clearly.  It doesn't seem to matter, the boy is laughing and having a great time of it.
sweetsalome: (Spin!)

        “Cliff diving, in Acapulco?”  Hiro gives her a look as if she’s lost her mind, it’s not an uncommon look, but she still gets frustrated when she gets it. 

        “It’s not like I am asking you to walk across hot coals, plus we’re with a group!”  Oh yes, the local who looked like a bum but was highly recommended by one of the hotels in town.  That really doesn't make him feel better about the situation, especially not after the waivers they have to fill out.

        “Hey, I ate the intestines when we were in China,” she reminds him, leaning over to take a peek off the side of the cliff at the crashing waters below them.  Grabbing her, he tugs the blond back to stand beside him, on solid ground.

       “Yes, but pig intestine will not kill you!  This could kill you!”  He was pained to even have to explain this to her.  “I do not understand why you are surprised at my response.”

Turning to him, she puts her hand on her hip and gives him a very serious look.  “I’m not going to die, I’m going to live to be a thousand years old,” for some reason the number keeps going up when she speaks to him.  “And you are too, which is why it’s perfectly safe to jump.  Nothing can go wrong.”

 “That’s not even logical; do you know how crazy you sound sometimes?”  But she is grinning, and despite the death jump in front of him, he manages a slight smile as well.

The trainer explains how to correctly jump, and that there would be a boat that would collect you after you surfaced.  After joking that he had never lost a person . . . yet, he asks the group to form a queue.  When there was only one other person in front of her, Salome begins to get a little nervous. 

Turning to Hiro, she sighs and takes him by his shoulders.  For a long time she doesn't say anything, just looks deep into his eyes as if she is searching for something.  Grinning she leans up and kisses him quickly, “I’ll see you at the bottom, okay?”

Before he can say a word, or pull her back, she steps away and disappears off the edge of the cliff.  The instructor motions for Hiro to come forward, as he moves he seriously wonders what possessed him to go along with this idea.  There was no turning back now, and at the signal, he jumps.

sweetsalome: (Red dress)
    It was a nice, warm summer night, the sun had gone down and it had cooled down to the point where you could sit outside and not sweat.  The drive in, was two screens, a parking lot, and hills that surrounded the parking lot and gave a perfect view of the cars and the screen.  Salome had walked from her house, and bought two tickets before climbing up on one of the hills and spread the blanket her grandmother had given her.

A grandmother, yeah that was still weird.

Sitting down on the blanket, she put the basket down next to her and took out a bottle of water.  Once she took a long drink, she text messaged Hiro to know that she was there.  Hopefully he would be able to spot her.
sweetsalome: (Up close)
    Leaving the house never looked so appealing before.  Salome was tired and aching, and everyone was on edge from what happened the night before.  Not to mention the constant stream of phone calls and attempts at the press to get an interview or a photo.  She couldn't leave the state, especially with Jonba so going upstate with Bobby was a good, safe idea.

Picking up the blond boy from the floor, she grunted a little bit at his weight against her side and arms.  He grumbled a little bit, but she gave him a look before handing him his Elmo doll and took him back upstairs to her bed room.  Stepping inside she smiled at Hiro as the boy hid his face against her neck.

    "Don't be shy, it's Hiro, he's going to take us on a trip."
sweetsalome: (Refined)
[ooc:  Bendy time, whatever time, etc.  Post contents are subject to change after review of other player.]

    She refused to tell him where they were going.  He said to surprise him, so she would, and no amount of begging or tickling would ever break her.  Earlier that day she had made all the correct reservations, a car from his apartment to the Getty, and then to dinner.  The reservations for dinner, and everything in between. 

After her hair appointment (the mess really was getting to long, and needed a good trim.)  She napped, and then dressed for that evening.  Despite the fact that she was normally always in shorts or a tank top, she really was a girly, girl.  The outfit had to be perfect, and planned out in advance, getting ready took awhile so she tried to plan it out so that she and Mortie wouldn't need the bathroom at the same time.

The town car out front called her cell phone as she was putting the finishing touches on her hair.  Stepping out of the bathroom, she grabbed her purse and the ever patiently waiting Mortie.  Apologizing for taking so long, she waited for him to lock the front door before showing him the car.  It was how she had been driven around the majority of her life, and she was pretty sure Mortie didn't want to sit in a filthy taxi.

In the back of the car, she finally relaxed, still a little nervous she kept staring out the window, sneaking glances over at Mortie before looking away again.  She had no idea how she was suppose to act, polite, grown up, don't fidget, don't giggle too much, and sit up straight!  She went through the list of things NOT to do in her mind as they drove to the Getty.

The showing was very low key, there was a classical quartet in the corner playing music as people milled around through the various exhibits. There was a bar, and in the center a table with bits of cheese, and various small finger food that people were picking at.  It was for members of the Getty, but Salome had managed to get tickets after joining and making a donation.

Salome took her time looking at all the paintings, studying the beautiful works out art, some of them she had even seen in her book.  If the actual paintings weren't in there, their painters were, it was amazing to see something she had only read about come to life.  It was the first time, besides in sleep, she had been silent for so long.  It felt wrong to talk around such Master pieces.

Time flew by, and the next time she looked at her cell phone, she realized that their reservation for dinner was coming up.

She found Mortie to tell him, and to show him back to the car.  The ride to Matsuhisa was silent.
sweetsalome: (Bikini)
    Salome never really got out of her bathing suit, oh for bed time and for general school she changed, but during the day clothes were optional.  Especially on hot days like this one, leaning on the door frame, she chewed on her lip and shifted her bag and towel from one arm to another.  It was dark outside, and so she hoped the pool would be empty, who else would be swimming at night:?  Glancing outside, she sighed and then looked back toward the bedroom.

    "Mortie!  C'mon!"
sweetsalome: (resting blue shirt)
    Casual.  That was the key word of the night.  At least that's what she told herself.  Kissing Mortie and falling asleep in his arms had been simply wonderful.  She couldn't remember the last time someone had been so considerate of her age and her comfort level.  Still, she was nervous that she would some how frighten him off, that they would move too fast and all of a sudden he would bolt like a frightened horse.  She didn't want to do that, not to him, and she would do anything in her power to keep that from happening.

Still, it was hard to think casual when she could still remember the kiss they had shared, the one that still made her heart race and her stomach twist up in knots.  She couldn't think of that now, and thus refused herself to think of such matters.  The funny thing about that was, once you told yourself not to think of something, that's all you can think of.

So she went swimming.

Hours later she was at his door, movie rentals and illicit sourpatch kids under one arm while she tried not to fidget.  In typical girl fashion she was late, and had gone through six different outfits before she decided on the one she had on.  She still didn't like it.  Her hair was down, with the slight curl it got when she let it air dry.  Shorts with a long sleeved blue top, with a tank top under that, was what she had chose, but standing there she worried if her shorts were too short, or her top too low cut.  She didn't want to give him the impression that she was trying to seduce him, even though that's what she wanted to do.  Badly.

Shut the fuck up, Salome, she told herself.

Clearing her throat as if she was about to make a speech she simply lifted her hand and knocked.  It was anti-climatic.

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sweetsalome: (Default)
Salome

February 2013

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