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Post by emiliomarcuccilli on Mar 4, 2008 6:07:18 GMT
Don't turn around
Tagged: Viktorya Dina Egorov
Downstairs in the basement, Emilio had his music playing loudly so that way that was all he could hear. It was the anniversary of the day that his father had married Toni's mother. Emilio had really missed her. She was the closest thing to a mom he had. The more the memories flooded his mind the harder he would punch on the punching bag that was pinned to the floor and ceiling. He had been at least for almost three hours. He stopped punching the bag and let his hands fall to his sides for a moment as he closed his eyes. He walked slowly over to a chair that was in the basement. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair. He wished every year that she would wake up from her coma but she hasn't. He didn't understand how someone that was so happy and had so much to live for just end up this way because of some moron who wouldn't pull over at the hotel for the night.
He sat down in the chair and propped his elbows up on his knees. His hands held his head up as he kept thinking about how much he wanted to change everything. On how much he wished that his ungrateful father was the one in a coma or even better dead.... six feet under. Anger began to boil up under his skin. He got up and began to take out all of his anger out on the punching bag. He wished so much that this punching bag was his father... for his sake.... for Toni's.... for everyone. He stopped when he saw a picture of his step mother reflected at him in a mirror. He stopped the punching bag and leaned his forehead against the bag. He
Sweat rolled down the side of his face and onto the floor. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He needed to get out of this basement. He needed to do something just not being here and killing his body. He stood up straight and began to take the wrapping tape off of his wrists. Once his hands were free he throw the tape away and walked over to his towel that was on the back of the chair. He picked it up and wiped his face off. He leaned his head back and took one more deep breath and closed his eyes. He stays this way for a few minutes before pulling his head forward again. He began to wipe off his bare chest and arms to remove any of the sweat that was on his skin off. Normally he wouldn't do this but there was also two girls that lived in this house again too. He set the towel down on the wash machine as he headed towards the stairs.
He climbed up the stairs and opened the door to the kitchen. He walked into the room seeing that it was empty or it appeared to be empty. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. He then leaned down and splashed some water on his face to get himself to relax. He took three paper towels and dried his hands and face. He throw the paper towel away and then walked over to the refrigerator. He pulled out a gallon of orange juice and set it on the counter. He closed the fridge with his foot and then walked over to the cabinet where the glasses were. He grabbed one and walked back over to the counter. He poured himself some Orange juice and then put the orange juice back. He leaned his backside against the counter as he stood there looking out the french doors and onto the patio.
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Post by viktorya on Mar 4, 2008 23:17:25 GMT
The stone door felt like ice as the young girl walked through it and on to a small porch. The withered wood showed it's weary true color from under the layers of chipped paint. The sky was a menacing shade of grey, and the fact of the matter was, the nights happenings were all held within it. If only she were phycic. Then maybe she would have seen it. Through a small alley and up a brick avenue. The wind led her there, as if it knew what she wanted and whereshe could find it. The Russian air was stale and cold. Thick with moister, the streets were vacant . . .
Viktorya slammed on the brakes as a red light stopped her in her path. She could see an old, decrepit woman staring at her from a car on her left. Piss off. She was headed to her new home. Her new home in San, so far away from Zima, her hometown in Russia, where she had spent so many years. It was her decision to leave, and she had to make the best of it. Her heart raced as she slammed her foot to the gass petal, leaving the previos moment behind in a cloud of musky dusk. She had three other roommates. Ywo guys and a girl. If only Taras had come with her. She had tried to convinve him, but he was just so stuck in his old ways. What a pain it was to leave her twin brother behind. It tore her to pieces, but she needed a new start. San was it. If only her family could see that. She could picture their Russian, sculpted faces staring at her, burning holes in her back as she left, for good, perhaps.
The white lines were guiding her home and their familiar pattern of here and there were mesmorizing. The familiarity acted as a calming agent, insuring her saftey and speed. She was almost home. She drove through the rows of hoses and anxiously scanned the rows for 41, Sanglignée du Nord. There. She spitted it among a thciket of brush. She pulled her tattered baby blue Volkswagon Bug into the stepp driveway and made her way to the door. Hopefully one of her male roommates were in to lend her a hand with her luggage. She didn't have much.
Viktorya hadn't yet recieved the key. It took her a bit of time to pick the lock, a skill she had grown very used to. She looked through the empty rooms, hoping for a living soul to be around. She ran into the kitchen, maybe a but faster than she had hoped, when she heard the refridgrator door slam shut. A few peices of paper flew off of a nearby table, being violently bullied by the draft of wind her sudden dash had left behind. She was trying not to use her powers. Tainted or not tainted, she had to have rules for herself. She couldn't just do whatever she liked. In the kitchen she found a large man leaning aginst the counter, starring out on to the patio.
"Hello," she said, smiling shyly, "I'm Viktorya, your new roommate, and sorry to sound rude, but could you please help me with my luggage. It's not much." |
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Post by emiliomarcuccilli on Mar 17, 2008 22:31:21 GMT
Emilio was looking out at the patio thinking just how bored he was and how much he didn’t really want to go out tonight. He knew that tonight would be a great night to go out but he just didn’t think he was up to it. He heard a voice that he had not recognized or heard before. He smirked as he knew it was a chick. If that meant that another girl was living in the house besides his sister Toni that meant it might be a free fuck buddy that lives in the house. But he wasn’t going to be all hard and acting like the jerks that Toni always talks about. He looked over at her and nodded. She might have needed some work done but maybe Toni could do her little magic like she always does. Maybe the girl was just having a bad day either way she still had potential.
“Not a problem.” He said as he took one more sip of his orange juice and then set the glass down on the counter top. He licked his lips to get all the juice off of it. He stood up straight as he slowly walked over to her. He was so used to doing this. So many girls would be like this all because they would pack their bags way too full so that way when it came to moving it around they had to ask for assistance.
“My name is Emilio.” He said as he stopped in front of her and held his hand out for her to shake. He knew that he had to be polite to her and everything since she was going to be living here. He didn’t want to create drama in the house so that pretty much meant that she would be a no fuck buddy of his. Maybe somebody else’s but not his.
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Post by viktorya on Apr 1, 2008 23:51:01 GMT
OOC: Sorry it took so long. 
The man, who Viktorya discovered was Emilio after his introduction, agreed to help her with her luggage. She eyed him skeptically. He must have been a body builder or something of that sort. Though, it was possible he led a very boring life and had nothing better to do than pump iron all day. It wasn't of her concern, anyway. She had to be very careful around her roommates. She'd have to watch what she said and did because, after all, she'd have to live with these people for a while.
Viktorya wondered what life in San would really be like. She had left her family and everything she knew back in Zima. She was quite a ways away from Russia now. She'd have to swallow her fears and make the most of it. She had made the choice to leave her home behind. She needed a new, fresh start, though. And what better place than a small village by the seam
Viktorya hadn't really thought about her abilities. Since discovering that she was tainted she hadn't really worried about it. After all, it had been years since she first realized she could move at frightening speeds. She had to be sure to keep her abilities under control. She didn't know how prominent the tainted were in San, and she definitely couldn't afford to be the center of an epic controversy. She'd have to keep a low profile.
Realizing that she had spent a bit too much time thinking to herself, Viktorya quickly turned on her heel and headed back out of the kitchen and to the front door. She waved her hands, signaling Emilio to follow. Outside her small, ragged car stood out among the stale concrete. She was here now. She was home, well, as close to home as she could possibly be without cracking under the constant pressure and exploding in a violent rage of uncontrollable speed and anger. Viktorya sighed, as she hosted her largest bag from the trunk of her car.
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