Unwritten [EverlyxSansaStark]

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Everly, Jul 29, 2015.

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  1. Sophia set her bag on the bed and took a look around her new home. She had purchased the property site unseen, going only by the word of the realtor and the pictures that had been posted on a website. It was exactly like the pictures. A small home that had seen better years but was definitely livable. The shutters were either crooked or missing from the windows, but the glass was intact and the sills were nice and solid. She pushed one open to let in a breeze, making a mental note that curtains would probably be a good idea. Not that she had to worry about nosy neighbors - she couldn't see a single building near hers except for in one direction. That was the town. She forgot the name. Something Irish-sounding..

    Get a grip, girl, everything around here is going to be Irish-sounding..

    Ireland. A fresh start. She knew basically nothing about this country, other than stories about leprechauns and how everybody was drunk all the time. Judging by the stern looking security officer she had seen at the airport, the drunk part was false. She still held out hope for the little men in green who would give her a pot of gold. Or was it three wishes? She'd be happy with either one at this point.

    "Curtains.. and bedding. Definitely bedding. I wonder how cold it gets here at night.." she mused to herself, sitting on the mattress to test how comfortable it was. It was nicer than expected. The home had come partially furnished, which suited her just fine. Taking furniture had not been an option, and since she didn't have a vehicle, she really didn't want to drag a bed here from town. She had been provided with a sturdy mattress sitting on a solid wooden frame, a nice dresser, and a kitchen table with three chairs. Nothing else was necessary. She hated television and was content not having one around. Chairs were useless - she'd never have company anyway. The only thing she wished for was a bookshelf, but that could wait. She could always stack them up against the wall as she got more.

    She focused on unpacking. Clothes, a few books, one notebook, and cash. That was it. Everything else had been burned beyond recognition. She didn't even bring a photograph along with her. All of the things that she could not bear to part with forever had been locked away in a safe deposit box under a false name - one that she wasn't currently using. They would be safe. She had nothing else that mattered. No family to speak of, no true friends that would bother searching for her beyond a post or two on the internet. There was no point in searching. She had been declared dead.

    It had been freeing at first, but now she was realizing just how much work went into becoming somebody new. There was the new license, then a new passport. These things did not come free. She had cut her hair and dyed it back to her original color, giving up the blonde she had become famous for among those that knew her face. Gone were the glitzy clothes and sparkling jewelry. Now she wore a simple pair of jeans and a white blouse that she thought gave off a 'perfectly ordinary' vibe. She glanced in the mirror on the wall, then pulled out her notebook to make an official list. No use forgetting anything.

    Curtains, bedding, shower stuff, toothbrush, toothpaste, and food. That should be good for now, right? Right. She took a deep breath and picked up her purse, tucking the list inside next to her wallet. A few minutes later she had set off down the road, leaving her new home behind her.
    • You Get a Cookie You Get a Cookie x 1

  2. Jaime had always considered himself a patient man. In his life, he had dealt with an incredible amount of frustrating things that would infuriate the mind of a less-tolerant individual. Jaime, however, was always calm and level-headed, despising aggression of any sort whether it's internal or external.

    However, there were always certain days when the beloved woodworker woke up in a foul mood, one that he couldn't seem to turn off. Those were the worst mornings. He would awaken grumpy on the wrong side of the bed and be unable to recover for the rest of the day.

    Today, unfortunately, was one of those days. And he couldn't seem to find a way out of it.

    I don't have time for this. Jaime stood frowning in the long line at McGregor's Grocery, frustrated that there was only one register in operation with such a high traffic rate for the current time. He sighed and ran his fingers through long brown hair, holding the can of purple paint in his arm and tapping his foot. No one could hear him over the soft music playing in the surroundings speakers. He sighed and looked at the six people in front of him, watching the cashier slowly drag one item after another across the scanner.

    I have things to do, he thought, groaning under his breath. I really don't want to be here right now.

    But Jaime was far too kind and shy to ask the people ahead of him to step forward. His own limitations irritated him but he supposed if he wasn't willing to do anything about it, he may as well remain calm for the sake of his own sanity.

    "Jaime!" called a familiar voice. An elderly man who Jaime recognized as the chief of police in town approached him with a friendly smile. "How are you?"

    "Fine," he replied with a small sigh. "Thanks for askin'. Yourself?"

    "Good, good. Didja hear there's a new person in town?"

    "Really?" Now that was some interesting news. "Where at?"

    "She took the cottage out in the eastern meadows. I thought I might send ya out there later to help her fix up the place."

    Jaime sighed. He truly was on a schedule, but he couldn't deny simple requests such as those. He was the town handyman. "Sure. I can do that."

    "Great. I'll set up a time with her when I see her next."

    "Okay." He stood in line and waited, until he noticed a brunette he didn't recognize enter the store with a lost expression on her face. "Hey Sheriff," he said, pointing. "That her?"
  3. A grocery store. Finally, something familiar. Sophia glanced around to get her bearings, then picked up a basket and put it over her arm. Food for tonight and tomorrow would be good. Maybe a few days if they were small things. The more she bought at once, the more she had to carry back. She had a feeling she would be walking here frequently. At least she wouldn't get fat. She smiled a bit at the thought and looked down at her list to remind herself. She'd get whatever she could in this store, then move on and see if she could get everything else elsewhere.

    As she wondered down an aisle, she found herself wondering if the people in town spoke English. It wasn't a question that she had even thought to ask the realtor. Now that she was thinking about it, she thought that it was a very silly oversight. People in Ireland spoke English, right? They must. She sighed and picked up a box of pasta at random, gazing at it without really seeing it. This was so hard. She longed to just run away into a cave somewhere and curl up in a fur blanket. Hibernation sounded like a marvelous idea. Sleep half the year away. There was no good reason that humans couldn't do that.

    Bears had all the fun.

    "Stupid bears," she muttered to herself, setting the box back on the shelf. She had to focus. Meals for several days. Back home that would mean stockpiling Ramen and a jar of peanut butter. Here, she wasn't sure. What did Irish people eat? Corned beef? Potatoes? Skittles? Leprechaun intestines?

    Damn it. Let's move to another country without researching it at all. Just take off, buy a house without seeing it in person, drop into a town. Hey, what's up? Oh, you know, just wandering around without a drop of common sense. Yes, I'm American. I know, it's obvious.. Please don't kill me in my sleep..

    Sophia bit back another sigh, turning to go down a new aisle. Somebody else was in it. A woman, who seemed harmless enough, but she skipped the aisle without pause anyway. No point in putting herself in a situation that required interaction. The less she spoke to people, the better. She knew that getting familiar with anybody would likely undo all that she had worked for. If anybody found out who she really was.. She frowned sadly, poking at a glass bottle on a shelf as she debated buying it without knowing what it was.
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