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𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 & 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕟

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥. 𝐀 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚… 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐩𝐡

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The light began to bleed; began to breathe; began to speak

I'm not your son anymore

 An exploration in transcendence, the search for enlightenment, the ache for the divine, the need for belief, the pain of rebirth and the process of change

I am falling like a stone like a storm, being born again

Indie and Selective HOTD/ASOIAF OC designed to explore the Faith of the Seven and plight of the Small Folk

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Independent and Selective roleplay blog for 'Noa' from King of the Planet of the Apes

Human/Dune/ Star Wars/Star Trek and Apocalyptic Verses Available

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                    I’ll miss the sea, but a person needs new experiences           without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens

                              The Sleeper Must Awaken

                  Independent and Exclusively Book Based RP Blog based on                                                 Frank Herbert’s Dune Saga

                                                Written by Lee

[gowesten]

                    I’ll miss the sea, but a person needs new experiences           without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens

                              The Sleeper Must Awaken

                  Independent and Exclusively Book Based RP Blog based on                                                 Frank Herbert’s Dune Saga

                                                Written by Lee

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He's never pressed his wife about her past. He was young too and his own secrets. There was a drawer with a photograph and rosary he had never shown her both which belonged to the family he had lost.

And unlike his wife he wasn't smiling. His face and body were strangely rigid. "What was he doing here, Doll?"

He'd never asked about her past. But he'd been able to intuit a certain wrongness with the way she spoke or more often didn't speak about her old man. It's also not hard to do the math. Both he and his wife are young but she'd been on her own for a good while before they'd met. And Dick reckoned girls like Dolores didn't run away from home unless they needed too.

Their home which was his before it had quietly become theirs had been the first safe place he'd had since leaving St. Joseph's. And he didn't like the idea of someone coming in who he didn't have any reason to trust.

she looks at him through the round frames of her glasses, a small smile ever present on her face. writing the letter to her father hadn't been an easy decision, heaven knows. dick would never truly understand the way she fought with herself over the decision. maybe one day she'd tell him what happened, what transpired that year of her life. for now, however, they would rejoice in the funds supplied to them. the paper envelope is presented with ease, cash and check on display through the torn open top. "four thousand dollars, dick. can you believe it?"

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ᵀʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ

ᴸᵃᵘᵍʰ ᵃᵗ ʸᴼᵁ

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i don't care.

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He was careful to keep steady as she shuffled and rambled. "Dolores. I'm not going to take you on the bike with you pregnant," He said firmly. "You're scared. I get that but he ain't coming back. You're safe. You're okay."

He sat with her awhile repeating that to her over and over even though he was scared too. She reminded him so much of some of the girls at St. Joseph. The same wild eyed fear when this or that priest or nun walked by. Most of the boys at St. Joseph's had been hurt too but they usually carried the pain different.

It ate at Dick that he kept finding the same pain he'd found in there, out here. It made the world feel so small and ugly. Like the fruit of Eden was covered in worms. "Even if we went we wouldn't have anywhere to stay. We won't be here much longer. It's okay."

'We should go." the reaction had been faster than the way her knee jerked when he put his hands on them. She dropped her cigarettes without a care to finish her task in trying to smoke one, her hands lacing in his life a nun entering prayer. it had only been a short time before that He had put his hands on her knees. He had said things that she felt she thought she was far away from. Would there always be bargaining? would there always be that fragile feeling of being twelve all over again?

Whatever high she had been riding on to get through the afternoon with Him there was fizzling out. She didn't like that person she had been while He was here. She didn't like the loud voice she had used with Dick as if she would never get the chance for such volume again. She didn't like how it made a smile all bright and toothy stamp itself across her face.

"There's gas in the bike, or whatever. We leave now, we'd be there. " Her knuckles had gone white from the way she held his hands. She wasn't about to let go. "Let's go."

She was terrified. He came, uninvited, with much more than she'd asked for, with words she didn't not want, and hands reaching as soon as they were able. She couldn't see that he was a balding, fat, small and an old man now. She stood taller than him. She wasn't what he wanted anymore as much as he tried to force that on her.

"Baby can be born in Alaska." the baby would be here sooner than they would get there. "Our little boy needs the great out doors or whatever." she shook his hands in hers, holding on as tight as she could, pleading they could just take the cash and run.

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He sat down with her, suddenly guilty for feeling so irritated with everything. It wasn't her fault her stepfather was crazy. He reached to take her hand in his, trying to stop the shaking. "He scare you that bad, Dolores?" He asked quietly.

He got up when the shaking got worse, knelt in front of where she was sitting and putting his hands on her thighs. "It's alright, Doll. Its alright," He said as soothingly as he could. "You're going to be alright and we'll take that pretty baby of ours with us to Alaska."

She sat at the kitchen table with that envelope crushed against her chest. She just couldn't think of any other way they'd make it.

She didn't realize she was shaking.

"We're going to Alaska. " was all that she said. she set the envelope on the table. " I got us enough."

There it was. Everything her mother had left her, the deed to her old home and a few extra crumpled bills he had given to her in the same breath he berated and belittled her for growing up.

His Lolita, his girl. his his his. Dolores wasn't that anymore. She was herself, she belonged to no one. For the first time in her life, she told him no.

She was free.

"i didn't leave him an address. just sent general post." Still, instead of sending money to the post office he had found their house. " he'd tried to leave that damn car here with us too." She scrunched her nose, trying to dig through her pockets for her cigarettes. She was shaking worse now. She hated that car. She could barely pull the cigarette from the box.

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@mxlouloute

As soon as he left, Dick got up and grabbed another beer from the fridge, his face unreadable but he slammed the fridge door shut afterwards. He knew very little about Dolores' stepfather but all few facts he hated. He couldn't even bring himself to speak to the oldd bastard. Though Dolores was right, tthe creep sure loved to hear himself talk.

"Why was he here?" He finally asked trying not to sound angry. He wasn't mad at her. Butt he was mad about having him in his house.

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@mxlouloute

"You need me to pull over?" Dick asked as he and Dolores trudged down the highway. He'd asked that multiple times now since they left, constantly fussing over her and the new baby.

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Controversial take but everyone is wrong in the miniseries vs. 2005 adaptions of P&P debate. The best version is the 1940 one.

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One great thing about the book is you can literally throw out anything HH says and still consider yourself canon because he's a psycho and a liar so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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starter call

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Plotting Call

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starter call