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Flesh, ice cold, milk white was like rubber as the nurse cleaned the butcher marks left by the young Constable’s murderer. The pungent odour of death tainting the air, suffocating the honey-haired sweetheart. “You were so young, I’m so sorry ...” It was only her in this morgue, her and the corpse of Raziel Selmy, a boy she had been told was an upstanding member of the community, now he would be remembered as the man slaughtered at a memorial. 

Hearing a knock rattle the door snapped the nurse from her saddening haze, snapping off a rubber glove, Rory parted scarlet lips, “this area is for authorized persons only.” She had been warned by Lauren Gray that the killer may try to visit, may try to admire his work like an artist admires a painting. But how could anyone be so stupid? It was probably a patient or even a visitor, lost and trying to find a room, either way the golden-haired nurse opened the door of the morgue, ocean hues falling over the figure across from her. “Hello, can I help you with something?

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dissiiident:

It wasn’t hard to spot the girl, between her hair and her white dress, she was so out of place in this dirty, male ridden club house. Ocean hues looked her up and down before a smile found it’s way to his lips. “William Murphy? He’s your brother. Well damn. He ain’t here, love. I’m sure he’ll be back soon, if you don’t mind waiting?”

A smile as sweet as cherries and coated in sugar curved upwards on the blonde-haired nurse’s lips. “Is it that hard to see the resemblance? I’m Rory Murphy, I certainly hope my little brother has mentioned me before.” She extended a petite arm to the biker, surprised by his hospitality. Bikers had always been painted as amoral criminals who drank too much liquor and slept with too many women, dirty and corrupt, but she did not indulge stereotypes much. “Thank you, Sir. Would you mind showing me a place I could wait? If it’s not a burden, of course.”

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Scarlett Johansson for W Magazine (November 2012) by Steven Klein

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dissiiident:

“There something you need, darlin’?” 

Men of Mayhem, that’s what the sign read, the patch on his leather vest and every other mans, she was out of her element to say the least. Despite both Bobby and her brother patching into the club, standing there, amidst the Harley’s and cigarettes, the golden-haired babe felt tiny. “Uh ...” Her ruby red lips and little white dress had nothing on this place. “Yeah, sorry to disrupt you from ... whatever it is you’re doing, I’m looking for my brother, Will ... Murphy.”

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“One of the best things for a woman to hear is that she is sexy.”

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harmonynightingale:

“I suppose you’re right . I’d just hate to offend anybody. This is the nicest dress I’ve got other than the ones I perform in.”

“It’s beautiful, really, wear that and you won’t be leaving this event alone.” The honey-haired nurse curve scarlet lips into a playful smile. “Oh, you must be a member of the show then? I have never been myself so please pardon my curiosity. What is your act?”

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lapisjetsoninfreakshow:

Emerald hues turned away from the other woman, that red tint still showing subtly. “I-I, um… I just need to get back, is all…” Lapis frowned slightly; she had nowhere to go back to, technically speaking. Sure, she could go back to the freakshow, but she never truly felt safe sleeping in the tents. “I’m sorry for bumping into you…”

It didn’t take an expert to see the girls expression, her baby pink lips painted in a frown. “Back where? ... It looks like the whole town is here.” She didn’t mean to pry, didn’t mean to appear curious. But the girl was just that, a girl, and her behaviour worried a nurse with a body made of motherly bones. “Don’t worry about it, darling, bumping into someone is no crime.”

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themonstersamongus-rp:

“I wanted to write ‘stay’ on your sides, surround your bed with oceans of salt. I hope he folds you into a fox, loves you like a splintered arrow, brandishes the kill of your lips. May the bouquet of your hips wither. May the wolves forget  your name.”

Meet AURORA ‘RORY’ MURPHY, she is TWENTY-EIGHT years old and is a NURSE in Jupiter. Rory is sometimes confused as SCARLETT JOHANSSON and she is unfortunately CLOSED.

WE ALL HAVE A STORY, THIS IS RORY’S.

The golden-haired darling struck the Earth with a ray of sunshine on March 12th, 1925. Born a week late, little Aurora Murphy was to be the first and last daughter of Johanna and Jackson Murphy.  It would be an understatement to say the sweet angel was loved as an infant, she was completely and utterly adored, not only by her mother and father, her king and queen, but her two knights who would hold a sword to the throats of any man or woman who dared to touch a strand of her honey hair. Her brothers, Raphael and Jackson II, or Jax as he became known to avoid confusion with his father were and remain Rory’s protectors. From the moment the baby girl was brought home in a baby pink blanket with mittens to match, the boys’s bright eyes lit up, Raphael perched beside her crib every night to read her fairytales about princess’s, prince’s, knights and monsters. Telling the newborn that she was the princess and any monster that waltzed into her life would be banished by her knights, Raphael and Jax, or as Rory would call them ‘Ra and Ja’ unable to pronounce much more than a one syllable word. 

When she was five years old, Johanna made another baby on the way and Rory was to become a protector to this little babe just like her elder brothers were to her.  That is when William Murphy was born, becoming the fourth and what Johanna and Jackson planned, final addition to the Murphy family. Planned, plans do not always play out the way we anticipate and for the Murphy parents, a fifth addition to the clan was blessed with the love of a trio of elder brothers and a single sister, little Caleb Murphy in the year 1934, 4 years before an attempted genocide that would tear apart a family, that would leave five children orphans. 

After fifteen years of a family tighter than the gold curls on Rory’s head, happiness was to be demolished as the year 1939 would steal every flicker of sunlight to grace the Murphy’s lives. World War II had broke out, Germany had fallen submissive to Nazi rule, the world was in pure anarchy. To any ordinary citizen passing by, the Murphy children would appear in a safe haven from the death camps that were executing men, woman and children by the thousands. But while they embodied the ideology of white locks and crystal eyes, their blood was of a mix, a mix between Johanna’s German heritage and Jackson’s Polish family. It was their blood that would cause their charming appearances to be omitted and their unity to be broken. 

One year into the war and the Murphy’s were holding on by a string, Johanna’s German heart and the Murphy’s psychical characteristics the only factors that allowed them to survive this long, but that survival was soon to come to an end as their family home was invaded mid-May 1940 at the hands of the Gestapo. The terror in that moment could not have been explained, the moment when the home you have been raised in, you have cherished is completely torn to pieces by strangers with weapons and liver-coloured coats. Rory’s cartoon eyes watched as her parents were snatched from each other’s arms, her father acting as a human shield between evil and his five babies, his life the only thing standing in between the children and the men. The five Murphy children were to escape, their father was to sacrifice himself, another plan, one that did play out the way it should, but Rory wished did not. She was alive, but her father, her light was not. 

In a time when hiding the Gestapo’s most wanted in your home was a crime punishable by death, the newly orphaned babies found refuge with their neighbours who hid the children in their basement. It was no home, colder than a Russian winter and littered with rats and spiders, but it was safe, it was home for the next two months. Rory and her brothers survived off rations and were given two mattress’s to share between the five of their bodies. Despite the conditions, Rory’s neighbours became her saviours, became the lights that had risked their lives for the lives of five kids who were nothing more than the honey-haired darlings who lived across the street. 

Two months that felt like two years had passed and the neighbours were able to locate a boat, a boat that would travel from Germany to America, sailed by the American military it was designed for children, to take the innocence before evil took it before it had a chance to live. Fifteen year old Rory and her brothers become residents of the basement of that boat along with two dozen other children, all parentless, all orphans, all who before this had it all, had a family, had a home and now, had nothing. During it all, her knights protected her, Raphael and Jax, twenty-four and eighteen became the father figures to Rory, Will and Caleb, sweet Caleb, only five, with no clue to what was happening, Rory became the woman of the family, the mother figure. 

Arriving in America, they were told they were in Florida, the soldiers referred to it as the Sunshine State, but there was sunshine that Rory could see, none but her brothers, the rest was a sheet of darkness. Raphael, being the eldest had already completed a degree back in Germany, a law degree that the children became dependant on to make them some much needed money, to buy them the food they desired, the roof they needed. For weeks, they lived in a home for orphan children, all before Raphael saved up enough money for an apartment. It was nothing spectacular, the cheapest money could buy, but to Rory, it was sunshine. To have running water, a bed, a fire, food, it was an apartment send from the gods. But maintaining it was another matter and the struggle to make meats end was what prompted Rory to take up a nursing course she saw advertised at the supermarket. During sunlight she was a mother, raising Caleb and Will like they were her own, during the nightlight she was a student, studying the human body, the biology needed to be a nurse.

The darling could not catch a break, surviving on three or four hours of sleep a night, but she was reminded everyday that she had survived worst. Soon she became a qualified nurse, all those tiring night classes paying off as she was able to put a few extra dollars in a pocket to bring home to her princes, her brothers. Her first duty was to patch up the war veterans who returned from the horror of war that Rory caught a glimpse of back in Germany as an innocent bystander. But these were the men who risked their lives in order to save people just like Rory and her brothers, if it wasn’t for those American soldiers who had sailed the boat that allowed the Murphy babes to find home in America, they would be dead. For that, Rory owed the military much more than what she could give, but regardless, she painted her lips ruby red, curled her golden locks and gave the brightest smile to the injured men who arrived in Florida from the hell of war.

She tended to many soldiers, dressing their wounds, soothing their pain with sweet lullabies. But it wasn’t until a brunette Scottish solider came to her gentle care that she took a second look at a solider. Robert McTavish was what his ID read, but Rory came to know him as Bobby, her darling Bobby who told her her blonde curls were sunshine and waking up to them was the best sunrise he could ask for. Rory hummed any tune he desired and stayed by his bedside even when he slept, that is when she knew she was in far too deep but she did not mind. She indulged Bobby completely and after his release from her care, she did not stop seeing him.

In fact, she itched for the clock to finish so she could visit her sweet Bobby, their relationship coated with sugar soon became laced with poison when the affects of war took over Bobby. The gentle passion had vanished, only to be replaced with Bobby’s chapped lips that were stained with whisky. His suffering made their relationship suffer and Rory was no longer Bobby’s as their meetings were no longer made of delicate kisses, but venomous word spat back and forth between the pair. As much as she desires for her Bobby to return, she fears that sweet solider she fell for has been replaced by a man whose liquor and bike are more valuable than she.

WE'RE ALL JUST A LITTLE BIT.

Despite never carrying a child in her own womb, Rory is the embodiment of a mother, a warrior carved of golden richer than her locks. Being forced to take your baby brothers under your wing at age fifteen will do that to you. She may be protected by her dear knights, but she herself is a protector, a healer. A woman who will put the needs of others before her own, who will fight for those she loves, the honey-haired sweetheart enjoys her work and despite the horrors she endured in Germany, she is still as sweet as sugar, not allowing a slither of bitterness in her bloodstream.

WE ALL HAVE A FAMILY.

Raphael Murphy: The father figure of the Murphy’s, the protector of the honey-haired kids who were left as orphans, Raphael would go to hell and back for his family. Rory will forever look up to her brother, her knight.

Jackson ‘Jax’ Murphy: Jax has always saw the sunshine in his sister and never fails to remind her just how hard she has worked for their family and how grateful he is. Due to both their occupations being in the medical field, they often share a drink after another day of healing at the hospital. 

William ‘Will’ Murphy: Will and Rory were once the yin to the others yang. now Rory is at a lose with the fourth Murphy babe. His rebellious ways proving to be overwhelming for the blonde nurse, fearing she may lose her little brother to crime.

Caleb Murphy: The baby of the Murphy family, Caleb is more like a son to Rory than a brother. Only five when the Murphy babies were left orphans, Caleb was far too young to understand where Mama and Papa were, why he and his siblings were living in a basement for months. Rory is the woman who pushed aside the tragedy to be the warrior Caleb needed, providing for him and getting him through school, food in his belly, clothes on his back.

Robert ‘Bobby’ McTavish: Bobby is the man who is inside Rory like a pulse, the sweet solider whose hearing impairment and battle wounds were nursed by the gentle hands of the goddess. Their relationship once as tender as their kisses is now a venom. He is the fire and she the gasoline, causing an explosion so raw, so toxic yet laced with a breed of love. Either at each others throats or between each others legs, the nurse and the biker are trapped in a circle of lust and loathing. Despite the arguments, the hisses, the cries, Rory still hopes that a slither of her Bobby, that darling soldier is somewhere inside the biker whose liquor has replaced his love.

Sienna Murphy: Her darling niece is Rory’s universe. Fleeing Germany with two year-old Sienna forced the nurse to raise the baby girl like she were her own. With Raphael working the long hours he did to keep the Murphy’s alive, playing mum was Rory’s role. She is protective of the now fifteen year-old, perhaps a little too protective.

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mctaviish:

[ late night lovers ]

Robert awoke with a start in the middle of the night, his bed soaked through with a cold sweat, messy brunet hair stuck to his forehead and flicking out every which way, his heart almost beating out of his chest. He rarely slept properly, and when he did, his dreams were plagued with nightmarish images–the fallen soldiers, the frightened children and the destruction of war. Drinking himself into a blackout was the only way he found solace, a dreamless sleep, free from the horrific flashbacks haunting his unconscious mind.

There was a distinct notion he got occasionally (today being one of those days) that drove him to get out of bed and pull his clothes on and head out to chase the moon on his 1940′s Harley. He had nowhere to go but still he drove, weaving the familiar roads in the moonlight, equating the relaxation to the cool wind that brushed past his form taking his stress along with it. Even though Bobby turned to alcohol, it didn’t compare to this feeling; it was the exact opposite of War and of his daily life, there was nothing to stress him here, the scenery was beautiful and the night quiet–even though he’d lost hearing in one ear, he still preferred the quiet of the night over a crowded room.

Only one thing gifted him the same sense of quiet relaxation (aside from his Harley), and that was Aurora–but he was sure they’d called it off for the last time. He couldn’t stop by her home at this time of night, could he? It would be inconsiderate, she’d never let him in. Despite telling himself this, his body acted on autopilot and about turned his motorcycle, blindly leading him to the familiar driveway that he’d seen so many times before.

When he pulled up, he turned off the engine and propped the vehicle up accordingly. He pulled his helmet off, tucked it under his arm and hesitated for a moment, finally limping up the porch steps and to the door, rapping lightly on one of the wooden pannels with his knuckles. He couldn’t gauge how she’d react to seeing him on her doorstep at this time of night, but he could only hope she wouldn’t turn him away–he needed her right now. There he stood in the cool night air, his navy overcoat pulled tightly around him with a strained smile held on his face, simply waiting for her to answer.

Baby blue irises watched as the tiny, black minute hand ticked over, time slipping through her dainty fingers faster than she could grasp it. It was well into the night, other bodies that laid like islands were amidst a dream, others a nightmare. A soul or two making sweet love in the morning hours and perhaps another just finishing, entering that haze of bodies moulding together in the most perfect of curves before falling asleep in each others arms. Then there was the honey-haired darling, bright eyes wide awake, no soul beside her to indulged upon, nothing but a bed and no one to share it with.

The sound of an engine was enough to snap Rory out of her thoughts, enough of picking at her own brain. She knew exactly whose Harley had arrived outside her house, whose knuckles would tap on her front door in just a moment, Bobby. The last time she had seen the brunette it ended with venom, words laced with poison shooting back and forth before one of them stormed off, vowing to never see the other again. But they always found their way back to one another.

Maybe she shouldn’t have left her bed to answer the door knowing it was going to end with their hands around each others necks or their lips caressing each others bodies. She hoped for the latter, but expected the worst, after all, her darling Bobby was merely an illusion, the man before her was a shell of the man she knew, a shell that smelt of liquor and tobacco. 

“Bobby, it’s late ...” She began, lips stained with the cherry lipstick she had worn the previous day pursed, she could never say no to him, not when he wore that broken smile and hurt eyes. Her petite hand reach out, fingers caressed his cold cheek, he didn’t even feel the solider she had given her heart to. “You’re freezing, come inside.” Words peppered with sugar fell from plump lips as Rory closed the door behind the man.

“You know whisky won’t help you sleep better, darling and you certainly should not be riding with that shit still in your system.” She should have bit her tongue, but she could not. Her words were not meant with malice, they were meant with care, with love, she was a nurse, a healer. But of course, they would not be recognized that way, she knew the subject was a red-zone for Bobby, a trigger, but she could not stop herself, her ruby lips have a mind of their own.

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harmonynightingale:

“Is it in poor taste to wear red to the memorial?”

“It’s not a formal funeral, right? Then, probably not.”

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your name was more powerful than any empire, but it could not stop your fall.

gods do not have to be fair || a.c (via mhythology)

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lapisjetsoninfreakshow:

;; in the memory of the living

Lapis awkwardly made her way around the crowd, hoping not to be too much of a distraction. As somebody who knew what it was like to experience loss, the young blonde did feel a small amount of sadness, though at the same time there was apathy, for she didn’t know who had been lost. Knowing she truly didn’t belong here, she tried to make her way back out of the crowd, but instead bumped into somebody, much bigger than her, and a soft red glow crossed her cheeks. “S-sorry.”

Feeling the knock of another body against hers, crystal eyes that complimented the glistening full moon that floated in the sky on this bitter-sweet night. The petite honey-haired darling who bumped into the nurse couldn’t have been much younger than Rory’s youngest brother, causing her motherly wings to rise. “Oh, don’t apologise, the crowd is much bigger than I thought.” Velvet coated words left cherry lips. “Are you okay, sweetheart? You look a little, on edge.”

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I try to stay fit and eat healthily, but I am not anxious to starve myself and become unnaturally thin. I don’t find that look attractive on women and I don’t want to become part of that trend. It’s unhealthy and it puts too much pressure on women in general who are being fed this image of the ideal, which it is not. I think America has become obsessed with dieting rather than focusing on eating well, exercising and living a healthy life.