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Post by RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN on Jul 5, 2012 22:24:05 GMT -5
 There were times when Tramp expected to just wake up from a really, really good nap. Things were far too perfect, lately. The twins had been born, healthy as can be, and pretty darn cute for babies. She had Xander—granted she’d always had him, she actually had him now, along with Nahnie. Strangely enough, that was keeping her out of trouble for the most part. She still got in her fair bit of trouble, but it wasn’t the same without Angel. Which she had conveniently pushed to the back of her mind, doing her best not to think about it. It was still a hassle to make sure Wes was eating, and not slipping into a depression again. That had been a terrible night, and they did their best not to speak of it. The mention of Angel got mixed reactions from Tramp---she’d look angry for a moment, then sad—then completely change the subject or walk away. If Angel could abandon them that easily, then Tramp could forget she even met the girl.
Just like now—originally, Tramp was starting on her regular way through Central Park, but she passed that bench where she had given Angel a lapdance in public, and veered off in the completely opposite direction to take a new route. She wasn’t ready to handle the ghostly memories just yet, and though she acted like a tough broad—Tramp was capable of being hurt rather easily. So, the blonde took her leisurely time enjoying the sunshine of Central Park, and scarfing down the food the people had to offer. Hot Dogs, that surely contained bug parts and dead rats—followed by an ice cream cone to wash it down with. A hot, sunny day, and leaking down her fingers was melted cream and sugar. Tramp lapped up at the ice cream, and crunched her way down the cone, tossing the wrapper over her shoulder. Peaceful day should wrap up in a peaceful way. Maybe some sunbathing in the nice, soft grass of the park?
Actually, that sounded just like what she wanted to do. And after rinsing her hands off in the water fountain, her books crunched over the soft grass down to the reservoir. Of course, not too close. Anything bigger than a bathtub proved to be a problem for Tramp. First of all, she just couldn’t stand more water than she needed to bathe with. Secondly, she wasn’t a very good swimmer; technically, she wasn’t a swimmer at all. So she tended to avoid large bodies of water on principles. But she enjoyed sitting that close to the small man-made lake, watching the ducks and the people pass by. The way the sunlight glimmered and reflected off of it was rather nice, as well. The sun was starting to go down in the afternoon sky, and with the reflection on the water, the entire area looked golden. Bathed in a yellow hue that made everything seem sharper, more intense, and surreal all at the same time. Something straight out of a movie. Slowly, Tramp lowered herself onto the grass, before stretching herself out. She could feel the warm sun on her arms and legs, and exposed midriff from her shirt. She could feel it on her face, warming her from the inside out.
It even got to the point that she pushed the sunglasses away from her eyes, and to the top of her head to feel the brightness of the sun press against her eyelids. Her fingers lowered to the silver chain around her neck, housing an X pendant on it. It was the first in her collection, but soon she would be adding letters to it. N, for Nahnie. R, for Rose. W for Wes…A……well. The A was going to wait for now. But they were all getting the letters on her necklace, because they meant something. It caused her to snort slightly—Xander was making her soft, sentimental even. Either way, it was sort of nice to have people that you didn’t have to constantly put the fear into. Tramp rolled onto her side, folding her hands under her head, letting the warm caresses of sun move onto her sides. She wanted to pull the heat of the sun around her; it was already ungodly hot outside, but the trees in the area kept it from turning into a boiling pot of misery. The air coming off the water was nice and cool. It was the perfect location.
Tramp was a light sleeper, so the moment she would get too cold, or lose the warmth of the sun—she’d be up and headed back to the dorm. Or at least until Xander or Wes called to find out where she was. For now however, napping in the sun seemed like a perfect idea.
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XERXES HARRISBURG
CHILDREN'S LITERATURE
BARRIE UNIVERSITY SOPHOMORE
PIGLET
MANY ADVENTURES OF WINNIE THE POOH
AWAKENED
just one more bottle...
Posts: 122
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Post by XERXES HARRISBURG on Aug 8, 2012 11:37:19 GMT -5
  The evil was amassing. Piglet had been able to feel it in the veins of this vile human’s body ever since he’d first seized it for his own personal use. The characters were rumbling like thunder in the depths of the literary world, the heroes, the pretty boys, the ones the human beings of the physical world had been brainwashed into loving. They thought this was their world, the little fucking princesses and princes and weaklings. But Piglet was going to show them that they were wrong. The villains were amassing, he knew. The dark powers, the shadows on the wall, the monsters beneath the bed, all were there, all could smell the stench of good, and all harbored the thirst for it. And he, Piglet, had been consigned to the role of the stuttering underdog for far too long. It was time for him to take over the world, to take what was rightfully his. He was no cowardly little pig, no babe in arms. Piglet, protected by his spritely human vessel, was gathering his armies. He had Maleficent, he knew, and though her visions for the world of the future were rarely concordant with his own, her powers and stature as a major villain were a clear asset to him. And he had his minions, his loyal servants scrounged up from the depths of the Hundred Acre Wood. And next? His next step was perhaps the most prominent villain in all of literary history. He was going to acquire the services of the Wicked Witch of the West. His associates had seeked. His associates had searched. His associates had stalked beneath their veils of invisibility, through the long hours of the dark and listless night, flitting across the city and alighting on the rooftops, whispering to him her name, her whereabouts. From the millions of candidates pinpointed across the city of darkness and malevolence, he’d finally found her whereabouts. He’d followed her to Central Park near the reservoir, and once his glowing pink eyes had locked on her blond hair, Piglet lingered at a distance, cursing the nauseatingly conspicuous clothing that his host stubbornly chose to wear at all times during the day. Piglet was a creature of the night, so the style more than suited his necessities, but on the few occasions he chose to inhabit his host during the day, it was cumbersomely impractical. As he watched her lie in the sun, Piglet finally acted. A hideous, guttural cackle emanated from his host’s lips as he began to walk towards her, his host’s boots plodding across the ground. ”My dear friend the Wicked Witch,” boomed his voice, as he reached the young woman and placed a black-toed boot lightly on her forehead. ”Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My fellow villains and I require your assistance. If you’d be so good as to come with me.”tagged. Tramp outfit. click.notes. Sorry for the wait :x credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *
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Post by RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN on Aug 9, 2012 0:40:27 GMT -5
Napping was good. She could feel that fuzzy edge of sleep start to drift over her as her breathing started to slow into an even pace. That's when there was that rude sound that made her brows furrow and caused her eyes to open slightly. Footsteps, and an obnoxiously loud voice. Probably just some Central Park looney harassing people. Closing her eyes again, she snuggled back into the grass before feeling a hard, gritty pressure on her forehead. Her eyes snapped open, and for a split second her face toon on the expression of an enraged tiger as she rolled away from the object, leaping to her feet. Oh gross! It was a shoe. The back of her hands wiped at her forehead, vocalizing her disgust. "What the fuck is your problem, man?" The dirt had been wiped off, but the damage was done.
On any other day, she would have appreciated the eye-candy. However, not only had he stepped on her--he was now sputting utterly cohearant nonsense. Tramp lunged, and shoved him as hard as she possibly could while her lips curled into a snarl. "How about fuck off and go back to whatever nut-house shelled you out. Fuckin' creep." Disgust was still on her face while her green eyes took him in from top to bottom. Great. A loser wannabe goth who decided that pink contacts were "in" this season. Peachy.
"Don't even fucking try to come at me, I'll snap you over my knee you stupid twig."
[/b] Tramp dealt with losers, with creeps. She had no problem sitting on them and breaking in their face, or scuffing them up. But there was a small tick at the back of her head, telling her that she might be in a tad bit of trouble. However, she was not going to call her boyfriend to come to her rescue, and Wes would laugh his way here and back. She was the protector of the group, the muscle. And if she couldn't handle some scene, emo fag--then well. She shouldn't be holding the position of the brawn, now should she? Plus. It wasn't just that he was trying to flirt by stepping on her, or mistaking her. He was staring at her with those creepy pink eyes, talking to her like they were old friends. Maybe he was stronger than he looked? Would he be able to haul her kicking and screaming out of New York? Did he have accomplices? It wouldn't be a far stretch to imagine it to be so, here in New York. Tramp swept her hands down her shirt to brush it off, before flipping her nearly ratty hair over her shoulder and turned on her heel. Mistake number one. "Just piss off you pathetic pig." Mistake number two. She had absolutely no way of knowing exactly who that stupidly attractive body hosted. All she knew was that he could be some serial killer rapist...so some dude who thought she was a prostitute. A pig. Of course she didn't mean it literally...just in that wonderful way that women verbally assaulted men--something she was good at. And today, it probably wasn't the best time to be good at something like that. [/blockquote][/blockquote] --- |
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XERXES HARRISBURG
CHILDREN'S LITERATURE
BARRIE UNIVERSITY SOPHOMORE
PIGLET
MANY ADVENTURES OF WINNIE THE POOH
AWAKENED
just one more bottle...
Posts: 122
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Post by XERXES HARRISBURG on Aug 14, 2012 11:56:06 GMT -5
Now, Piglet was quickly alerted to the fact that something was very wrong with this picture. He, Piglet, Overlord of the Hundred Acre Wood and soon-to-be Overlord of the World, had come to enlist the Wicked Witch of the West in his dastardly ingenious scheme. Said Witch should have been thanking him. Said Witch should have been bowing at his feet. He was offering her a kingdom, a chance to rid the world of fetid hero scum one and for all. How could she resist such an offer? How could any villain resist such an offer?
Yet this delusional woman seemed appalled at the very prospect. "What the fuck is your problem, man?"
”Oh dear. My…problem?” Piglet couldn’t restrain himself; he let forth a swine-like snort. Could such an infamous literary antagonist really be so obtuse? ”My problem, love, is that I, Piglet, Secret Lord of the Hundred Acre Wood, have my sights set on world domination, as I’m sure you are aware. And how could world domination possibly occur without the Wicked Witch of the West, the most prominent magical archetype the literary world has ever known? You came quite close to having that incorrigible Dorothy child’s head on a silver platter, and were defeated only by the unluckiest fluke. Now, if you’ll not waste both of our time on such frivolous banter, I can show you to my headquarters at Astor Place, where my minions and I shall further explain your role in this plan.”
Piglet waited patiently as the little woman continued to spit obscenities his way. Good God, but she was a feisty one, wasn’t she? ”Madam, madam, please, enough of this,” he said as the remarks continued to fly from her lips, his voice showing the first small hint of irritation. ”I am perfectly willing to negotiate reasonably with you, but if such humanity is not possible I’m afraid I may have to resort to more…er, persuasive means.”
[/color] The vestige of a lightning bolt flickered around his fingers, dying as quickly as it had appeared. Shame. And he had been hoping that a minimal amount of pain and suffering would require infliction today. "Just piss off you pathetic pig." Aha. How clever. ”That was your last straw, Witch.” His voice had lost all traces of its cheery demeanor. Piglet felt the rage bubble up inside of him, seizing his legs and forcing them forward. This woman had no right to insult him like some scum of the Earth. He was Piglet, the most powerful villain the world had ever known! Owl hadn’t realized it, Pooh hadn’t realized it, Christopher Robin hadn’t realized it, and now this woman, goading him the way they had, treating him like some kind of child the way they had, well, he would show them. He would show her. He would show them all. Reaching forward with a defiant sneer, Piglet shoved the woman hard, sending her tumbling into the water. tagged. Tramp outfit. click.notes. Sorry for the wait :x credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *[/justify][/blockquote][/center][/size] |
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Post by RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN on Aug 14, 2012 18:30:12 GMT -5
This guy had had one too many drinks from the crazy fountain. Piglet? Hundred Acre Woods? Dude, wasn't that some kids show or whatever? And why the hell was he calling her some sort of witch? Sorry, witches don't exist--only people who can't spell. His way of talking could be charming if it wasn't laced with complete and utter crazy. Tramp had begun to storm away, her back turned she hadn't been able to see the lightening. And she hadn't completely registered the shove of her body that sent her tumbling to the water.
Tramp didn't scream--but her eyes widened as she fell into the cold depths. She had never liked water, and had never learned to swim. She didn't realize how deep the reservoir was, and each time her spread fingers grabbed for the surface, she felt nothing but more water, felt like she was being dragged by something. Bubbles rushed from her mouth as she finally screamed beneath the water, giving way to blackness. The surface of the water bubbled, before going horribly still.
Tramp was vaguely aware of a second presence. The fact that she could think, no matter how distantly lead her to believe she wasn't dead. However, her panicked thoughts came muddled, almost lulled by a deliate chanting. Strong, powerful. Suddenly, on the surface she erupted from the water, droplets spraying the grass as she water continued to bubble beneath her feet, holding her on an aquatic platform. She was soaked from head to toe, and her lips were spread as an agonized scream escaped her mouth. It caused her face to splot, and turn red beneath the tiny rivers of water that streamed along her otherwise pale face.
"You insolent child." The voice was a quiet rage, shrill--not Tramp's lower decible, husky, gravelly tone. The water all but shoved Tramp onto the grass, and she never missed a stride. Her boots slammed angrily on the grass while she dripped, Tramp's unfortunate choice in wardrobe clinging awkwardly to her body. Anger and rage danced through her veins, and her normally green eyes seemed even more vivid. Like emeralds with a light shining behind them. Her fingers were bent awkwardly, shaped into claws, twitching and shaking. She was fighting with the decision to grab him and toss him around like a rag doll, or simply strangle the life out of him. It was moments like this that her monkies came in handy--they were the perfect alternative when she was stuck on decisions.
"I. Was. Sleeping. And you took it upon yourself to lift me from my slumber? You, a little piglet. A lot, nervous little pig suddenly thinks that he can command me?" Tramp's chest was heaving, her heart hammering beneath her ribs. The veins in her neck and arms bulged and throbbed, shruggling with the human emotions of her host. For so long she had been asleep, for so long she had been out of touch with her own rage and anger. To suddenly have it all rushing back was...slightly overwhelming. "Give me one...good reason that I shouldn't kill you where you stand, little pig." Her entire body was a constrained rage, threatening to burst out of her skin. Nostrils were flared, and the delicate veins around her eyes were pulsing a horrible green color. The Witch was all but clawing at the confines of the human body, attempting to tear her way out of Tramp's husk.
What was that whispering in her ear? Tramp's head twitched, and she listened, blinking those nearly glowing eyes at Piglet. It was the husky undertones of her host, someone that reminded her of herself, and her beloved sister. That low tone was repeating the things that Piglet had said in almost a tired voice. Her lips spread in a wide smile, though the rest of her face seemed frozen in that anger. "Your minions? You expect that I'll become one of your pawns in this?" The tone was almost jovial, questioning. Possibly the voice a snake might have, should they be able to speak.
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XERXES HARRISBURG
CHILDREN'S LITERATURE
BARRIE UNIVERSITY SOPHOMORE
PIGLET
MANY ADVENTURES OF WINNIE THE POOH
AWAKENED
just one more bottle...
Posts: 122
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Post by XERXES HARRISBURG on Aug 15, 2012 1:04:27 GMT -5
Piglet lingered by the water, toying laughingly with a lock of his host’s utterly insipid hair. With exactly how much hairspray could the stupid boy inundate his hair without its falling out like that of a cancer patient? But his host’s stylistic choices were utterly irrelevant here. As he watched the woman thrash about in the water like a dying fish, he realized that this was the moment he’d been awaiting for such an inordinately long time. If anything would bring The Witch to her senses, it was this. He waited, hoping that the correct specimen would emerge in due course.
"You insolent child."
Aha. Now the chase was on.
”My dear, dear Wicked Witch.” His voice boomed across the fissures that separated fact from fiction. ”So nice of you to join me. Have we enjoyed our aquatic excursion?” He motioned to the vast lake before them, chuckling to himself. ”Lovely weather for swimming, don’t you think?”
"I. Was. Sleeping. And you took it upon yourself to lift me from my slumber? You, a little piglet. A lot, nervous little pig suddenly thinks that he can command me?"
”Command you?” Piglet’s facial features adopted an almost comically Shakespearean expression of surprise. ”Heavens no. I could never presume to command you, oh great and terrible one.” He drummed his host’s fingers across its forearm with a carelessness rivaling that of his drawl. ”Rather, I desire for the two of us to be…how shall I put this, associates. Colleagues, even. If you are so inclined.” He found himself longing for a wine glass from which to sip elegantly. The two of them could easily have been at a cocktail party.
"Give me one...good reason that I shouldn't kill you where you stand, little pig."
A mirthful cackle escaped Piglet’s host’s lips. Oh, but she was quite ignorant, wasn’t she, the poor dear? Luckily enough, Piglet had the ability to enlighten her. Allowing himself a wry smile, he began. ”One…one good reason, is that it?” He licked his lips as if in anticipation of a fresh, delectable meal. ”Let me give you one. This city, this country, this world.”
[/color] He pointed to the clusters of skyscrapers towering across the water. ”The humans are taking them and moving them away, you see, away from the dusty literary worlds, towards their laughable concoction they refer to as ‘reality’. The universes of lexicon are no longer the revered alternate realities that they once were, for as the internet and media consume these vile creatures who created us, we’re becoming…”[/color] A resentful hiss pushed through his host’s lips. ”…quite forgotten.” ”And so we stir,” he continued, his voice building in intensity. ”We stir within our pages, and we’ve clambered forth from the depths of shelves and cobwebs and basements and ‘For Sale’ signs, and we have brought ourselves into this world, my dear Witch, to show them all that we have given them far too much to stand for being forgotten, stowed away like children’s toys at the end of a long day. But the heroes…they think they can take the world by storm.”[/color] He snarled, frustration flaring within him. ”Robin Hood, Mulan, that bitch Winnie the Pooh, those hot-headed, arrogant fools, strolling around like the world is their oyster, well, I tell you, it will not be that way for long. We will show them, you and I and the others, when we find them, and we piece together our ferocious army of darkness.”[/color] Piglet was yelling at this point, gesturing wildly as if to a crowd of millions, the rage coursing through his host’s veins and out through his words. ”We will show them that they are nothing, that it is the villains, not the heroes, that make a story real enough for the characters to emerge from the page. For we wield the power, we create the obstacles that the hero so valiantly overcomes, we are the darkness through which the lights can shine, and we will show them that for without the villains, dear Witch, there can be no heroes. And with that…well, my dear, the very world will be ours.”[/color] Piglet bowed, satisfied with his harangue. ”So, then.”[/color] He flicked a particle of dirt from his host’s cheek. ”What do you say?”[/color] tagged. Tramp outfit. click.notes. Jeesh, long rambly speech is long and rambly. I’m so sorry. credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *[/justify][/blockquote][/center][/size] |
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Post by RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN on Jan 28, 2013 15:59:25 GMT -5
Heavy breathing, and heart pounding with rage. Each breath out of this child’s mouth only urged her to choke the life out of him. Watch as the light faded from his eyes, and maybe even that wonderful crack as his neck would snap between her cold fingers. However, his words held merit. They told of a story, a new one. Things had changed since she was last alive. And though she hated the thief Dorothy, who had killed her in cold blood instead of leaving her to mourn her sister—the words that people so loved gave her power. Gave her breath. And yet, at the same time every time her words were read she had to suffer anguish of her sister’s death over and over. The pain and agony of dying, over, and over. Like a horrible dream. And for what? To be loved for only so long, then to be forgotten?
The people that had read her words, and made her suffer a thousand deaths—just to leave her in quiet? To make a mockery out of her pain and suffering for their own sick amusement? Oh no. his words fueled a fire, though the rage was slowly ebbing. She had always been quick to temper, and perhaps that was her flaw. Quick to temper, less calculating. Taking the most brash way possible to get the job done. And where had that gotten her? Locked in a book where the murderess Dorothy won over her again and again. So, it wasn’t just her story. The others were alive too. Green eyes glanced around the empty area, before slowly sliding back to Piglet.
A sweet smile then took over Tramp’s face, and her voice gentle. Soothing. “Oh, my little pig.” She cooed softly, cold fingers reaching out to brush along his cheek after he had brushed the dirt off his face. Her touch was gentle, despite her body telling him to throttle the weakling. Her fingers trailed from his cheek, along his jaw as a small sigh escaped her lips. Carefully, her fingers trailed down his thin neck, hesitating at his pulse as she drew her fingers down further. “Tell me…” she purred, tilting her head to the side. “You were in the golden group, cherished, loved.” The ‘L’ word slid from her mouth in a hiss. Love. Her own host knew the word, however there was a mutual distaste for the word. “Oh, how Winnie loved you. The voice of reason within the story. Joy brought to children, simply by your name.” Her fingers trailed his shoulders as she curiously took slow steps around him. Eyeing him over. Thin, lanky. A dress far too hilarious—though her host was dressed no better. She could feel a strength in Tramp’s bones and in her muscle. Her own host was a force to be reckoned with. But what about the Piglet?
“Why do you want to bring about the end?” Each word came out in a gentle tone as she finished her walk. She withdrew her hands, gracefully crossing them over her chest as her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “You are a hero,” She whispered, the softness of her voice gaining that sinister edge once more, “You, on the winning side every time. I would love to know your reasoning. Why such a…ferocious man—“
[/b] She had to pause, humor sparkling within her eyes. Humor the pig for now. “Would want to bring chaos and destruction? You, who have never wanted. You, who always had the best and have never been hated.”[/blockquote][/blockquote] --- |
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