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Post by Donna Jordan on Oct 2, 2011 20:10:44 GMT -6
 ![]() PICTUREHARR!! 430 x 240 works the best [/IMG]  [/center]
It had been ages since she had been here -- literally. Donna hadn't set foot in Poland since fleeing all those years ago. It held so many bad memories that the empath had sworn that she would never return. But here she was, leaning against a old birch tree in a city park less than fifty miles from where Peter had died. It wasn't the same city, thankfully; that was still too much of a stretch for her.
There wasn't anyone around, which had been the point. Special powers were useful enough, when you needed them, but you would think they'd devise an 'off' switch. Feeling what other people were feeling was easily overwhelming for Donna, especially in a place that held as many bad memories as Poland did. She had ducked and dodged through the crowds upon arriving in the city -- the crowds being not even close to what they had been before the war -- and ended up here, all alone.
Donna smiled wryly, digging the toe of her combat boots into the ground. She would be able to feel anyone approaching, so she didn't need to be paranoid about being snuck up on. Slowly, she shifted her weight until she was standing upright, then adjusted each piece of clothing meticulously. First the long trench coat was unzipped completely, then shucked and folded over one arm. Donna rebuttoned the cuffs of her collared shirt, shifted the position of her belt an inch to the left, knocked a tiny piece of dirt off her left shoe with her right heel.
Then she put the coat back on and zipped it up all the way. The high collar covered more than half of her face, and the remainder was shielded by her bangs, so Donna was fairly unidentifiable. Keeping her eyes on her feet as she walked, she wandered over to a park swing and sat in it, pushing herself off from the ground with a mighty kick. It had been decades, the human realized, since she had been on a swing. A tiny smile touched her lips: Peter had been wonderful.
He was her adoptive father, but the only parent she had even known. Some short amount of time after her birth, both her parents had been murdered by demons, but she was left alive. Peter, along with a search party, had found her and raised her in a small building that they shared with four other human families. Childhood had been such a nice time: all the kids in the building would run and play and laugh and the parents would sit by, watching and telling stories...
When Donna was little, that is how she imagined she'd be living her life when she was an adult.
Reality was very, very different from her imagination, though. She had grown older, graduated from high school, then college, then was on her ways to a doctorate. Peter was always there, of course, and he always seemed as young as the day he adopted her. With just one year to go before she was officially Dr. Donna Marie Jordan, the unthinkable happened.
Donna dug her heels into the wood chips suddenly, stopping the swing and jumping off, annoyed at herself for taking a stroll down memory lane. She was in Poland to look for work, not to reminisce about things that she couldn't change. She could avenge them -- and by God, she going to do just that -- but not right then. First off, she needed work. It didn't matter what kind, but she had been hard pressed to survive as of late. Humans and non-humans turned her away: the first because she wasn't an ungifted human, the second because she was a gifted one. Some werewolves had once even decided not to kill her just because she was an empath.
Sighing quietly and tucking her chin farther into her coat collar, she headed deeper into the park, following a rough gravel path idly. Every so often, she reached up to rub the back of her neck: there was a long, 's' shaped bruise across her upper back. Earlier that day there had been a few wild kids running through the streets. One had stumbled while passing Donna and struck out wildly, hoping to catch ahold of something. All that he encountered, though, was her back, and his arm had left an oddly shaped bruise that made it uncomfortable to turn her head too much to one side. Kicking up gravel as she walked, Donna fell to thinking again, becoming less and less aware of her surroundings.
TAGS! Samira
NOTES! ^-^
INSPIRATION! paralyzer by finger eleven
CREDITS! Template Byarro @ Caution!
LYRICS! Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3
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Post by Samira on Oct 4, 2011 17:52:21 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][cs=2][atrb=style, background-color: #ada7a0; width: 475px; border: 0px solid #ada7a0; padding-top: 8px; padding-bottom:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-left:0px, bTable]pleasure to meet you, prepare to bleed, rise, i'll rise, i'll rise, skinned her alive, ripped her apart, scattered her ashes, buried her heart, rise up above it, high up above it, and see, pray to your god, open your heart, whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark, cover your eyes, the devil's inside, one night of the hunter, one day i will get revenge, one night to remember, one day it will all just - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - end What a lazy day. Though lately, it felt as though she had quite a few of these. Traveling wasn't the most exciting thing in the world. Yet she was ready to revisit her homelands, just to see what happened to them. Last she heard they were plagued with war, but that wasn't unusual. War was born there, after all (so it was a pretty fitting birthplace for a demon such as herself). Perhaps it was something sentimental that was pulling her toward those lands. She couldn't tell. Samira wasn't exactly the sentimental type, she just didn't have those emotions. Then again she was, in a sense, human for a time (or at least as human as a demon could be), so there was always that chance.
Well, whatever, she didn't want to dwell on it. She let out a yawn as she walked down the street, locking her fingers together and stretching her long arms high above her head. The streets were full of people (most of which were shorter than her), seemingly untouched by the recent uprising. The demon was tempted to cause a bit of chaos. If she found nothing else to do by nightfall, then that was exactly what she would do.
Somehow her footsteps led her away from the bustling streets and into a rather deserted park. In her opinion, it was a stale and boring place. There was nothing of interest around here. Though, mere moments after that thought crossed her mind, she noticed someone wandering around. Normally that was nothing worth her attention, but the person had a trench coat which obscured the lower half of her face while her hair covered what was left. If anything, it looked shady, but that didn't seem to be the case.
Curiosity piqued, the demonness darted forward. If anyone had been watching her, they would have thought she disappeared. Sa "reappeared" directly in front of the young woman, the claw of her index finger cutting through the zipper to open the coat and reveal the woman's face. She was a very average looking woman, though prettier than Sa expected. "Why hide such a face?" I'M GONNA BRING HIM TO HIS KNEES tagged donna words 354 notes a bit of godmodding, let me know if you want it changed credit mine betch. |
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Post by Donna Jordan on Oct 4, 2011 19:48:25 GMT -6
The first things to cross her mind were Polish curses, some of which escaped her lips involuntarily as someone appeared right in front of her. She hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings, true, but she sure as hell should have been aware of someone coming. But there she was: a tall woman, right in front of her, holding aside Donna's trench coat collar to expose the pale face beneath. The human couldn't stop a shiver running down her spine, especially when the woman asked, "Why hide such a face?"
From Donna's perspective, this was a very odd thing to say. From anyone's perspective, in fact, it was an odd occurrence. Clearly, the woman wasn't human. No human moved like that, not even gifted ones like Donna. Secondly, non-humans didn't usually initiate conversations with those they considered to be lesser. Thirdly, Donna was fairly sure that she had done a good job of keeping herself uninteresting. Maybe she was just a silly human, but she wasn't stupid, and usually she wasn't approached at all.
After a second, Donna lifted her chin, deciding that she might as well be brave about it. "Human," she said boldly. With one hand she grabbed the collar of her coat from away from the woman's hand and put back in place as best she could while stepping back cautiously. "We don't get out all that much any more. Besides." She stared at the ground as she pulled out her gloves, yanking them back on as quickly as she could. "I don't like being noticed."
She looked the woman over carefully. Dark skin, fairly tall, a jagged scar over one eye. Donna found herself with her eyebrows raised: perhaps the woman was a demon. Certainly she wasn't a vampire; Donna knew vampires as soon as they got within fifty feet of her. Everyone with a phobia was like that -- an arachnophobe would know right off if they were somewhere near a spider. And while she wasn't exactly afraid of vampires to the point of phobia, they gave her chills.
Worrying her lip unconsciously, she adjusted her position slightly, shifting her weight to the left and putting her gloved hands on her hips. "My name's Dr. Donna Jordan," she said. She was damned if she was going to stop being polite just because the world was ending. "May I ask what yours is?"
TAGS! Samira
NOTES! bleh short post T_T
INSPIRATION! gives you hell by all american rejects
CREDITS! Template Byarro @ Caution!
LYRICS! Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3
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