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 Posted: Wed May 27, 2009 8:19 pm
ยป The Purchasing of the Oil: Outside the grey building, which was currently silhouetted rather fittingly against an overcast sky, the middle-aged man's chest rose and fell with a sigh of utter despair. Maybe he was overreacting, or maybe he wasn't reacting enough, considering the situation. He would leave it up to someone else to decide the appropriate amount of freak-outage, because hell, he certainly couldn't muster up enough brain power at the time to do it.
"Good god." His words came out as an almost-strangled sigh. "Out of the iron-maiden and into the lava pit." He tugged at the suddenly too-tight collar of his crisp, pressed dress shirt, brow furrowing in a discontented sigh. Of course, of course his boss would pick him to take on the Ridley case. Rubbing the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand, he tightened his grip on his suitcase and began to make his way down the concrete stairs.
Twenty-three. Male. Found in his parents' house when the police came after receiving a call about two gun-shots; both dead, his prints on the gun. It seemed like a clear-cut case, but his boss had insisted there could be something else to it, that it was "too easy". Richard, he'd said, his voice booming. Get in there.
Heel hitting the bottom step, Richard shook his lowered head, adjusting his glasses when he lifted it again. "Yeah, okay," he murmured, feeling that his suitcase somehow seemed heavier than it did when he'd come to work that day. Gods, he needed to relax.
Cars ambled along the streets, driving slow because they were in town. Richard had parked right outside the office, but before going home, he thought he would try to walk a bit and clear his mind. It would be dangerous to drive when his mind was so occupied, because hell, he already drove like a madman when he was alert. How would he drive with his mind preoccupied?
Shoes not fit for casual walks clicked against the sidewalk, and he was aware he looked a bit ridiculous in the crowd, all dressed up and dandy. A mess of red hair curled messily about his head, generally manageable but on hot days, untameable. He didn't even bother to brush it during the summer, only carefully trimming it when he had the time. Now, it stood out like a sore thumb among his monotone attire, and he felt more than a little awkward walking down the dreary street.
A sign, ornate in appearance and with large writing, caught his attention. It was swinging with a 'creak, creak' outside the door of a shop, and, knowing the marketing ploy of "big text pretty picture" had sucked him in, he made a sharp right to peer at the door.
It was annoying as hell to have someone enter a store right before closing, he knew, but something about the atmosphere, so calm through the glass, beckoned him to just go in for a minute. Incense, huh? It couldn't hurt to give the stuff a try. After all, he'd been the one to tell himself he needed to relax, right?
Pushing open the door, he wiped his feet on a mat and took a look around. Immediately, a sweet scent wafted through the room and to him, and he let the door gently click shut to keep the scent in. Momentarily grounded, he closed his eyes and tried to discern the scent's name. Orange? ... well, maybe... no, cinnamon? He let out a baffled scoff, opening his eyes. He must have smelled two different scents; no way could he be that off.
When he brought his eyes up, he looked into a woman's, and nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Ah! E-excuse me," Richard stammered, feeling his face heat up. Great. He'd done something embarrassing and there had been someone to witness it. Although seemingly amused, the woman said nothing and rested her hand on her cheek, smiling. After a moment of awkward, awkward silence, she finally asked, "Looking for anything in particular?"
... right. Right! He'd come here looking for incense, apparently, and he was keeping her here when she could have probably gone home a few minutes early. Nervously messing with his tie, he mumbled an "I'm not sure," glancing around the shop again. Incense was known to invigorate or relax people, and God knew he could use a bit of both.
Finally, his eyes rested on something that seemed just right.
"... that?" he asked, pointing toward an oil scent box on the third shelf. It was labeled 'Arabian Spice' and sounded so exotic, he couldn't resist. He knew scents like vanilla or rose wouldn't do the job, but something strange and powerful might. He was shaken from his thoughts when he saw her rise from the corner of his eye, crossing the room to pick up the box.
"Good choice," she mused, holding the box up to the light to inspect it. "Want me to wrap it up for you, then?"
Giving his tie another tug, he nodded. Before he knew it, he had paid for the incense and the burner, and was on his way to his car, feeling somewhat dazed by the whole experience. He had no intention of spending money when he went in there, but somehow, he'd managed to purchase two things!
Unlocking the door, he set the bag in the passenger seat and climbed in, muttering to himself about "Ridley," and "strange incense ladies."
Ah, well. His day would get better. If not that, then hopefully his week. Adjusting his glasses, he began the long drive home, thinking he might give Bastien a call soon.
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 11:25 am
Lighting Prompt (Required to reach Lit Scent stage) You have just purchased an oil burner and a specific scented oil from the Solace Scents shop and you can't wait to light it! Now that you're home, it's time to find the perfect place to light that scent! However, strange things seem to happen when you do... particularly with the smoke...
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2009 1:19 am
ยป Lighting the Scent: What a day. He didn't know how many times he would say it before it truly sank in.
It was monotonous, really. The life of a lawyer wasn't nearly as exciting as games like Phoenix Wright made it - although, admittedly, he loved to play those games to unwind - and it seemed like it was the same thing every day. What had happened to the passion he'd had for the job when he first started? Hell, he was helping people. He loved going to work. Now, he felt like work was more and more of a chore than anything.
As soon as he passed through the door, the familiar scent of his home comforted him at once, and he let himself relax a bit. Having no penchant for cooking, tonight would be the same as most nights: TV dinners and a book. But, he thought, peering at the bag he'd brought in with him, maybe tonight will be different. He didn't see what benefit becoming 'energized' at night would do him for the next day, but maybe it would give him good dreams?
Heh, he could only hope.
Stuffing the frozen dinner into the microwave, Richard set to work preparing his incense. He'd read about incense before, and he knew the dangers of lighting it too often - a higher chance of cancer, according to studies. Then again, what didn't help increase the risk of cancer nowadays?
Chuckling, he held up the pack up to read the directions on the back. Light the candle. Simple enough. Sounded like something even he could do.
When he lit it, the scent didn't waft through the room immediately. Rather, it was almost gradual, and he took care to find this out in the scientific way; leaning back and wafting it toward him. He couldn't really describe the scent. He wasn't used to exotic things, anyway.
It was nice, though, he noted with a small smile.
At the same time, the microwave gave off several dings.
"Well, food's here," he announced to no one, standing and heading into the kitchen.
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Posted: Thu Oct 01, 2009 9:00 pm
Awakening Prompt (Required To Reach Child stage) Having run into your last ounce of oil, you mournfully place it into it's burner and light it, letting the aroma spread throughout your home happily. ------ [For Those Who Want To RP Witnessing The Event]You leave for a moment, deciding you felt peckish after smelling something so wonderful, and grabbed a snack from your kitchen. When you return you witness something absolutely amazing. The end result of the incident being a child on the floor of the room. Describe the sight, and the reactions of both you and the child at the end of it all.------ [For Those Who Want To RP Finding The Child Only]Having remembered something you needed to do, you ran out of your home quickly, forgetting all about the burning oils inside. You return content, having completed your task only to find a small child wandering the halls of your home, leaving oily foot steps behind, leading to a cracked burner, and split candle wax. Describe your reaction, and how you deal with the oil tracking child.
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 11:06 pm
Awakening Prompt You leave for a moment, deciding you felt peckish after smelling something so wonderful, and grabbed a snack from your kitchen. When you return you witness something absolutely amazing. The end result of the incident being a child on the floor of the room. Describe the sight, and the reactions of both you and the child at the end of it all.
He wanted to know what heaven tasted like, speaking of which.
As eventful as TV dinners were, Richard didn't feel very inclined to sit and stare at it for too long. As he peeled back the wrapping, he took note of the assortment of "nutritious, delicious foods" - some peas that were still partially frozen, mashed potatoes that looked like they may have recently been vomited up, and, yet - thank God, there was always a 'yet' - he found solace in the Salisbury Steaks stacked haphazardly in the largest portion of the container. They were the only things that looked even close to appetizing in the entire meal.
"Awesome," Richard sighed, giving the potatoes a poke with his fork. "Dinner looks great." He was careful to grab at the corners (who hadn't burned themselves before on the blasted things?), pinching them and hoping the droplets of water didn't slide onto his fingertips. Blast! They had. He took quick baby-steps toward the living room, prepared to sit down and watch television - ha, TV dinner while watching TV, that was... no, it wasn't - when his eyes landed on his oil burner. It was just about out. He felt regret, he realized. Not because he'd miss the oil burner that much for being an oil burner, but because he was going to miss the scent, and he was going to miss pretending he was somewhere else until he got off his a** and bought more.
As he set his (wonderfully delicious) dinner down, a loud crack resonated through the room, intensified by the lack of other noise. He jumped, casting a look around the room. His first instinct had been the window; no, not that. He then checked the lamps; nothing. Finally, as he was making the rounds again, he stopped and stared oddly at the oil burner.
The once-pretty cup had split down the side, although there was no oil to drizzle out now. In the bottom the gold coins remained - those had been a nice touch, he'd thought - shimmering in the lamplight. They seemed undisturbed by the sudden crack.
Come to think of it, hadn't the oil burner been emanating some kind of smoke recently? That might have explained why it was so easily spread --
Crack!
The flame went out. The room stood still, save for the last bit of curling, red smoke, which seemed to... expand? as it spread through the room.
Well, this wasn't normal.
At once, his eyes and mouth were forced shut with the sudden expansion of smoke, sparkling and red as it filled the room. He couldn't even cough, which was a sure sign he was truly choking (great), and he waved his arm awkwardly in front of him in an attempt at "beating" away the smoke. It didn't work.
He thought he was going to pass out. Surely, the oil burner had burned the glass or something, and had caused it to crack, and... and something inside had exploded or something and sent smoke all over the room. He was going to die of smoke inhalation. It was almost beautiful. Richard, the stubbornly-drug/cigarette free Lawyer was going to die of smoke inhalation. Was there really a place in Hell reserved just for lawyers?
... come to think of it, if he was gay and a lawyer, where the hell did that put him?
Before he was able to find out, he gasped as the smoke began to clear. The smell lingered - god, it was stronger than ever - making his room smell like it was fresh out of Aladdin. His eyes watered and burned, but he rubbed them and blinked rapidly, hoping to see the damage.
Dyed walls, definitely. Burnt furniture... maybe.
A kid?
.... what.
Sitting on the floor was a boy, coughing and pounding his own chest with a fist. Richard immediately took a step back, mouth hanging open while he watched the kid hack up a lung. Finally, he came forward, kneeling down in front of the kid (who, he decided, looked very, very Arabian, which didn't seem so strange, considering what he'd just seen).
"Uh..." He swallowed, tried again. "Uh... hello? How did you get into my house?" Wait, that was stupid of him. It would probably be wiser to ask, Do you speak English? He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, flinching when he was met with a scathing glare.
"Who are you?" he demanded, voice laced with what Richard could only assume was a very, very exotic accent. He hadn't made the connection of Arabian Spice and Child yet. The boy slapped his palm onto the floor, only wincing barely when he did so. Still, Richard adopted a look of sympathy, reaching a hand out.
"That must've hurt! Are you okay --"
"Who," the boy began, his voice low, but not without the unmistakable sound of terror. "Are you? And what am I doing here?!" Panic rose higher into his voice, and he immediately scrambled to his feet, prepared to run at the slightest sign of attack.
Richard's hands shot up in a surrendering pose. "Whoa, whoa! It's okay! I'm... I'm Richard. I live here. And I... don't know how you got here." Okay, that was probably the weakest answer he could have given, but he felt that this boy only wanted the bare, most essential details. Okay. He would deal with this, step-by-step. Had to be careful.
A kid just appeared in your house, Richard, he told himself, watching the boy carefully. You don't know who he is, how he got here, or what happened to your oil burner. Also, your dinner is getting cold, if it's even edible after all that smoke. What now?
The boy inclined his chin at Richard, and the two studied each other for what seemed like forever. The boy, with a critical and suspicious stare; Richard, with a bewildered, cornered-animal look. Somehow, he felt it should have been reversed.
God, god, GOD, his head was swimming, and it hurt from intense smoke-inhalation. Was this all just a hallucination? He broke their locked stare when he noticed the boy wince, lifting a foot carefully. Bits of glass had scattered around him, and a few were poking out of the bottom of his foot - he had stepped on the oil burner. Horrified, Richard forgot who he was dealing with and hoisted the boy up, bridal-style, to carry to the bathroom. The boy, of course, kicked and screamed the entire way.
"Shush!," he barked, immediately feeling a horrible twinge of guilt for the look he got from the boy. He dropped his tone, setting the boy on top of the toilet, seat down, naturally. "I'm sorry, just... let me get that glass out, alright? We'll worry about who you are and where you're from once I'm sure you're safe."
With the reluctant permission of the Arabian boy (who was very strange, he concluded), Richard set to work pulling the pieces of glass out, wincing along with the victim.
Great. He'd probably need stitches.
Well, so much for dinner.
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 10:05 am
I feel like... I want to re-write everything. BT
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