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Post by TACET MAEWYND on Jul 8, 2011 22:02:10 GMT -5
 As the dame slowly began to stroke the blank canvas, a sudden look of concentration flashed through her usually calm features. The entire shape of her silhouette stood rigid as she favored the silence flooding the room when suddenly her wrist twitched in a most peculiar manner and broke the steady stroke by travelling dramatically to the left. Tacet hissed under her breath; another painting was ruined. The paint, in fact, began to drip from the canvas and stain the beautiful lace sleeve of her dress - creating more anxiety for the artist to endure. She never understood why she still dressed in these silly things - corsets, bows, ribbons and elegant gowns stained in blue. If her old rags of an oversized shirt and men's trousers hadn't been burned from her official adoption, she still would have been wearing them. They were so comfortable despite the fact they appeared completely unflattering on her maturing figure.
A loud sigh expelled her lips as her trembling wrist was hugged to her waist, realizing this condition was growing much worse. Since the beginning of this new month she hadn't eaten for many days at a time and was growing thin, anytime she had attempted to complete one of her artworks - a twitch would develop in the girl's wrist and ultimately ruin it. She couldn't explain why there was this sudden feeling of frusteration and desire to starve herself but she knew that this couldn't go on a day longer, she would have to visit someone. Thank goodness her district was known for clinical services, she wouldn't know what would become of the situation if forced to travel outside. District five and six were almost unknown to her memory as she only visited with the baron when she was quite young. Hardly anyone reconized her appearance but those that could faintly recall the strange girl with startling cerulean eyes knew that she didn't favor talking with others. They assumed it was that she was a shy being or followed the common rule that most attractive younglings obeyed; don't speak with strangers. Now where was that doctor?
It took much strength for the artist to leave her home and wander the wet streets of Panem, neverminding the slight drizzle of rain that was surely soaking her to the bone. She needed to see someone - this instant. Hardly anyone was stalking the streets with her, rather doing the inteliigent choice by staying inside and keeping warm. The many towering facilities reminded her of the prison she must call her home, realizing that souls like her older brother were never meant to be free. She had mentally {yet sarcastically} thanked her depressing thoughts to give her strength to reach her destination. Much to her pleasure, the facility wasn't too far away as her eyes focused upon a building; pushing for only half an hour before finding herself right in front of the entrace. Knock knock! Tacet began viciously rapping the door with her small fist, standing rigidly straight as the rain began to downpour in much heavier blankets. |
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DRAKE ROME
Middle Resident 
district 6
inside I?m treadin? water steady trying to swim ashore
Posts: 4
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Post by DRAKE ROME on Jul 9, 2011 5:33:25 GMT -5
With Doctor Rome currently out of the office, there wasn't much for Drake to engage himself with. The number of illnesses had dwindled over the weeks due to his father's prescribed medicines. Somehow he knew the remedy for nearly any sickness, it was amazing actually. The last bit of information on his fathers whereabouts were a tad bit obscured. Yet if the youth had to guess, the doctor already had locked up early leaving him here in the waning hours that were approaching. But Drake was quite the sluggish being, propping his feat on the waiting room table and paying attention to the mounted television. The pelting drops of rain weren't even heard since he had his attention so absorbed into the pixels that were dancing about on the screen. The show he was watching actually was interesting though he had seen the episode once or twice before.
But Drake's heart instantly skipped a beat as he jumped forward, responding to the repetitive taps on the clinic's door. Company nor customers weren't expected at this hour, so could it be some sort of an intruder? Gingerly rising from his seat, Drake would casually sway towards the door forged out of glass. He could clearly see the drenched girl in clothing that was atrociously outdated. But he made no large leap to come to her rescue, he merely shuffled a bit fast and unraveled a key chain from his pocket. 'Is this woman crazy? How did she even manage to get here and it's raining fucking cats and dogs outside?' His digits weaved between several keys before finally gripping a rather large golden one.
Inserting the key into the hole, he would simply twist it open and allow the women entry by standing aside. He couldn't say he was to turned away by her clothing but had to admit that her style of dress was intriguing. "Sorry, my father isn't in right now but I'm here. Did you need an examination or were you just looking for a place to hang out until the rain clouds stop?" he questioned nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pocket. His eyes danced around her frame, curiously looking her over as their had been some sort of crime scene he was investigating on her body. She didn't seem injured nor ill, so why was she really here?
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Post by TACET MAEWYND on Jul 9, 2011 22:43:03 GMT -5
Tacet didn't find any point in sharing any pleasantries such as a smile or a common wave, rather pushing through the entrance once he had permitted her passage and entered entirely. With a loud shrug after growing used to the sudden warmth of their surroundings, she began to shed the small cloak that draped around her small shoulders and threw it to a nearby couch. It's soiled mess trailed a line of moisture as she continued to do so with her gloves, allowing her bare, malnourished fingers to be revealed to him. The complete process of undressing the outer layer of her expensive clothing took only a few moments before she suddenly stood straight, making herself quite at home.
The young artist sought a place to sit against the same couch she had thrown her cloak on, relaxing against the backside and hoisting one leg over the other for common habit of behaving as a young lady. She was a vision of perfection, in the eyes of many women who had yearned to be as fortunate as she. Finally she had found the time to actually look upon him. This young man who claims to not be as professional like the doctor he serves but could prove of use; after all, she wasn't suffering any sort of wounds. Pensive hues flickered about his frame and suddenly back to his face, realizing just how handsome and young he appeared. Perhaps just the same age as I...
Suddenly controlled by a simple whim; the artist lifted her palm to greet his face and slowly drag her cold fingers across the ridge of his cheek, allowing herself a few seconds more before her wrist gave another nervous twitch. The look upon her face was somewhat annoyed as it provided more pain than usual, causing her palm to cease its ministrations. With a soft whimper escaping her lips, the young woman lifted her head to meet his eyes - desperately pleading that her necessary silence would be ignored and he would notice what was ailing her.
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