A beautiful, sweet, drug smoking philanthropist.
“You just don’t understand me!” With that a door slammed somewhere in the house, followed promptly by a shriek when the door was forced open, probably with a foot.
Angelica curled the blankets around her tighter, hoping that they would forget she was there, at least until the morning. She knew that if she could hang on until the sun began to rise everything would be alright again.
The fights were getting worse. She had long ago learned to put anything she valued into her own room, unless she liked broken things. She remembered with sadness her prized ceramic unicorn that now resembled a horse after a lobotomy.
“Don’t you dare start crying now you slut!” her father roared. As far as Angelica could tell her mother had slept around again and her father was less than pleased. Not that that fact made him the good guy. She had enough bruises herself to know whose side she would pick if she had to.
Just then, as if on cue to her thoughts, her door crashed open. In her musings she hadn’t noticed the footsteps in the hall, her mistake was not pretending to be asleep. They usually left her alone if she was sleeping.
“There’s my little slut daughter, come see what your whore mother has done now.” Her father, an unusually large man, dragged her roughly from her bed and down the hall. The living room was a mess, there was broken glass, torn clothes and even blood this time. Her mother was in the corner crying, nursing a cut on her arm.
Angelica looked at the scene quietly, trying desperately not to cry. “Well is it going to be you or her?” her father asked evilly. With horror Angelica realized the words “I’m sorry” had just escaped her mother’s lips.
“So that’s 10:30 in the morning on Tuesday then. And just a colour, no cut?” Work was fun as usual. This was her dream job, she had no interest in actually cutting or colouring hair, but being near those that did was a blast. She worked at the Cutting Edge salon in the downtown core. A rather posh position for someone just twenty one.
After work she went to Starbucks and got her favorite drink, a Vanilla Bean Latte. It was a small pleasure she allowed herself for a good days work. She nearly skipped home, this was going to be a good night, she was going to her friend Tracey’s birthday party. Of course she had to stop on the way and get something to make the party more fun.
Probably E tonight.
She went to her usual dealer, Nick had the best stuff in town, he was also the priciest. But tonight was special. As he opened the door she noticed he had a sinister look in his eye. She thought about turning around, but she had to stay on his good side, it was the only way she could avoid her tab turning into a debt. They sound like the same thing, but not to a dealer.
“Well hello there my sweet. I was wondering when you would be stopping by. I wanted to go over your tab, see if we can’t pay it down a bit.”
Later that night, spent from her day at work and her payment and partying later she flopped down on her pretty pink comforter. Her entire apartment was pink actually, with bright white lace to break it all up. An interesting contrast to her dark thoughts.
That night she dreamt of broken glass and a small voice that said “I’m sorry”
|Manifested Geist (Phantasmal Marionette)|
|Marionette Rating:||Intimidation Bonus / Activation Successes: +1||size: 5|
|strength: X||presence: X||geist-body:|
|dexterity: X||speed: 7||Weapon Bonus: +0 (L)|
|stamina: X||flight:||Geist body weapon discription|
|Homunculus (Elemental Marionette)|
|Marionette Rating:||Months / Activation Successes:||Element:|