[claypigeon]

ɴᴀᴍᴇ; Leisl O'delle
ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(s); Lee, Oddie & Delly (Oddie is the most common used)
ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ; biologically female
ʙɪʀᴛʜ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ; december 22nd
ᴀɢᴇ; 27
ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ; 5'5 when in anthro, 2'5 when feral.
ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ; 105 pounds, rather skinny

[momotarou]

"take my love and r u n. . ."

name;;

Seraphim -- often she goes by Sera

name meaning;;

"The seraphim (fiery, burning ones) are angelic beings associated with the prophet Isaiah's vision of God in the Temple when God called him to his prophetic ministry" source Attending him were mighty seraphim, each having six wings. With two wings, they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. Isiah 6:2 Seraphim aren't as scary as Cherubim, but still these angel-like beings sure are a curiosity.

name importance;;

Sera is nothing like her namesake. A wild party girl with few inhibitions is in great contrast to what is possibly the holiest, most sacred servants of God, and then there's this mess. Suffice to say this naming was an ironic one.

gender;;

Sera is agender, she isn't fond of the confines of gender identity. Nonetheless, she goes by she/her pronouns just because she enjoys feminity

sex;;

Biologically Sera is female!

sexuality;;

Pansexual - Sera is babe in love with everyone and everything, It's particularly hard for her to fall for someone simply for their gender

nationality;;

American

culture;;

Sera it 1/16th of everything, but she just a likens herself to "american" It's simpler for her

religion;;

Sera is entirely void of religion. Despite her religious naming, she's neither Jewish nor Christian (as these are the religions that Seraphim are referenced in). Sera detests the idea of rules from a higher power, as well, Sera hates the idea of a higher power in general. Sera is an atheist and sees all religion in a rather dark light. However, Sera's respectful and very accepting of others as long as they too respect her.

age;;

An adult and a kid, Seraphim's only twenty-one

birth date;;

September first 1994

education;;

Sera's only traveled up to through high school. Never has she attended a college.

disabilities;;

Sera experience some ADHD qualities of which hinder her ability to focus greatly. Sera absolutely despises her ADHD. She suffers primarily with symptoms of impulsivity and inattention. Sera can control these symptoms more often than not with medication, but when she forgets to take it she's aware right as she tries to complete a task. Also, it may not be a disability but Sera is mute!

health;;

Aside from her mental health, Seraphim is particularly healthy! If we're referring to mental health Sera has some issues with anxiety. Previously she had to deal with both depression and anxiety, but since then Sera has overcome a large portion of her depression.Otherwise, Seraphim is pretty healthy.

blood type;;

AB

you may seem like something c l a s s i c
but you're cheap sunglasses
and i s e e right through y o u. . .

childhood -- the fleeting mass of innocence
---✁-----------------------------------

cunning
When you have a mind that beckons forth the most wild thought, it's hard to deny it the ability to swim about. Constantly Seraphim had been referred to a "gifted and talented" child. But even that title didn't quite describe her.Sera's mind was busy, busy, busy. A burning place that always had questions that no adult could answer. "Why are we alive?" Questions that challenged those twice her age. Sera not only was beyond intelligent, she was a troublesome soul. When you're a bright little cookie you tend to grow bored with the constant, stagnant motion of a routine. But, Sera was always able to spice things up for herself. Playing tricks and wreaking havoc was a constant hobby for a young Seraphim, her angelic name holding no real value, suffice to say this on was a devil.

curious
Sera wanted to anything and everything the world had to offer. As many children do, Seraphim took the question game to a new kind of height, honestly it was dangerous when she learned how to speak. Sera would ask questions that shocked her family and the surrounding families. "Why do we die?" The concepts Seraphim understood where quite astounding, but often a little, spooky! Sera was a little girl who was innocently intelligent though. This was still a child, Sera was still simple in morality as opposed to her elder self. Seraphim had a certain beautiful curiosity about her, the kind all children possess in an innocently wonderful kind of way. Wide eyes gave the young girl a pure sort of appearance as opposed to who she truly was.

c a u t i o u s
When you're so highly acclaimed it's hard to not want to appease everyone. Being labeled so greatly made Seraphim nervous. Even as a child, Sera could almost predict the coming downward spiral of herself as well as her GPA. Seraphim was always unsure as to what she should do, though she never had to look too far for guidance. It was easy to turn to someone as a child, particularly easy in her position with teachers who were excited to point her in what they thought was the best path for her. But, this dependence would prove to be horrendous in the end. All the child wanted was a helping hand, but here she got false messiahs, promising extreme salvation.

Adolescence -- a confusing state of being lost
------------✁--------------------------

Alluring
Growing into a girl's physique is good for some or annoying for others. Though Sera would've prefered if her body were more gender neutral, she took what she got with stride. Alluring in both body and mind, Seraphim could pull a congregation without effort. Sera speaks then and now with a certain kind of conviction that most can't comprehend. There's some honey like quality that drags others towards her. During her teen years this produced a sort of complex for her, and this also provided a big head for years to come. It was easy to want to surround yourself with Seraphim, if you weren't a part of her daily life. Knowing her and her unmanageable sort of "greatness" could grow tiresome. Nonetheless people still flocked to the great speaker that was Seraphim, it was hard to tear yourself away from who this person was.

Audacious
To say that Sera would do anything would be an understatement. Seraphim is a darling obsessed with attention. so without any inhibitions it's pretty easy to see how things could go south so quickly. But, this was an age of rebellion for Seraphim, it was be wild and free or be restricted to what others told her was best for her. This often inspired Sera to do things that were pretty bad for her and those around her, nonetheless, Sera participated in whatever was considered cool. You'd tell her to jump and she'd ask how high. This personality trait stems from her childhood. Trusting everyone so willingly put her in a horrid position of which she couldn't get out. Sera took the advice of everyone, being told what to do constantly is something that makes you a learned follower. This is what happened to Sera.

"a b h o r r e n t"
After being praised for being such an obedient child, her rebellious age caused the authority figures to turn their back on her. At once adults went from constantly praising her to shunning her. Her parents went from hanging her grades on the fridge to looking at her marks in wild bewilderment. Sera had gone from a focused young woman to a wild out of control monster, or that's how she had felt. This adjective, abhorrent is more self-produced than anything. Sera feels and felt negatively towards herself. This rush of negativity didn't really help the swirling mental illness that mustered itself in the mind of Sera. This time was one of darkness for the bright girl of normal frivolity.

Currently -- the present in which hell still exists
------------------------✁--------------

Troubled
By this I don't mean merely troubled. I mean troubled in the words of a riot. Troubled in the means of a party girl. A wild woman who indulges rather that looking her problems in the eyes. However, this is a coping mechanism for Sera. This is how she sees life and this is how she enjoys herself. Washing away troubles in a sea of tinted spirits. Sera has recently caught hold of some older issues, though. Seraphim has looked her issues in the eyes and is working towards fixing them. Nonetheless, it's hard to rip yourself from comfort. In many ways, Sera is troubled. But, the young woman has yet to give in. Though she too has her demons, she's not letting these things keep her down, you can only go forward from here.

Alluring
Seraphim is still a beauty at this age. It's super easy to fall in love with her. With her poise and her wild attitude, it's beyond simple to slip into her midst. It's something of a challenge to keep yourself from her actually. Seraphim is sorta like a social magnet. There's no party without Sera, anyone in her city knows about her and knows her wild side. She's one of those people that everyone's heard of, even though in though in this case that's not really the best thing. Nonetheless, you can't help yourself from leaning into the conversation whenever she's around; Seraphim beckons attention and it's rare someone refuses. She's something of a trap for lonesome souls, she's not one to leave anyone out, and maybe that's why people love her? Or maybe it's her willingness to let others forget their troubles around her. Whatever it may be that brings others around her, this type of alluring is much different than from her teen years. No more is Sera big headed, rather she's a wandering soul lost at sea, a mariner of some sort. She's one who find solace in drowning her fears in thoughts in a numbing sort of fashion.


p r o g r e s s i v e
Not in the political sense and not the car insurance, no Sera is progressive in mind and matter. Moving from dark day to the glory of the future, Sera is progressive in her own way. Positively moving forward with her life from a dark place. Though still she sits in a constant cesspool of intoxication and hazy days, out she crawls. This is not where she's going to remain, she's not going to leave this for her family. This is not her final resting place. Seraphim may not be any puritan angel, but she's not going to allow herself to remain in a hell. There's no other as determined than Sera to take her place as a positive member of society. She's a party girl looking out into the beauty of white picket suburbia, that's her dream. Where some desperately want the wild night life that she has, in turn Seraphim wants a quiet life that murmurs instead of screaming. Seraphim wants what's just out of reach.

[hiyorin]

marking! ;o;

[BecNessMonster]

username: BecNessMonster
Name: Elizabeth
Nickname: Liesl (often goes by that short form), Lizzy, beth, Eli
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Pan-curious
Ethnicity: German
Nationality: American
Disability: Cant Hear, so never really learned how to speak and never does so is known to be selective mute. knows how to lip read as compensation and is quite strong despite her size due to being Anemic.
Personality:
Short story:
Art: (At least three)

`I can not see, I can not hear, I can only watch as the world goes around me and see the truth in tainted by words`
`If I had one thousand words I would use none of them for my self`

[AustrianAce]

"Erst denken, dann handeln"
"First think, then act"

Click picture below to go to Liesl's site!

Name;; Liesl Melody Adler

Gender;; female

Art;;

XXX - by s h i o n,
XXX - by Miss. Scei
XXX - by Austriagirl
XXX - by Miss. Scei
XXX - by Austriagirl
XXX - by Austriagirl
XXX - by ThatPinkThing
XXX - by Bloodwolfie
XXX - by Austriagirl

[Pyromaniacal]

Name: (I'd prefer if it was the same, but if you want to, you can change it)
Personality:
Short story:
Art: (At least three)
Mark!

[nymx]

snip

[Dawnbreeze10210]

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Liesl and my Momma has always called me "lie-sell," though you'll find that I am most often called by the more traditional way of saying it "Lee-zull". Momma always told me I was going to be different then everyone else. She would say that I couldn't speak because the world thought I'd be a better listener then a speaker. I suppose that she wasn't exactly wrong, without the ability to speak it makes it easier for me to understand situations. Momma used to say that people talked to much and always forget the little things and make things too complicated. One could describe me as a listener, while others might just think I like to be alone. I don't blame them, it can be hard trying to have a conversation with someone who can't physically make any sounds to continue the conversation. You could say that I'm quiet (it's hard not to be), and that perhaps that it's difficult to understand me and who I am... But if I were to describe myself using one word, I would choose proud.

Momma and I weren't all that fortunate... Oh we had each other and everything, Momma said that Papa left us sometime when I was still a baby. Momma said it was because he couldn't handle the responsibility, but personally, I think it may have been because he couldn't handle his baby not growing up to say 'papa'. It wasn't all bad, nothing was bad really. Momma worked for this very rich couple who had a daughter of their own. Their house was rather large to say the least, so Momma and I stayed in our own room together. Momma was one of the house keepers, and the occasional cook for the family when their actual chef was on a small vacation... As for myself, when I got older I started to help with some of Momma's chores. Laundry, washing dishes, sweeping dust, there was practically always something to do in that large house. The room Momma and I stayed in was large enough for two beds to be in there, two twin beds that up until I was fourteen were pushed together to be one big bed. It was interesting that family, the one with the Mama, the Papa, and the daughter. The girl didn't talk too much (from what I remember), but when she did talk, it was always some formal and polite. Now that I recall, she always said Mother or Father, Mister or miss... Except for around her father, she seemed to talk easier around that man. Around her momma- Her mother, that was a rather different story. She was always so tense around the woman one wouldn't believe that the two were actually related! Gosh the way that her mother used to look at her, I don't believe I'd ever seen her give that lilac haired girl a smile that said 'I absolutely love you'. One time when I was a young child something happened that I couldn't comprehend. I was maybe six years old at the time, and the girl a year older. I hadn't meant to see this happen mind you, I just happened to be there at the wrong time, it must have been the fact I had heard a pained sound. I still remember the look she gave me when she saw me peeking from behind the door frame. Even through the tears she just sort of gave me this sad little smile and shut herself right up as if to have me think that she was okay. That girl... Emmeline, was darn beautiful. Her hair was the nicest shade of purple that could really be deemed fit to be worthy of being on a head, I always remembered she wore it up; her mother never wanted to see her with it down... Something about it being "un-ladylike". She was just slightly pale in my opinion, and had a nice figure looking back. Her eyes were a nice sort of emerald green, almost sea green in the right sort of lighting. She was polite, a sweetheart, always minded her manners... Gosh I just couldn't understand what her Mother saw wrong in her.

It was hard for me to explain any of this to Momma, even if we've managed to communicate successfully together for the six years of my life to that point in time. I didn't particularly like sign language, so Momma and I just sort of communicated based off my actions, facial expression, or writing things down... Momma always tended to speak to me, I liked the sound of her voice (It was kind of like honey drink, but with a hint of lemon to give it a slight punch). I wasn't sure of the reason then on why it was so hard to ask my Momma about the situation; but I supposed that it was only because I was so young. Being older now I know it was because it was so different from how Momma treated me. I couldn't understand as a child why a mother would punish their child in such a way that it brought tears. If I ever got in trouble... Which I hardly ever seemed to, I guess being quiet all the time has some perks to it, Momma would sit me down and have a serious talk with me. She'd look me dead in the eyes with a serious look on her face and make sure I listened. Although I did finally manage to ask Momma why a mother would do such a thing, I just saw a conflicted look (at the time where I thought it had been sadness) on her face. She sat me down on the bed and kneeled down in front of me while taking my hands in hers. She seemed a little hesitant on what to say, something I'd never quite seen before. When she looked at me, she just had that same sort of sad smile that dear Emmeline had on hers when she looked at me.

"Well, sweetie." Momma said slowly, weighing her words carefully.

"We live in a complicated world where things aren't always fair. We also live in a world where there are different opinions and different ways that a Momma might see there child." She paused, seeing my confused expression. She still hadn't answered my question.

"Liesl, what I'm trying to say is that little girl is a tough cookie. I'm not saying what her Momma does is right or fair, but that's how it is. She has a fine Father who takes care of her best he can, they live under a well built roof with food and water and where their family is healthy... She's a tough cookie." Momma finished, squeezing my hand before standing up and letting out a deep sigh. A tough cookie? How could that possible explain what I had just witnessed. I suppose Momma wasn't wrong though, whenever I saw Emmeline she just wore a smile on her face and had such good posture I thought that maybe it was because her back was stiff all the time. I remember one time when I was doing little twirls down in the garden I saw her smiling from her room watching me. I remember waving to her from the garden and watching her wave a little back before I saw her look a little behind me to find the man of the house walking up behind me. Her father plucked a daisy from the ground and handed it to me like he wanted an encore (though I didn't really understand it all that well then) before waving to his daughter. I had looked up from my crisp white daisy to see that she- Emmeline, was smiling wider. She was smiling a real smile then. One of those where you know it can't be fake. The way her face seemed to light up and do back flips, I liked that smile the best. I guess it kind of showed she was a real tough cookie.

“Parents were the only ones obligated to love you; from the rest of the world you had to earn it.”
― Ann Brashares, Forever in Blue: The Fourth Summer of the Sisterhood

I was about twelve when the mistress of the household snapped at me. I didn't even realize she was upset with me until she started to comment on my muteness. All I'd been doing was folding the laundry that they (or at least she) had so much of. All the yelling and she kept telling me I was doing it wrong, but she supposed I'd been wrong all my life so it didn't make much difference anyways. How could not being able to talk even affect my laundry duties? I wasn't all that sure. She just kept going and going, and I just didn't understand. Perhaps this was what Emmeline felt, wondering what she'd done wrong to deserve such treatment. It wasn't fair, I worked hard to help Momma with chores; the woman herself hardly did a day's work. Every time I saw her she would be lounging drinking tea and laughing obnoxiously (it sounded obnoxious to me) but really it was just dainty laughing of rich woman gossiping together. Goodness she could yell, I'd heard her do it before, especially to Momma and I wondered if I had something to do with it. The first time I had witnessed the Lady had yelling at Momma I lost it. She was calling her all these things that weren't true in the slightest. How could such a woman that the world saw as such a perfect lady with the best manners treat her staff so poorly? Perhaps it was because she wasn't in public where the world couldn't judge her misdoings.

Momma didn't seem upset in the slightest as the mistress yelled at her. She simply stood up straight with her chin up high, looking the woman dead in the eye with those piercing blue eyes of hers (They could be quite scary, I'd know because I'd seen them before.) She didn't back talk, she didn't swing any punches on the woman.... She just stood there all proud and brave. I couldn't quite understand how she could be so calm while this madness happened, and when I inquired about it (you'd laugh if you saw me acting it back then) and wrote about it on paper as well; Momma turned especially serious. This wasn't one of those times where she'd give me life lessons and laugh while she told me. It wasn't one of those time where she'd be cooking or cleaning and telling me in an almost irritated sort of voice about what to do and not to do. Her eyes were locked on mine and I wouldn't dare to break the contact she initiated. Momma didn't seem hesitant in the slightest like she had when she told me about Emmeline being a tough cookie. Her voice didn't waver and she didn't waste a breath to tell me what's on her mind about the situation.

"Now you listen to me and you listen to me good, Lisel." She said, her voice a little more lemony then honey this time around.

"It's one thing to get mad about something, and another to get mad about nothing. The Mrs can jab at me all she likes but her words don't mean one thing to me do you hear? I could tell you that sticks and stones can break your bones but words could never hurt you, but Liesl, that's not the point." Momma was never to fond about those cliche sayings, she said they could be a load of baloney.

"You've got to be proud about who you are, sweetie. You've got to hold your head up high and look them in the eye and have them know you are perfectly fine with what they're saying. You don't have to agree with it, you just have to know you're alright with it." Momma was searching my face to make sure I understood. Momma told me I've got to be proud. I'd never really thought my muteness could be such a problem in other's eyes, I didn't even know it wasn't normal for someone not to be able to talk until I was a little older. I didn't bother to learn sign language because if others didn't understand it, what was the point? May as well use actions, writing, and expressions to express myself. Sort of like a game you could say. This was one of the few times where I wish I could talk to be able to tell Momma that I promised to be proud all the time. But I think the look in my eyes settled things for the both of us because she gave me a satisfied nod and placed a peck on my forehead. Simple actions for a simple answer.

Now I know Momma told me to be proud, and I know that I promised her I'd always be proud. But I'd never heard such harsh words spoken to me before, and this woman had such status in society. Would she know right from wrong? I'd think so, so did this woman think I was really so wrong? My hands were clenched at my sides and stubborn tears that refused to just go away were beginning to blur my field of vision. I think the Mrs was beginning to feel satisfied with my reaction and I wasn't sure I was too happy with that. I'd seen Momma handle the yelling many times, I could handle it this once couldn't I? I promised Momma after all, I didn't like breaking promises. Clenching my jaw I stood up straight, similar to the way I always saw Emmeline, and dared to match the Mrs eyes. She didn't seem happy much longer as she saw the tears disappearing, and I suppose I should be grateful when she finally huffed and ended with a pitiful line of,

"Just do the laundry right!" Before stalking off. I'd done it? I think I did because I was feeling a sort of crackled warmth in my belly that I'd only really felt around Momma when I did her good. I'd been proud. And proud was a rather good feeling that I ought to try and and do that more often. In fact, I recall myself sticking my tongue out at the woman as she walked away and heard a quiet sort of laugh afterward. It hadn't been me of course, and to be honest, my guess was that it was Emmeline... I'd never heard her laugh before.

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

I'd never had a real birthday party before, Momma and I always had a small celebration- if you could even call it at. She'd bake me a cupcake and put a single candle on top, and that would be my cake. Don't take pity upon it, I actually quite enjoyed it throughout my years growing up. It was something to look forward to. We'd sit on our joined beds with me holding the cupcake with the single lit candle while she sang happy birthday to me quietly; she had to because it was usually rather late after she'd finished her chores. After I'd make a wish (mind you I never wished for the ability to talk) we'd split the cupcake and share it, Momma and I. It was always a real treat you know, I'd never really eaten too many sweets growing up, and Momma's cupcakes were always rather perfect. Each birthday was a chocolate cupcake with honey lemon frosting. You wouldn't believe how tasty they were.

I'd eaten chocolate cupcakes at the small gala sort of party that Emmeline and her parents had so graciously held for me. Why? I was absolutely clueless. Emmeline had seemed absolutely genuine when she asked if she could hold one for me. How she'd found out about my birthday I'm not all too sure. Her mother was more not in the same mind set as her daughter, "charity work," she called it. The cupcakes hadn't been as good as Momma's, so I finished the one I started (didn't want to waste food) and didn't touch another. Goodness, you wouldn't believe such an event they did for me. I was just turning sixteen and I didn't believe that I deserved such a grand event. Emmeline insisted however in a gentle kind of way, and it was the sort of hope that glimmered in those emerald eyes that really caused me to cave in. I was surprised such a fine young girl would want to spend such money on me, Momma said it was because Emmeline was being the perfect young lady that the Mrs couldn't see.

"You enjoy this get together alright Liesl? Remember to mind your manners and keep your chin up. Show those lil rich ladies how much of an amazing girl I know you are." Momma told me before the party started, her eyes were all teary as she watched Emmeline help to fix my hair. I wouldn't have been able to tell you then why Momma was so emotional, but looking back at it now being older... Gosh. Momma was always so happy to have me around her, you'd think that she thought I brought the sun up every day. I think what got her so emotional was that she couldn't give me a life where I'd be like one of them 'normal' children. I don't believe that was right though, I was perfectly content with the way Momma raised me. It surely wasn't one of those story book type of situations where everything is all good, but it certainly had its moments. Besides, what could one person do with so much wealth? Emmeline had certainly done good (what she writes to me from time to time is how she's doing away at University). Her father continued to work hard and her mother was the same as ever, just older and not too much wiser. I suppose I aught to tell you more of what darling Emmeline did for me on my sixteenth birthday. I'd expected to go in my semi-formal dress Momma had given to me as a handy down, but Emmeline had different ideas. I think she remembered me twirling in the garden (I had so much spare time then to move as I pleased) because she'd gotten a dress made for me similar to that a ballerina may wear. She had even bought a pair of shoes (heels at that could you believe it? I'd never worn a pair in my life and here she was thinking I'd do just fine in fancy heels) that had delicate ribbons that managed to cling to my legs. I couldn't quite believe that I was being so pampered, I'd never truly been pampered before. Momma's love was really all I'd ever experienced. My relationship with Emmeline could be described as somewhat complicated. We didn't tend to speak often (well, I couldn't) but when we did, she was such a joy to listen to. I don't know why she was always so hesitant over her words like she may say something wrong; at first, I thought it was because my being mute made her uncomfortable but it turned out she spoke like this to just about anyone but her father. They had a relationship that I could only say was similar to mine and Momma's. You could tell they loved each other and they were father and daughter. Emmeline's mother always tended to treat her like she was doing something wrong, she seemed more like a tutor instead of a mother.

Momma had decided she didn't want to attend the birthday celebration, saying she'd feel too irritated around woman who couldn't respect other opinions. I suppose I understood, but I guess it was all rather different compared to the little celebrations of our own, just the two of us. I would be lying if I told you that I hadn't enjoyed the celebration. Of course it had those moments where I could see woman or men giving me sympathetic or disdainful glances. Sympathy, can you believe such a thing? You'd think being mute was absolutely terrible but it's really sort of relaxing. You don't have to worry about what comes out of your mouth or what to say to someone. Like Momma said, simple actions can be just as effective. I wonder if Emmeline knew that. While I thought she might wander off during the celebration to be with those more of her status, she accompanied me the entire night. Her mother wasn't thrilled about her decision, and the next day I could have sworn I'd saw the bloody tissues in the waste bin as I emptied it; most likely from a bloody nose or cut lip. I'd thought the celebration would be mediocre, the Mrs didn't seem too fond of me anyways. But apparently to keep a good reputation, one must throw an extravagant gala? Emmeline and her parents had really out done themselves (although the man of the house was away on a business trip that week). I distinctly remember twirling in the dance floor to the sound of the orchestra music flooding the room, Emmeline had told me later that night that I was absolutely adorable and that several boys had witnessed the twirls with smiles dancing in their faces as well. I hardly had an interest of boys at the time, Momma needed my help so there wasn't much time. She educated me during times of break, mornings, or nights to ensure I wouldn't be behind if I were to leave. (I've actually just turned eighteen, and Momma insists I find something to do with my life then help around with chores old toads like her do... She's hardly an 'old toad'.)

What I mean to say is I felt rather proud to show myself off in front of all those rich individuals. I was the proud product delivered from my Momma, mute and proud of it. For goodness sakes, you don't understand how much those folks could chat on and on and on!

“I need you to be happy. I need one of us to be happy.”
― Holly Black, Red Glove

Momma thinks I'm crazy for sticking around still. I'd just turned eighteen for goodness sakes, does she really expect me to ship off already? I know she hardly wants me to leave her but I also know that she'd rather see me off and making a real life for myself rather than staying here taking care of what the Mrs wants and doing chores all the time. It's not like I'm really tired of doing any of the sort anyways, it has become a rather familiar thing in my daily routines and I don't mind at all. I'm not all too sure what I'd want to do else where anyways. What was there really for someone who couldn't talk? Now don't you think that if I learned sign language it would be much easier. It's hardly useful it the other partner doesn't understand sign language now is it? Even if I left the house I'd probably end up in some sort of maid service anyways if I were to think of an education. Momma put away some money from her earnings for me when I got older, but I'd have to do earn quite a bit more myself if I were to even think of getting my way through some college. My, there would be so much to pay for. Residence and meals ($12 900... Maybe $5000 or less if I stayed near Momma), books ($1000), classes ($350 if I was lucky)... Golly, that would put a large hole in my pocket that I really just can't afford... Perhaps I'd don't a little more research on leaving then I'd realized. Of course, Emmeline, being a year older than me as it is; is already off at University in the Arts faculty, could you believe it? I thought her mother would lock her indoors after she broke the news to her mother. Mind you her father was all for it, and I thought it would be nice for her to get out of this sort of environment. It's rather interesting, saying she should leave while I'm here telling Momma that I should stay. Emmeline could surely make it though, she was an intelligent young girl and to be completely honest, quite the little artist. As a child I remember being outside and always finding these cracked eggs littering the ground near Emmeline's window. Eggs! Who would have thought she had a knack for colouring the weird surface. I'd heard about others colouring eggs for Easter (though I never did myself). The eggs Emmeline painted- well, I'm assuming painted, who else would it be- were quite magnificent. Each was different and each with little details of their own only a child would notice because they like being able to play "spot the difference". (Betcha I would have been easy to spot if I ever left the house grounds). I actually began to collect small fragments of these eggs that I'd find littering the dirt, I had a whole box full that I would call my little egglets (in my head... but I did label the box "egglets" so Momma wouldn't think they were clutter). I suppose I'm off topic aren't I? Well, I'm still sharing that single room with Momma, just our beds are pushed apart now instead of together. Momma said it was because I was getting too big, but I think it was because she wanted me to get used to sleeping in a bed on my own- this started when I was fourteen. I've taken up more chores now, started getting paid around fifteen for my work. Momma isn't as incapable with things as you might think an older lady like her might be. She really only has troubles with lifting heavy loads, so I've taken it upon myself of doing any such chores that might involve lifting... This mostly has been carrying around hampers of laundry or moving books or old pieces of furniture around; nothing too large, they had stronger men for those sort of jobs.

I'm not all sure if I'll be leaving Momma and what we call home any time soon. I suppose I should, it would be the sensible thing to do... But there were so many possibilities and limitations that I just didn't want to handle any time in the near future. Perhaps if I saved a little more money first, be able to pay something right away rather then having to get into debt that I didn't want hanging over my head. Imagine that, getting into school only to graduate with thousands of debt weighing you down. Maybe before I apply any where for schooling I'll take Momma and I on a small trip, no where too far, but somewhere where we can get a new perspective on things. We'll see. I'll let Momma continue to drop 'subtle' hints to me a while longer before I decide anything.

Credits
planes
Art: waiting on

[GoldenFeline]

MArk

[~punkstache]

reserve!
Aww she is so cute <3