scribbles [tommy]

[hitoban]

WELL SHE LIVES IN A F A I R Y T A L E

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SOMEWHERE TOO FAR FOR US TO FIND[/FONT]

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Corriana Ansell walked purposefully through the school, her kicks squeaking softly against the tile floor. She passed through the large wooden doors of the library. As she passed by the front desk, she nodded at the old woman sitting there. The librarian smiled at her, and Cori gave her the blessing of the tiniest genuine smile. They knew each other well by now, and Cori didn't want the woman thinking that she was a total snob. She also didn't want her thinking they were going to be friends. Being friends with the librarian was lame. Cori passed through the main room, strolling past tall bookshelves that stretched back into the recesses of the cavernous room without so much as glancing at them. She went through the research room, where there were more books, plus encyclopedias and computers, and finally into the very farthest room - a study room. She dropped her bag on the only table in the room and kept walking. She knows exactly where she is going. No one ever used this room. No one ever really studied at an art school. They used the dance studio or the auditorium or some other artsy part of the school. She strolled easily to the very back corner, and plopped down on the floor, journal in hand. There was a nook there in the wall, and as she sat with her knees pulled up and her back against the wall, passerby would only just be able to see the toes of her shoes. She took a deep breath, and opened her journal, laying it open on her lap with a small smile. The old, worn leather gave easily to her bending, and the old, slightly yellowed paper smelled of dust. The calligraphy on the page had smudges here and there from her trailing hand, or her scratching out words or phrases. It was also smudged from her closing the book too quickly because someone dared to try and peek. She had many thoughts swirling around today, and she was eager to get them down on the paper.

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FORGOTTEN THE TASTE AND SMELL

TAG ! tommy
WORDS ! 347
OUTFIT ! clickeh
NOTES ! :)
CREDIT ! DELYSSIOUS !
SONG ! brick by boring brick --- paramore

OF A WORLD THAT SHE'S LEFT BEHIND[/FONT][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[tommas ugo renda]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » LET IT OUT. If there was anything Tommas Ugo Renda really hated, it was too much free time. Maybe a little bit here and there was nice, but a whole two hours of study time after school? What was there to study if you were a dance student, anyway? Well, the library probably had some random book on dance for him to kill two hours with, since he really needed to get out of the dance studio right now. It was mostly filled with ballet students, and the few teachers that were wandering around and helping out just reminded Tom of what exactly he was supposed to do to one of his teachers... No, no use thinking about that; it always made him more stressed than he cared to admit, and since he couldn't exactly pour out his feelings to anyone, it was best to just not think about it. He pushed most of his feelings away, and if it had so far been making him a bit more of a bitter person, then fine. At least his family would be proud of him for that, and that was one of the only things that kept him from having a mental breakdown. That and dancing, when he could just zone out the rest of the world and do his own thing. Normally reading didn't work to the same purpose, but he could at least try it today. Walking into the library and nodding at the woman behind the desk, he scavenged around on the shelves for a while before finding a book on the history of hip hop dancing. It didn't look very interesting to him, but then again, nothing really did these days. Except maybe tattoos, but he didn't think the library of such a prestigious school of arts would have any books on tattoos. Yes, he had just said that inside of his head with a fancy little princess voice, but it wasn't like anyone could read his mind and judge him on it. At least it brought a smile to his face as he reached up to touch his latest tattoo, the one on his neck that Rhea had given him about two months ago. Tom guessed that she'd been pretty proud of that one, and though it had taken a while to heal – being on his neck and all – he was pretty proud of it too. In a considerably better mood than he had been when he entered the library, Tommas walked back up to the desk, letting the librarian check out the book while he leaned against the wood and looked around. Obviously, in such a fancy school, they would have a fancy library, but it looked more like a cave than the libraries he was used to back home. But in most large places, there were smaller places to hide out. Tom had learned at a very young age how to find a small place and stay there until he thought it was okay to come out, especially when his parents where mad at him, or he was playing a surprisingly violent game of hide and seek with his brothers. When you hated the fighting that being found brought down on you, hiding became one of your skills after a while. Of course, he was nearly double the height he had been as a child, making it kind of hard to squeeze into tiny places, but he could at least find a secluded back room and read there until he could go back to class, couldn't he? A place like this was sure to have a few study rooms or something of the sort, and instead of asking the librarian where he could find them, he set out to search for them by himself. Tom wasn't the type of person to ask for help when he could do it on his own, but he broke that rule a lot with his family. They were the best thing he had, even if they regarded him as a failure in the family business. But hey, they were still forcing him to join it in a few years... Tommas shuddered at that thought as he passed through what was probably the research room, but looking around, it didn't really have any good places to curl up and read, so he went further back into the library, finally entering what was probably the study room. It looked deserted to Tom, and that was what he liked when he was trying to read. Perfect. He doubted anyone else would delve this far into the library, even if they were an extremely bored book nerd or a complete social hermit. Tom wasn't either of those things himself, but when he read, he liked reading alone, with no stupid noises to distract him. Yes, people talking counted as stupid noises most of the time. If he didn't know someone, he didn't see a need to listen to their chatter, let alone speak to them himself. So this room was perfect for him, or at least it had been until he saw the tips of some purple shoes poking out of a nook in the wall. Maybe that would have been a nice place to hide, but someone was apparently already occupying it, so he circled around until he could get a better view of said someone. What luck that he recognized her! No, sarcasm was hard to convey through just plain words, but that had been leaking with sarcasm. ”Midget, I think it's fate,” he said, rolling his eyes and crouching down in front of Corriana. Now, here was a girl that didn't make useless chatter. It was all insults between Tom and the red head, and that was the kind of talking that Tom was fine with. ”Writing letters to your mobile therapist?” He was slipping a little too easily into the slang he had picked up from his uncle, but there was still a thick Italian accent present, making him sound a little... odd, to say the least. ”Isn't that a little girly for a cat like you? Can I see it?” Being curious normally got him into trouble, and being noisy could get him killed, but the rules that he had set so rigidly for himself slipped a little when he was around Corriana. She better feel pretty damn special, because Tommas was sure that she would be the death of him. words (1039) tag (cori) notes (sorry it's so long)

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[hitoban]

WELL SHE LIVES IN A F A I R Y T A L E

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SOMEWHERE TOO FAR FOR US TO FIND[/FONT]

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Cori scanned the black ink covering the page before her, remembering what she'd written about the day before. She liked to reread her poems and entries, not because she was vain, but because she liked being reminded that she wasn't exactly crazy...yet. She flipped to a blank page and reached in her jacket pocket for her calligraphy pen. She took a calligraphy class once, and they gave her this fancy pen for free, but she didn't retain any of the skills learned. So now she writes like her plain old self with a fancy ink calligraphy pen. She fished in her pocket, but it wasn't there. So she checked her other pocket. It was also not there. She groaned. Cori had a tenancy of misplacing things. She would take off a ring to wash her hands, put it in her front pocket, and leave it there all day. The next day, she'd go to put the ring back on and not be able to find it. Same thing with her pen. It was a fancy-ass pen, but she left it lying everywhere beacause she took it with her everywhere. She wrote in her journal in the strangest places. She'd not have her pen one day and have to spend an hour retracing her steps until she found it. It was a wonder no one stole it.

But, upon finding it missing from it's usual spot, she readied herself to go check her backpack. It was there, sometimes, just hangin out with her other pens. But then, she heard a noise. Shoes... She sat still and didn't make a noise, but it was useless. Her toes had already been spotted, the purple a dead giveaway against the beige carpet. She cursed softly to herself when Tommy came into view. She rolled her eyes at his annoying nickname, and pulled her feet back as he crouched down in front of her. Make no mistake, she wasn't making room for him. She wanted him to get away from her. He was a large man, and, much as she hated to admit it, he intimidated her. Now she was blocked off, no escape route. She was stuck in a corner with Tommy as her only door. She curled into herself just a little more, looking more like a cornered wolf than anything else."God damn it, Tommy. Now I'll never be able to use this place again." She knew once her hiding place had been discovered, the fucking green giant would come bothering her every day. She saw his eyes fall to the book, and she snapped it closed, eying him evilly. No one got to know the contents of the journal. No one except Devin, her older brother and most trusted confidant. The journal was now pressed firmly against her chest as she pulled her knees marginally closer to her face. It was instinct to try and get as far away from other people as physically possible. As Tommy crouched there, the light behind him casting his face into partial shadow, a brief vision of Cori's father flashed before her eyes. She flinched-barely noticeable except to the extremely perceptive- and hugged her journal tighter. She wanted-no, needed him to back up. She could feel her chest getting tighter with fear the longer he sat there. His expression wasn't intimidating, and he seemed like an allright guy, but childhood traumas have a way of coming back to bite your social life in the proverbial ass. Then, Tommy did the one thing no one was every crazy enough to do.

He asked about her journal.

But not only did he ask about it, he asked to see it! Cori's mouth fell open in shock, and she momentarily forgot her fear. And then rage replaced shock and fear, and she straightened up. A warm red and begun flooding her cheeks, but not out of embarrassment. Her eyes glinted like daggers as she shot him a look that could bring down an elephant. She would not be bullied. She put the journal down on the small strip of carpet behind her, and she got in Tommy's face. Her heartbeat sped up, just from being in close proximity to someone so large, but she fought through it. "No," she growled, "you cannot see it. My "mobile therapist" is for my eyes only." She used the slang sarcastically, each word dripping with contempt, her tone mocking. Then she got very serious. Her eyes danced darkly, wildly, like a madman's waltz, and she got marginally closer to his face, eyes locked with his. "You so much as touch it, she hissed, "and I will bring the pain."

With that, she leaned back, lifted her right foot, and planted her toe on his chest. She gave him a shove-just enough to make him move, but not enough to be physically violent. Once he was out of her way, she stood swiftly and exited the nook. She breathed a sigh of relief, out of the corner and into the light. Now she had an escape route if he decided she was worth attacking. She went to her backpack without looking at him and started rooting around for her pen. "Now fuck off, she said. Her tone let him know there was to be no more conversation. He was dismissed.

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FORGOTTEN THE TASTE AND SMELL

TAG ! tommy
WORDS ! 886
OUTFIT ! clickeh
NOTES ! she'll bring the pain like a UFC fighter. >:}
CREDIT ! DELYSSIOUS !
SONG ! brick by boring brick --- paramore

OF A WORLD THAT SHE'S LEFT BEHIND[/FONT][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[tommas ugo renda]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » LET IT OUT. ”Oh, you'll still be able to use it. Do you honestly think I visit the library on a daily basis? This is a one time thing, kid.” Sure, annoying Corriana was fun, but it would take all the fun out of his life if he had to search for her in the library on a daily basis. In fact, she was probably safer in the study room than she was in any other part of the school. Even if Tom knew where she was hiding out, he'd only hunt her down if he really needed to talk to her, and why would he need to talk to a runt? He had better things to do most of the time, and even if all the arguing they did was normally light hearted, Cori still managed to hurt him sometimes. And like that time on the online chat, there were certain topics that he avoided like the plague that she just happened to bring up, like the little unintentionally hurtful bitch she was. ”Hide and seek is such a children's game, anyway. The rest of us don't even play anymore, so you need to grow up and stop hiding eventually,” he snapped, all good cheer gone after just a few moments of thinking. See, this was why Tommy didn't like free time. Free time led to talking, which led to thinking, which led to Tom's rare good moods disappearing in a flash. But who was Tommy to talk about not hiding? Wasn't that what he had been doing in the first place? He had found something to do, sure, but then had retreated to a nice and secluded place where he had just happened to run into someone who was as skilled at hide and seek as he was. Maybe 'the rest of us' never looked for Corriana, but Tom had never been the type to seek in the first place. He hid, just like the midget was doing at this very moment. Maybe he should have gotten into drama instead of dancing, because he was pretty good at pretending that he was content with his life, but anyone who knew him really well knew that he wasn't. Of course, it wasn't like he allowed anyone to get to know him that well. Being so close to someone would eventually lead to other conversations, and there were just things that he couldn't tell anyone. Like the thing about Professor Tower, or who his family was. Talking about things like that had the potential to get him hurt pretty badly, even killed. But that was just more thinking, and it was beginning to seem inevitable that he was going to have to move to the side and let Cori out of her nook, or risk looking like a hypocrite. In fact, he was just starting to move to the side when the younger girl got all close to his face. And dammit, Cori looked pretty dangerous. Tom never really meant to upset anyone, but with his pessimistic attitude on life and snarky comments, he had eventually grown accustomed to accidentally hurting people's feelings. Getting someone mad was rare, though, and he wasn't prepared for how simply terrifying Corriana looked when he asked if he could see her journal. ”Okay, okay,” he said, narrowing his own eyes. They may not have been fighting words, but they came out as more of a snarl; if Cori was like a cornered wolf, Tom was like an overly defensive cat, and he did not appreciate being pushed over. As he was crouching, he couldn't very well step back without falling over, so fall over was exactly what he did. No animal or human or whatever living being liked being vulnerable, so the dancer sat up as soon as Cori had moved past him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it back down. The friction of the younger girl's shoes had managed to scoot it up a few inches, but it wasn't as if he cared that much, and he doubted that his fellow student would care either. Or even pay attention, seeing as she had already turned to rummage through her backpack. Even if he didn't like interacting with people that much, watching them had proved to be interesting over the years. It was also going to be an extremely useful skill in the future, and while Tommas hadn't noticed Corriana flinch while she was still in the nook, it was pretty obvious that she was much more relaxed when she was out in the open. It wasn't like he was going to attack her or anything, so the concept was quite amusing for Tom. He wasn't dangerous. Yet, that was... No, Tom wasn't going to be particularly dangerous for a few years. Even if his current job was to kill his very own teacher, it was more likely that one of the other mafia members on the job would get to Professor Tower first. But anyway, by this time, Tom was back to being contended and lazy, sprawled on the floor with his elbows supporting all his weight. Until Corriana told him to fuck off, that was. If she had been rude, he could have dealt with it. He probably would have shook it off and stayed to annoy her, because being rude really didn't have much of an effect on him these days. Dismissive, though, was a completely different story. Tom hated being dismissed, especially by someone as obviously inferior to him as Cori was. He'd dealt with that tone for too long when he was a kid, even from his uncle, who had treated him considerably better than the rest of his family had. Hearing it now from such a tiny kid was more than annoying, it pissed him off. His upper lip was curled a bit, showing his disgust, though he doubted that Corriana noticed, and he was preparing to stand up and get the hell away from the midget when he noticed that she had left her journal in the little nook in the wall. Didn't she know never to leave important things lying around like that? Her warning not to touch the damned thing was all but gone from his mind by now, so he grabbed it and tossed it on the table beside Cori's backpack, rolling his eyes and standing up. ”Don't litter,” he spat, glaring at her before turning around and heading for the door. words (1075) tag (cori) notes (i fear for tom's life...)

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[hitoban]

WELL SHE LIVES IN A F A I R Y T A L E

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SOMEWHERE TOO FAR FOR US TO FIND[/FONT]

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Cori had thought things were all said and done. She'd already almost forgotten that the beanstalk was even there. She was digging in her backpack, looking for her pen, and thinking about what she would write in her journal. She would definitely mention her little scared episode, and probably put a lot of X's and skulls and shit around Tom's name. "Where is that damn pen...?" she mumbled, completely ignoring whatever Tommy was saying if he was saying anything. She finally found her pen and pulled it out with a triumphant "Aha!" She gave it a little smooch. But then, her world stopped. Out of the fog of white noise behind her, she heard a thump. She slowly looked at the table, and saw her journal. Her precious journal that she'd had since she was a small child, laying haphazardly on the table where she did not put it. It was flopped open, pages down, and as she picked it up gingerly, she saw that one of the pages was bent. She unbent it and closed it, laying it down on the table. She was in a mild state of shock. No one had ever touched her journal. No one had dared. But this fucking kid had come along and tossed it like a ragdoll. As she looked up from her book, the hatred and rage slowly coming to a boil, she heard two words: "Don't litter." And then he turned and started walking away.

Cori blinked. She didn't register the angry look on his face. She didn't register the words, even. All she knew was her journal had been damaged, and it was his fault. She blinked again, but this time, she saw red. She walked silently around the table, behind the tall man. Then, remembering what her brother had taugh her, she jumped. She wrapped her arm around the boy's neck, grabbed her wrist, and pulled. She squeezed her muscles as tight as they would go, pulling his head against her chest. She growled in his ear. "You fucking touched my property. She laughed, a hint of insanity darkly coloring the edges of the hard "HA". She squeezed again. "I told you not to fucking touch my journal!"

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FORGOTTEN THE TASTE AND SMELL

TAG ! tommy
WORDS ! 370
OUTFIT ! clickeh
NOTES ! and there it is.
CREDIT ! DELYSSIOUS !
SONG ! brick by boring brick --- paramore

OF A WORLD THAT SHE'S LEFT BEHIND[/FONT][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[tommas ugo renda]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » LET IT OUT. Being born into the Calabrian mafia, Tom had grown up with exposure to certain skills. Guns, mainly, but close combat hand to hand old styled fighting was another thing that every kid had to know in his family. So sure, all the knowledge was there, and he knew what to do when Corriana jumped on his back, but there was still his old problem. He couldn't do it. It was like reading a whole tutorial on how to draw, learning exactly what the picture looked like in your head and each and every precise little line you had to make to have it come out perfectly, but not having a pencil to draw with. Tommas knew everything he had to do to keep Cori from hurting him, and exactly how to do it, but he didn't have the heart to throw her to the ground. He didn't want to hurt her, even if it was in self defense. Yeah, even if it was to stop himself from getting killed, Tommas just couldn't bring himself to hurt the midget. It was morally wrong for him, even if he had grown up around much more violence than he was experiencing right now. Of course, there's a point for everyone where their morals fly out the window. Survival instinct kicks in eventually, because nobody could just sit there and let themselves be killed, not even someone naturally passive. Even if the victim didn't have any fighting skills, they would scramble for their lives; another piece of knowledge that Tom had picked up over the years. It was around then that Tom's own morals ran away into oblivion, raising one hand to grab Cori's shirt and placing his other hand on the arm that was wrapped around his throat. He'd never been good at this, but adrenaline was kicking in by this time, and that made it a bit easier to pull at her arm, bending over a bit so he could throw her over his head and to the ground in front of him, twisting around to pin her to the floor. Feet on her legs, hands on her shoulders, knees on her hands. Tom hated this, hated it so much. He was doing his best not to hurt her, but dammit, he couldn't help but wince a little while looking down at her. ”You complete bitch,” he hissed, hoping to hell that nobody other than them wanted to use the study room today. It wouldn't be good if anyone walked in on this, though he'd probably have some bruises on his neck to prove that it had been self defense. ”You have some major temper issues, y'know? Did y'know that you'd be kicked out of the school if you killed me? And you're only in your fucking first year, so don't waste your time here.” God, if killing another student was that bad, how much trouble was he going to get in if anyone found out that he was trying to kill the dance teacher? He couldn't think about that now, though. Not when he had some damned music student pinned to the ground under him. Well, at least he was getting to practice some of the skills he hadn't used since he had wrestled with his brothers at a young age. There was a positive side to everything, right? That thought almost made him laugh, but not quite. Judging on how quick she had been to attack him when he had just thrown her journal on a table, he was guessing that this was as close to a life or death scenario as he had ever been. All of this because he had touched her journal, too. Overreaction much? ”I just gave it to you, asshole. You don't need to try and kill be just because of that. I didn't even read it.” Well, that wasn't exactly true. He'd seen a few words when he'd grabbed it, but based on the minimal information that he had seen, he didn't really want to get any deeper into Corriana's thoughts. Especially not if she fancied herself a murderer. No, that was his job, not this kid's. It wasn't as if he was possessive of his spot in the Calabrian mafia or anything, but Cori seemed fucked up enough already. Surprisingly, she was like a sister to him, and he didn't want her getting in trouble for some stupid impulse to protect some stupid mobile therapist. ”Just calm down. If I let you up, are you going to attack me again?” A tiny bit of the adrenaline was beginning to fade, but that was enough to allow him to look rationally at the situation and give the midget a choice. It wasn't as if he expected her to be honest, but he was pretty sure that he could tell if she was lying. It was hard to lie under stress like this, after all. words (820) tag (cori) notes (thanks to pluto for her guruness and fighting tutorials)

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[hitoban]

WELL SHE LIVES IN A F A I R Y T A L E

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Cori had him. She had him, and she wasn't letting go. He struggled under her for a minute, clearly putting full effort to defend himself. But Cori didn't care. It wasn't as if she was going to kill him or anything. She wasn't stupid. But she was going to put him under, and then maybe vandalize his face or something...draw a mustache or a penis or something. She knew the consequences of killing him would be far too numerous, and now that she was hanging there, she had time to settle down and think about it. She was still pissed as hell, but she wouldn't kill him. Just when she thought he would drop, he found his balls.

He ripped her off of him like a band-aid and tossed her to the floor like a rag doll. She should have known he would be stronger than her. He didn't quite look it from the outside, but he had to have enough muscle to lug around those huge bones of his. She wasn't as scrawny as she looked either, but even she couldn't hold on with that move. She hit the ground, hard. The air seeped from her lungs in a wheeze, and she saw stars. She tried to get up immediately, but her body wouldn't cooperate. She found herself pinned. She struggled while he lectured her about how murder's a crime, trying unsuccessfully to get up. She considered bashing foreheads, but she thought his head would be too hard. When she finally stopped writhing, she glared up into his face. But it wasn't his face. It was her father's. She blanched, freezing with fear. She didn't move. She didn't breathe. She just stared into the same face she'd stared into so many sleepless nights before. She was vulnerable, pinned on her back, just like she'd always been. She couldn't scream. No one would hear her. No one would care. She just had to lie there and take it. She gritted her teeth, just waiting. But the pain never came. She waited and waited. And then, she blinked. Her father was gone, and Tommy replaced him. His face was normal now, not quite so angry-looking. He was trying to be reasonable. She hadn't heard what he'd said, but she had to get up. She had to get up before the emotion got out. She started rocketing back and forth again, bashing against his arms, trying to get free. She rolled her torso to the side, but he stayed firm, keeping her shoulders pinned. She couldn't take it. She couldn't take it!

"Get the fuck off me!" The curse echoed through the room, but she knew no one would hear. They were too far back in the library. She fought, but it was no use. She was stuck, this man far too firm for her to escape. And then it happened. The thing she never wanted to do, but did every night anyway. The one thing no one saw because it leaked out in ink on a page instead. Cori began to cry. She didn't sob, but fat tears rolled out of her eyes and down her temples, passing over her ears and soaking into her hair. She couldn't stop. She kept seeing visions of her father, hearing his voice in her ear and smelling his breath in her nostrils. He was everywhere, and she couldn't even see Tommy anymore. The tears blurred her vision, and she let out one soft, pitiful sob. Her will was broken. She stopped moving, and she took a breath. Then she opened her mouth, and squeaked out, "Please..."

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FORGOTTEN THE TASTE AND SMELL

TAG ! tommy
WORDS ! 602
OUTFIT ! clickeh
NOTES ! poor girl. she's so traumatized.
CREDIT ! DELYSSIOUS !
SONG ! brick by boring brick --- paramore

OF A WORLD THAT SHE'S LEFT BEHIND[/FONT][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[tommas ugo renda]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » LET IT OUT. Tom hadn't been trying to make a point, but it seemed that he had managed to make one anyway. It made him uncomfortable to see Corriana crying; she was the bitchiest cat he'd ever met, and watching someone like that cry just gave him a bad feeling in his gut. ”Cat, don't do this to yourself,” he managed to plead before she started crying in earnest. God, what had he done to deserve this? Touched her journal? He didn't see why she was so protective of the damn thing, but of course he couldn't. Tom rarely got emotionally attached to people, and it was nearly impossible for him to treasure objects like Corriana treasured her journal, so how could he understand how important Cori's journal was to her? He didn't know about the whole trauma thing, either, so the tears just seemed like a huge overreaction to him. ”Seriously, Cat, I'm not even hurting you... stop crying, Cat.” Tom didn't think he was hurting her, but he hadn't done this in a long time, so he might have been. He was a lot heavier than Corriana, but unless he was making some glaring error in the way he was pinning her down, that shouldn't have made a difference in how much it was hurting her. He'd been able to muster up the willpower and strength to keep her pinned when she had been fighting and struggling to get free, because with that much energy, she could still have been a pretty large threat to him. But now? She just looked like some seriously upset kid, and how could he keep something like that pinned to the floor? And it had honestly looked like she had been expecting him to hurt her, too. Why in hell would he do that? He was asking too many questions, and that was worrying, but oddly enough, Corriana was his first priority right now. He needed to make her stop crying, because how could he just leave and let her destroy herself from the inside? That was why he had told her that she couldn't do this to herself, because dammit, if she was as really as tough as she liked to say, then this wouldn't be happening right now. Either he had done something worse than he had meant to do, or something was wrong with her, and he was pretty sure it was the second one. No, Cori wouldn't be sobbing like this if she was as stone hard as she made herself out to be, not at all. Up until now, both of them had been acting pretty animalistic; listening to their impulses and acting on them, getting defensive and scared and everything else that was programmed into an animal's nature. Tom saw no reason for that to change now, so he released her from his weight as slowly as possible, trying not to startle her by making any sudden movements, and soon enough he was sitting by her side, looking down at her and playing with his lip ring nervously. ”Cat, are you okay..? Listen, I'm really sorry...” Even if she was a bitch, and even if her annoyingly dismissive tone had pulled some bad memories out of the depths of his mind, Tom knew when to back off. He wasn't an idiot or anything, even if it may have seemed like it sometimes, and he knew that he had hurt her more than she had hurt him. Maybe not physically, but it was still clear that she was hurt, and that just made the protective little monster in Tom's chest wake up. Of course, since it was him that had hurt her, all his anger was also directed at himself. ”Cat, please don't be mad at me.” But after all, how could he expect her to forgive him for this, even if he still didn't know what he had done that had scared her so much? words (656) tag (cori) notes (yes, it's bad, i know. and tom is really worried)

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[hitoban]

WELL SHE LIVES IN A F A I R Y T A L E

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SOMEWHERE TOO FAR FOR US TO FIND[/FONT]

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This was so stupid. Cori hated crying. But she hated crying in front of people even more. And yet there she was, uncontrollably crying, laying on the floor, pinned by a man. She was useless, hopeless, and powerless. She would never be strong enough to defend herself, and she'd always be taken advantage of. Her mind raced with self-deteriorating thoughts, bashing her self esteem with a baseball bat. Not that it was very strong in the first place. Her self esteem was more like a glass bird than an iron fist. She'd always been very good at pretending to be strong, but inside, she was still a child. She was weak, defenseless, and she hated herself. She was so full of hate, it boiled out of her pores. She didn't know how to properly interact with people, so she spoke the only way she knew how. She spoke the language of hate. She insulted people for laughter, she tore down her friends and pretended to be joking. She rarely gave actual compliments, and if she did, they were usually laced with envy, thick like poison. She thought the worst of everyone, and it took a monstrous effort to change her opinion once it was formed. She put enormous stock in a stupid book, just because her brother gave it to her long ago.

She could still remember the day she got it. It looked a lot more new then. The leather was clean, dark red. The pages were only slightly yellow. The cover was more stiff, the pages more tightly bound. But upon seeing it, she knew it was special. Her brother handed it to her and wiped the tears from her eyes. It will get better, he said. He promised that it would get better. And until it does, I want you to use this journal. Write down your thoughts, your dreams, your hopes-whatever you want. And when you run out of pages, I'll get you some more. And she'd been using it ever since. The first batch of pages were frighteningly dark, with child-like renderings of terrifying images, and dark poetry. She wrote down her nightmares, each more frightening than the next. But when she finally moved out of her father's house, they started improving. She tucked away her old pages in a shoebox. She takes it with her to every new home, and no one ever knows where it is. In her father's home, it was under a floorboard in her closet. In her brother's and Tammo's house, it was tucked safely in her room, up on a high shelf that she had to climb on the furniture to reach. Here, she didn't have to try as hard to hide it, since she had her own apartment. She kept it in her closet, at the very back of the highest shelf.

So it was understandable when she cried over it's damage. It was, essentially, the only thing she had to remind her of her brother. It was all of her hopes and dreams and nightmares. It was her soul. Creasing a page was like putting a permanent scar on her soul that could never go away, no matter how many times she tried to erase it. Reading it was like going into her mind and poking around. Destroying it would destroy her entirely.

While Cori had been tearing herself down in her thoughts, she didn't notice when Tommy got off of her. She continued to lay there, not crying as much now, just blank. She blinked and saw him sitting a little ways away from her, clearly giving her space. He was saying something, but she couldn't hear him. It was just a foggy blur. She concentrated and heard him finally beg her not to be mad at him. She vaguely realized that she was shaking her head slowly back and forth, but she didn't know why until she spoke. "I'm not." She mustered the strength to sit up, and looked around. She took several deep breaths, and quickly wiped the tears from her face. She cussed. Had she really just had some kind of episode in front of this kid she didn't even know that well? She had some serious problems she needed to work out. Maybe it was because she'd had a lot of thoughts weighing on her already before he came in. Maybe it was that plus his invasion of her space. Whatever it was, it was uncalled for. He probably thought she was mad as a hatter, and she didn't blame him. Now she was just angry at herself. She was pissed that she'd let herself break down like that, that she'd given in so easily. She stood up without looking at him, heat flooding her cheeks. She ignored the creepy feeling of someone watching her as she loaded her things back into her backpack. She picked up the journal, looked at it. She ran her fingers down the spine, over the crease in the page. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." What didn't she mean? She didn't mean to attack him? Wrong. She didn't mean to react so strongly? Nope. She didn't mean for him to see her cry? Yes. "I shouldn't have freaked out on you like that. It's just..." She didn't want to tell him, but she didn't want him to think she was crazy or hormonal or something. But she didn't want to tell him and then have him pity her, either. "I just kind of...have a space issue. And you...you got...well, you got too fucking close to me is what you got." She ran a hand over her face, stressed and upset. "Not that I blame you, I mean. I was...you know...choking you..." She fiddled with the page a little bit. She unfolded the creased paper and closed the journal, hoping the weight would un-crease it. "You creased a page of my journal. And it's just...an important book. My brother gave it to me, and...I've had it since forever...and I fucking told you not to touch it," she added with a bit of sting. Then she sighed and looked up into his eyes. "I'm just kind of fucked up, and you pushed the wrong buttons. I'm sorry." She looked away again, putting on her backpack and picking up her journal. She headed for the door, but she stopped. She looked Tommy dead in the face, her expression serious as a stroke. "And if you ever tell anyone about this, I will stab you with my calligraphy pen."

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FORGOTTEN THE TASTE AND SMELL

TAG ! tommy
WORDS ! 1,090
OUTFIT ! clickeh
NOTES ! had a huge burst of muse!~
CREDIT ! DELYSSIOUS !
SONG ! brick by boring brick --- paramore

OF A WORLD THAT SHE'S LEFT BEHIND[/FONT][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[tommas ugo renda]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » LET IT OUT. When Cori started apologizing, Tom let out a tiny groan and ran his fingers through his painstakingly styled hair. In his eyes, Corriana was just a tough little bitch, so it was weird to be a witness to this sudden personality shift. Maybe it was healthy for her to get her feelings out, but Tom didn't want to be the one she expressed them to. ”Well, I'm glad you're not mad at me,” he said softly, watching her as she sat up and swore. It looked like she was going back to normal, then. Or at least as normal as she ever was, though Tom wasn't the right person to judge on that. It wasn't like he didn't have his own problems, after all. He didn't think that Cori was insane, though. Insane wasn't the right word for it. She was just... stressed, maybe? From all the problems that she had been carrying around? No, now he was just beginning to talk about himself, and he was guessing that he and the little musician weren't that similar. Maybe they were both a little messed up, but in different ways. Tommy was simply being forced into a situation that his moral compass couldn't handle and was still trying to adjust, and he couldn't even begin to guess what was wrong with the little cat sitting in front of him. But then, of course, she started explaining. Space problems, or something of the like. It wasn't like he was really giving his full attention to the conversation; he never did. Nothing was really worthy of his full attention, and even though he gave a fair amount of it to what Cori was saying, he was still distracted by his own thoughts. Even if he didn't want to think, it happened. Of course it did. ”I know, I know,” he said, raising his hands above his head in a playful way, a smirk touching the corners of his mouth. ”I touched your journal, and I wasn't supposed to, so you sent me to the time out corner. Except more violently. School all over again, Cat.” Tom just couldn't help but try to lighten the air a bit, because it was simply getting too heavy for him to handle. He saved serious things for when he was completely alone, because then he could break down without anyone noticing. But when people where around? Even if said people wanted to be serious, Tom refused to play along. It was just his way to cope; just like Cori wrote in her journal and acted tough, Tom kept his real thoughts locked away in his head and acted like a complete idiot, when he wasn't busy avoiding people. He smiled like the Cheshire cat when she threatened him, because it meant that she was back to normal, and that was good. Well, good for Tom, at least. He cared about Cori, but not enough to put her needs before his. Tommy was just selfish like that. ”Just try stabbing me, midget. You won't even get close.” At least, not now that she had warned him about it. No one was good with surprise attacks, and that had been the only reason Tom hadn't put up a very good defense today when she had attacked him. If he'd seen it coming, the little scuffle would have played out a lot differently. Hadn't he learned at a young age never to turn his back on an enemy? Everyone knew that, but he supposed that until now, Corriana hadn't registered as a real enemy in his mind. Even though he still cared for her, he knew better than to consider her harmless. He wasn't going to turn his back again, so no stabbing was going to happen on his watch. Using the edge of the table to pull himself into a standing position, he watched Cori for a moment before nodding. ”Seriously, go now,” he said, laughing slightly. ”I'm not going to jump on you while you're not looking.” words (669... trololol) tag (cori) notes (are we ending it here?)

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