Quote Of The Week:
"If you don't understand my silence, how will you understand my words?" - Unknown
Current Status:
Working on a side project.
Feeling:
Excited.
With:
A crazy redhead
Thoughts:
"...I hope he's impressed with this one..."
IRL:
N/A
Story:
As a frigid winter gale ripped through the streets of New York City, a teenage mother-to-be had just finished grocery shopping for her choice of the night. A nice tall bottle of Vermouth, a brown paper bag crudely wrapped around the body and label. The ditsy teen didn't seem to realize that alcohol doesn't warm you up, it only cuts off the receptors in the brain that help alert the body of it being below the normal temperature.
Plopping her chunky frame down onto the park bench, she leaned back and downed a quarter of the bottle...half the bottle...
The mother truly believed nothing was wrong, until the first drop fell. Then another. And another. Then what seemed like a large bucket being poured onto her feet. Confused at the warm feeling, she looked down at the snow beneath her legs, seeing the small infant laying in the snow, crimson and pieces of unnecessary organs around it. Letting out a shrill scream, the young girl picked up the infant, unsure what to do.
The young girl ended up running to the closest hospital, which took the baby away from her, plugging the infant into the ICU. It would be days before the vitals of the baby could be determined. The mother was long gone, with no record of her even being there. The baby was given a name by one of the officials on her case.
Her name was Diya Ozaki.
Diya was put into an orphanage once she was cleared with good vitals from the hospital. She had never cried, or...at least what the doctors knew. See, her vocal cords weren't exactly fully developed. She could mumble, she could wheeze, but she could not speak. Her life in foster care was hard, since all the other children wanted nothing to do with her. She had no friends other than an old teddy bear she found from the child who once slept in her bed.
Turning eighteen, she was released from foster care. She was given two pair of clothes that would fit her, and about six hundred dollars in cash. The only thing she was told was there was a bus waiting to take her to the apartments she was set up with until she found a job within three months. Diya did in fact find a job, one that doesn't require talking. Since she was really good at sewing when she picked it up in foster care, she obtained a job as a tailor at a local shop.
The tailor shop has given Diya the chance to meet a lot of people. Business, punks, etc. It seems she is always stitching up some punk's wounds after a knife fight, or just a missed jump on a skateboard. They come to her, because it's a lot cheaper than going to a hospital. Plus, she's very friendly to them. They sort of...treat her like a sister, like family. Even though they are up to no good, she still enjoys the company they give her, even if it's only for a little bit...
Since getting this job, Diya has picked up sign language, finally giving her that voice she's been searching for all her life. There aren't a lot of people who understand sign language, but she always hopes she will meet that one person who can have a decent conversation with her someday. But, for now, a girl can only dream.
Relationships/Family:
Diya doesn't have any family, or friends in her life. But, she hopes that will change.
Appearance:
Diya stands at 5"6 with somewhat of a thin frame, though some curves are visible. Dark ebony locks don her head, reaching her shoulder blades, usually pulled into a side ponytail for work, or left to drift behind her in long waves. Her skin is an average tan, not too light, not too dark. Her eyes are a nice shade of dark turquoise. She is now at the ripe ol' age of twenty-three.
Facts about Diya:
~ Diya's job is one of the highlights of her life. Even if she is off, she will find something to work on, whether it's a small hole in the curtains, or fraying fabric of jeans.
~ Her favorite meal is any type of fish, but catfish is her favorite.
~ She has pets! A hedgehog named Thimble.
~ Diya is super kind and a good listener when someone is having a bad day.
~ Diya has always cut her own hair. She is secretly afraid someone will cut too much off and ruin her entire life of growing it out.
Rules of RP
~ At least four sentences for a reply. If you give me little, I'll give you less.
~ 18+ activity is here. So, if you are young, you have been warned.
~ I also love to Roleplay in many ways, so don't be afraid to ask for a different setting.
~ Have fun! That's what we are here for, right?
Comments
(Just checking to see if you're still around before I reply.)
(Finally caught up rereading our threads. I'll answer soon. I just can't remember if it's day or night in it. So I'll wing that, forgive me if it's wrong.)
(Holy shit! my Diya! I checked your account when I came back but I didn't see any activity, so I didn't message you. I got so busy with work that I couldn't write. I finally said fuck it and left that job. So I have a lot more time now to write. I'll poke around and see if I can find our thread so I can respond to ya.)
Jett watched Diya shuffle her money over to Raul, though apparently he'd yet to see the tip. A single green hue scanned over her and that gentle smile of hers. It was that innocence that usually coaxed an eye-roll from our red-head. But lately, he'd come to find out that he always had more fun with innocent ones; in more ways than one.
"Rule number one." Jett spoke, raising an index finger and placing it on top of the ten. He pulled the bill back towards the two, before pushing it into Diya's direction. "That's how you go broke. No unnecessary money." With that Jett removed his hand from the bill, leaving it lay in front of her. Clearly it was a sign for her to take her money back. The coffee was quickly placed in front of the two soon after. Coiling that same hand around the handle of his mug, Jett rose the glass to his lips, all the while not taking his green gaze off his little mute of a friend.
Was she human? Fully human? Did she know he was not? Sure Jett never kept his species a secret, but there was no need to run around flaunting it now was there? The glass thudded against the counter top as Jett placed it back in its resting spot, "What leads a girl like you to gamble anyway?" He prodded her brain with his own questions.
"Yeah yeah" Was Jett's only reply to her question of him working at this place. He supposed he did. Though he wasn't sure how long he could last working under his Sister. Granted she held rank over him but 'technically' she didn't. A child from Lucifer's own loins always outranked any Demon. Even if she was stronger than him. Curse him mother for that. "Maybe not for much longer." He added, realizing there was more scribbled down on the paper.
"Me make you a drink?" A chuckle crossing his lips as if she'd said something comical. "Of course not, that's what workers are for." He answered making his way to the counter and casually resting his arms upon it. "Hey Raul." He called over to the man behind the counter. He was a larger built guy, muscles practically stretching the work uniform he was forced to wear. Jett and his co-workers never got along, perhaps because Jett never worked, or perhaps because Raul was the only other worker aside from himself. "I'll take two coffees. Black is fine." Jett pointed with a small cheeky grin. Typical asshole. Still, why should Jett work? He did enough of that serving under his late master Amir. Those days were over. Jett provided for himself now, lived for himself... Well he'd always lived for himself, with those own hidden schemes of his. Either way, that was that.
A single green hue landed back upon Diya. He'd managed to remember her name this time. Perhaps he was interested in the mute, even in the slightest. She was company, company he hadn't had in a long time other than the occasional female visit during the late night hours. Sliding himself into a chair that bordered the windows. Jett beckoned for Diya to make her way over. Whether she joined or not, Jett was sure to speak, "Don't be upset if you can't do what I do at the casino, Princess."
The Red-head sifted through the box pausing at a sleek dark green color. He could make this one work. Green did seem to be his color after all. Closing the box's lid after replacing all the eye patches back, he spoke, "These are great." He complimented her on her work.. He wasn't used to receiving gifts. In fact, this was the only gift he could remember receiving in quite some time. A single green hue scanned over the box once more a tad taken aback. Though quickly his attention returned to the mute as she delved through her bag for what appeared to be a pen and paper.
Jett chuckled with crossed arms at the last part of her scribble. Him? Lie? Please.. They didn't call him the trickster for nothing, but even he didn't outright lie. "So you want to go to a casino?" He mused, his tone clearly giving away just how entertained he'd become. "Don't be disappointed if you can't do what I do." Jett playfully taunted. His skills at the casino, at the round tables, at poker in specific, just weren't fair.
The red-head shifted his gaze towards the glass door, examining the daylight that poured in. "Far to early for a Casino Princess." He spoke, landing that single green orb back onto her. "How about some coffee?" A grin slithered itself from one ear to the other ear. She'd stepped into a world she may not want to be a part of later. But for now, at least the two would get some cash from the casino trip.
If she was searching for Jett, she wouldn't have to look much further. Even though the cafe wasn't exactly her destination; Through the predestinely cleaned glass one may have noticed the red-head lounging on of the sofa's in the cafe. You see, while the coffee shop did have tables and free-wifi and whatever else that went along with a coffee shop; it also had a living room like area to it. Three sofa's made a 'U' shape, facing a large flat screen tv that hung on the wall. Jett's form could be seen lounging on the right-most sofa, a hand over his face as if to block out the light from the coffee shop. He wasn't in uniform, though most-likely he was supposed to be working. A white wife-beater once again hung over his shoulders, and a pair of tattered jeans were met with only a pair of white socks.
Jett was a simple man, and his attire seemed to reflect that. When he'd first met Diya, his clothing choice barely differed. So here it was, the grand cafe. Jett's home lay upstairs, though he'd begun to make the cafe his home as well. A few shifts of his body and Jett once again covered his face and dozed off.
Oh boy, she was walking up to him. He supposed it wouldn't be the first time he was slapped by a female. His single visible hue followed her in slow motion as she approached. That green gaze only blinked when she held the phone up to his face. Was she asking.. for his phone number? A confident smirk formed at the right corner of his lips. He'd never expected a mute to be so blunt. Right right... the Casino. "Alright alright." He replied, coming to his senses and grasping the phone in his hand. The other hand poked away at the keys before a name was entered.
Jett
It was followed by a phone number..
578-325-4570
Though Jett never carried a phone with him. He wasn't quite used to having one yet. For the longest time, he never owned one. Only his trip to New York left him with a fresh clean Samsung Galaxy S7 that he never touched. It was probably at home right now, on his nightstand.. dead? After thinking it over, Jett panned down to the address spot, and placed an address in. It was his own, and looked to be in the upperclassed parts of New York. Further investigation could confirm that it was a Coffee Shop. No no, he didn't live in the coffee shop, but in fact, in the suite above it. Marching right on up to his door was how most people got a hold of him now adays. "So you want to be a Casino girl?" Jett questioned rhetorically, handing the phone back to her at the same time.
Typically, women made horrible gamblers. Showing skin was the best way for them to get what they wanted. Hell it even worked on Jett half the time. Turning his back to her, Jett flicked a hand over his shoulder as a half-assed way of saying goodbye. "See ya around Princess."
(I figured the scene could end here since She has all Jett's contact info and what not. Feel free to start the next scene out however you wish. I just didn't see much more we could do here so I decided to send Jett on his way.)
(Sorry for the delay. I kinda lost the inspiration to write. I got bombarded with replies all at once. lol it was crazy. Sorry for any typos, I'm still getting into the swing of things again. Also your background is white, on my computer screen and on my mobile. Didn't know if you knew. I had a friend with the same problem. He had to change his background image.)
"Boy do you have a boring life." Jett spoke, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back while she locked the front door. Who'd want to rob that place anyway? What was she going to do? Hell, what was he going to do. He got his eye patch now, an extra always came in handy. How many times had he sent his sister to pick up a spare because his broke.. Far more times that he could count on his fingers. Yet, she still went through the trouble of fetching them. It was a good act on her part considering what lay underneath his eye patch could really fuck some people up; or even injure Jett if used improperly.
Once Diya turned and began on her way, Jett's head only tilted to the right in curiosity. Of course, when did he ever keep his comments to himself? " So now you're going to go home and sew some more?" He questioned screwing up his tone to sound like a parent belittling their child. Hey, anyone had to admit, that was a boring ass life.
Whether she turned or not, Jett was sure to speak. "Don't you do anything fun?" Why was he talking to her? His life to had become utterly boring. His sister was too busy baby sitting.. No lie, a Knight of Hell, was babysitting a Starcaller child that wasn't even hers. Jett knew she was crazy from the start; of course, he'd never tell his sister that or he'd be sure to get his ass kicked. It was just himself, in his little penthouse above the coffee shop where he worked. Well, he had to admit.. he had a pretty immaculate home. Perks of working for free he supposed. So how did he make his money? Well she was about to find out, "How about we hit the casino?" He questioned pointing a thumb in the direction behind him.
(Sorry for the delay. I've been crazy sick the last week and a half.)
The confused look was picked up on right away. As she continued to work away at her finger Jett leaned against the counter. "Your voice." He pointed out, green gaze sweeping over the counter and all its belongings. The red-head would be sure to leave it at that however.
As she stood, Jett pushed himself off the counter and took a step back. Personal space we'll call it. Surely Jett couldn't grant someone a voice, and to a human as herself he probably sounded crazy.. He got that a lot. Either way, he took a few paces around as she scruffed through her wallet. A small grin appeared on the red-heads features. Not only was she mute, but she was broke. Boy, wasn't he charming..
When she began scribbling, Jett once again thudded those feet of his to the counter. Who else would she be writing to. The store was empty. "So that's it?" He questioned to the paper and all its letters. "You'll go home now?" a pause. "And wish you has some money that you didn't?" He pointed out, a finger point only to emphasize his tone. So kind Jett was.. Oddly, he was actually one of the kinder supernaturals that ran about in New York. Kindness and blunt honesty were two different things he supposed. As she gathered her belongings the red-head began to make his way out the door as well, eye-patch in hand. He now had a second one. Always good for when one broke, snapped or, Hell, who knew with Jett.
Turning, the taller red-head held the door for his mute little tailor. See, he wasn't all that bad. "Going home to sew more princess?" He questioned rhetorically assuming she'd be on her way out as well.
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