Anyone wanna soap?
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:30pm
Thread Topic: Anyone wanna soap?
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Yeah.
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Okay so charries?
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Okay, I mite take a while though
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Name: Oliver Grand
Age: idk have to see yours
Looks: Has brown, messy hair. He has striking blue eyes that you can't miss. He has a small tan-- from painting outside! He has a slight amount of pudge, and not much muscle, lucky he's relativelly tall. He has a small scruff on his chin.
Personality: Even tempered and joking. He can be very sarcastic and mature all at the same time!
Other: His muse is his eighteen year old niece, Alyssa. -
Name: Lizbeth Mathews
Age:20.. I guess
Looks:Long curly orange hair, green eyes, pail skin, freckles across nose and cheekbones, pail pink lips, skinny and about 5'4
Personality: Can be very childish, can be quite blunt, takes a while to anger but gets really angry when she does -
i'll start...sorry xD
Oliver frowned as his phone rang from an unknown number. He hated answering calls that he didn't know who it was, it bothered him greatly. Pursing his lips, he unlocked the phone with the password, 2485. He pressed the green phone button and a man on the other line said, "Is this Oliver Grant?"
"Yes." He answered, wondering what it was. Possibly a doctor's appointment reminder?
"I am afraid to tell you that Alyssa Grant passed away last night."
"Oh..I.." Oliver's eyes welled with tears as the man told him the news. "I see..I.. How did she go?"
"She commited suicide." The man answered. Oliver felt like he had just been shot in the heart. "No way, there's no way...why?"
"I'm sorry for your loss. If we get any leads or answers, we will tell you. Her mom and dad are notified, and they told me to tell you."
Oliver nodded at the words, "Okay. Bye. Thanks." He ended the call. -
Lizbeth picked her coffee cup off the counter, she took a huge gulp of it. She looked at the clock and groaned, "I'm late." She propped herself up on the counter, slapped herself just enough to wake her up all the way. "Wow, I'm that late!" She grabbed her cup and hopped off the the counter, she grabbed her bag and left her apartment. She locked her door and bolted down the hall.
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Oliver didn't dare turn on the TV, he knew the news would only depress him. It would likely have Alyssa's death would likely be a story on the news, but there was no being for sure. Oliver didn't want to take chances. He looked to his easel, which had a picture of Alyssa on it- straight black hair, pale skin, a serious face. His niece was beautiful-- and he loved her, in a non perverted way, of coarse.
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By the time Lizbeth got out the door of the building she was panting, she hated how the elevator didn't work in the building. "Taxi!" She yelled out of breath, she whistled and waved her hand. Lizbeth ran a hand through her hair.
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Oliver wondered what he should do with his life. He groaned, feeling a certain depression coming on. He gulped his tears down and closed his eyes for one, blissful moment. He clasped his hands together and prayed,
"Lord,
Let Alyssa be safe with you.
Amen." -
A bit after a taxi pulled up, Lizbeth got in and told the diver the address. She relaxed and sunk back into the seat. Before no time the taxi stopped, she sighed and handed the man money. "Thanks." She got up and walked behind the building, she opened the staff door and as soon as she stepped in she heard. "Lizbeth Katelyn Mathews! Where in god's name were you?! We had to make Jamie cook! And we all know a dying monkey can cook better than her! I was almost worried!"
"Hey! That's mean m-" Jamie started from in the kitchen
"Wow, thanks, mom." She paused "Sorry mom, I slept in and I couldn't get up.. I got it from here Jamie just finish off, I'll get ready." She walked away with out meeting her mothers eyes. She really hated that she had to work for the family restaurant. -
Oliver frowned and left the house he lived in-- he had inherited it from his grandfather. He shivered. That had been a very dark time for him. He gulped, blinked and just kept walking when he left. He didn't want to be near the town or anywhere where there were any broken memories.
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Lizbeth sighed, she took the last gulp of her coffee and walked off to the kitchen. She started cooking and Jamie left. Lizbeth focused on the faint sound of the news as she cooked.
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Oliver continued to move, forward. His left arm clutched his other arm as he teetered down the street, crying, his lip quivering. He wondered why he couldn't control himself. He frowned even more, which sped up his sobbing.
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Lizbeth was cooking a bunch of stuff when the door opened again, "Help has arrived my dear, Bethy."
"Don't call me that, Wendy." Wendy mumbled something and stalked off to get changed. They cooked in silence.
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