--like a china doll

[Eden/Elinor Viktoria Casadav]

I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF

[/color][/font]
because I don't know how[/color][/font][/i]

AND THEY LOVE ME FOR IT[/color][/font]
honestly, i'll be here for awhile[/color][/font][/i]

[/center]

OOC: When the cello part kicks in, you could give [link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5C99JyP2ns
]this

[/link] a listen to get an idea of what she's hearing and singing. Its sheer beauty.
It was cold. Eden sat on the ground in a heap, her legs bent and awkward angles beneath her. She looked like an old, worn out china doll who's painted face had been tarnished, then tossed aside when nobody wanted to play with her anymore. No, that wasn't right. Dolls were made of glass, they can break. People are more careful with you if you're beautiful, porcelian, and valuable. People are more careful when you're a helpless object, as long as you have value. Eden was not a doll. She was not valuable, beautiful, or made of glass...but still she could break. Inside the glass shards of her broken soul were scattered and stabbed her...but nobody could see it. Nobody could fix her.
I can.
"No you can't." She spoke aloud, hearing the voice, her own voice so clearly inside her head. It sounded like her...but it wasn't. Wasn't even close.
You'd be nowhere without me Eden.
"I wouldn't be here."
You deserve to be here, you're a killer-
She began to sing to herself. I can't hear you, i can't hear you. Soon her voice was drowned out. It wasn't Elinor's turn yet, she would wait. She always did. It was the waiting the killed her, that drover her-
Crazy?
Dolls don't go crazy. Just a china doll remember? Eden looked around her, the headstones that formed a strange maze about her. She didn't mind cemeteries, they didn't frighten her. As long as it was light, there was nothing to fear. She was out here to escape. It had crossed her mind to run away, to leave this world for good, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't be alone. She didn't like this place, this cage where you were kept like an animal that they could not control. She deserved it though, she knew that. She wasn't safe. But still, she didn't like the constriction of it. The small spaces. Out here, she didn't have all the eyes watching, all the walls, all the noise. It was quiet and dead. The people were like old friends, names and dates as a testament to lives she would never know. She made up stories for them, lives, loves, wishes, hopes, dreams. They were an audience, and with them in the beautiful silence she was alone. She continued to sing, her fingers going to their normal position. The fingerings, the bow, she sat. She played the invisible cello there in the cemetery to her dead audience. It began like lightning, striking then coming in a sorrowful torrential rain down upon the headstones. It abated, the sad notes, lingering across the place like a ghost, a ghost for all the souls that rested here. A sad melody of the loss, awakening them to her. She heard it, every note as clear to her as the world around her. No, clearer. A new reality that transcended the one in which she was now. A reality defined by notes, meter, measure, the very essence of what she now played on the silence. The full orchestra was about her as well, softly playing in the breeze, the leaves, the rustle of nature about her. The sunshine on her face. The notes controlled her, compelled her, became the very sustenance of her being as she sang them. It was happiness, a moment sustained out of time, the moments that came to her so rarely. Still, she could feel it, the crushing aloneness of the place that threatened to consume her. This audience would never hear her, no one ever could, the insanity was like an electric fence that repelled anyone from getting too close. They were afraid, they hated her. She was a monster, a demon. Her singing was more timid. She didn't like these thoughts, make them leave-
You're not alone Eden.
Get out of my head-
Your head? Whoever said it was yours...
A tear fell down Eden's cheek as she bit her lower lip. She was terrified, she couldn't help it. She was weak, and Elinor gave her strength. She was all alone, and was falling victim to the person who threatened to destroy her-
Herself.
.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[/ul][/color][/size]
POLICY: All work is property of Miss Balaclava. Steal and you die.
LYRICS:[/color]Blood by My Chemical Romance
OUTFIT:[/color][link=http://www.polyvore.com/eden/set?id=23055975
]here[/link]
[/color][/color]
[/center]

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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Anyone else might have found it amusing and vain, seeing someone play an invisible instrument. Often when you see air guitar or air drums, you laugh at the wannabe nature of the individual. You question if they really can play or if they simply feel it will make them look cool. You can't help but smile, maybe even shake your head, because it's a pointless notion, to "play" a non-existent instrument. And yet everyone has at some time tried it, or wanted to. A world of hypocrites...

Anyone else would have left with a smug smile and sad head shake, never wondering what tune was going through their head, never wondering what tune it looked like to them, never caring what made them "play." But as any such constructed thoughts in a mind would tell you, Jason was going to be anyone today.

Maybe it was a symptom of being deaf, but he was entranced by the intricate and yet certain position of her hands, each finger precisely placed, a note called to mind with each subtle shift of her fingers. Because of the absence of sound to his world, everything made music. Everything, every little motion, read to him with sound. He couldn't hear except in his head, but neither could anyone else. Unless of course, they were playing an air instrument. So he found himself imagining a concerto to her fingers, and even if he couldn't "hear" it, he "felt" it, a clear defined, sad tune, one that needed an orchestra so he thought that in, felt that around her and her stringed solo, his eyes watching her fingers speak the notes in waves of motion, this high, that low, that held out vibrato, that soft and dull, stretched long and flowing, this unconnected and strong.

After standing there at the entrance to the graveyard, off to her side, he couldn't help but clap. Another pointless gesture to himself, but to her... He did it softly, not wanting to make so big a show of himself. And yet, she deserved recognition for a tune she thought no one but her could here. If he was right, it was a tune he had heard in a movie somewhere. August Rush or something like. If he was right, and he tended to be, at least better than when he could really hear it. Motion and vibrations were some much easier to remember, so much more distinct to him. "Bravo," he spoke softly, a faint smile on one side of his lip.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 421
Date: 9/12/10
Cabinet: Cemetery
Inquirer: Casadav, Eden/Elinor
Status: Public
Alarm: Pleasantly Tired
Notes: I love that song...

[Eden/Elinor Viktoria Casadav]

I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF

[/color][/font]
because I don't know how[/color][/font][/i]

AND THEY LOVE ME FOR IT[/color][/font]
honestly, i'll be here for awhile[/color][/font][/i]

[/center]

"Bravo." The word had the effect of a bullet, shattering the transcendental bridge that she had built to her musical reality. The shock instilled panic, throwing her back down to earth. She whipped around, crouched like an animal that was prepared to pounce. Her huge eyes were snapping around with frantic fervor, half for terror and half for hope for who it might be. Her audience had been dead, and now the dead spoke back. She was no longer alone. It was then that she saw him, her eyes absorbing his face, trying to place it. She was silent, still, but her eyes spoke. Her eyes bled with trust, forming a connection that happens when a child identifies someone as a caretaker. The bond that is a results in an infantile mind to the first gesture of kindness received in their frightening new world. The hope of love, of new beginnings. The doll's head cocked itself to the side, studying him with her amber gaze as a new part of her universe. He was simple, yet handsome. A face that you'd seen a million times in a million places but never once thought it unpleasant or strange. It was familiar and handsome. Eden's body relaxed back into her former heap, and she blinked, unsure of how to proceed. She slid a little closer to him, anxiously, curiously. wanting to be closer, but not daring to.
Perfect.
Elinor's voice hissed in the back of her mind. Eden twitched a little at its presence, feeling as she pushed at the walls of her existence. Not your turn, not your turn. She just had to ignore her. Eden could feel Elinor's emotions, she was just as intrigued as she was...maybe even more so.
He's going to be ours, Eden.
Elinor's deep voice hissed again, but with violence that scared her. Yes, there was terror. Terror of what Elinor could do, but yet her muscles still pulled her forward. She had to have him, anybody, somebody. She was alone, and he was kind. She had to believe that. He would understand her, wouldn't he? She had to know him, to have him...and she couldn't without Elinor.
Without me you're dead, little one.
Eden edged closer, trying to hide the words etched into her arm, the words that betrayed her second face. He was of this place, she knew. Did he know who she was? What she had done? There was only one way to find out.
"You have come for me?" Her floating voice and broken English was cracked by her distinct Russian accent. They were timid words, precariously settled on the line between question and statement. It sounded like a question, but it was something more. He knew he had come, and Elinor would make sure it was for her and her alone.

[/ul][/color][/size]
POLICY: All work is property of Miss Balaclava. Steal and you die.
LYRICS:[/color]Blood by My Chemical Romance
OUTFIT:[/color]here
NOTES:[/color] I do too, its just a simply gorgeous piece. I love your character, by the way. He's very well done
[/color][/SIZE]
[/center]

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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He melted with her accent.

It was hard to pick up, a skill of lip reading that only years of "listening" to Americans could teach a deaf man. True, he couldn't tell what sort of accent it was, but that hardly mattered in this sense. Thank you, God; she's not completely American! He'd been loosing it here, knowing himself to be an outcast by simple voice inflection and he'd been treading water in the tuneless American English. A proper change for a proper young woman. And then he caught himself, hanging for a precarious moment on all that her words and looks had done to him. Those thin ivory cheeks, those lurid arched eyebrows, the close crop of her hair against her pale forehead and defining her perfectly shaped head, her face so smooth, lips inviting, eyes drawing at him for something he could feel but couldn't name. Wanting him.

But it was a little too late to pull himself down and ignore it: the building sexual longing had him pinned to a wall he didn't really want to pull away from. Out of mind, he knew he shouldn't be thinking such vivid images of someone so much younger than him, ten years at least - and a patient at that! - but in the end, he wasn't one to stoop to society and she was only encouraging him by scooting closer. Her body language was a mix of hope in mental and physical fulfillment, as if she was divided on what part of him she wanted first. As if she instinctively knew he wanted her, but was also second guessing which bucket to fill first. It took tantalizing effort to open the door with the chain locked in and start with a few inches, but her age forced his hand. Move slow, follow her lead.

In the end, he preferred that, but would she? He could hold that part down if she was uncertain, maybe she could too. Or maybe she just wanted him to move first, maybe she liked her men older, liked them dominant, wanted him to commit. Well, maybe he would. "To be perfectly honest, I only bought front row tickets for the music. Then you walked out on stage and I forgot to ask my money back becuase the talent was so good." He blushed as he drifted slowly toward her, knowing that upon the very first glance at her amber eyes he was halfway hard.

He decided to pull up a bit, not wanting to scare her, not wanting to come off as hasty, even if the ideas lingered. He stopped and stood looking down at her, hands in his pockets, trying to killed his sudden nerves with more innuendo. "So, what's a pretty doll like you in for?" He thought he'd caught it in her mixed expressions in body and eyes, things he could pick out more without one of his senses "Let me guess. Angel with a dark side." Flat, but he drew the words up smokey tone and a smirk. God, but this girl made it so hard to hold back. He though about kissing her, swore at himself for it, but didn't delete the picture.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 539
Date: 9/13/10
Cabinet: Cemetery
Inquirer: Casadav, Eden/Elinor
Status: Public
Alarm: Jumpy
Notes: So's yours. I've only ever been good at Jason's character type. ^^ I think Jason needs to get a room for himself...lol

[Eden/Elinor Viktoria Casadav]

I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF

[/color][/font]
because I don't know how[/color][/font][/i]

AND THEY LOVE ME FOR IT[/color][/font]
honestly, i'll be here for awhile[/color][/font][/i]

[/center]

Can't do this, can't do this, I'm terrified.
Let me in, Eden. I'll take care of it.
No, you'll hurt him-
I'll hurt you if you don't let me through.
No, I won't let you, I won't let you-.
I'll kill him then. You can't keep me in the dark forever
I'll scream, i'll scream
GODDAMIT EDEN I WILL KILL-
"Sorry..." Eden muttered her plea, a tear falling down her cheek. "So sorry-" There wa sa brief moment of silence, a soft blinking of those amber eyes, and then...

She sat up, brushing the tear away. The change was remarkable, instantaneous. The quivering child of moments ago had been replaced by something ferocious. The eyes were sharp, the breathing was even and controlled as were her movements. Elinor grinned mischeviously. She had finally done it, broken through the walls that Eden had been struggling to repair, teh walls holding her back. Eden was weak, vulnerable, prone to panic. It was because of her that they had been landed here, not Elinor. Eden was the one who had betrayed them. She had turned against herself and turned Elinor in. She thought that she could be tranquilized, pacified, even killed. But no, no Elinor was stronger than ever. Eden wad a child that could be bullied and manipulated, and without Elinor she was nothing. She was prone to fear, to the terrors of the night. Elinor reveled in it. She was done being stuck in the back seat, giving all the directions. It was HER turn to drive. Eden may have tried to trap her here, but this was Elinor's jungle. It was time to start hunting. She laughed softly, the laugh that was liemk the soft rustling of velvet.
"Yes...an Angel." If the change hadn't been obvious before, it was obvious now. The high awkward voice of infancy that Eden possessed was replaced by her deep husky growl. Her accent was as heavy as ever, but it sas controlled, mysterious, sexy. She stood in one lurid movement, cracking her knucles. So rarely was she in control of htis boyd, HER body. It felt good. She unzipped the jacket that Eden had been waring and left it fall to the ground. Free of the jacket, the oversized t-shirt hung in risque drapes about her body, falling over her shoulder, showing her skin. Eden really didn't know how to dress herself properly, but Elinor could change that.
Elinor began walking towards him, this new item of intrest that had entered her world. He was handsome, though older. She liked them better that way though. She slinked, growing closer and closer.
"Looks like you get the pleasure of meeting the...darkside." She was close now, so terribly close. God, it had been so long, it took so much to restrain herself. There was an emptiness tha thad been building up inside of her, and it threatened to consume her. With every stp the emptiness grew, as did her desire to fill it. Just as it seemed as though she could get no closer, she took another step. Her small tiny body pressed against his, as a temptation. She breathed softly into his neck and gazed into his eyes, as she alowed her hands to wander, trapping him. They massaged his shoudlers, stroked his arms and chest, traveling down to his hips, tracking the seams of his pants. Oh god, never had clothes felt so heavy on ehr back. She'd been trapped away and now she had been let lose. The preadator, eyeing the prey. She broke their gaze, her lips resting on the tender crook fo his jawbone.
"I shouldn't be here." She monologued, drawing out each word with her babydoll lips. "A girl like me...I can't be captured by walls and bars. I require..." She moved her lips up his neck so that they barely brushed his. "Special treatment." A smile broke on her face. She wanted to kiss him, the least of things, but not yet. He had to want it, be desperate for it, to want it so badly that he woudl sweat, would have is breath come in gasps. Leave him until he could be devoured by her. She pressed against him, her brests flattening against his chest to whisper to him.
"The real question is, what are you doing here?"
Oh, her question meant so many things, but only one mattered. She was going to have him..

[/ul][/color][/size]
POLICY: All work is property of Miss Balaclava. Steal and you die.
LYRICS:[/color]Blood by My Chemical Romance
NOTE:[/color] haha...this is interesting lol
OUTFIT:[/color][link=http://www.polyvore.com/eden/set?id=23055975%3Cbr/%3E
]here[/link]
[/color][/color]
[/center]

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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He barely noticed the change in her accent, five words not nearly enough for him to become acquainted with speech patterns. But he did notice the tear, the muttered somethings, the sudden end of indecision, as if the battle for decency and reason was lost in her, as if that "dark side" he had proclaimed just won. And he couldn't help but think he'd caused it. That he'd been the one at fault. It was a strange, uncalled for emotion, but he couldn't shake it.

The sweatshirt vanished, the first layer gone before they even touched, and he grimaced faintly at the way he categorized the action, though he knew it to be true. She approached with the fluid motion of a panther, a large black cat stalking it's prey, toying with it, an action he had not thought such a doll-like being capable of. Clearly, he was getting to see something that the girl he had "listened" to play the air cello would never have wanted him to see. Yet there was something that itched for him to screw the idea of the obvious personality change and accept the better movement this version made. He stood still, allowing her to brush up against him, to run carefully crafted and elegantly taught hands to rub him down, feel him out. The dim spark of pleasure at the touch of a women, even one with such a young body, but still so beautiful grew from there.

Hot breath caressed his neck and he swallowed, just for a moment lucid enough to imagine and wonder at how someone her age had become so...adept at the act of seduction - for that was what it was. It was a fleeting, muddled thought, one he could easily have placed to whatever reason she was here. But the words of her reply to that question were largely lost with her closeness and his being too caught up with his lower half to remember to look at her lips. Which, after remembering, weren't a bad thing to be looking at, so full with the notion of kissing him it was tangible. Special treatment called up a dry smile, at tightness to his eyes that revealed what his view of "special" was in this case. Her hands were too much then, and his sli his own up her outer thighs and allowed them to rest on her hips, fingers kneading the small of her back ever so slightly as she leaned closer. He pulled her in so that they were full against each other, so she could feel him and he could feel her and she let the moan slide softly, faintly.

Had he been hooked up to a cardiogram, his rapid heart rate would have flat-lined with her question. What the hell /was/ he doing here? Holding a girl ten years his junior, letting her talk him into something he didn't... Did he really /not/ want it? Hadn't he moved closer, invited her, smiled and lusted after her, breathed in her scent and moaned? Hadn't his body already said yes for him? So maybe she was insane and dark, but she was sexy and smooth, her hips shaped perfectly, her figure warm and well, not inviting, but wanting. Craving. He could feel it radiate from her, feel it radiate from him.

But the girl with the cello...

He almost didn't want to know what was going on, almost didn't care. He could care afterward, he reasoned. He could ask. He could...do a lot of things, but damn it the only thing on his mind were her hips touching his. "I shouldn't be here either..." he trailed off, glad he managed the rebuttal of his emotions and tried to use his head, but of course, he wasn't strong enough to really pull away. "Or, we shouldn't be here. Of course, I've seen worse places for foreplay..." And he lost the war, just as the girl with the cello had. He pitied both of them before getting too swept up in it. His skin prickled all over, hazel eyes losing the connection he had with hers, dipping lower and lower as he took in the doll before him layer by layer. He shuddered, bringing one hand up to her shoulder and puling her lips closer to his, not caring about protocol, only knowing he didn't want to window shop any longer.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 739
Date: 9/15/10
Cabinet: Cemetery
Inquirer: Casadav, Eden/Elinor
Status: Public
Alarm: Warm and Fuzzy
Notes: He's screwed...

[Eden/Elinor Viktoria Casadav]

I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF

[/color][/font]
because I don't know how[/color][/font][/i]

AND THEY LOVE ME FOR IT[/color][/font]
honestly, i'll be here for awhile[/color][/font][/i]

[/center]

He was aroused, just as she wanted. This time seemed so sweeter than the others she had encountered. Was it the isolation that had made her horny, or was he something special, someone different? Elinor couldn't feel, couldn't relate, only could feel the raw energy that was pumping through her veins. Still, somewhere at the back of her mind, Eden was wimpering. Wimpering like a puppy locked away and left alone
Shut the fuck up.
She did.
There was a bit of a pang, an unfamiliar feeling. Guilt? Elinor grimaced, trying to shake it away. She wasn't sure of how she felt about Eden. She hated her, hated her for taking her body, hated her for giving her...
a reson to care?
The thought concerned her. Did she really care about Eden? She was easy to bully, she coudl get what she wanted from her, but at the same time she felt an obligatory sense of responsiblity. Eden was her little sister, something to be coddled and tended to. Someone that, no matter what, woudl always come running back. Eden needed her, didn't she? She was weak where Elinor was strong.
I'm strong than you think.
Elinor pushed the thought away again, but it lingered like a ghost, haunting. Yes, Eden was strong in ways she was not. She had...morality. A will. A loyalty. People could-
love her.
No. She looked into his face, body burning for him to move on. No, Eden would not ruin this for her. Besides, it was in thier best interests. If they were going to be here, Eden needed somone. Elinor needed someone. She moved her lips closer. It was time. The kiss was slow, hot, calculated. She was pulling out all the stops, all of her bag of tricks. This one wasn't going to get away, not if she could help it. She pulled the kiss short, niping his lip as she pulled him. She grinned at him. "We could find somewhere else else. After all...its almost dark. Hate to have them think we got lost in the woods." Her arms were wrapped around him, her finger just brushing underneath the waistband of his pants, tempting him. Where could they go? She had no idea, but it was his turn, the game was in his hands. But they had to go somewhere, she knew it. She wouldn't let it happen otherwise.

[/ul][/color][/size]
POLICY: All work is property of Miss Balaclava. Steal and you die.
LYRICS:[/color]Blood by My Chemical Romance
NOTE:[/color] Gah, short post, but whatever xD
OUTFIT:[/color][link=http://www.polyvore.com/eden/set?id=23055975%3Cbr/%3E
]here[/link]
[/color][/color]
[/center]

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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They kissed as if they would be there forever, for a long eternal moment. But she broke it, nipping him, making him pull away but not want to let go. Her tempting fingers below his belt, his tempting fingers tracing the feel of a bra strap beneath her shirt. He gazed at her a moment, frustrated in the heartbeat that followed, but was smooth and regular enough to understand her wanting him to want more. She wanted him to be the one calling the shots, wanted him to pull her away and make the ultimate decision. Pity, since he liked dominant female figures...

Something felt off. Like she wasn't there. Well, she was, but not...not mentally, but...personality-ly...? But he didn't want to think about it. Correction; his body didn't want him to think about it. The girl playing the cello and gazing up hopefully at him made him grit his teeth to keep the edge. Later. He would think about her Later. He would...what? What would he do Later? He wanted to think about Now. And Now said take her to his on site apartment.

Jason debated decor with himself there a moment, then reluctantly released her, hands sliding along her curves, staying in contact as long as possible as he pulled away, retrieved her baggy, un-feminine sweatshirt and draped it over his shoulder. He returned, taking her from behind and straddling her decadent waist with his hands, pressing his lips close to her right ear. "I'll steer us out of the woods then," he whispered in her ear, pressing her toward the exit to the cemetery. It had to raw adrenaline now that allowed him to even walk smoothly, it being ages since he'd had a cigarette and this being something that easily found him shaking. His grip was firm, commanding and demanding, but gentle in a rough, tousled fashion.

The feeling of dual views continued, breaking in a spray of surf over his head. Two wants...asylum...two feelings of what was wanted from him...insanity...two-people? He felt himself jerk a little at the thought. "Tell me," the words were slow, soft, uncertain, but defying being told off, "do...both of you want this?" One side said yes, the other...he didn't know. But he wasn't about to do something to a body if even a part of the girl said no. He...he'd been taken advantage of like that before and could never force such on others. Not unwillingly. Some kids who were raped felt they deserved to rape others. Jason just left like he deserved to do anyone who wanted him to and no one else.

He left his hands stationary on her hips, stiff, needing to know, worried.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 468
Date: 9/17/10
Cabinet: Cemetery
Inquirer: Casadav, Eden/Elinor
Status: Public
Alarm: Bleary
Notes: Should we transfer to a different forum next post? *shrugs*

[Eden/Elinor Viktoria Casadav]

I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF

[/color][/font]
because I don't know how[/color][/font][/i]

AND THEY LOVE ME FOR IT[/color][/font]
honestly, i'll be here for awhile[/color][/font][/i]

[/center]

It was a mistake to put things in his hands. He was hesitant. He didn’t know quite what he wanted. Well he did know, she could feel his erection as his hips straddled her from behind. All she had to do was say the word and he would be hers. He, however, wouldn’t say it. Was it morality? Was it responsibility? How was Elinor to know? Those things were foreign to her. She lived in a world consumed by passion, and right now she had one thing that was vivid in her mind. To have him. He was cute, docile. She couldn’t give him time to think, he was going to fuck things up before she could fuck him. Oh, it sounded so cold; it was really more complicated than that. People didn’t know how to act on instinct anymore, to live life without reasons and stipulations for everything. She lived without boundaries, and lived to break boundaries for others. She had given him a taste and she would give him no choice but to come back for more. She was done with this; they were going to do things her way. She turned, taking her jacket off his shoulder while firmly stroking his leg. It was all about distraction.
“One hour.” She purred, still stroking the inside of his leg. “Be waiting for me and I’ll find you…” She knew where the apartments were, and nothing was going to stop her from getting in. Yes, she had avoided his question, but it didn't need answering. It was too complicated for him to understand. Eden was a separate entity, and for this time it was Elinor's body. Eden was unplugged. She didn't want to think about her. Elinor leaned in as if to kiss him, but then pulled away, disappearing off into the woods. It was time to speak to Eden. The thoughts were tender this time.
Hideaway little one. I don’t think you’ll want to be around for this.
And she wouldn’t be. She hadn’t before. Everything would be fine for her. Eden had tripped off into Neverland. A place where she never felt, never saw, never woke. A place where she could hibernate until Elinor brought her back to life. It was Eden’s way to cope. Weather she knew it or not, she needed Elinor. Life was too much for her alone. For Elinor, however, there would be no sleep. Not tonight. Tonight would be a night of violence and lust. Tonight would be a night to remember.

[/ul][/color][/size]
POLICY: All work is property of Miss Balaclava. Steal and you die.
LYRICS:[/color]Blood by My Chemical Romance
NOTE:[/color] *runs off to start apartment thread*
OUTFIT:[/color][link=http://www.polyvore.com/eden/set?id=23055975%3Cbr/%3E
]here[/link]
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[/center]