Will you accept your fate or will you fight against the system?
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Posted: Oct 18 2017, 09:43 PM
Posted: Dec 1 2017, 10:49 PM
- is a Grey on the SSS Viper
- getting more exposure for her Violet blog
- started a rivalmance with MICHAEL GRAHAM
- best friends w/ ASTERIN SARGENT
- getting to know her SSS Viper family!
- doing illegal (graffiti) artwork on the buildings in Novas at night
goals and/or wanted plots: ic & ooc- get Silver sponsorship for her blog
- try smoking something of alien nature
- mixed Color romance
- discover her own mixed roots & biological family members
- have to kill a person because of her job
Posted: Dec 8 2017, 11:54 AM
both a little scared neither one prepared
Violet mother of three, found dead in her own home.
The headline hit the news a day after the incident, a day after the children witnessed the death of a parent. A day after fates have been sealed, as the event changed the family's future.
However, "family" was a stretch. As the news article went on, it was revealed that the Grays were unsure whether the Violet was a single mother of three or had help raising the children.
"The house did not provide any evidence that there would be another parent to live there, but the conditions the four lived in suggested otherwise. Certain was that after her death, the Violet left behind two boys, a 7 year old and a 5 year old as well as a 2 year old baby girl. The children have been taken away by a Copper and will be dealt with accordingly, being placed in orphanages."
Novas was a buzzing nation, with inventions, people, celebrities, entertainment and events flooding the news sections daily, and as such, not much attention was paid anymore towards petty crimes such as thievery or even murder.
In a new world, new crimes arise and shadow others, shifting the balance of people's morals. Somewhere between the years 3000 and 4000, murder had lost its title of the worst crime possible. New beliefs and new people crowned mixed breeding as the ultimate crime, driven by the ultimate illness - Color identity dysphoria (or rebellion against the Color castes, as some may name it). Nobody paid as much attention to crimes they began to see as naturally occuring, and nobody paid attention to the Violet's death.
"Investigations will continue, in order to find out who the killer is..."
You lean back in his chair and fold your arms, staring at the folder ahead of you for the last time. An unsolved case, cases that were supposedly still being worked on by Greys, but you dont believe that story anymore. The murder is so old now, the woman could have been your mother. You scoff, amused, breaking the silence in the office momentarily, and sigh resigned, disappointed by how the Gray system works.
The names of the children werent even made public, to preserve their privacy, and from what else you could read around, the aspects of the whole case lead the Grays to believe that the murder had something to do with mixed breeding, and right under that line in the raport, a big stamp was placed, denying anyone else's permission to reopen the case.
The ultimate crime... Did it scare even the Golds? It was so ridiculous to think of it that way, the leaders fearing a social construct - made by them. It felt like reading top secret files about alien experiments, after seeing the stamp. She should not have opened the folder. But still, she did. Now what? She couldnt exactly offer to solve such a sensitive case for the Grays and Golds alike, nor could she tell anyone about the hypocrisy in it.
You close the folder and stand up to put it back to its place, as if nobody rummaged through the whole damn office out of boredom, and snap back to reality, reminding yourself cases like that happen, even if they're kept hush-hush.
Posted: Dec 9 2017, 08:09 PM
character moodboard - ruby: a violet gray or a gray violet?
ship moodboard - miby #1: MICHAEL GRAHAM x ruby
ship moodboard - miby #2:
ship moodboard - miby #3:
ship moodboard - miby #4:
Posted: Dec 16 2017, 12:22 AM
Posted: Dec 20 2017, 12:50 AM
Posted: Mar 10 2018, 07:59 PM
loyalty • solidarity • understanding • honesty
respect • realness • support • comfort • trust • humor • advice • inspiration • family
ADLYNN SOUDUXIS (venus)→ as blair, neutral about
@[first last]→ relationship here
@[first last]→ relationship here
magnetic attraction • craving • affection • intimacy • trust • love • passion • teamwork • pleasure • relaxation • teasing
first last→ here
first last→ here
Posted: Mar 19 2018, 09:01 PM
why should i change?
Posted: Apr 21 2018, 11:49 PM
subconscious hints at something that blinds
Never been the perfect Gray.
Which is unfortunate, really. You're supposed to show people an example of how to behave, to enforce the law, keep everyone in check. In line. Like at an execution.
You shift on the other side...
Not the perfect Gray, but they dont know that, yet - at least. You dont know for how long you'll be able to hide it, though. You dont know how much of a good job you're doing at hiding your sins. The irony makes you the Gray who didnt feel safe.
A heavy sigh...
You fear so many things that sometimes you wonder how you even managed to become a Gray, not like it's a matter of choice, though. Your family was Gray, it was only natural you'd follow in their footsteps, even if you wanted to or not. It didnt matter that keeping crime in check didnt appeal to you, it was a necessary evil that you had to put up with for the greater good.
You remember this one time, on your birthday, that your foster parents at that time offered you their gifts at the same time. In your foster mom's box were a bunch of cop toys, plastic guns and handcuffs, a pretty golden cop pin like you've seen in old movies on the sheriff's shirt. To her disappointment, your excitement for the gifts only surfaced towards your supposed aunt's box, which revealed a bunch of coloring books, modelling clay and the prettiest crayons you'd ever have.
You've never seen your a woman slap another right across their face before that.
The fact that you dont feel like you fit in used to scare you when you were younger. You'd be scared that your own Gray colleagues would break down your door in the middle of the night, drag you out of your bed and take you to who knows what kind of dark corner of this world.
You grip your pillow's side...
That feeling somehow eased up with time, you got bolder, more confident of your own skills and you've started a blog, a safe corner for people with alike mindsets. Not rebels, but... open minded individuals. People who could see beyond what was laid in front of them, beyond what was meant to be obstructing their view. You had people empathize with you, and it no longer allowed you to feel like you were going crazy over what you felt. It was...good. It felt right.
Content breathing... for once.
Your peaceful state doesnt last long, and from one train of thought you jump onto another fast-moving train that feels like it's going faster than the light. So fast, that the railings get left behind, you watch everything fly past you from the open box's door, holding onto the edge tightly.
You drift into space, a vast nothing, which in return makes you feel just as little and insignificant. Thousands of stars shine in the endless horizon, planets and rocks dashing by as the train keeps racing. Just like your heart.
You slowly lower yourself to the floor of the boxcar, terrified. There's the abyssal silence, so unnerving, you can hear your own heartbeat as it tries to go faster than this train of yours.
Then, it all stops, you're not on the move anymore, just slowly floating away in space, little lights drifting by in the pitch black background. There's no sound, no color, no smell - and you realize there should be no air as well.
Your palm covers your nose...
To inspect your breathing, you move the back of your hand to your nose, only holding onto the floor's edge with a hand now. Your skin gets stained Violet, then, a kaleidoscopic liquid is oozing out of your nose and you feel like you're choking - but you're in space, that's supposed to happen, right?
You stretch your arm, and your fingers tap against skin. Someone else's skin...
...And there's someone next to you, on the train, in the back of the compartment you're in, but you cant see them, it's too dark. There's no light in space. You can just feel their presence, then, without a warning, their frame flies by you, floating outside the train, the outline of their shadowy body marked by stars glowing. They extend a hand to you, an invite to join them in the unknown, the scary, the dangerous place that is space.
You grab their hand, it feels like you're holding silk in your palm, and you try to pull them back into the safety of the train, but the fabric gets tugged away, almost as if it mocks you.
Your hand falls on the cold sheets, but your body craves warmth...
So you stand up in the train, then you take a leap towards the frame and the abyss hugs you, it engulfs you and your whole being.
You roll on the other side...
It's like you're floating in space, until your limbs crash against a burning surface - you're terrified that you've drifted into the sun.
But then, the sun grown and its rays turn from a blinding white to an astonishing purple, tattered by electric blue, then milky green and it explodes - claiming you as its victim.
Panting, you slowly wake up, while your hand explores the forms you're now pressed against, it feels like soft hills and valleys are uncovered by your touch...
And your eyes open, gaze lingering on the person right next to you.
You feel under your touch a trace on their skin, which you follow carefully, earning a long sigh from the man because of your delicate touch.
Then you realize what the intricate traces are, and as the word spells in your mind, DigiTats, your blood runs cold. Your heart stops.
Then you wake up for real, panting and sweating in your bed, this time alone, in the room only accompanied by the sneaky moonlight, and your cat sleeping at the end of the bed. You panic, stand up from your previously cozy bed, to go put on a canvas what you've dreamed. It's the only way you can keep yourself sane, use the muse, otherwise you know you'll have to think about what you've dreamed, and you dont want to realize things. Just ignore everything, and it will go away.
You have to go back on the Viper tomorrow.
halloween mini challenge
Posted: May 8 2018, 10:43 PM
e n e m i e s are endurance training
Nobody ever said that school is easy. The classes are fine, sure, you manage well. The community, though? Leaves a lot of room for improvements. Grey schooling is supposed to discipline the children, mold them into respectable figures of authority, into the ones others look up to and reach out for help to. The schooling should teach one to be respectful, to be loyal to their caste and the system alike, teach them obedience and teach them diplomacy for when it comes to dealing with high risk situations. Untamed anger, petty stubbornness, airheadedness and sensibility are to be worked on to be pushed aside as much as possible. At that time, it doesn’t occur to anyone that it crops bits of their personalities and that it molds them into some sort of trained hounds.
But obviously, at that moment, the future generation of Greys has bigger problems for itself as well. Not fitting in marks most of those.
You’re not entirely sure when or how it all went downhill, honestly. Teachers and trainers are very strict about confidentiality and following orders, as well as enforcing what has to be enforced. However, it must have slipped one day, the knowledge that you were here on your own. Maybe a child asked their parent, who happened to be a teacher, then word got out? You never questioned it too much, it was irrelevant.
What matter was that not everyone was as tolerant as you would have thought, but what can you expect from some teens, really?
You and your friend were chatting away after class, in the school yard as you usually remained among the last kids around after school was over. You kept her company until her parents came to pick her up, and waited until the orphanage’s bus either came to get you too or you’d purposefully miss it in case anyone you knew was in sight. It embarrassed you, to not have parents, or to be seen getting into different people’s cars now and then, fully knowing they were foster families. But the other kids didnt know, and you feared what they may think. So if you remained last, no one could see you ride with the orphans.
Except, as you were talking with your friend, the group of the rudest boys of your year exited the building as well, taking notice of you two. You knew very well how one of them had a crush on your friend, but she didnt like jerks with no basic human decency. Long story short, she had rejected the boy the other bullies so vigurously followed as some sort of group leader. He didnt take it lightly, but besides rumors and gossip which died fast, they didnt do much else to try to get on her nerves. That was, until you turned your head and had to do a doubletake, seeing as the bully group was approaching you and your pal. Were they coming for their “boss” to get turned down again? God...if only.
“Hey you know what, when you’re bored, just punch an orphan. What are they gonna do, tell their parents?”
“You know what’s the difference between an orphan and money? People care about money!”
“Wait, wait, I got another one! How do you make an orphan’s hands bleed? Tell them to clap until their parents come home!”
The group cackled like hyenas at the tasteless insults, clearly not meant at your friend anymore. At first you hoped they might have been talking about someone not present, but as it progressed, enough shame and pain built up inside you. Why would they take on you, you didnt do anything to them?? It was unfair and it was angering you, especially seeing as your friend didnt do much about it.
“Stop that, Grayson.” She shook her head in disgust at them, and you noted for the first time how you’ve never met anyone with a less original name before. The bullies’ leader was named fucking Grayson? What was his last name again, Grey? It was so offensive to be insulted like the last human by someone with idiotic parents.
You didnt comment on it, only glared at them menacingly, deciding to appear tough rather than hurt.
“Or what? Is she gonna run home to her momma to cry? Oh wait! Haha!”
Your fists, one at your side and one holding the strap of your backpack, they both clenched. How did they find out? You had such a well thought-out strategy, the orphanage’s counsellor said teachers wouldnt tell exactly to avoid creating such scenes and distress, and yet somehow they knew. You only told your friend, and she would never slip.
“If this is some elaborate plan of yours to somehow try to ‘charm’ me or something again, well, being a dick to Ruby isnt working.” She rolls her eyes and folds her arms, shooting a bitchy look to Grayson. He wasnt impressed either, his shit-eating grin only seemed to grow bigger and more smug.
You dont want to get into this, responding to provocation and getting into a fight will get you shit from the orphanage’s staff. Although, you want to punch Grayson’s teeth down his throat.
The other 4 boys in his group laugh, immediately imitating and mocking your friend with highpitched voices, muppet hands and all of the childish gestures. Then, Grayson shakes his head and opens his arms, walking closer to you two, getting up all in your faces. “Oh, you thought I’m here for you? That’s awkward, you’ve already established that you have poor taste in boys, and that you’re just some stuck-up little bitch. Just look at you, making this all about yourself, Jo!” He scoffs, his wolfish grin widening. Your friend, Jo, stomps her foot and goes redfaced with anger.
You, on the other hand, only feel your frown deepening, this time with mixed confusion and anger. Why would he be here for you, just to mock you like that? Did he get off from being a jerk to people? You swore you’d never be able to understand jerks. “Just ignore him and lets move.” You mumble to Jo and turn to the side, half fearing that if you spoke louder, you’d provoke the others, and half suspecting that if he got worse, your voice would crack and only earn you more shit from them. Jo’s parents should have been here by now, surely the boys will leave you alone if the car comes in sight. Before Jo can react, however, Grayson grabs your arm, thumb digging into your flesh on top of a tendon - which hurts, it makes your fist clench again and you grit your teeth, snapping your glare on him instantly. What does he think he’s doing? “Wait! I didnt say I was done here. I got a proposal for you, dont just walk out on me like that...” He offers a faux pout that looks monstrous on him. His personality is monstrous, as far as you can tell. Jo grabs her backpack, watching.
“I’m not interested. Let go.” Your words are sharp, like they could cut glass, and you wish they’d do that to him. You dont care to hear about his offer, so you wish he’d just drop this whole charade and grow up.
“But you should be! You see, a little birdie told me that you’re an orphan--” “You’ve already established that.” You cut his words short, deepening your voice so it wouldnt crack under pressure. He doesnt like being interrupted, and his grip on your arm tightens, making you flinch a little. “As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted: I realize that life as an orphan must be awful, because of all those jokes. And you know what else I realized?” You squint at him, not believing a word, none of his act. He continues. “I realized you’re much prettier than Jo here. I was so blind to see her as more beautiful than you! Look at her, looking all Red.” You got the double meaning of the word red, the glances Jo was throwing, truly offended and was she..jealous?
You understood then that it was a game of some sort, yet you werent sure of what its implications were, not completely and not so fast.
You yank your arm from him again, or try to, since he only tugs you back being much stronger than you. But then, his grip on your arm eases, so as to give you a false air or newfound safety or comfort, or try to dim the panic. His free hand reaches up to your jawline, his fingers coiling like snakes and he brushes the back of them on your skin in what he attempts to be a misleading caress.
It doesnt faze you. You tilt your head away from his touch. He sneaks looks to Jo every now and then, watching her reactions. Was he trying to make her jealous, by using you? You’re not sure why you’re not running away already. Maybe because they’re five in total, and you’re prone to tripping over your own feet in fear and anger and all.
“I dont want to see your pretty face go to waste, Rubbi.”
“Here’s the deal: you be my girlfriend, and I convince my parents to get us the biggest, fanciest arranged marriage wedding a Grey can ever have, later on. Bigger than even Gold parties! We’d be gorgeous together. Otherwise… what are you gonna do? Nobody looks at some orphan. I’m doing you a favor here, really. It’s not like you have a family to offer anything to whoever you’ll like later on. And prestige… really, I should be ashamed, my parents should be embarrassed, making some nobody my girlfriend. Yet I’m willing to take that bullet from society for you. Only for you...”
His disgusting speech leaves you with no words, you cant even begin to try to understand how someone can be so… entitled, so...gross, repulsive really. It makes your skin crawl. And who the fuck thinks about an arranged marriage as a teen?? What kind of household did he grow up in? Rumor had it that his parents had been matched by their own parents, no chemistry involved, only “prestigious genes”, and honestly you didnt pay that rumor any mind until now. You stare at him bewildered, not able to believe your ears and yet you believe him to be the worst douchebag ever. Is he fucking serious? Did he ask to date you after mocking and putting you down? You’ve never felt so insecure before, so hurt and ashamed of having no one to go cry to.
“What do you say, love?” He leans closer to you, brushing his thumb across your cheek, his boring black eyes flickering to your friend for less than a second before they focus back on yours. Jo straight up hauls her backpack on her shoulders and leaves with a loud “hmpf!!” sounding like a prissy spoiled kid, and it’s clear that he was doing this all to make Jo jealous. To hurt her for rejecting him. What a fucking asshole.
“Get your fucking hands off me, jerk.” You spit venom, taking a step back and pulling yourself from him again, this time you’re successful and you get to tighten your grip on your backpack. He doesnt like that either, and doesnt wait a moment longer before kicking your foot to the side with his boot, making you lose your balance and crash on the rough pavement. You scratch your palm and your elbow in the process, wincing in pain and pushing your bag to the side as it now only made the fall worse.
“Shouldn’t’ve been a bitch, Blackwood. Nobody would care nor notice if you went missing one day. Say hi to Jo for me!” His voice so cheery, it’s the last straw and it makes you break down, more so when his pathetic boy gang walks past you and mock you with whistles, crying sounds or dog barks. You’re smart enough to make out what each stands for, and as you move slowly to get up and not get their attention again, Grayson spits on you and kicks your bag further, then leaves.
You call yourself blind, stupid and a moron, mostly, but plenty other words get on the list after that. Blind for not figuring out he was going to toy with you, stupid for provoking him further and a moron for not having walked off before he and his friends even reached you and Jo.
You spend a few moments in your spot on the pavement, trying to hold in the sobs you feel coming out your throat, trying to push all the stabbing insults away from your skin but they felt too real. How he said the truth about you being a nobody, a worthless orphan, how nobody cared about your kind and how you had no one to turn to when in need. No one to hold you close, to teach you things, to kiss you goodnight, to drop you off to school, to make proud later on in life. You start crying softly, to not alert anyone, and you grab your cursed bag after you stand up, then head “home” up into the orphanage’s attic that’s always empty, where you can finally let out all of your sorrows. Tears flood your cheeks, staining the collar of your shirt and you kick your school bag only for one of your notebooks to fall out. You reached for it, tearing out some sheets of paper to wrinkle them up and try to toss them at whatever you could see through the tears in your eyes and after getting annoyed at not hitting anything, you reach into your bag for anything else you can use to let the feelings out. There’s not much to get creative with, so you just grab a purple marker and begin scribbling insults about Grayson and how much of a traitor Jo was too to leave you alone, on the old chest you were sitting against. Soon your written words turn into doodles..
cryfest challenge #2
Posted: May 22 2018, 12:24 AM
both a little scared neither one prepared
Once upon a time, there was a charming young man, whose destiny was set high in the stars with all of the other Golds. He was born into a life of luxury, gilded palaces and polished crowns and taught only the finest of Gold arts, such as diplomacy and strategy ever since he left behind his diapers.
A true Gold, who would, one day, rule the world.
Then, once upon a time, there was a loving Violet, whose veins were filled with wanderlust and whose eyes searched for all of life's beauty. She was kind and compassionate and spoke of life's biggest mysteries, losing herself in her own philosophies and spending so much time in her own realm of imagination that it was tough to figure out what she really was like. She was, in a word, enigmatic. And mystery's a charmer.
He, the Golden prince, the world's heir, the universe's ruler, fell in love with the way She, the enigma, the treasure hidden deep within the slums' rubble, saw the world. He melted in front of the fire in Her eyes, fire that only showed the polemic nature of her soul - like a wild cat.
He saw Her as a piece of art, prettier than any of Her masterpiece... and She fell in love with the idea of loving someone. His charming glances, smooth gestures and warm touches were nothing uncommon to Her and certainly not enough to convince her to come down from the cloud she always lived on. She saw Herself as escaping the cruel, somber reality through her art, living in the Elysian Fields among the gifted few, under the dense trees' cool shade, resting on top of the soft, green blades swayed only by tender breezes. Surely, various substances helped to make such fantasies into reality even for a little while, and He indulged into Her sins as well, although he could never quite reach the depths of Her soul.
As time passed, His love for Her grew, and She thought the same had happened to her love for him. Despite feeling so deeply, it soon dawned on her that she could not understand the simplest of concepts, of feelings - true love. To Her, it was such a bottomless pit to fall in, a pointless heartbreak waiting to happen - an up waiting to become down and she did not like to tease herself.
They belonged to different worlds already, and yet, their common meeting point had always been Her bedroom. At that time, they claimed they had plucked the paradise that Okeanos guarded and relocated it inside that very own room, where they could live happily after.
Except, as He grew more in love, She began doubting herself, her capacity to keep him close. Her focus had always been on exploring the uncharted territories of mankind's sources of muse, sources of art, and her goal had always been that to reach out to others, to connect with them through her creations, to inspire. But He... he was superficial. He thought that, as a Gold, he already had everything at his reach, and yet the naivity in him was unbelievable.
Certain was, the deeper he fell for her, the more she grew assured that it will not last forever. Weeks - they have passed that. Months - seemed plausible, he was loyal and he'd been blinded by her. But years? Could their little forbidden affair last so long? She was quick to realize what such a relationship could mean for her, the wild cat, always keeping her own survival on the first place. It meant stability, financial security, and it meant that she would finally get the means to reach out to others through her art.
She never let him suspect a thing, her facade never failed and her mask never cracked, for she had always been an enigma to him, now she was no different. In truth, she thought he might like this new sense of unknown, without knowing it was not in his favor.
So she began using his love as a way to build herself an image, a name, and to get it across art galleries, across the mouths of other artists, although she had promised herself that it would be the worst she'd ever do to him.
And each time she felt like he might be slipping away, be it with Gold issues, arranged marriages and those pompous 'heiresses' he always had to try to get with as per family's requests, each time she loosened her grip on him, she'd tighten it back again and lure him straight back like he'd never wanted anything else in the first place. All in secret, while he had to go through arranges for everyone's eyes, she shifted from being his one true love to being the mistress in the shadow.
But she didnt mind it, they were both gaining whatever they desired. She gained popularity, exposure, fame and he.. he gained illicit heirs.
The first, Malachi, had been her desperate attempt at making sure He did not bind himself to the newly promised fiancee his parents fetched. She picked his name, to symbolize his role as the angel who saved them both.
The second, Tanvir, he'd been born from a night of passion, both beyond excited about their achievements, about her newfound success and about his Golden accomplishments. Things were going so smoothly that it seemed that no rough patch would follow, and they found themselves indulging into one another as they once did in their youth. She was not beyond being cheesy and naming her second born something to symbolize how much light there had been in their lives at that moment.
The third... how tumultuous those times were.
She remembered getting attached to her children so fast, quicker and easier than she'd came to like Him. Her children felt like her true family and she found herself only able to love them, but never Him. Many times she'd asked herself if they were just not compatible beyond physicality, and not once had she received an answer from Apollo, nor from Aphrodite, no one.
Their third child had been born out of her own newfound love for tending to her own successors, trying to teach them her trade, singing to them, reciting poetry and painting on messy canvases all day.
But her initial worry had became true, the universe did not forget about it. Her fear of building something beautiful only to see it crumble right before her eyes was to soon become reality, as He told Her they've been found out.
After so many years.. the universe struck back. Was it payback for her taking advantage of his love? It was terrifying, all of it: the sleeping with one eye open, the constant worrying, the paranoia, the hysteria installed - there was no more peace.
She named her third born Ruby, for the crimson soon to be spilled if the threats became true. Her name was supposed to match her brothers, make something inspiring out of it, and yet, the inevitable was all she could think of.
And the inevitable came only later, it took its sweet time to antagonize them all.
He had always been a loyal man, and so was she. But in the end, it seemed that not only she was first and foremost loyal to herself.
As such, it came as a huge surprise when He decided She should go down, for Him to keep floating.
Betrayal, leading to a cruel death and three cruel fates, it had decided everyone's future in less than the blink of an eye.
Suddenly he was free.
Suddenly, there were three orphans. Unclaimed.
TANVIR DAVIS part #2
Posted: Jun 15 2018, 12:25 AM