F O L L E T T
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F O L L E T T submitted a new role play:
Bad Blood [ A Modern Fairytale ] - F O L L E T T x Set Me Free - What does it take to cure a fevered heart?
The story starts off pretty much like the tale we know. There really is a man named Gepetto (Joseph), and he really is a woodcarver. Joseph's wife, Maria, had always wanted a son. That is the only wish she had ever wished for, even up to the day on her death bed. You see, Maria was a very pale, frail woman. She never got to go out and enjoy the world. She stayed home, knitting small sweaters, hoping that one miraculous day, a little boy with fine hair like his mother, and a knowing, warm smile like his father would get to wear them. Unfortunately, pale, frail women aren't fit to conceive a child. So Maria, with her old, worn needles, clicked away at home, nursing a wish she would never get to fulfill.
On her deathbed, Joseph presented his wife with a gift. It was a a statue of a little boy, with a mop of fine hair painted on his head, and a knowing smile etched on his lips. It took him years to carve it, and it took her just a second to appreciate all the wonders that the little statue holds. Joseph knew it wasn't a real boy, but he could see, through Maria's dimming eyes, that she thought he was real. "Pinocchio," she whispered, and Joseph understood.
Contrary to popular belief, Pinocchio didn't turn out to be a real boy, and there was no blue fairy. There was only the constant harshness of real life, but there is still some magic. Maria passed away, and Joseph continued to be a woodcarver. One day, Joseph was going through his usual business when he noticed a little boy staring quietly into his shop. The boy was looking intently at the little wind up soldier on his front desk, his eyes never moving on to any other thing. Joseph beckoned him to go in, and so he did. "Does it move?" the boy asked, eyes filled with curiosity. Joseph wound up the toy, and it clanked away, the boy following its every mechanical step. Soon, another customer went in, and Joseph left the boy alone with the toy. When he came back, both were gone.
[ Modern Day ]
Stern, grey eyes drifted over each sculpted figure, taking in the fine detailing that each bore. No craftsman would have ever sculpted something close to perfection. This is something else entirely, it's almost like magic.
A lean, rough man with chiseled features and graying hair stood up from his leather couch, and slowly padded towards the kitchen counter. He took a sip from the China blue porcelain teacup he had prepared earlier today. The tea was still hot, sending a warm, calming sensation down his dry throat. It's almost time, he thought, while taking a quick glance at his pocket watch. My new statuette will soon be started.
--
Pierce's eyes suddenly shot open, while he swallowed a breath of air. He couldn't remember what he saw, but he was sure it wasn't something pleasant. The sinking sensation followed him while he got up from his bed and into the washroom. As he splashed his face with cold water, fuzzy images began to appear at the back of his mind. It was transparent and domed, like one of those fragile bell jars. Inside it was something bright and pulsing. Pierce wiped his face clean with a towel, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He has bags under his eyes, and messy stubble had begun to grow. It was 3:00 in the morning, and he could hear Joseph still snoring in the room opposite his. Putting on a fresh clean shirt, Vincent Pierce walked out of the door and began his stroll around the neighborhood. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and let his feet take him wherever they want to go.
Pierce doesn't go out of the house much, but he suddenly had the urge to come out in the open today. Maybe it was the dream, maybe he needed to get it out of his mind for a while. He didn't know exactly what made him go out. The streets were deserted, and the skies are still dark and heavy. A faint spot of sunlight dotted the horizon, but it still wasn't enough to illuminate the gloom. Well, at least no one's going to bother me, he thought, reasoning to himself. He must be the only crazy person in town to go around walking so early in the morning, and he likes it that way. No noisy stereos and sputtering cars, no boisterous men and ditsy women, no unnecessary laughter and offensive shouts. He stopped for a while and placed a calloused hand upon his chest, just above his heart. "Just like that," he whispered, "silent just like that."
Bad Blood [ A Modern Fairytale ] - F O L L E T T x Set Me Free - What does it take to cure a fevered heart?
Read more about this role play...Bad Blood is about a modern story of "Pinocchio," wherein an old family curse continues to rip through generations until someone pays the right "price."
The story starts off pretty much like the tale we know. There really is a man named Gepetto (Joseph), and he really is a woodcarver. Joseph's wife, Maria, had always wanted a son. That is the only wish she had ever wished for, even up to the day on her death bed. You see, Maria was a very pale, frail woman. She never got to go out and enjoy the world. She stayed home, knitting small sweaters, hoping that one miraculous day, a little boy with fine hair like his mother, and a knowing, warm smile like his father would get to wear them. Unfortunately, pale, frail women aren't fit to conceive a child. So Maria, with her old, worn needles, clicked away at home, nursing a wish she would never get to fulfill.
On her deathbed, Joseph presented his wife with a gift. It was a a statue of a little boy, with a mop of fine hair painted on his head, and a knowing smile etched on his lips. It took him years to carve it, and it took her just a second to appreciate all the wonders that the little statue holds. Joseph knew it wasn't a real boy, but he could see, through Maria's dimming eyes, that she thought he was real. "Pinocchio," she whispered, and Joseph understood.
Contrary to popular belief, Pinocchio didn't turn out to be a real boy, and there was no blue fairy. There was only the constant harshness of real life, but there is still some magic. Maria passed away, and Joseph continued to be a woodcarver. One day, Joseph was going through his usual business when he noticed a little boy staring quietly into his shop. The boy was looking intently at the little wind up soldier on his front desk, his eyes never moving on to any other thing. Joseph beckoned him to go in, and so he did. "Does it move?" the boy asked, eyes filled with curiosity. Joseph wound up the toy, and it clanked away, the boy following its every mechanical step. Soon, another customer went in, and Joseph left the boy alone with the toy. When he came back, both were gone.
[ Modern Day ]
Stern, grey eyes drifted over each sculpted figure, taking in the fine detailing that each bore. No craftsman would have ever sculpted something close to perfection. This is something else entirely, it's almost like magic.
A lean, rough man with chiseled features and graying hair stood up from his leather couch, and slowly padded towards the kitchen counter. He took a sip from the China blue porcelain teacup he had prepared earlier today. The tea was still hot, sending a warm, calming sensation down his dry throat. It's almost time, he thought, while taking a quick glance at his pocket watch. My new statuette will soon be started.
--
Pierce's eyes suddenly shot open, while he swallowed a breath of air. He couldn't remember what he saw, but he was sure it wasn't something pleasant. The sinking sensation followed him while he got up from his bed and into the washroom. As he splashed his face with cold water, fuzzy images began to appear at the back of his mind. It was transparent and domed, like one of those fragile bell jars. Inside it was something bright and pulsing. Pierce wiped his face clean with a towel, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He has bags under his eyes, and messy stubble had begun to grow. It was 3:00 in the morning, and he could hear Joseph still snoring in the room opposite his. Putting on a fresh clean shirt, Vincent Pierce walked out of the door and began his stroll around the neighborhood. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and let his feet take him wherever they want to go.
Pierce doesn't go out of the house much, but he suddenly had the urge to come out in the open today. Maybe it was the dream, maybe he needed to get it out of his mind for a while. He didn't know exactly what made him go out. The streets were deserted, and the skies are still dark and heavy. A faint spot of sunlight dotted the horizon, but it still wasn't enough to illuminate the gloom. Well, at least no one's going to bother me, he thought, reasoning to himself. He must be the only crazy person in town to go around walking so early in the morning, and he likes it that way. No noisy stereos and sputtering cars, no boisterous men and ditsy women, no unnecessary laughter and offensive shouts. He stopped for a while and placed a calloused hand upon his chest, just above his heart. "Just like that," he whispered, "silent just like that."
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