Post by Diana Hardwick on Dec 14, 2008 19:52:47 GMT -5
Grabbing her bag, Diana pulled her jacket tigher around her and hopped lightly out of her small car, stopping a minute to revel in the drizzle before slamming the car door behind her, marvelling at how the simple sound broke the silence on the deserted road so sharply. She glanced at her reflection in the window and her mouth twisted in an odd cross between a smile and a frown. She was tempted to giggle at how ridiculous she looked, a cross between Morticia Addams and Old MacDonald with her pale skin and dark braid set off so starkly by the huge brimmed hat she wore.
Well, it's like they always say, function over fashion she thought to herself as she took in the rest of the picture. She always felt somehow let down by her reflection. She had always been abnormally pale as a human, partly due to her aunt's obsession with avoiding consumption. The woman Diana commonly called 'The Tyrant' had insisted that all children be kept indoors at all times when not attending mass, and as the Countess had been the owner of the land the rest of the family rented from her, Diana's parents had had no choice but to obey. As a result, she had never had the chance to develop the healthy colour only sun could provide. Add to that the deathly pallor of a vampire and, well, she looked more like a ghost than a 'creature of the night'.
Turning away from the offending glass, she quickly darted in between the trees, heading for the clearing she had seen on her map, partway up the mountain. A human would have taken an hour or two to get there, but it only took her a mere minute or two to reach the spot where the overhanging branches parted, allowing the dreary clouds to be visible above a small patch of sodden ground. Spotting a large rock to one side of the opening, she removed her jacket and spread it over the makeshift seat, settling herself on it before opening her bag and pulling out a notepad and pen, adjusting her hat so that it sheltered her crossed legs and opening the pad. Looking around, she began to tap her teeth with the pen as she tried to think of an idea for her new story.
Well, it's like they always say, function over fashion she thought to herself as she took in the rest of the picture. She always felt somehow let down by her reflection. She had always been abnormally pale as a human, partly due to her aunt's obsession with avoiding consumption. The woman Diana commonly called 'The Tyrant' had insisted that all children be kept indoors at all times when not attending mass, and as the Countess had been the owner of the land the rest of the family rented from her, Diana's parents had had no choice but to obey. As a result, she had never had the chance to develop the healthy colour only sun could provide. Add to that the deathly pallor of a vampire and, well, she looked more like a ghost than a 'creature of the night'.
Turning away from the offending glass, she quickly darted in between the trees, heading for the clearing she had seen on her map, partway up the mountain. A human would have taken an hour or two to get there, but it only took her a mere minute or two to reach the spot where the overhanging branches parted, allowing the dreary clouds to be visible above a small patch of sodden ground. Spotting a large rock to one side of the opening, she removed her jacket and spread it over the makeshift seat, settling herself on it before opening her bag and pulling out a notepad and pen, adjusting her hat so that it sheltered her crossed legs and opening the pad. Looking around, she began to tap her teeth with the pen as she tried to think of an idea for her new story.