((Open RP)) Rosies RP Prompts

This is a weekly article, delivered to you every Wednesday. These articles are intended to be a fun exercise as well as a good resource for role-players to explore Character Development so please feel free to post your own characters reaction to the weekly prompt. So be sure to stay tuned to this blog for future installments!

What is your Characters most vivid or earliest memory?

Serena sat in the dusky gloom of the front parlor; the French doors open onto the veranda where a shaft of lazy summer sun illumined her face and a breeze played idly with the long lace curtains fluttering them inward then outward again like the old house was contentedly breathing. The sounds of the city seemed distant here, seemingly so far away yet just beyond the high brick fence which ran around the property. Only an elegant wrought Iron gate made up of handcrafted vines and blossoms separated the large rose garden from the street outside.

There she sat long legs curled under the old worn Piano bench; high black satin pumps lay tumbled and forgotten beside her while stocking feet pushed against the pedals, with long delicate fingers she caressed the ivory keys. Swaying gracefully to and fro to the somber melancholy of an old Irish melody, with sad eyes she watched the late afternoon sun lightly fall over the old Violin in the corner and the sweet smelling cigar box on the mantelpiece. The Fitzpatrick and Ryan estate had been entitled onto Serena after mothers death and a lack of Male heirs on her Grandfathers side, now upon her Grandmothers death the whole of the estate had fallen to her. She had complied with its tenants all her life, first her baptism at Our Lady of Victories, then regular weekly attendance to church, admittance to Sacred Heart Parochial, and later going on to Harvard, her Grandfathers Alma Mater, and then continuing her education at Founders Falls University and Teaching Hospital.

A birthright which had not been passed on to Serena with her Grandparents estate had been her Grandmothers dark flaming red locks. As she glanced about the deserted room to pictures on shelves and paintings on the walls she saw them all, her Mother Lillian had been endowed with these scarlet tresses as was her grandmother and great grandmother and all the Fitzpatrick women as far back as anyone could remember. Serena had waist length thick shinning black hair strong and silken which always seemed to hold on to the last scent of her perfume. She had inherited her grandmother’s bright blue eyes however, the color of sapphires and clear running streams. It was with these eyes that she now looked about the old House. This beloved house which had held so many generations now to be shut up and used no more, the fine legged furniture covered in sheets, scattered about the wood floors and thick Persian rugs looked like ghosts to Serena. When the housemaids moved through the rooms upstairs closing up the house Serena longed to hear the laughter of her Grandfathers rich barrel chested voice echoing up those stairs one last time.

She had always loved this house, with its curving banisters, intricate crown molding and Ivy covered lattices, and she had done ever since she had been a very young child. Baking cookies with Martin in the Chef’s Kitchen, making faces at her reflection in the funny copper pots and helping him polish the old silver which still bore the Fitzpatrick crest on the handles. The elegant parties her Grandmother had thrown where she could get dressed up in ruffles and bows and the parlor where she and her grandfather would play duets until she was sent up to bed with a curtsey and a pat to her bottom and later on she would stay up late and listen to the laughter and music float up the stairs like a warm breeze. She had grown up playing in the park only a few blocks away with Ms. Hathaway who watched over her just as she had done for her mother Lillian. As a teen and young adult when she would visit for the summer months every evening before Grandfather died she would walk with him through the narrow old sidewalks lined with tree’s and breathe deep the smell of the old gas lanterns which still lit up the dark while he told her stories of growing up in the Old country.

During the first eight years of her life she had lived nearly fulltime with her Grandparents in the brick federal style row house on Mt. Vernon Street in the old Boston neighborhood of Beacon Hill. Her grandmother had taught Serena how to read and write in her elegant hand, and provided the young girl with her first Piano a beautifully restored Steinway which had been her great-grandfathers in Ireland and a regular instructress. Since her birth however her Father Samuel D. Jordan had been trying to finalize his adoption of the little girl, and it was only during the summer months that she was allowed to see him. It had been her mothers wish but it had been her Grandmothers fierce protective nature and strong dislike of Paragon City, which she termed to be “wild and uninhabitable” which had slowed the adoption proceedings.

Mariah Fitzpatrick Ryan had not approved of her daughters choice to drop out of medical school and enter into the Army Nurse Corps and go to Vietnam. Mrs. Ryan did not approve of the relationship which had developed between her daughter and a dangerous rogue special ops Sergeant named Johnny Phoenix which had lasted even after the war and until the young mans death in 1982 or the hasty wedding which occurred shortly thereafter to his friend and tail gunner Samuel D Jordan. Pregnant by a dead man and living in Paragon City hundreds of Miles away Mrs. Ryan and Rosey Lee had rarely spoke, that was until Lillian had called telling her mother of her illness. Mrs. Ryan had wanted more for her daughter and now she was faced with losing both her daughter and possibly her grandchild to be. She had begged Lillian despite their shared religious beliefs to reconsider the decision to keep the child and to undergo the surgery which would save her, but stubborn to the last Lillian had refused and Grandmother Ryan had rushed down to Founders Memorial Hospital hoping for a chance to see her daughter again, but fate was cruel and Mrs. Ryan arrived only to have Lillian die on the birthing table before she had had the chance to even hold her daughters hand and see the light in her blue eyes one last time.

There was one big difference about her Grandparents home and her fathers’ home in exciting Paragon City, Grandmother loved to talk about her Mother, and Sam D never could bear too. Grandma Ryan called her mother by her first name “Lillian” and never knew a thing of her daughter after she went off to Med school. Grandmother would talk of Lillian’s accomplishments and how beautiful and pure of heart her daughter had been before she had been swept up into the tide of the sixties and seventies political movement and putting her life on the line she went off to war. Serena’s father called her “Rosey Lee” the name she had gone by when they had fought in the War Together. Lillian had been a Nurse and field medic during Vietnam and her Papa would tell her stories on his very good days of her Bravery and Goodness, The memories of her Mother where to mixed up in the war for Sam D. who had really loved Rosey despite her long engagement with his best friend and had been a loving and attentive father to Serena first out of love and duty to his departed friends and then caring for the little girl for herself.

However both had agreed that Rosey Lee Jordan had been a Hero.

Serena had been named after her mother, just as she had been named after Grandmother, and in fact every woman born in the Fitzpatrick line to which she belonged had the name of Rose. It was Birthright her Grandmother said to remember those women who had come before her and to remember the woman whom had given birth to them all.

The story of a fire haired beauty from northern Gaul named Rosalind (or Rosa in Latin), who had been found sleeping in a small boat which had washed ashore from the northern sea, she was taken captive immediately by those whom had found her. She had stayed a slave for six long years and befriended another child there whom was a Roman and a Christian who showed her the power of prayer. After helping the young boy, who would later become a priest, together they escaped their Irish Slave masters, and she had served the young Romans family and followed him back into Ireland serving him and the church loyally until her death. It was said whom ever bore her name would have the blessing of God and would be able to drive out the forces of darkness. Grandmother had loved to tell the story of Rosalind to Serena when she was putting her to sleep as a child and Serena herself had spent many an hour pretending to be the fierce red headed warrior striving to protect the priest from highwaymen and rescuing him from slave traders.

Serena could not bear to sell the place or any of her grandmother’s things. So she had had extra security installed and she would lock it up as it was. Nothing was to be moved or touched. Linens where to be stored and the rose garden allowed to run wild. The only thing going back with her to Paragon City would be her old Steinway piano. As the last notes of her song drifted out into the gloaming of the dyeing day she knew she would have to leave in a few moments, slip on her black high heels, white satin gloves and lower the black veil of her hat and she would slip through the city to the cemetery in the back seat of the dark Lincoln Town car alone and say goodbye to her grandmother and lay her to rest in eternal slumber beside her Grandfather just as they had planned.

As she rose and slipped on her heels, running a loving gloved hand over the black shine of the piano’s curves, shutting up the instrument and pocketing the key, she went to the front door and looking around the house one last time, lowering the small veil of her hat while a single tear drop fell to the threshold below. All of these memories of her earliest days had come rushing back to Serena, telling their stories like old women before a fire demanding to be heard. There was still so much more she had to do before she could come back here secure of everything, free of all her torments and obligations. She felt a change coming upon her lately, like a ledge one does not notice until it is almost too late. When she was delivered of her burden then she would come here to rest and fight no more, she would lead a peaceful life of safety and gather those she loved around her where they need not fear the darkness anymore. This she vowed as she slid into the smooth back seat, and moving silently through the dusky streets she said goodbye.

Nice work Cyrsei!

((Thank you, I hope I can encourage more people each week to join me. I really love to read and to learn about other characters and what motivates them. ))

Amazingly vivid and alive, thank you! I really enjoyed reading this!

Nice read,

but alas, another prompt I really can't think of anything particularly interesting to say without getting into woobie "I remember the day my parents were killed by Preatorian PPD" sob story.

maybe I'll think of something when I get home, or there's always next prompt.

((Very well done phobia, you can really sympathize with the situation your character is in and the visuals are wonderful, how the bright and shinning beauty we see as children can be easily swept away as we are adults. Thank you for posting.))

Quote:

Originally Posted by Vyver Nice read, but alas, another prompt I really can't think of anything particularly interesting to say without getting into woobie "I remember the day my parents were killed by Preatorian PPD" sob story. maybe I'll think of something when I get home, or there's always next prompt.

((I would definitely like to read something once you feel inspired, but remember dont be to choosy or else you'll never post! Sometimes its the hard things, the betrayals, the sorrows the hokey things in life which really give a character depth so dont hold back ))

((I hope everyone is enjoying this weekly thread I know I am!))

Thanks Cyrsei, I thought yours was wonderful and yes it did inspire me. I look forward to more.

((Added a string version of the song which Serena was playing on the Piano))

Tired and beaten the wrench-wielding girl sat down on the edge of the stained and dirt cot underneath the streets of Imperial City. Bent over she unlaced her boots and sat them on the ground before being stricken with another coughing fit. Clearing her throat she continued ridding herself off all the little odds and ends strapped around her that made sleeping difficult. Feeling ill she wasted no time and finished off by letting her punkish dyed green hair out of its tight pony tail and drape over her shoulders. Finally free she laid down on the stiff cot and tucked her head into the pillow and drifted to a shallow sleep.

Fuzzy images swirled around forming complex shapes, faceless figures and Jessica started dreaming of her family. Sitting around the T.V. Jessica watched her 6 year self curled up next to her twin sister Carmen on the floor as they watched, their parents sat behind them. The day had come to a quiet close as the family settled in for the night, dinner was eaten, the girl's homework was done and the only thing left to do was get ready to bed. Picking up the girls Jessica's father started carrying them to their room when the doorbell rang.

Putting the children in the back room and answering the door their parents were greeted by two police officers. When asked what's wrong the two troopers stepped aside as the house grew dark, the air grew chill and the figure of Preator Tilman walked into the foyer. Even worse, declaring that she was here for Carmen. Her voice rang in Jessica's head, as clear as the day it happened,

"My seers have sensed a growing psychic presence in this house. I believe it is your young daughter Carmen. As you are well aware as citizens of Preatoria, we do out best to take care of budding psychics before their powers do harm to them. Frankly, I'm here to save your daughter."

On the verge of tears her parents stalled for time, asking every question that came to their mind, buying off the inevitable. Just then the two girls wandered into the living room honestly confused, impatient and uncaring the PPD officers grabb ed Carmen by the arm only to be flung into the wall by an invisible force. "Carmen!" her mother shouted, grabbing and holding the girl tightly against her chest. But it was too late. The two officers recovered from the floor and pulled her parents away as Tilman took the young girl by the hand. The next thing Jessica saw was the door closing as the woman left with her sisters, her parents protesting angrish slurs, the remaining officers looking angrier by the second, and then a flash.

Jessica's memory lurched forward as she dreamed of the following weeks, alone and cold on the street, wrapped in a blanket she had shared with her sister. She was completely alone as she watched people walk by. Her dream sped forward again as she saw herself adopted by the resistance, another flash and she saw herself training with them, learning their ways, learning of the horrors of Tyrant, and living with them like a makeshift family. But no amount of love from strangers could rest her spirit. Her dream skipped beats again as she saw herself growing colder, but stronger. She heightened her physical state to the closet to perfection she could, taking on whole teams of PPD with nothing but a wrench. And interestingly enough, the stronger she became, the more the Resistance accepted her and the more she enjoyed it. And as her dream flashed she woke up.

((Great visualization there Vy, the imagery of her dirty surroundings really made an impact. The only advice I can give is to proof read and don't rush yourself, even if you have to break up the events into several short pieces. Thank you very much for posting this I would really enjoy reading more.))







Edit: due to being hardly awake when I wrote this.

((And this one, again awake Seer Taboo, just remembering. And I will do no more old ones, I promise. ))

((Wow your really on a roll Mind O.O well done!))