Afterimage

[Basics for posting in Afterimage.
This story is to encourage artistic development within role playing. If you want to put up theme songs, art related somehow to your posts, or make your own creations for the story then that is not only approved, but preferred. For art and music please put somewhere who holds the copyright and the artist of the work.

This also is true for Character Profiles. Forgot to add that in. Want a character theme song or other images? Add them to your profile!

Wax poetic or decorate your prose with colorful imagery and point-of-view related uniqueness. No reason to be long or verbose unless you want to. Just try to let inspiration guide you.]

The starting setting of this story is Chicago, Illinois. Your characters are in this city or at least on its outskirts. I have not been to Chicago. I will try to do a little research on it, but it is not important to get too wrapped up in factual detail. If you want to say a place exists that is not actually in Chicago that is fine, so long as it is within reason. I am going to be placing a psychologist office and restaurant that don't exist in Chicago.

Try to stay real-to-life for now. These are regular people in normal, everyday life.

Please double-check the Character Roster for Afterimage. I put out more character profiles on mine and anyone can post in the story if their character has an Approved stamp at the bottom of their character profile.

Feel free to post now! Keep it slow so that everyone can have introductions without getting bogged down.

[Attn: Open]

Time and time again the clock ticked out the seconds to pile up to minutes which would stretch into hours. Listless and avoiding coherent thought, a young woman with white hair cut short and sharp just above her shoulders stood behind her chair. She tapped the toe of her high heel out of rhythm with the tick-tock of the silver framed clock on a shelf nearby.

"I am just so... so tired." Her words finally broke the silence.
She gave a drawn out sigh and heavily put her right palm on her forehead in aggravation. She rubbed her hand against her skin and felt a bit of sweat. Thinking about what plagued her made her fretful.

"You can sit you know. It is better to relax." Her psychologist told her in a kind voice.

He looked mid-thirties; clean shaven, soft gray eyes, neatly trimmed brown hair, curved jaw, and his face was always so emotionless except for a slight squint around the eyes to seem open and reassuring. It made the woman a little agitated though. He was too hard to gauge. Was he even motivated beyond getting his paycheck or was he seriously that composed all the time?

"No, I need to walk it out to talk it out. You know? I just can't sit still."

"Okay then, Pandora. Let's go back to the core issue. 21 years of age now, you have had reoccurring dreams which have happened as far back as you can remember. These dreams are not nightmares typically, but they do disturb you and keep you from feeling rested when you wake up."
He looked down at his notes, "You have done a sleep study and a few tests. They show you don't have sleep apnea or restless leg syndrome, and you do actually achieve REM sleep." He said and then looked up from his notes.
"The dreams are your main concern, right?"

Pandora listened for a moment and nodded as he finished, "Yes, Dr. Celier, that sums it up."

He continued, "You have told me about your family and some of your past, but I have yet to pinpoint any contributing factors. I think it would be beneficial for both of us if you tell me your thoughts on the source of these dreams."

She turned on her heel, a sharp strike of her toes following as she faced him.
"That's what I'm coming to YOU for! YOU'RE supposed to tell me!" She snipped as she pointed accusingly at him.
Her other hand perched angrily on her hip.

He didn't even blink let alone react like she thought he would. His face remained impassive and he watched her movements. She was just a subject to analyze; an item of study. She had tried many different ways to get an emotional response from him, but he remained merely analytical. She pulled her gaze from him and her heels tapped furiously as she walked wildly through the small room.

"Keep calm. This is only our seventh session together, and you know yourself better than I do. If you tell me what you think about the problem then what you say might give me insight on what approach to take." He told her after he let her pace around the room a few times.

"I... yeah. Sorry. The stress and lack of sleep has been getting to me." She replied and finally sat down on the edge of the patient couch.

She tucked her legs under her and pressed a hand on the edge of her purple skirt modestly. She was still very tense and her feet fidgeted as she spoke.

"When I even think about the dream I get anxious. The feelings from the dream follow me even when I wake up. I've thought about causes for the dream itself. I have. But I have little basis to go on. It's not due to life stresses now because the dream has happened ever since I was little. The whiteness is just there. Always. I thought it might just represent something I am afraid of, but the white itself is soothing and familiar. Still, something scares me and the fear is so oppressive sometimes it chokes me. I wake up sputtering and coughing. None of my family members are that scary. No one I know now or knew when I was young made me feel like that. It has to be more symbolic than literal. But I've always liked the color white. I don't understand why it would have such a bad feeling to it."

Dr. Celier nodded his head maybe a quarter inch, "Yes. I have something to go on now."

He tapped his pen on the paper he using to jot down his notes, "You said you like the color white. Would that be a reason why you bleach your hair?"

Pandora's eyes widened with shock, but then her brows bore down in outrage, "How dare- How DARE you assume that! This is my natural hair color!"

Dr. Celier actually blinked in muted surprise, "White is not a n-"

"Don't tell me what is natural! I am albino and this is how my hair has looked since birth so why don't you psychoanalyze someone else because I am through for today!" She talked over him and jumped up from the couch.

It did not matter to her that she had 10 minutes left on the clock. Dr. Celier was just like everyone else: presumptuous, self-involved, and lacking in personality.

Pandora snatched up her overcoat and stormed out of the office. She did not slam the door, but flung it open and left it open. She immediately began to feel bad. It was rare for her to blow up like that, but she had always been picked on about her hair. People always made assumptions. She glanced at the people in the waiting room in embarrassment. She just realized that she had been loud enough people would have heard her and here she was making a scene.

Attn: Open

What better than a nice sandwich in the park after circus rehearsal, especially on a beautiful day like this. Lexie was still wearing her jester outfit, except she had put her leather jacket over it. It definitely made her stand out, but most people knew of her because her act had become quite renown.

Yes, Lexie Scarlet, The Jack-of-all-Trades, circus performer. That's who she was, that's who the freak in high school had become. She did wonder from time to time if her old classmates knew of her and were eating all their insults and profanity at the sight of her talents and "fame".

Lexie threw a piece of bread on the ground in front of her bench, which, a few moments later, was hoarded by pigeons. She kept feeding them, piece by piece, until finally she just threw the rest away to watch the birds fight over it.

She laughed at the scene, mumbling "Throw a hundred dollar bill in a pack of humans and the scene will be the same.'' snickering at the thought.

Finally, she lit a smoke and just went on with observing her surroundings with a laid back demeanour.

[Attn: Open]

An old jazz tune played in the background as the ceiling fans lazily spun almost in unison. The beeps and whirs of server computers could barely be heard as they often dissolve into the warm, thick air on such slow, winter days like today. Everything below the ceiling was motionless and calm, except the reoccurring typing of keys and sharp clicks of computer mice. The room, being below the pavement's surface and having enough volume to fit about 20 people, had walls of pale yellow, and a blue, carpeted floor.

"Hey," one male voice called out. Kieva looked up from her computer monitor, uninterested. "Is anyone else having trouble with the internet? My laptop keeps disconnecting on me." The voice's owner was Kieva's simple coworker, Geoff. His somewhat combed blonde hair and lackadaisical blue eyes matched his always casual attire. He sat at his own desk at the back center of the room while Kieva and another coworker, Tabitha, sat at the right side. The server computers were located on the far left.

"Maybe you need a new wifi card. How old is that thing, 3, 4 years?" Tabitha answered. She sported black, laid down hair with a red streak on the left side which complemented her fair skin and array of thin sweatshirts. She had a little corner all to herself where she played videogames on her computer during slow days. Sometimes she, Geoff, and Kieva would have a quick match against each other in a simple, tank multiplayer game.

"I really don't want to spend money on another card and go through breaking my laptop open." Geoff responded tiredly. "Then check the router. Restart it if you have to." Kieva suggested. She loved the fact that she and her companions had access to their own network while the rest of the business had to share a few larger ones. Sitting in the room was almost like living with roommates who worked at home. If it weren't for the salary and dull days of nothingness, the job would be next to perfect.

[Attn: Open]

The shadow of a tree danced on the pavement below; the shapes of various branches moved ever so slightly due to the wind.

“I see the treasured light…from the dark deep below me.”  A soft voice sang quietly in the wind as she took one step further to the edge of the bench.   If a passerby stopped to look at the park, they would see a young woman standing on a bench holding a camera.  But to Lana, all she could see through the scope of her lens was the world of shadows dancing to the ambient melody playing in her ears.

Lana stepped closer to the edge until the tips of her boots were hanging in the air.  Her finger clicked down as she took the contrasting photo of light and dark. No sooner had she pulled her camera away from her face, finally satisfied that she was able to capture the moment, her phone vibrated loudly causing her to stumble to the ground.
 
“That…that was less than graceful.” She mumbled to herself as she got up from the ground and assessed her camera to make sure nothing was broken.   Pulling out her earphones, she managed to scramble to her phone to answer it.  “Hello?”  She asked, knowing full well it was her friend calling.  

“Lana! Hi. I know we were planning on hanging out today, but Jake sort of asked if I was doing anything today.  I said I wasn’t without even thinking about it.  So we sort of agreed to go out tonight.” Her friend, Hannah, paused for a moment.  “I’m sorry, Lana.”

“Yeah…um no.  No, it’s fine.  Really!  I need to finish this assignment up anyway.  We can do it another time.” Lana sat herself on the bench placing her camera beside her.  She glanced at her knees briefly before holding up her right wrist to examine the scrape she had gotten from breaking her fall off the bench.  

“Okay, sure.  Thanks again, Lana!” The sound of her friend hanging up was the last thing that Lana heard.  Turning to look behind her, she looked at the park around her.  She might as well get a few more images before she went back.  

Music in Post:

Christian had been working hard on his latest piece of art. It was more of a personal piece versus for selling. He had always had an affinity for wildcats and the little apartment he called home held several paintings of the animal.

He put down his pain brush and sighed. I’ll have to finish this up later he thought. Christian then began putting away his paints. He put plastic wrap over the cartons before putting the lids on them. He then washed his brushes out. What a mess his studio was in. Paint was everywhere, on the floor, the walls and even some on the ceiling. He pulled off his work shirt and tossed it onto the floor. He couldn’t remember the last time he had it cleaned.

Christian walked to the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror and sighed. What a mess he looked. He needed a scenery change. Maybe going down to Blues Café would help. He takes the rest of his clothes off and then gets into the shower. When he was done, he wrapped a towel around himself so he could walk to his bedroom. Putting on some clothes, Christian got himself ready and left his apartment.

It was nice outside, the sun was shining and there were a lot of people out enjoying the warm day. It wasn’t far to the café from where Christian lived, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the time out. Christian was usually a quiet man. He kept to himself most of the time. He was a business man, using his skills as an artist to earn a living. That was how he lived.

Ever since his mother had passed away a few years ago, Christian had turned to art to help himself get through the pain. Times had been hard for him, but he had prevailed. That last painting though had been the best though. At least to his standards, and had sold for a high price.

Christian walked into Blues Café and ordered some coffee and a muffin. He decides to take a seat outside this time so he could see and feel the outside world. This was how he loved to write. He takes a seat and pulls out his pad of paper from a bag he had been carrying.

{Attn: Lexie, Open}

Finally her shift is over, Violet leaves the library and takes a walk in the park. It has always proven to be a good place to find something to draw. Today is no exception, She finds an empty bench and looks around. There are some kids feeding birds, a business person is on her phone by the fountain, and finally she sees it. There is a person dressed up in a jester outfit. She smi.les wondering what story she can attach to the person.

She takes out her sketchbook from her patchwork bag. After selecting the proper pencil, she begins to draw. The outfit is very vibrant, colorful and detailed. Violet only hopes the woman does not leave before she can capture it all. She wonders if she should make this part of her comic. The colors would fit it well. She glances over casually as not to capture the jester's attention as she continues to sketch away.

Vincent, after getting out of a meeting with most of his employes, was walking back to his office. As he entered the room adjacent to his office where Sophie, his personal secretary, was working, he stopped suddenly and turned towards her.

"Did Mr. Bruckenson called?"

"Yes, you just missed it, I asked him to call back in about 20 minutes"

"Ugh... Thank you Sophie" He really didn't want to miss that.

He stepped into his office and closed the door. Since Vincent was in his office most of the times, he arranged it so he would be confortable in it. A whole area was designed for relaxation, with a stereo system, a shelf full of music disk and a sofa. There was aslo his desk on which was sitting his multiple computer monitors and tons of paperwork.
The call that Vincent was waiting on was the most important call that he would have this year. He had proposed to this Mr. Bruckenson, a important business man from Detroit, to invest in Divine Elegence, Vincent company, in order to cover the cost of opening a jewelry in Detroit. It was Vincent's dream, and he had made everything he possibly could to make it happen. Vincent looked at the clock, still 15 minutes before the call. Since this morning he was running left in right and he was already tired, but he couldn't push back this call, it was now or never. I needed to be in shape for the call and I dont think I have time to start anything while waiting. He walked up to a stereo, chose a disk made it play. Hearing the first notes made him smile and he sat down on his sofa, waiting for the phone to ring.

Music  playing:

Lexie heard a thump in the distance. Slowly she turned her head to see the source. Apparently there was a clumsy photograph. She giggled a bit before getting up and walking towards the girl as she was on the phone. Midway there, she felt watched, turning her head by instinct, Lex met eyes with an artist.

Again she simply smiled and waved at her, continuing towards the photograph, once there, she opened with "Howdy, get any good shots?" Smiling sweetly, one had in her jacket pocket and the other bringing her cigarette to her mouth between sentences.

[Attn: Lexie, Violet, Open]

Lana looked up as the shadow of another person approached her. It was a young woman whose attire reminded her of a performer; it was creative and unique.  Lana realized she was being addressed by the woman, but she stared blankly for a moment.  She wasn’t quite used to someone asking her about her projects.  

She couldn’t hide her excitement and began to grin.  “Um…actually, yeah.  Yeah, I did. Well, I’d like to think so anyway. I’ve gotten a few good ones.  Risked life and death for it too.” She frowned for a moment.  “Maybe not life and death technically.”   She shifted her position.  “Do you have an interest in photography?”

She then noted another artist, not too far away who appeared to be drawing the jester.  “Seems like you are an inspiration for someone.  That’s pretty neat.” She commented with a smile.

{Attn: Lexie, Lana, Open}

Violet is engrossed in the drawing and becomes lax in her discretion. Her eyes follow the jester as she moves. Their eyes meet and the jester waves, breaking Violet's concentration. Her cheeks flush as she is caught drawing. The jester does not seem to mind and she is almost done with the line art. The jester walks over to someone who is checking out a camera. Is she a photographer? The park is beautiful and a lot of people take pictures.

Violet is glad the jester did not come by her. She does not like showing any works in progress. She closes her sketchbook and puts it back in her bag. She will color it in later. She already knows what to name the picture. Fun In The Park She glances at the jester one last time with a small smile on her face. She then stands and walks away.

Attn: Lana, Violet

Lexie laughed about the photographs comment a bout life and death, considering she participated in acts considered "dangerous" by the average joe.

"I'm into anything creative really, I don't personally practice photography, but I can appreciate it." She says with a smile.

Afterwards, Lexie nods as the young lady notices the artist "Yepp, but apparently she got what she needed" she paused as she watched her walk away for a few moments before adding "It will surely become a famous drawing" She finished jokingly, giggling to herself.

[Attn: Lexie, Open]

Lana moved part of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear.  “So you’re an admirer of art in general.  I consider myself one as well.  An admirer of art and music that is...I'm Lana by the way.” She quickly added.  To her, art and music were windows; windows to something more out there.   Others may consider it an escape, but to her, it was pure freedom.

She began to lean slightly to see the retreating artist.  “Aren’t you curious? I mean I’d be if someone was using me as a muse.” She paused and began to bite her lower lip as she considered asking her question.  “What do you do…for a living that is?”  Lana began to worry if she was being too blunt.  She hoped not.

[ATTN:  OPEN]

Renna likes Ms. Kelly.  She has the prettiest hair and such a warm voice.  Her embrace always comes just at the right time and that is all that matters.  She isn't sure if Ms. Kelly has blue eyes or green eyes, or even if she has a pretty smile, but she does have the softest hands.  Renna doesn't like rough hands.

The wallpaper on the walls is wearing out, time's message that she should not stay here forever.  Or she'll end up just like the paper, with its darkening beige with the small sheep standing over and over on the same spots.  All the sheep stand the same and look the same.  Odd sheep, just like the people.  They all do the same things, just like the sheep.

People walk, talk, dress in their suits to work and teach and learn at schools.  The same rain falls, the same sun shines, the same people pass by the same places every day.  And Renna greets the sheep every day, like always, but they can't talk back, because they aren't real.

Renna walks around the sides of the room, waddling upon the carpet with bare feet.  She's not supposed to take her shoes off in here, but she does it, anyway.  Her small fingers reach out, touching the sheep just barely with an outstretched arm as she moves across the surface with a smile.  

She stares, as she walks past the walls as quick as she can, before closing her eyes with a smile.  The paper color changes into a brilliant yellow as the sheep begin to dance, finally moving, though they never have.  Renna giggles a little as her pace quickens, the sheep nuzzling her fingers as she passes over them, dancing their little dance as she strides along with a happy tune in her mind.

"Renna, what did I say about your shoes?"  Ms. Kelly is talking.

Renna comes to an abrupt halt, crestfallen.  She stands perfectly still, her fingers still touching one of the sheep, staring at it longingly as her opened eyes reveal still, empty, and beige colored sheep.  They just stare back, as if wishing they had a soul.  Renna wishes they had a soul, too.  Or at least, just one of them, just one sheep to be different from the other sheep, just like her.

"Renna?  Come sit over here, sweety."  Ms. Kelly says.

Renna closes her eyes for just a couple of seconds as she touches the wall, the music in her head slowly aching to come back into her mind with full volume, hinting at fun as the sheep prepare to dance.  Still, she pulls away, forcing her fingers from the wall and turning her back to the world of silent sheep to do as she is told.  It sure is frustrating to have to follow other sheep.

[Attn: Open]

While Geoff walked off towards the router, Kieva returned to her sketch of a hornet in mid-flight. Then she imagined a person riding on the back of said hornet. Another idea popped into her scrambled mind; a warrior riding atop the infamous Asian Giant Hornet-with its three eyes that can track its prey, no matter where it hid. Kieva laughed to herself as she thought of how ridiculous the idea was.

Tabitha, distracted by Kieva's laughter, eyed the woman curiously. "What're you laughing at?" She asked.

"Okay, I know this sounds weird, but what if there were people that rode on top of giant killer hornets?" Kieva giggled as she spoke.

"You're always full of weird ideas," Tabitha smiled along with her coworker. Overhearing the conversation, Geoff couldn't help but chime in. "Sounds badass!" He exclaimed as he leaned over the router. Kieva held up the unfinished sketch, but it was easy to discern a wasp-like figure from a distance.

"Oh yeah, I could definitely see a little man with an assault rifle sitting on it." Tabitha mentioned. Kieva already planned on redrawing the insect to a larger scale to accommodate the rider but a knock on the door resounded, followed by a man's head peaking through the doorway. "Hey, I tried tried to open an article that was recently finished, but for some reason, I don't have access to it." The man said.

"What's the name and date of the article?" Geoff asked. "'Tiny monsters among us', meant to be published next week."

"Alright, lemme make sure the article actually exists." Geoff answered jokingly. He jumped back on his desk chair and pulled up the list of articles that are set for future publication. "Yep, it's there. Maybe there's a problem on your end."

"I'll check out your computer." Tabitha informed the man. With a quick word of gratitude, the male worker stood aside and led Tabitha to his office. "Finally, something went wrong." Kieva said with a grin. Geoff merely chuckled as he continued inspecting the documents.

{Attn: Ryushi, Open}

Violet is making her way through the park. She is wondering if perhaps she should just pick dinner up for grandmother and herself. Bertolli's is on the way and has excellent food. She stops when she hears some violin music. The violin is her favorite instrument. She slyly looks around and sees a young man playing. She pauses to listen, but does not approach. She has made herself known too much. She stays until the song is done before continuing on.

[Attn: Lexie, Open]

The alarm on Lana’s phone began to ring. “Really?” She muttered under her breath. Had that much time passed? Granted, her plans for the rest of the day were canceled, but she hadn’t expected to be at the park for so long.

“Sorry about that.” She said apologetically to the woman as she turned the alarm on her phone off. “I actually need to be on my way. But it was really nice to meet you.”

After packing her things and bidding farewell to the woman, she began to stroll outside the park. “First thing…coffee.” She placed her earbuds in her ears and began to hum along with her music. Her steps began to synchronize to the beat as she made her way to get some coffee.

Music Playing: