h i a t u s

Constance Contraire. Independent & Semi-Selective roleplay. ( Of The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart. )

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[contrairisms-blog]

          connie & I are on hiatus, folks.         catch me on freexdobby & gentleturk. 

[bustermachineseven]

Just because you’re sorry doesn’t mean it’s not funny.

[wnq-writers]

I don’t hate you, I hate that I don’t.

[contrairisms-blog]

onions or plums? || luna & constance

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{ plum girl }

m a y b e the girl really did not know anything that had happened.  luna was not sure if she should know, then. after all, she was still so young.      but on the other hand, luna was no one to hold back the truth, as unfortunate as it  might sound or even be.                     ❝ do you know anything about the war,                       the one that ended two years                        ago ? that’s why i’m tired.                          memories can be tiring.❞

Constance's eyes widened, for the W A R  & D E A T H had, that very second, come into her head. The patterns, faint as they were, were terrible     & she'd thought the  Plum Girl's head contained only whimsy & nonsense. She nodded her head gravely.

                ❝ 't ended right abouts when I                              was born. No one ever                             told me much about it. ❞

                                                     CC

[contrairisms-blog]

{ insaney reynie }

"I’m not wearing this sweater to get any girls.”

❝ You couldn't even get a stray cat with that thing. ❞

                                                    CC

[contrairisms-blog]

{ gross optimist }

Crutchie looked at her with pity in his eyes.

"Maybe ya jus’ needa look harder," he suggested, moving his crutch forward to walk. "There’s plenty a people in New York City, aftah all.”

She detested the sympathy in his expression. For Constance, there  was nothing worse than being made to feel weak, small. She was neither; or rather, she couldn't afford to be.

❝ I've looked p l e n t y hard,    kid. An' I ain't found nobody     really caring, exceptin' dogs.    An' they're only stupid. ❞

                                                     CC

[contrairisms-blog]

{ what a snoot }

{❁} “I was being sarcastic!” Mary snapped, beginning to lose her patience with the girl.

She seemed no better than the Crawford children who always wanted to stick their own upturned noses in her business and taunt her with their childish games. Mary hadn’t had time to be a child and enjoy herself like they did nor did she quite know how. Because she was always weary, she let weeds grow in her heart and make her bitter, perhaps too bitter to take notice of the sadness in the girl’s eye and the fact that they had more than their “contrary” attitudes in common. 

❝ Well then, if you-- ❞

The no doubt cutting ( but rhythmically pleasing ) retort was  interrupted by Constance herself. Something about Mary's increasingly irritated tone had triggered the formation of a very distinct pattern in Constance's mind. The pattern in question was one she recognized immediately. 

Upon further     about three seconds'     deliberation, Constance realized that the speech pattern, though varying minutely in some places, was almost absolutley identical to another's pattern. One Constance knew as well as her own. 

                                                                      In fact, it was her own.

                                                     CC

[contrairisms-blog]

onions or plums? || luna & constance

[contrairisms-blog]

{ plum girl }

❝ You know, you don’t seem      interested at all. And to be honest,       I do not intend to put any energy in        convincing you. You see, I’m tired.❞

maybe it was fun for the little girl, but the blonde was exhausted and spending her energy to tell someone her believes just to be the object of skit. nevertheless, her tone remained calm, her eyes resting on the girl with an curiousity, unblinking and, in their silvery colour, almost shining. 

❝ Why're ya tired? ❞

Constance snapped to attention as a pattern she'd previously overlooked presented itself in her mind's eye. A pattern of hurt. Loss. & strength. It was all there, in the Plum Girl's head. & it wasn't whimsical, or silly, like the Wrackspurts. It was something else. Something Constance couldn't name, but it was                      poignant as... as... pickle juice. ( Ew. )

                                                     CC

[contrairisms-blog]

{ what a snoot }

{❁} “Oh dear, I shall have to sleep with a clothespin over my nose," Came Mary’s sarcastic reply. 

Mary felt that she was not the least bit attractive, despite having features that were indeed lovely (it was more or less her facial expressions and moods that people saw as “unattractive”). When she looked at herself and she looked at her mother when she was alive, she saw quite a significant difference. She was aware of it, but did she care for it? Not as much as one might think. There wasn’t much she could do about it anyway. 

❝ I highly doubt that will help. ❞

Seriously, a clothespin? What good was that going to do? Unless it was a magical clothespin, that somehow eliminated  one's rudeness & snooty-ness & altogether intolerable-ness. & full-of-themselves-ness.

The truth was, Connie resented the girl, & it wasn't really the other's fault. Miss Contraire would likely despise anyone who seemed to have a perfect life & take it for granted.

                                        a fairly typical mentality for a person                                         who once had absoltuley NOTHING.

                                                     CC

[contrairisms-blog]

{ deniiiiial }

{❁} “Is that meant to insult me?" Mary quietly laughed in spite of herself, but it was not a hearty, amused sort of laugh. Whatever ghost of a laugh escaped from her lips was more bitter than castor oil. 

One had to admit, being Mistress Mary who had such a great ability to make people go away and leave her be was a lot better than Mistress Mary who was simply stubborn and foolish tending to her sandy, imaginary garden. None of it mattered, anyway. She didn’t have time for these silly little games. 

❝ Quite. ❞

( A smug little smile, full of triumph, crossed the girl's face. Despite Mary's attempted indifference, Constance could tell she'd hit the nail on the head. Her rhymes never failed. )

                     ❝ You know, you might look better if your nose                      weren't always stuck up in the air like that. ❞

                                                     CC