#katcarpenter

[charactersaremylife]

Out of character: Lynne killing Kat (it was the most extreme. Ooc thing that came to mind... )

[[It'd have to be an accident, one thing I could see is maybe Lynne feeling as if she'd blame herself for her mothers death, driving a car maybe and a horrible mistake. Lynne survives the crash, her mother doesn't....I kinda want to write this now]]

[charactersaremylife]

Mother Mother by the Veronicas would definitely be Lynne's song for when she goes off to college.

oh my goodness yes that definitely is fantastic one for her.

[charactersaremylife]

[[Some physical appearance headcanons about Lynne totally not because I was stalking her tag on Rosey's blog nope  

She keeps her hair pretty long, like, half way down her back long, though this is impractical while painting, so at this point she's gotten good at braiding it, and will usually do so on a daily basis. She's not entirely sure why she keeps her hair so long, but she doesn't really feel like cutting it honestly

and as far as clothes go, she goes for comfortable stuff, or more clunky 'boyish' things. She seriously does like cargo pants though, with a Tshirt or a tank top or something.]]

[charactersaremylife]

"Just focus on me."

Easier said than done. Much easier, in fact, she felt like she was being forcefully hauled out of a well while wearing a circus tent. After a few moments, she managed to reason that her blankets were the only thing captureing her at the moment, and untangling herself, she hiccuped, trying to slow her breathing.

"I’m alright." Lynnes voice was hoarse, and she had to clear her throat, looking down. Of course she was fine, she was always fine, this was getting better, wasn’t it? The dreams seemed fewer and far between- except that had happened before.

[charactersaremylife]

♤

"Ah- yeah, there, that’s a good point. I…don’t have any ID on me, damn." She frowned, doing a quick pat-check of her own pockets. She smiled convincingly "I’m one of the Elders- er, that’s the English word for it any-how, if that means anything to you, you’d know you can trust me." She knew full well she didn’t look like an Elder, nor did she act like one. They all walked with a sort of stately grace, and had a calm air about them. She was just…energy. Really, she felt like a child around them. Very rarely did Nedara feel like a child when on Earth, everyone here was just so… young. They lived for such a very short time, and then they were gone forever. It kind of hurt.

A lot.

"But- um," she cleared her throat "I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it. You’re hurt? I can keep things under wraps if you don’t want a fuss, there usually is when there’s someone new in town. Take y’to Rosey, she’s one of the best Docs I’ve run into yet."

x

yooo I remember this thread. Alright, anyways, I don’t exactly recall what I was thinking during writing this, but I remember her character a lot better now. Ned was kind of a weird one because she’s technically very young, but in actually very old just because that’s how her people age. I had this whole idea that I want to reopen and explore again because it’s sounding cool and maybe I’ll bring Nedara back because she was a fun character, and her friends, they were fantastic too. And of course, there’s the whole living forever deal that’s sure to bring plenty of angst, and we all know how much fun that is I have too many emotions I shouldn’t do this to myself

So not the best commentary but I’m not actually cringing too much over my writing here, I usually would, but this isn’t so bad? I dunno man, it’s just kind of there, I think this was before I started fussing with my style and was more of a stream of thought process, less of a character in the actual writing, rather than just in the dialog.

[charactersaremylife]

Kat knocked on the door, slowly peeking in on her daughter, expecting her to be on the floor lost in a painting, "Lynne? Honey, is something wrong?"

"No," Her voice echoed dully through the door, and there was a shuffle of items before Lynne appeared in the doorway, blocking entry to the room. Behind her was a mess, though her bed was hardly rumpled, her books were off the shelves, some of the old picture books propped open to certain pages, bits of notebook paper taped together with sketched designs on it, a canvas propped against the wall with faint lines. Even on her ceiling, she had taken down some maps that had been pasted up there for quite a while, placing them on the walls where they were more accessible. 

"Nothing’s wrong. I’m just… busy- thinking ‘n stuff. Got a project I was going t’do, did you need something?" Vagueness was a specialty of hers, a little smile and a nod, combined with a change of subject would usually help them move on. Of course, this didn’t exactly work with her mother most of the time, but it was worth a shot.

[charactersaremylife]

“Let me check your temperature.”

Lynne whined as any small child could, squirming away. She'd thrown off her blankets, and her soft face was flushed. "No," she groaned "I wanna go to sleep- Momma, make them go'way..." She squirmed some more, eyes squeezed shut.

[charactersaremylife]

Are you okay?

Lynne nodded her head, too busy chewing on her bottom lip to answer verbally. She was bent over a painting on the ground, her desk lamp shedding light on the scene. This probably wouldn’t be too odd, it was a common enough place to find the girl, paints scattered around her. Except that now, it was about two in the morning, and she was obviously a bit distracted. Her hair fell in loose strands around her face where it hadn’t made it into the band, and she combated shaking hands by simply ridding herself of the paintbrush and working on the painting with her fingers, the paint clumping under her nails and smearing the fabric of her shirt where she cleaned them.

The painting was that of a forest, thick trees fading off in the distance with just a hand reaching from off the edge of the page, hand curved into a claw as mist was shown to be creeping across the page. Every so often, she go back and add on a bit to the mist, before going back to the shadows behind the first few trees.

She wasn’t okay. This was how she dealt with it- two in the morning was a vulnerable hour for her.Lynne Carpentr