g e n a v i v e
m o e
d a r t m o r e
m o e
d a r t m o r e
- - - - - - - -SAY WHAT;; don't touch me metal man.
- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -i'm deathly afraid of you.
- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -your touch is cold and inhuman.
- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -how disgusting you are to me.
- Today was the day, the day she had been dreading for over a month now. Today was going to be complete and utter hell, she could already tell. They were moving into her home today, those damn machines. She hated them with a passion. She was more afraid of them then anything else. Androids were demonic machines in human form. Could they even be called human? Not to Genavive, the girl who, if you didn't catch the drift by now, hated the artificial intelligence more than anything else in the whole entire world. Her young world had been shattered by those things, though her father didn't exactly help the situation much he wasn't the one that shook her and screeched at her. Groaning loudly, just to show her displeasure at her own thoughts, Genavive opened one sea green eye to glance at the clock. It was already ten-thirty; They would be showing up in a little more than half an hour one by one. She at least hoped it would be going one by one, just so they would get the message individually that they shouldn't touch her, she would make that very clear first things first.
In case anyone in her family wanted to know, she would probably be a wreck today, just another sobbing child afraid of metallic people. "Oh God." she muttered to herself before opening another eye, letting them both focus before she sat up and stretched limbs feeling tingly from having slept on them and the blood flow probably being cut off for a few hours. She hated that feeling, it was like a part of her was missing. The though gave her the chills, she was planning on keeping every part of her body thank you very much. Glancing at her spot clean room Genavive sighed, the room was far too sterile for her own liking, but as father and mother insisted; Clean homes make happy homes. The saying made her wince to herself, she always thought of her mother's sayings in the most inconvenient of times. Rolling her eyes into her head then closing them for a long moment the eldest sibling threw off her black and blue plaid comforter and stepped onto the black carpet. Her room was quite dark, not in lighting, but in color. The walls were silver and black, though she wasn't fond of the sheen of the color she kept it anyway, it at least matched.
Taking one step forward, obviously not watching where she was going, she fell. Almost wailing because of the wooden, then mattress-ed, item she had fallen onto Genavive almost teared up. "Stupid day! Who put this here? Must have been the parents, why wouldn't they have told me? Dear God, do not tell me one of them is moving into my room, my very room. Please let it be Drewby or Eliza." she cried to herself before almost throwing a fit. For being the oldest child Genavive certainly didn't act like it, acting younger than her younger sister most of the time. The oldest was prone to crying, fits, and screaming often. Normally people got used to it after a while, but her outbursts were occasional and slightly unpredictable. After pouting and laying on the newly made bed for her newest companion, the term used quiet loosely, Genavive pulled herself together and off of the bed, sniffling and rubbing at her nose.
Opening the white door that led into the hallway she slowly walked down it and then down the stairs finding her mother, without father like usual, sitting at the kitchen table sipping on coffee and reading one of the many books that could be found around the Dartmore household. "Mother," she hissed, making the older woman jump, "What are you thinking? Why is there an extra bed in my room? I stubbed my toes on that this morning and now they burn, thank you very much. I know why it's in there too, and seriously woman who gave birth to me and my siblings, what on Earth where you thinking?" Apparently her mother had expected this kind of childish reaction and set down her book, stood up, and then walked over to her older daughter who was a few inches taller and about thirty pounds less than her mother. "Dear, you want to help your father, I know you do." she said after pulling away and settling back down in her chair without another word. Her mother had got her there though, she did indeed want to help, that was a fact. "Fine mother, you win this time. I expect a large Christmas gift this year though." she said with a slight laugh, and the first true smile of the morning. Rolling her eyes as her smile widened the eldest teen walked past her mother, hugging her from behind, then walked into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast, a simple bowl of Cinnamon Swirls.
Settling her now empty bowl in the sink, which was full of dishes that she should have cleaned, Genavive was slightly ready to get on with this lovely day. Making a face as she walked back up the stairs and into her room Genavive stared at the extra bed for a long moment, her face expressionless. "Might as well get ready." she said to no one in particular before stepping over the mattress and next to her closet, sliding it open and staring at her wardrobe. Passing over a few shrunken shirts and tattered tank tops she finally pulled out a yellow shirt that had Pikachu on it, little lightning bolts were randomly placed in the background. As for bottoms she had a choice of skinny jeans, or skinny jeans, or possibly skinny jeans. Eyes were set on the skinny jeans for sure. Picking out a tightest pair of light gray ones she had Genavive threw her clothes on her bed and walked into her bathroom, which was attached to her room. The pale purple walls painted with flowers contrasted greatly with the heavy paint of her room. Stripping quickly from her pajamas she stepped into her shower and turned on the water, almost yelping out as the cold water changed to warm. Cleaning off quickly she stepped out of her shower stall and onto the small bathroom carpet that matches the walls, running her hands through her dripping hair. Toweling off quickly Genavive stepped back into her room and stepped over the mattress to get to her own bed once more.
Pulling her hair up into a ponytail with the hair tie she snagged off of her bed stand the teen let the towel drop off of her body, grinning to herself like she was some stripped on a stage performing for horny guys. (Wow, my mind must be in the gutter to have actually thought of that and then actually written it down.) Pulling on all of her clothes she looked in the mirror, giving it a crooked smile and then pulled away from it and stepped back into her private bathroom, flicking on the fan so there would be less condensation on her mirrors so she could quickly apply her make up. Pulling from a cup of random eye liners and mascaras her favorite charcoal eye stick she leaned in close to the reflective glass and outlined her eyes thickly, making her eyes seem brighter against the smokey color. Giving her lashes a healthy dose, or two, of mascara then gliding black shimmer dust over her lids she deemed herself ready for the day. There was one down side to her dolled up eyes, they were sure to run when the tears started flowing.
Finally turning off her fan and light in the bathroom she walked back to her dresser, picking up the correct lip piercing and Monroe stud for her outfit she sighed, she was already getting nervous for the arrival of the others. Her stomach was tight and all she wanted to do was flop down in her own space, grinding her teeth she reminded herself that it was no longer her own space. Shaking herself out of the tears that might start she walked outside of her room and down the stairs once more, only to sit on the couch and wait for the arrivals. The tapping of her feet didn't stop until her mother scolded her for it, but still, she needed something to distract her. Anything. There wasn't a thing in sight to do so though. This needs to get over with, she thought to herself before half laying down on the couch and watching the clock's hands go by.
