Post by ARIA MELODY CHASE on Jul 3, 2010 16:27:31 GMT -5
ARIA MELODY CHASE.
SHIFTER . NINETEEN . SUSAN COFFEY
I'm a mess in a dress. Can't show up on
time, even if it would save my life.[/CENTER]
THIS AMAZING THING HAPPENED . . .
. . . I was born! I was born on the twentieth of March, which is only better since it’s the first day of spring. I’d like presents too. It’s ok if you can’t think of anything to get me. I’ll take money or gift cards. Really, that would be perfectly ok with me! Anyhow. I was born in Boston. My family moved around a lot while I was growing up. My dad was from this area, but he left a long time ago. He joined the army, met mom … and I’ve moved every few years since. Mom was always my teacher. She could teach at a school. She got a degree in elementary education. But we moved around so much that she always felt that home schooling would be easier for me. She was right too. It was way easier. I didn’t go to school, make friends, and leave them the next time dad got moved. Some times we’d stay in one place for a while, but we usually lived on the base wherever we were. There were other kids around like me that never stayed in one place for very long. I played with them. It was never difficult to say good bye to them. We all knew we’d have to. I knew there’d be more kids where I was headed.
It was only ever difficult when I got older. As I became a teenager I had a hard time saying good bye to everyone. I wanted consistency. I wanted to go to a public school. I wanted to get a boyfriend and go to prom. I started keeping in touch with kids I met when I was about twelve years old. I wrote to a few of them. From the time I turned twelve until I turned sixteen we were in Germany. It was then that I started going to public schools. It was interesting, That’s for sure. I had to take German classes, though I had teachers that spoke English. They still insisted that we needed to know the language. It was only right. We weren’t going to be the ugly Americans that refused to learn the language of the country they were invading. I was never much good at it though. I made one friend, Skyler. He was the one that translated for me a lot of the time. He was so much better at languages than I was. He already spoke Spanish, and a bit of French in addition to German. It was kind of impressive, I won’t lie. He was three years older than me, fifteen to my twelve.
I’m not sure mom and dad liked me hanging out with Skyler. He was older, and a bit of a bad boy. They thought he was a bad influence on me. I suppose he was. He had a big impact on the way I turned out. I think he was good for me. I was never really shy or anything … I grew up around a lot of strangers. I never really knew the people around me. I’m good talking to people I don’t know. I always have been. But before him I was a lot more reserved. I was a lot more polite to people … ok that’s not a bad thing. But I wasn’t as comfortable being me. He made me more comfortable with who I am … I guess I understand my parents seeing that as a bad thing. I became more of the atypical obnoxious teenager after I became friends with Sky. It only got worse when I changed too.
I left my parents to go to school. I was going to school in Washington, where dad was from. I was going to this arts school in Seattle. I’ve always liked music and singing. I wasn’t anywhere near Julliard material. But I could get into a cheep arts school. I was there when it happened. I changed. I’m not sure where the blood came from that turned me into this. I’ve met some other werewolves over the years, but I haven’t been linked to any of them. I’m not an alpha. Not by a long shot. I just think that werewolves are linked to people from their bloodline. Either my bloodline died out or I just haven’t found them. Maybe they stopped phasing. Maybe they imprinted and gave it up. Who knows. I moved around so much in my life that I couldn’t pick an origin for this. Mom was the daughter of a marine, so she moved around to. Maybe it as dad though. Not that I bothered asking. Mom and dad know nothing about this. How do you tell someone you turn into a big hairy wolf?
I figured out things through the grape vine though. I think it would be fun to be linked to a bunch of boys, I won’t lie. It would be fun to torment them. It would be so easy! I like meeting other packs. I like what I am. I don’t understand why anyone would resent this life. Sure, it was a bit scary at first, but you get use to it pretty quickly. I sure did. It’s just not something you talk about. It’s hard to get to know other werewolves when no one really talks about it, by the way. I met Fox in Seattle. He’s a werewolf too. When you meet another you can tell that they aren’t entirely human. Their heart beats differently. They are warmer. There are indictors. But it’s not something you just come out and ask. When I met Fox I thought he was good looking, obviously. I’m sure you’d agree on that front weather you are male or female. He is one fine specimen of a man. Anyway - my intentions really were just to hit on him a bit. I mean, he’s pretty, I’m pretty, may as well be pretty together right!? Well we started hanging out on occasion. It was nothing serious. But eventually we realized what we both were. We made an … arrangement. I mean, he’s going to imprint some day … maybe … until then we’d keep being whatever the hell we are, and he’d be let free when he found ‘then one’. Until then there was no reason for him to be all alone.IT’S TIME TO TALK ABOUT ME NOW.
I’ve been called conceited more times than I can count. I’ve also been called an attention whore. Oddly enough, none of this really bothers me. I know I’m a bit out there. I chose to blame Sky for that one. It’s all his doing. He’s the one that gave me an ego and taught me to go with it. He was my first boyfriend, incase I didn’t mention that already. He was a bad influence, but I appreciate what he did for me. I think more people could benefit from owning up to who they are, but that’s just me. Well this is who I am. I’m full of myself, but wouldn’t you be if you were me? I mean, really. I’m pretty epic, incase you didn’t know. I know, I’m just human. I have faults. But you have faults too. It’s not like that changes the facts. I’m still an amazing person, and you should just accept that. It would make things much easier.
Sort of change of topic here, but sort of not. You’ll see where I’m going with this in a second. I hate double standards. For instance, guys can sleep in their underwear, walk around in them, and not be called a slut. Guys can sleep around, and be praised for it. Guys can walk around shirtless and just be seen as hot. If a girl does any of that? She’s just a slut. What the hell is up with that? Well I chose to ignore such things. If a guy can do it and still be seen as a good person than I take that as an invitation to do it myself. Walking around shirtless? I do it plenty. I usually only do it around various packs. But they start it. They expect me to pull on a bra, underwear, pants and a shirt every time I phase just cause I had the misfortune of being born with breasts? Really? What a crock! NOT HAPPENING! I’ll strip off my shirt if they refuse to put one on. Either the guys can get use to it, and not be a complete pig about it, or they can get so distracted by the shirtless female that they are forced to put their shirt on so I’ll do the same. I’m ok with either option really.
I’m a bit of a brat, if you didn’t know. I like getting my way, and I’m not afraid to go out of my way to get what I want. Guys tend to like me much more than girls do. Girls tend to think I’m an annoying little slut. Guys just like that I’ll walk around half naked without flinching. I’m ok with that though. I like guys better anyway. I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy. I have the sort of attitude about things that tends to put girls off. Guys respond much better to it most of the time. I like competition. I like a challenge. I like bickering with people. I’m not some soft spoken little lady that always minds her manners. I like loud exciting environments. That’s my happy place.
I’m loud, I speak my mind, and there is little that I’m not completely open about. But you want to know something? I’m really good at keeping secrets. This is one egg that won’t crack. You try and get me to spill about something and I’ll just torture you with the fact that I know and you never will. I think it’s fun to torture people that way. Not many people really tell me their secrets. Everyone seems to think that I’m a huge gossip … which I am NOT! I have plenty to talk about without gossiping. I’m a very interesting person you know! Like I’m going to talk about you to get a conversation going. Ugh!-- WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS
Lets talk about what I look like now. I’m about five foot nine inches tall. Not REALLY tall, but I’m taller than a lot of girls. I’m pretty slender too. I have curves, sure, but I’m not about to be a VS Angel or anything. No one wants me modeling lingerie cause I don’t have the rack for it. I think that’s one reason I’m better shirtless than some girls. I can walk around shirtless and not look like a porn star. How awesome is that? Sure, I also might pass off for a thirteen year old girl … but I’ll take it. Big boobs are totally overrated anyway. Small and humble breasts are totally the way to go. I’m pretty well muscled. I have been ever since the change. I’m so glad that I didn’t turn out like one of those body building females. They are creepy as hell. No, I’m just well toned. I’m stronger than I look though. Don’t be fooled. I’m quite a bit weaker than most male werewolves, but I’m stronger than any human, and I can take a chunk out of a vampire. I’m fast enough that my being weak doesn’t make much a difference.
Next let me explain the complexion and hair. I’m a redhead, which means that I’m really pale. All redheads are. If you look at my hair it’s pretty obvious that is not a natural shade. I dye it regularly. I’m a dark red though. It’s just not so fire engine as this color. I love my hair actually. Mom is part Irish. I got the hair from her. It’s naturally wavy. It’s not frizzy and full of those god-awful little spiral curls, but it does hold curl really easily, not that I bother very often I usually just comb it and leave it as it is. Unlike most wolves I keep my hair long. It’s about to the bottom of my shoulder blades. I’m not the most fancy girl in the world. I don’t spend hours styling my hair, putting on makeup, or picking out outfits. I do wear makeup, just not a whole lot of it. I’m more of a natural kind of girl.
As far as fashion goes, I don’t really have any. I’m a jeans and t-shirt girl. I don’t do heels or anything like that. I actually hate dresses entirely, but I wear them often enough. It’s easier to tie a dress around your leg an run off than try to get jeans, a shirt and all that shit in there. I have a dress on when I’ve been in wolf form, usually. Seeing me in a bra is very uncommon, by the way. I only own one, and it’s all lacy and obnoxious. It itches. It has under wire. It’s annoying to wear. Sky thought I looked hot in it though. God I miss that boy!
Lets conclude with the wolf form. I’m bigger than a real wolf. My fur is white and red, and my eyes are blue, just like mine! My wolf form is longer and thinner than most. Males are huskier. I’m just small and fast. From what I gathered that’s how most females are. I’m better at sneaking than a lot. It’s hard to sneak when you are the size of a bear, so that’s why I’m better. I’m smaller than a bear. Still big enough to make anyone crap their pants though.
Once she arrived in the Forks area, Aria realized just how many werewolves there were in this area. Her landing here was the tip off that her father had been the one that turned her into a werewolf. Despite the fact that she was now surrounded by other werewolves, she hadn’t been pulled into the mind link of a pack. She didn’t see any of the males as an alpha. She didn’t want to be a part of it. She refuse to join up, even if it might have it’s advantages. Aria wanted the freedom to leave whenever she wanted. Then again, Aria hardly spent a lot of time in her second form. Maybe she would get sucked in once she shifted. She was almost afraid to find out if she had been. Was that why she was avoiding the change? Fear? She could have kicked herself for even thinking it. Afraid? Her? NEVER! Aria fancied herself fearless, even if it was quite a bit off the mark.
That day Aria had gone out in a thin sundress, and nothing else. She wanted to change. She wanted to run. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Off in the distance she could see the forest. It wouldn’t take long to get out there, alone, and be free. But instead she’d perched herself on the beach, her whole body pulled up atop a large piece of driftwood, which was a big part of a tree trunk. She’d hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop them as she watched the waves breaking against the shore. The waves were choppy, violent. A storm was rolling in. Off in the distance she could see the clouds creeping in. There was no doubt about it. Those were thunder clouds. She shivered in anticipation. Aria loved storms. Course she loved them a little more from inside … but she’d just ran out of money for the hotel room she’d been renting this past week. It wasn’t like she’d melt if she got a bit wet.
She shrugged it off and waited for the storm to arrive. The winds were already picking up, but she wasn’t budging. There was nowhere to go anyway. Tonight she’d have to bum a bed off Fox, or rough it as a wolf. She could wash up in the ocean … course finding something to do with her bags was another matter all together. Her blue eyes shifted to the bags next to her once her thoughts turned to them. OH how she must look. A little urchin sitting on a beach, waiting for the storm. She laughed at the thought and dropped her legs. Aria leaned forwards, settle her weight on her hands, and pointed her toes towards the pebbled beach. She wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the ground from atop the fallen tree. In her attempt to reach the ground the skirt of her dress rode up, exposing a bit of leg. Aria didn’t bother to fix it. Propriety had never been her strong suit. She was a bit too comfortable with exposing herself in public. It was one of the few things that she’d call “problem”.
Her gaze turned back to the water right as she heard footsteps approaching on one of her sides. She ignore the sound and continued to stare of at the approaching storm. Her nostrils flared, it was a werewolf approaching, whatever the gender, whatever the appearance. Wolves smelled differently than humans. Course Aria wasn’t going to memorize scents. Something about this being smelled vaguely familiar. Maybe it was Fox. Maybe it was someone that knew Fox. Perhaps she’d smelled them on him before. Would they recognize her? If they were in his pack they probably recognized her from his head even if they didn’t know her scent.
((will edit in another paragraph or two once I know who this would be directed at))
