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Post by temperance blythe caldwell on Jul 12, 2016 14:09:02 GMT -5
Tansy had always been an anxious person. Throughout her life she had been given reason after reason to be terrified and worried about the world outside her bedroom door. Even without her parents to mock and tease her she was still subjected to comments about how different she was from her peers. College didn’t stop people from noticing how unique Tansy was, not just in looks but as an individual, too. Her professor once affectionately joked that maybe Tansy was trapped in the wrong time period and it was a comment that had stuck with the ever curious young girl. Her haunting features and penchant to favour the older fashions did scream that she perhaps tried to deliberately look like something from a hundred years ago. However, it was never a deliberate choice. Tansy just liked the touch of lace, and preferred the chance to dress up and pretend to be somebody – anybody – who wasn’t Temperance Blythe Caldwell. It was why she had ended up studying Cosmetology in the first place. She had developed her talents for make-up and creating a new person on someone else’s skin purely through searching for her own escape while locked in her Californian bedroom.
Life had not been easy for her. People assumed it had been because she came from money, but Tansy didn’t know who her parents were outside of their partying lifestyle where they took different people to bed because they could. She didn’t understand how people could be so promiscuous. They were cruel people, heartless and taunting. Her life had been a constant string of bullies who told her she was worthless and scary. In the end the only way to combat that was to build up walls. Some of those walls were blank expressions and wide eyes, but others were more complex coping mechanisms that fought away panic attacks and kept her from locking herself behind bedroom doors. She was using one of them today, dressing it up with a cameo locket and her favourite lace top. She looked entirely out of place everywhere she went on campus, but it kept her nerves calm pretending to be a lady out of time, an explorer of the world. No one was ever told about this, of course, else Tansy risked sounding absolutely crazy. A fantasy in her head, however, didn’t hurt anyone.
Her white blonde hair was swept neatly up onto the crown of her head, pinned into place with a moth hairpiece, and she sat high and proud at her table in the dining hall. A few cruel sniggers came from the table behind as she poured herself a cup of tea from the silver teapot. The lady who worked in the kitchen had always been kind to Tansy and never hesitated in indulging her some hot water for the brew. Tansy heard the sniggers, but reminded herself that a lady explorer would not retaliate or cry at them. Instead she delicately picked up her small cup and raised it to her frosty pink lips to sip at the peppermint mixture. On a napkin in front of her were some cucumber sandwiches cut into quarters that she had packed that morning, along with a blood orange. Eating alone was not uncommon for Tansy, and neither were the cruel whispers. Unfortunately, this had been a lifelong pattern. Her unusual looks and oddness scared away many friendships before they even stood a chance. She only wish she could say it had hardened her, but in actual fact, it just made her lonelier.
• • • TAGGED! Jayden Byron Moss WORDS! 590! OUTFIT! Strange Sweetheart! LYRICS! Only You - - - The Pretty Reckless NOTES! <3
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Post by Jayden Byron Moss on Mar 10, 2017 23:45:21 GMT -5
![](http://i.imgur.com/9NQlsmc.png) ![](http://i.imgur.com/MQxUv86.png) Jayden hadn't come from money or even a home that was the All-American dream. He was, to the rich kids, from the wrong side of the tracks but he was absolutely okay with all of that. It was the truth. His home hadn't been in the fanciest part of town, he had been nearly covered in tattoos before he'd even turned eighteen and happily wore dark clothing in the "punk" style. He liked ripped skinny jeans and band tees, he liked his hair longer than average and he was a big fan of eyeliner. The other kids called him Emo and Goth but he was neither of those things and chose to ignore those kids instead of become depressed about other people's perception of him. He liked who he was and had worked quite hard to figure out who he was, especially since he came from a fairly small town where it was extremely hard to be different from the rest of the crowd. New York was easier to be himself and Jayden thrived in the massive city. He actually blended in with the crowd that was as mixed as it could possibly get.
He didn't fit into the stereotypes of the things he was. He was brilliant, studying biochemistry in school because he actually loved sciences, which didn't fit with his rock and roll, punk rock sense of style. And he was too "punk rock" to be the average, run of the mill scientist with all his tattoos and affection for eyeliner and ripped jeans. He was an absolute gentleman, born in the wrong era but his mother had made sure that he knew his manners and knew how to treat women; which was a lesson he hadn't really needed. He knew how not to treat women so he figured he could easily remember how to treat them properly; which was basically do everything his father didn't do. His father never held a door open, he never surprised Jayden's mother with flowers or a little gift, he had never complimented her in all the memories Jayden had of the man. So he figured if he actually listened to the women he was flirting with, if he surprised them on date nights with flowers or chocolates or candies and actually complimented them on their smile or their laugh, tell them they looked beautiful, he would be gold.
It didn't hurt him any that he was a pretty happy guy and always had something good to say about people, even if their moods or attitudes didn't deserve it. He was constantly making Miks grin at work and had the rest of them rolling their eyes at the way he got on with the customers of Six Feet Under. The club was the only place where Jayd actually felt like he belonged. No one gave him grief if did or said something that didn't quite fit and as long as customers kept coming in and he kept serving them quickly, Elvira didn't care that he was a year away from being legally allowed to work there. He'd pulled a shift the night before and had stayed late to help with the clean up so he was exhausted when he rolled into the cafeteria to grab something to eat. He heard the words from a group at a table before he'd seen what they were talking about. He didn't understand people who could sit there and openly make fun of other people just trying to be themselves. He'd been that girl in the Victorian era outfit back in his hometown. The differences between the pair of them were far less than they appeared to be. "Piss off." He said loudly, stopping at the end of their table so they knew without question that he was talking to them. He was tired and that was the only time he would ever say something remotely mean. He was more honey than vinegar usually but damn it, right then, he didn't care. Once the whispers stopped and the group at the decency to at least pretend to be ashamed at being properly called out, he moved on to the girl sipping tea. "Mind if I join?" He asked her, his hand on the back of the chair across from her, waiting for her to answer him before he took the seat.
♦ ♦ ♦ Tag || temperance blythe caldwell Words || 725 Clothes || Prince Charming Music || What Ifs --Kane Brown Notes || <3
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Post by temperance blythe caldwell on Apr 16, 2017 14:46:50 GMT -5
Tansy felt like she was living proof that money could not buy happiness. Her parents had been spoilt rich kids who, frankly, had never quite morphed into the adults they were supposed to be. They still partied on weekends, and had never once acted like true parents to her. They had more money than sense, and by default that meant Tansy did, too. None of that meant she was happy though. She didn’t wake up overjoyed to go to the school where almost every boasted the newest of new things and the most expensive of designer brands. She didn’t have friends who offered her a bed, or even the space on their bedroom floor when her parents had strangers roaming the home during some outrageous party that left Tansy scared and kept her up all night. She had put locks on the inside of her bedroom door just so she could feel safe when she was actually in there. She didn’t want some drunken ‘friend’ of her mother’s stumbling in late to visit her, or sleep off whatever they had consumed in her room while she was there. Or at all, but getting the deadlock had been a late instalment at eighteen when she came home to find someone passed out in her doorway. Freedom was Tansy’s happiness. Paris, and now college. Places where she was away from that horror, where she was allowed to be herself, have her own space. Alas, she was still alone. The young blonde girl hadn’t known affection since her nanny passed years ago. She was still young, but Tansy was taunted enough to believe she might never know it again.
At least not in reality. She had her escapes in fantasy and costumes though. It was why she had chosen to study cosmetology. She found a door in make-up that she would never have believed possible. She could look in the mirror, take away the ghostly, timid girl, and create and fantastic creature who lived in the deepest oceans, or walked amongst the twinkling stars. A shower later and the dream was over. Temperance was back in the room with her wide, doll-like eyes and pale features. It was a brief trip to another world, but if Tansy could give that gift to someone else who needed it as much as she did then she would be happy. She just didn’t have the confidence when she was stripped bare and pushed out into a world that seemed so big and unwelcoming.
The snickering and the jibes got to her, but Tansy had gotten good at not letting it show. She expected anyone would after a lifetime of snide remarks and harsh comments. However, in all that time no one had ever taken her side, defended her, or told people to back off. They had walked by, glanced awkwardly, or just acted like nothing was happening. So, when she heard the loud voice nearby and glanced at the boy telling the crowd of bullies to piss off, Tansy almost jumped out of her skin. People never helped her, they never cared about her. She looked up at him with the widest blue eyes, hiding the lower half of her face behind the teacup she drank from. She nodded her head, draining the last of the tea from the cup out of awkwardness. Her façade of Lady Temperance had slipped now, and her explorer’s bold confidence had gone with it. Now she clattered the teacup back to the saucer and pushed half of her lunch towards him in a nervous offering before picking up one sandwich herself. She took a hasty, dainty bite from it, trying to hide behind the bread as best as she could while still peering curiously at the stranger. “Why?” She asked in a soft voice that was almost lost to the din of the dining hall.
• • • TAGGED! Jayden Byron Moss WORDS! 648! OUTFIT! Strange Sweetheart! LYRICS! Only You - - - The Pretty Reckless NOTES! <3
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