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Could it be? PART 8!! Pink Pony riders club. Insanity is welcome, sanity is not.

Mika4Life13

By Mika4Life13
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artsyfartsy17

artsyfartsy17

Posted
Posted

Hmmm........*doesn't remember last post*

 

........*wonders if a fresh start is in order*

 

*tentatively offers forth a fresh start to be used or discarded as you please*

 

Emmeline Chesterfield was not normal. All the neighbors whispered about her, she of the red curls and the striped socks and the rat that always rode on her shoulder. There were a great many things odd about her, but we’ll start with the rat, as I know he’s the one you want to know about first. The mention of a rat always seems to catch one’s attention.

The rat’s name was Leopold, and he was four years old. Now, I don’t know if you know much about the average life expectancy for a rat, but four years is quite old for the common rat. Luckily for our story, Leopold was not an average rat. He was trained very well, never leaving his droppings around the house like other rats, but in a corner of his cage, which made them quite easy for his owner to dispose of. He never bit, or scratched, or nibbled, and he didn’t smell bad. He was quite the superior rat, to say the least, and when he wasn’t in his cage, he rode around on Emmeline Chesterfield’s shoulder as if she were a pirate captain, and he, her parrot. He had come to be her pet when her brother had bought him to be dinner for his own pet python. Emmeline looked into the pet shop box and saw the little ratling huddled in the corner fearfully, and she took pity on him, claiming him for her own. He spent the next four years repaying the favor with undying devotion to his mistress.

Now that the rat has been explained, we’ll move on, I think, to Emmeline herself. She was actually very quiet, Miss Emmeline, but her very presence commanded attention. She was short in stature, and very thin, and if any other person had been of her dimensions, they would have seemed very sickly and waif-like indeed. But Emmeline Chesterfield was not any other person. She had a great mane of curly hair that was bright red, not orange like most redheads, but a true, bright, deep red, like a garnet jewel, and pale, pale skin with a generous sprinkling of freckles. Her eyes were a dark espresso brown, nearly black, and they stood out in her face like two great pits. Her mouth was a grim little line above a stubborn, pointed chin. She should have been ugly; certainly her features were homely when considered one by one, but when you looked at her person as a whole, what came to mind was an angry fairy.

Emmeline Chesterfield wasn’t whispered about by the neighbors because of things she did do, but rather things she didn’t. She refused to do anything because anyone told her to. If she thought something was pointless or silly, she just wouldn’t do it. Consequently, people wondered about her…

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artsyfartsy17

artsyfartsy17

Posted
Posted
Daughtahhhhhhh.

Is there any point me reading that if you're not going to be around to write more with us. *hmph* :sneaky2:

 

Mumzy!:wub2: I'm making an honest effort to be on more often.:tears:

 

 

Besides, with the shape this thread is in, I could leave for a month and there'd only be one new post.:mf_rosetinted:

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Kelzy

Kelzy

Posted
Posted
Mumzy!:wub2: I'm making an honest effort to be on more often.:tears:

 

 

Besides, with the shape this thread is in, I could leave for a month and there'd only be one new post.:mf_rosetinted:

Well, since you filled me with false hope. I'll go read it and perhaps I'll even post smoething.

 

(and that doesn't surprise me)

Jeez, this ole thing is STILL going??? :blink:

 

Hi from Rose! :bye:

Amazing huh. :naughty:

it must be old, because i've been here since june 08 and i've never seen it before :roftl:

Yeah, 8 threads worth. kinda strange you've never noticed..

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Lolliepop_girl

Lolliepop_girl

Posted
Posted
it must be old, because i've been here since june 08 and i've never seen it before :roftl:

Yeah, PPR is actually a spawn of 07 :wink2:

 

I had all the contacts and made my debut saving Artsy, Baby and Beth Ditto from the evil Calvin Harris's ship by finding them with my super-uber-superior contacts from ly little black book, working by night as a burlesque dancer (and making my claim to fame in the world as the virgin Baby Rose Lioness) who Mika mysteriously already knows, as did Becky

I seem to remember they found her at the airport. A police officer who didn't really want to be a police officer and only was one because of her father and came over to see why everyone was trying to surrepticiously hide an unconcious popstar and then bribed her way into the group with a stick of gum...

 

Yep, good times :das:

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racinghorse83

racinghorse83

Posted
Posted
Yeah, PPR is actually a spawn of 07 :wink2:

 

I had all the contacts and made my debut saving Artsy, Baby and Beth Ditto from the evil Calvin Harris's ship by finding them with my super-uber-superior contacts from ly little black book, working by night as a burlesque dancer (and making my claim to fame in the world as the virgin Baby Rose Lioness) who Mika mysteriously already knows, as did Becky

I seem to remember they found her at the airport. A police officer who didn't really want to be a police officer and only was one because of her father and came over to see why everyone was trying to surrepticiously hide an unconcious popstar and then bribed her way into the group with a stick of gum...

 

Yep, good times :das:

 

:blink:

 

:roftl:

 

OK.

 

 

i brought a new shirt at the warehouse yesterday, it says 'burlesque, paris, france' and has a burlesque dancer on it. its awesome. but my youth pastor hates it :naughty:

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Lolliepop_girl

Lolliepop_girl

Posted
Posted
:blink:

 

:roftl:

 

OK.

 

 

i brought a new shirt at the warehouse yesterday, it says 'burlesque, paris, france' and has a burlesque dancer on it. its awesome. but my youth pastor hates it :naughty:

Sorry, Bex was one of the characters/writers of the PPR.

I was going off on a tangent, showing off all the cool stuff I remembered about her character ;)

I remember my character as clear as a bell OF course :wink2:

 

AWESOME about your shirt! I want one! *is jealous*

 

Aah good old pastor :P

LOL our pastor didn't mind what I dod. That was worse :das:

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englishrose

englishrose

Posted
Posted
Hmmm........*doesn't remember last post*

 

........*wonders if a fresh start is in order*

 

*tentatively offers forth a fresh start to be used or discarded as you please*

 

Emmeline Chesterfield was not normal. All the neighbors whispered about her, she of the red curls and the striped socks and the rat that always rode on her shoulder. There were a great many things odd about her, but we’ll start with the rat, as I know he’s the one you want to know about first. The mention of a rat always seems to catch one’s attention.

The rat’s name was Leopold, and he was four years old. Now, I don’t know if you know much about the average life expectancy for a rat, but four years is quite old for the common rat. Luckily for our story, Leopold was not an average rat. He was trained very well, never leaving his droppings around the house like other rats, but in a corner of his cage, which made them quite easy for his owner to dispose of. He never bit, or scratched, or nibbled, and he didn’t smell bad. He was quite the superior rat, to say the least, and when he wasn’t in his cage, he rode around on Emmeline Chesterfield’s shoulder as if she were a pirate captain, and he, her parrot. He had come to be her pet when her brother had bought him to be dinner for his own pet python. Emmeline looked into the pet shop box and saw the little ratling huddled in the corner fearfully, and she took pity on him, claiming him for her own. He spent the next four years repaying the favor with undying devotion to his mistress.

Now that the rat has been explained, we’ll move on, I think, to Emmeline herself. She was actually very quiet, Miss Emmeline, but her very presence commanded attention. She was short in stature, and very thin, and if any other person had been of her dimensions, they would have seemed very sickly and waif-like indeed. But Emmeline Chesterfield was not any other person. She had a great mane of curly hair that was bright red, not orange like most redheads, but a true, bright, deep red, like a garnet jewel, and pale, pale skin with a generous sprinkling of freckles. Her eyes were a dark espresso brown, nearly black, and they stood out in her face like two great pits. Her mouth was a grim little line above a stubborn, pointed chin. She should have been ugly; certainly her features were homely when considered one by one, but when you looked at her person as a whole, what came to mind was an angry fairy.

Emmeline Chesterfield wasn’t whispered about by the neighbors because of things she did do, but rather things she didn’t. She refused to do anything because anyone told her to. If she thought something was pointless or silly, she just wouldn’t do it. Consequently, people wondered about her…

 

 

Emmeline's neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Livingston, considered themselves respectable people. They walked, dressed, and spoke in a respectable fashion; they went to respectable garden parties with respectable hosts and respectable guests. They ate respectable meals, and occasionally fed the leftovers to their respectable dog. They lived in a respectable house on Respectable Street.

Respectable, that is, but for Emmeline Chesterfield's house.

Mr. and Mrs. Livingston did not approve of Emmeline Chesterfield's house.

Instead of being a whitewashed, semi-detached bungalow with geraniums in the window boxes like every other house on Respectable Street, it was a standalone three-storey impossibility of rickety wooden turrets and darkened windows in unlikely places. It was surrounded by a jungle of weeds and wildflowers, of overgrown rose bushes and tall grasses. Years of falling feet had trampled a pathway, cutting through the green tangles like a scar, from the front door out to the pavement. However, the only feet that Mr. and Mrs. Livingston saw come in and out of the house on a regular basis were those of Emmeline Chesterfield's brother, who had had the misfortune of being named Chester Chesterfield when he was born. Chester was ten years old, and his python had been named Monty by its previous owner. Nobody knew how old Monty was.

Chester Chesterfield walked down the path at exactly eight o' clock every weekday morning to go to school, and walked up it at exactly four fourty-six o' clock every evening. He was a good boy, if a little odd.

Emmeline, on the other hand, did not go to school. It was one of those things that she found silly. Instead, she spent most of her time inside the house, away from Mr. and Mrs. Livingstons' prying eyes. This worried them--they didn't know what potions she was brewing in there--but what worried them more was that they had never seen the feet of a parent of guardian walk up ordown that path. It would appear that Emmeline and Chester lived alone. They had considered calling social services before, but the truth was, Emmeline scared Mr. and Mrs. Livingston. The thought of her plotting revenge against them was one that chilled them to their very respectable bones.

 

 

 

 

I'm figured I would just add more background detail until we know what's going on. :naughty: For the record, I don't plan on Chester or the neighbours being my character if it turns out that way...:roftl:

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