I'm going crazy now...OPEN

[donte7]

MELISSA CAMERON SCOTT

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IT CAN CREEP INSIDE YOU AND CONSUME YOU, A DISEASE OF THE MIND IT CAN CONTROL YOU

The door of the cafe opened and a little bell above the door rang. It made the person who was entering jump through the door, obviously displeased and shaken at the sound. Startled she looked around the small bakery, the smell of sweets and the aroma of coffee hit her. But she wasn't paying attention to that, she was busily flicking her eyes around the room, looking at the people who were watching her. Completely paranoid that they were talking about her. And they probably were. Here she was dressed in hat could be called some eccentric attire. She had quite a pretty floral dressed in, with a background colour of a saddle brown, pretty dull and not really eccentric. She wore a tweed coat over the top, with floral decoration inside and a tweed farmers hat. Nothing wrong with that you might say, until you looked at her lower half. She was wearing darkish blue ballet shoes, with incredibly contrasting red socks. Which rode up to her knee. This certainly did not match the sophisticated outfit she was wearing on top. Though neither did the pastel yellow coloured pearls around her neck, or the diamanté swallow broach flying across her chest.



Quickly she was turned away from her distraction of looking around the room and headed towards the counter. A few minutes ago she had decided what she had wanted, but since had forgotten. Frantically she went through every single coffee and hot beverage that was listed on the black boards above the counter. She mumbled through them all, including the costs of each, small medium and large. The people in front of her looked around, mistakenly thinking that she was talking to them. Upon realising that she wasn't they frowned and turned back around, seemingly worried about the crazy woman behind them. Melissa didn't care, in fact she didn't even notice the looks they gave her. Finally she decided upon a drink just in time to be served.


The woman behind the tills smiled at her asking her what she wanted. She was quite portly, and was as jolly as ever chubby woman should be. Or that's what Melissa thought anyway. "Hot Chocolate, small, $2.50." She said simply, staring still at the board. The woman behind the till looked confused but nodded at her somewhat strange request. She opened the till, waiting for Melissa to pay. In return Melissa looked back to the portly woman behind the desk, staring blankly at her. After a couple of moments she asked. "Well aren't you going to tell me how much it is?" She said with a completely straight face and blank stare. The woman behind the desk stuttered. 'Oh um yes, of course, that's $2.50. Please.' She replied uncertainly. Melissa smiled and nodded. "Oh is that all, I assumed it would be much more. But i won't argue with that price." The brown haired woman replied joyfully, dipping her hand into her coat pocket and pulling out the exact change. Stunned the till worker took the money from her, allowing it to drop into her hand. She counted the money and dropped it into the till drawer.



Melissa remained where she was, watching as he hot chocolate was made. Then she watched as the other younger girl brought it over to the till. She handed it to her and Melissa took it. The blank stare back on her face. She didn't even thank them and she went to find a space to sit down. Spotting a small round table in the corner with two chairs she made her way towards it. There she put her beverage down and sat down onto the chair. She pushed the drink away from her and , reached over to the magazine rack hanging on the wall. She grabbed the nearest newspaper and placed it on the table. She flicked through, stopping at the ones that caught her interest. Then she spotted one that certainly attracted her attention. It was about a woman who had been stroking a cat and then who had picked it up and placed the cat inside a dustbin. This amused Melissa much so. So much that she let out a loud cackle.



Nearly the whole of the cafe turned around to look at her disapprovingly. One child went to ask his mother what was wrong with her, but his mother grabbed the boys hands and sat him down on the seat, hushing him before he could say anything more. It was much too late. "What don't you think it's FUNNY?! She put a cat in a bin! I mean, cat's don't live in bins!" She let out another cackle, thinking it absolutely hilarious. Then she turned immediately back to her paper, a blank expression crossing her face once more. The other customers turned around, mumbling to themselves. It looked as if for a second that the woman behind the tills was going to ask her to leave, or quieten down. But obviously decided against it. She returned to the customers who were at the till, although keeping a close eye on Melissa. Melissa saw this but did nothing about it. Instead she continued on with her paper, not getting distracted by the voices that she heard. 'She's looking at you, yeah, that fat bitch behind the counter. You want to watch her.' She started humming quietly to herself, but gave the lady at the till one last glance. Ridiculous whore.



ooc;;
notes;; open for anyone who wants to play with my crazy!! xD
outfit;; Wearing

I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER

[Burton Alfred Harper Jr]

If he, Alfie, had stunk filthy rich when he had entered the cafe fifteen minutes earlier with his laptop, paper and business documents strewn over the table within seconds of taking a seat and shrugging off a heavy overcoat, the next customer to follow him in stank pungently of raving lunatic. On the other hand, he was always had been in the habit of judging too quickly, perhaps she was just having an eccentrically dressed, lousy day resulting in distractedness and... he rolled his eyes as she expressed glee over the ridiculous internet phenomenon of the Coventry cat cruelty case.

He found in neither amusing nor vastly disturbing. There had been worse cases of animal cruelty in the past and present that had a lot less media coverage. Frankly his only interest in it was in its confirmation of his opinion of the media as idiotic, money-grubbing, machines who cared little for what was actually going on, only in what would sell a few more pennies.

The woman who ran the little bakery might have chosen to avoid mentioning anything, but Alfie was of a different class, rather ignorant to any sense of fear or when to back down and, without raising his voice above its usual volume, directed a comment at the woman as she began to hum. “I fear I do not find that particular article in any way as amusing as you clearly do, but if you would exercise your mirth in a more subdued fashion I would be greatly obliged.”

He had not lifted his head while saying this, instead leaning over his work with increased intensity as he ran his pen down a list of figures with one hand, taking a sip from his tea with the other. No longer paying attention to her now he had said his piece, his full concentration returned to the documents spread before him.

Words 315
Notes Well, early is as good as late, and Alfie needs to start somewhere. He might as well begin by being an arse xDD
Muse Minnie the Moocher – Hugh Laurie (J&W Soundtrack)
Outfit Clickyyy

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[donte7]

MELISSA CAMERON SCOTT

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IT CAN CREEP INSIDE YOU AND CONSUME YOU, A DISEASE OF THE MIND IT CAN CONTROL YOU

She barely took in what the gentleman a table or so away had said to her. In fact it barely registered in her frantic brain. There were more important things on her mind, than to worry about a pompous aristocrat to her left. One of those things on her mind was that little voice which kept telling her what to do and how to do it. She tried to hum it out, increasing her volume even louder than before. This again was not received well. In fact one family stood up and left, muttering unkind words to themselves. Not daring to actually say it to her face. Probably not willing to risk anything. And they were probably right too. Although at the moment she seemed quite calm in response to what the man had said, although not really taking anything in and doing the opposite of what he had asked, by increasing her volume. At leas she hadn't decided to lick him or something.



At least not yet anyway.


She drifted off into her own little world (not that she wasn't in it most of the time) thinking about that little voice and who it may belong to. She figured it would be owned by a portly little fellow. Obviously a very minuscule man to fit inside her head. Possibly one to two centimeters tall. She pictured him wearing tiny little waistcoats, long clown like shoes. Well they would be smart, black as always, but he would have big feet. And you know what they said about big feet. Big socks. He'd probably also have a pocket watch. Gold, of course. And the numbers would be indicated by roman numerals, not actual numbers at all. This little hallucinatory creature would probably also own spectacles and wear them on an odd occasion. His face would be red, permanently. As if he'd been out int he sun for far too long. Melissa could see him with a cigar too, and a top hat. Certainly a top hat. Luckily this was all in her head, well not lucky. But probably better of there than in the real world.



Finally she decided to reply to the man who had spoken to her. But probably not the reaction he was expecting. "Who are you? The king or something?" She scoffed. Another cackle escaping her. She neither looked up from her paper and continued to flick through it, her eyes frantically scanning each article. Each article bored her even more than the last one. If only she could come across something as funny as the cat story. But she had no such luck. Instead she was overloaded by stories of rape, murder and sheer stupidity. Not that she could talk. Apart from the rape, she hadn't done any such thing like that yet. Closing her paper she looked up to the man who had spoken to her. He was smartly dressed, complete with a bowler hat and spectacles. 'What a twat he looks.' The voice inside her snickered, but yet again she ignored it, finding it funny to make fun at the voice's expense. "You remind me of someone." She stated simply, staring right at him with a devilish smile on her face. He wasn't to know that, that 'person' was the imaginative figure she had made up in her head.



Funny. She normally obliged by this little voice, saying whatever it so happened to tell her. Today she was ignoring it. Not sure if that was a good thing. Or a bad.



ooc;;
notes;; baha! lot of love for alfie <3
outfit;; Wearing

I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER

[Burton Alfred Harper Jr]

A small smile passed across Alfie Harper’s lean features as he lowered his glasses, looking over them, and turned his face back towards the woman, “My dear, I am considerably more important than any king or queen you are likely to ever stumble across.”

Spotting a brim as he returned to his work he realised his hat was still on his head – how had he missed that? what a haphazard fool he must look – he put a hand up to it and placed it on his briefcase, considering the woman’s eccentric dress. She herself had appeared tall and somewhat emaciated and she had clad herself that morning in a slapdash combination of goodness knows what and English twee. From the extended glance he had allowed himself he had spotted rather a lot of tweed hanging around.

You remind me of someone. Oh god almighty, why couldn’t he just have kept his trap shut for once in his life. Now the woman would feel she had the right to either direct anything that came into her head in his direction or, and worse, enter conversation with him, at which point he would be obliged by common rules of insult and courtesy to reply until such a time as he was ready to get up and leave. Crap.

“Really, how very curious? I would be most interested to be further educated in who I remind you of,” his voice, while complying with his ‘common rules of insult and courtesy’, was practically bucketing sarcasm. What had he done, why was it necessary to shut up the humming, the laugh, or witchlike cackle, might be more appropriate, hadn’t ground his nerves so badly he couldn’t have done without making the snide remark. Well, he couldn’t deny it hadn’t happened before. This would probably be the mistake he couldn’t bring himself to prevent the repetition of. It was a family trait after all. Get all fifteen closely related Harpers in the same room for only an hour and any other occupant would have killed themselves to stop the sarcasm flying in all directions.

Words 347
Notes IT’S A TRILBY, NOT A BOWLER *glares* learn your hats. And you write long posts in comparison to me. I tend to aim 300 words or so xDD
Muse Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin' - Journey
Outfit Clickyyy

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[donte7]

MELISSA CAMERON SCOTT

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IT CAN CREEP INSIDE YOU AND CONSUME YOU, A DISEASE OF THE MIND IT CAN CONTROL YOU

Once again the gentleman's words made no impact on her, she still kept staring at him. No recognition of his words even crossing her face. Instead she just continued to smile, her eyes flickering over him slowly. Once again she studied his appearance, watching as he removed his hat from his head. He'd obviously forgotten that it was there. How stupid of him. Not that she could talk, her tweed farmer's cap was still placed on her mass of hair. But obviously she was an exception to this rule. She was the one who matched scarlet socks with pale blue shoes after all. A hat wasn't going to do much damage to her appearance.



Quickly she glanced won to the table, noticing the hot chocolate that she had not yet touched. It had cooled mightily. She reached out a hand and wrapped it around the cup. It was stone cold. Carefully she dragged the cup close to her, watching as the liquid splashed against the sides of the cup. Tantalizingly close to spilling over the top. Finally the cup was before her, her elbows bent at a near forty five degree angle. She took the drink to her lips, blowing onto the already cold beverage. Before she could take a sip he spoke again. She'd actually forgotten her question, not that it bothered her. She wasn't sure if she was going to answer. But he seemed intrigued, maybe she should? She would ponder it for a while.



Replacing the cup to her lips, she took a gulp. The coldness of the drink did not bother her either. In fact she quite liked it cold. Much to the disgust of most other people. She placed the cup back onto the table, plucking a tissue from her pocket and wiping her upper lip. She did have rather a lot in those pockets. A lot of random things. If she were to go through all her pockets you would be shocked to find what was in there. She replaced the tissue and turned to face the gentleman once again. "You would not know him. I'm sure of it." She told him abruptly, almost angrily. Her mood tended to change instantly, even if no one had done anything to anger her. She frowned and turned her attention back to her hot chocolate. Deciding she did not want anything to do with the bastard drink anymore she pushed it away from her. So that the mug was on the other side of the table. She flicked her hair back, which was falling in front of her eyes, with her hand. Growing ever so tiresome of her long locks. If only she could chop them off and become bald...



Like an egg head. Would that make her look more intelligent perhaps?



ooc;;
notes;; d'oh! i apologise profusely for my lack of hat knowledge! forgive meh? and eh that one was short :P
outfit;; Wearing

I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER

[Burton Alfred Harper Jr]

Alfie pulled out his phone sending off a quick text to Patterson, he had given his valet the day off on the condition that, if he were needed, the man would be available to pick up a coffee. As it happened what was missing was the contact details for Alfie’s main accountant. The only other person that had complete details of all his business transactions and contacts was Logan Patterson. Logan had been working for him several years now, and despite being a little more mouthy than most valets (he would never tell him, but Alfie found it pleasantly refreshing that his only permanent staff openly snorted by his shoulder), Alfie had decided by now that there was no point in having him if he didn’t trust the man with the details he was sure to mislay despite all his organisational skills.

He glanced back up and smiled in the most patronising manner he could muster at her angered and tense tones, and as if addressing a young child making a nuisance of itself replied, “Okay then.”

His phone started vibrating violently across the table, heralding the arrival of Logan’s answer and slid the Blackberry in front of it, scribbling the accountant’s number and word address on the thick padded brown envelope before him. He was positive there was a discrepancy in what was going out of one of his side-company’s funds. He didn’t have the time to check it over personally – he had an empire to run for Christ’s sake – so when something like this happened, he had it passed to an underling. It sometimes happened, that one of the businesses he supported, invested in and funded thought he was too busy to personally or have one of his people notice inconsistency in his input and their output. People frequently tried to siphon off the money for their private use, only to find his backing to have disappeared and a court case on their hands to top it off.

He had, by the time he had sealed the envelope, forgotten about the existence of the young woman with the tweed dress. He whistled sharply, an action that caused the whole cafe to turn to him and (as he had intended) the gent behind the counter to scowl at him. He grinned broadly, pointing at the tea, “I need another, let this one get cold I’m afraid.”

The man strode over, picking it up as he muttered something about deserving a ’bloody good tip’ and ‘fucking Harpers’. Alfie thanked him as sincerely as he could, resulting in a sound of intense insincerity in his apparent gratitude. All he got in return was a grimace that was possibly supposed to be the trained smile. The pluralisation of ‘Harper’ did catch Alfie’s interest. Had the man encountered the psychiatrist in his time in the town too then?

As his head turned back to his work he accidently caught the woman’s eye again. Damn. Hopefully she was still too irate to talk to him again. Although, he could do with a distraction... his eyes swam with the figures below him. He’d seen little but figures for the past ten years odd. Figures at Cambridge, figures as an adviser, figures as boss... it was actually nice to be woken in the morning to Logan sweeping open his curtains (whether he had fallen asleep in his study or bed) and handing him his morning paper. No need to look at the figures there.

Words 578
Notes I’ll forgive you this time *adds back a few of the docked points* also, I think just maybe, Alfie's ignoring her, she'll have to better than that =P
Muse Sanity Song – Auto-Tune The News
Outfit Clickyyy

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[donte7]

MELISSA CAMERON SCOTT

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IT CAN CREEP INSIDE YOU AND CONSUME YOU, A DISEASE OF THE MIND IT CAN CONTROL YOU

She ignored him once more. She really had a problem with interacting with people. Ok so she had many problems. One being that she couldn't interact properly with other people. It's not that she didn't want to. As any human being she was a social person, but most of the time her brain didn't allow her to act with people particularly well. She didn't know how to act correctly. Right and wrong were both the same thing in her mind. Well she couldn't tell the difference at least, which was probably what made her act the way she did. Violent attacks from her were rare but she didn't realise she had done anything wrong. It went unnoticed to her that this was socially unacceptable. But how was she supposed to know? She didn't bother taken the medication doctors offered her, in fact she hadn't seen a doctor since she was fifteen. And she hadn't taken any medication for any of her conditions since then.



Which was probably making her more and more mental.



This probably lead her to what she did next. Leaving her chocolate on the table she picked herself up and walked over to Alfie's table. Pulling up a chair she sat on the table, elbows resting on the surface and head in her hands. She stared at him smiling. This was probably incredibly off putting to say the least. Unfortunately for him, Melissa didn't even realise he was trying to busy himself with his work. In fact all she could seem to do was to provide some light entertainment for him. "So how have you been? Haven't seen you in a while." She spoke, as if greeting a family member who she actually hadn't seen in a while. Although she wasn't sure she would actually greet them in this way. Possibly more with one of her screaming fits of rage. But nevertheless. Here she was talking with a complete stranger as if she had known him for years.



She looked down to the paperwork he was currently also looking at. The figures buzzed around her brain, eyes scattering across the page in a whirlwind of motion. There were many numbers, and she memorised each digit. She was a somewhat genius. When the moment struck her. She could be incredibly clever if she wasn't so insane, but everyone had to be good at something and maths was her thing. Unfortunately there were so many things usually going on in her mind she didn't have much time to focus on maths, but right now she was in her zone. She started figuring out every little answer she possibly could, everything that she could get from the business papers, cash flows, everything, she began to work through them. The figures imprinting themselves into her mind. After a moment she looked up a small smile on her face. "Can I help in anyway, sir?" She asked, leaning in a little closer, her head now independent from her hands. Sincerely interested in what he was doing, but not sure how long that interest would last.



ooc;;
notes;; my.head.hurts
outfit;; Wearing

I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER

[Burton Alfred Harper Jr]

He looked up, mildly, if not thoroughly, surprised at the sudden change in her tone. Alfie had assumed this would be another case of someone wandering off muttering about how much of a complete duck he happened to be. It wasn’t unusual. There had even been the occasional death threat from someone he had insulted in a room before completely forgetting their existence. An icon began flashing on his screen and he opened it, taking in quickly the information on the sheet.

“One minute,” he pulled out his phone and pressed his speed dial for Logan, “Patterson, I need the reports on the Flanders Inc. case as soon as they come out in Britain also, book dinner and a cab to pick me up for eight... yes, you’ll need to...” Alfie sent a continued stream of instruction from the e-mail he had before him for a good thirty seconds, glancing up only once in apology to the woman. There was some form of confusion at the other end, and he stopped short in repeating his last instruction, and his tone sharp, asked, “Patterson, are you listening to me?”

“I’m at some cafe in town, be here in forty minutes.” With Logan’s response, some nonsense about a runner, he simply switched off the phone and returned his attention back to the computer, sheets and the young lady currently occupying the seat beside him. It was typical of Alfie to claim he would be in the flat the entire time he had given Logan off then wander away to skive an hour in the comforts of some small cafe. For all his snobbery, Alfie preferred a good cafe to his gentleman’s club in London.

"Can I help in anyway, sir?" Alfie automatically pulled the sheets from her gaze and shuffled them into a haphazard pile before pushing them across to the opposite side. The action had only revealed all the more of his accounts and he sighed in disgust. “I'll do fine, I'm sure and it’s Alfie, by the way, Harper II. Only my staff call me sir. And you, mademoiselle, would be...?”

Words 345
Notes Sorry, that was 1) shit and 2) took an age. Promise to give something better next time
Muse Barmy’s Choice – The World of Jeeves and Wooster
Outfit Clickyyy

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[donte7]

Melissa somehow managed to politely wait for Alfie to finish talking on his phone. The amount of instructions he was sending down the line was quite astonishing, to Melissa anyway. She couldn't quite understand how the person on the other end could catch all the information. She presumed, or rather hoped for the other person's sake, that he'd also send it in an email. Or at least the other person would be writing it down as he went. That amount of instructions would surely drive her mad.


She seemed to drift off into her own little world, soon realising that the man's phone conversation had come to a close. She redirected her attention towards him as he hastily shuffled papers out of her view and slid them to the other side of the table. Confused she looked back at him, wondering if they were documents that she shouldn't have been reading. Maybe he was some sort of spy? Not that she'd remember anything that the documents had on them, in fact she'd already forgotten the incident and had moved on to her next task. Answering his question.


"I am Melissa Scott, nice to meet you Alfie." She conducted the introduction rather formally in her point of view, offering him a hand to shake. She smiled once more, considering her next question. "So what do you work as?" She questioned him, he seemed like a businessman and she didn't doubt that it was highly likely that he had made himself some form of wealth. She too had made some form of wealth, but in a certainly different means that he probably had. Not that she used it, instead she hoarded it away to pretend she never even had it. For her, the thrill of having money and lot's of it only lasted a few minutes, maybe half an hour, until she found something else to amuse her. If any other person had the amount she had, as long as they weren't crazy, they would probably be overjoyed. Although they probably wouldn't have gone to the lengths she had to get it.

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TAGGING Alfie&&Artimus
WEARING meh
NOTES Sorry for the shitness and lateness. I forgot i hadn't replied xD
MUSE my radiator humming
CREDIT Specifically to me, Donte! I will beat you if you try to steal or do steal.[/COLOR][/FONT]