deliberate beliefs (Greta)

[Sheeka Riva]

[cs=2][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,background: #121212; width: 500px; height: 45px;] [style= font-family: times; font-size: 35pt; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #467B94; margin-top: -20px;]DUSK LAMENT[/style] [style= background-color: #121212; font-family: courier new; font-size: 7pt; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 8px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: center; z index: 1; position: relative; color: #FFFFFF; margin-top: -30;]NIGHT BRINGS PAINFUL TEARS AND TWILIGHT STARS[/style]
[atrb=style,background: #212121; width: 150px; height: 400px; border-bottom:dashed thick #467B94; border-top:dashed thick #467B94][style=width:100px; height: 100px; border: 5px solid #333333; opacity:0.9;filter:alpha(opacity=40); margin-left:25px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/c0SALs.jpg); -moz-border-radius-topleft: 40px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-topright: 40px; -o-border-radius-topleft: 40px; -o-border-radius-topright: 40px;] [/style]   [style=width:100px; height: 100px; border: 5px solid #333333; opacity:0.9;filter:alpha(opacity=40); margin-left: 25px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Jr0v1s.jpg);] [/style]  [style=width:100px; height: 100px; border: 5px solid #333333; opacity:0.9;filter:alpha(opacity=40); margin-left: 25px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6QBZ2s.jpg); -moz-border-radius-bottomleft: 40px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright: 40px; -o-border-radius-bottomleft: 40px; -o-border-radius-bottomright: 40px;] [/style]	[rs=2][atrb=style,background: #121212] [style=margin-left: 10; border-bottom:dashed thick #467B94; border-top:dashed thick #467B94; height: 460px; width: 300; overflow:auto; background-color: #212121; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; color: #FFFFFF; padding-top: 15px; padding-bottom: 15px; padding-right: 10px; padding-left: 10px; text-align: justify; -moz-border-radius: 10px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px; -o-border-radius: 10px;] It was just a normal day in class. Well. Normal for a boarding school for a clandestine group of humans...it was the day before Spring Break, though. Everybody was excited for the break without school going on...Some of his fellow classmates were going on vacation, going home, or just going to chill on campus. He wasn't sure what he was going to do...besides maybe spending some time with his Sacrifice. The two of the Conviction Unit were definitely close. Sheeka let out a soft yawn as he buried his face into his stuffed tiger, wishing that classes were over already. It was getting boring. The days before their spring break were definitely low in activity. Most of the teachers figured the students wouldn't retain any new knowledge after a week or two of not being in classes, so they usually didn't start anything new. He was just about to doze off for the last hour or two of classes when a student - probably an office helper - poked his head in the classroom with a call slip. "Riva-kun, Schilke-sensei wants to see you in her office." A soft sigh escaped the Fighter's lips as he stood up with his stuffed animal, grabbing the call slip as he mumbled something in Italian about not wanting his head shrunk - apparently the school psychologist liked having chats with the students at some point during their high school years...or something. Who knows. Sheeka had been avoiding it for several weeks now - disappearing after classes to who knew where - well, he was sure whoever did their security knew...what with the cameras everywhere. Now it just seemed she was catching him at the time he couldn't get away - during classes. He couldn't just not go to his destination. He'd get in trouble for that. He was thinking of how to get away from it...but nothing could come to mind. From what he knew about psychologists - they liked bringing up things from the past to try to figure out why they ticked...or something. His past was something he didn't like bringing up. At all. His mother was dead because he hadn't done anything...his biological family or what there was of it hated him. He'd run away from home to avoid the abuse his father and stepmother had done to him...he didn't want to bring up anything like that. Just thinking about it...was enough to make him sigh heavily and hug his stuffed animal tighter against him. It had been his fault...no matter what anybody said. Conviction may be a powerful name - going off of strong beliefs...but if one believed in something that was wrong...they would continue to believe in that wrongness. Shaking his head slightly, he opened the door to the psychologists office, poking his head in. "You wanted to see me, Schilke-sensei?" [/style]
[atrb=style,background: #212121; width: 150px; height: 100px; border-bottom:dashed thick #467B94; padding: 2px 5px;][style=font-family: courier new; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 4px; font-size: 10; text-transform: uppercase;]words || 473 tagged|| Greta notes || LOOK WHO FINALLY POSTED THIS THREAD.[/style]
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[Gretl Schilke]

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[atrb=style, background-image: url('http://source4interiors.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/candicebluedamask-tone-on-tone29538_111.jpg'); border: 6px double #666A6D; border-top-right-radius: 50px; border-top-left-radius: 50px; border-bottom-right-radius: 50px; border-bottom-left-radius: 50px] we hide our eyes to blind them from the truth that finds a way from who we are please don't be afraid The school preferred to have its students evaluated psychologically at least once a year, and there were certainly some students who were made to visit Gretl on a more regular basis. She could safely say that those meetings were the only instances on which she interacted with the student body, however. She didn't really know any students particularly well, merely her colleagues. Knowing their students wasn't her job, though, so it was hardly an issue as long as she was competent at spotting the students with issues that could prove detrimental to the student's mental health, the school environment, or the overall beliefs her institution was determined to indoctrinate into its students. While she often thought that their belief system might prove detrimental to the self esteem of many of their young Fighters, she also oftentimes found herself wondering just how much it influenced young Sacrifices to acts of stupidity and cruelty, urged on by the fact they had control over another being. It was a delicate tightrope she was forced to walk between the facts of their existence and encouraging healthy attitudes and positive pair relationships. Sometimes she thought it might be more conducive to creating better pairs if each half was not encouraged into meeting each other so early, if they would just grow a little bit older without thinking of their destiny as a subordinate or superior. Growing older without realizing that you owed your life and allegiance to another seemed like it could be better for the undeveloped minds of teenagers. Unfortunately, just as it was unrealistic to expect teenagers not to imbibe alcohol, dabble in narcotics, or abstain from physical intimacy, it was unrealistic to expect that you could stay them from each other and their fates until their minds were fully developed. All she could do was offer as much help as she humanly could. Of course, not all problems her students faced stemmed from the Sentouki world and obligations. Those given Names seemed to have abysmal luck, and many had faced very traumatic childhoods and overall lives. She was aware of her own luck in life - attractive, relatively stable home life until her parents split while she was an adult, no social problems, a decent other half, only one traumatic experience to her name - and determined to give the members of Septimal Moon the tools necessary to build to a (hopefully) stable and happy adulthood, and to grow to the best possible human they could be. This world naturally skewed to chaos, and she merely hoped to give it a little more balance, if possible. She brushed her scars with one hand before reaching for the file of her next visit. She'd be having him brought to her by someone if he tried to slip off this time. This merely fell in line with school requirements - surely a young man intelligent enough to lazily flit through his classes without absolutely failing was intelligent enough to realize that the longer he delayed something, the less likely he was to get his way. But no, he'd seemed to think that procrastinating would just make it go away or something. Children. Teenagers could be so exasperating. Of course, they were at their most exasperating when they featured files like Riva-san's. When her office door inched open, her gaze darted up from his file. "Indeed I did, Riva-san," she said. "Thank you for electing to actually show up this time." She started towards an old habit - placing the side of her head in her hands, the better to conceal her scars - before reminding herself that she'd decided not to hide it, and carefully laid her hands on the arms of her desk chair. Habits were a difficult thing to change, and she'd spent too much of the past four years on needless vanity. Whether she looked better with or without the scars was a moot point - she was not interested in becoming consumed with hiding them when there were more important things to do. "Please have a seat." She didn't intend to being to poke at him yet - she was interested to see if he would turn out to be one of the nervous babblers or stoic stare-for-starers. She suspected he didn't quit fit either, but it was always revealing to see the response to her silence. Tags; Sheeks Notes; bluhbluh Word count; 727

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[Sheeka Riva]

[cs=2][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,background: #121212; width: 500px; height: 45px;] [style= font-family: times; font-size: 35pt; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #467B94; margin-top: -20px;]DUSK LAMENT[/style] [style= background-color: #121212; font-family: courier new; font-size: 7pt; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 8px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: center; z index: 1; position: relative; color: #FFFFFF; margin-top: -30;]NIGHT BRINGS PAINFUL TEARS AND TWILIGHT STARS[/style]
[atrb=style,background: #212121; width: 150px; height: 400px; border-bottom:dashed thick #467B94; border-top:dashed thick #467B94][style=width:100px; height: 100px; border: 5px solid #333333; opacity:0.9;filter:alpha(opacity=40); margin-left:25px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/c0SALs.jpg); -moz-border-radius-topleft: 40px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-topright: 40px; -o-border-radius-topleft: 40px; -o-border-radius-topright: 40px;] [/style]   [style=width:100px; height: 100px; border: 5px solid #333333; opacity:0.9;filter:alpha(opacity=40); margin-left: 25px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Jr0v1s.jpg);] [/style]  [style=width:100px; height: 100px; border: 5px solid #333333; opacity:0.9;filter:alpha(opacity=40); margin-left: 25px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6QBZ2s.jpg); -moz-border-radius-bottomleft: 40px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft: 40px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright: 40px; -o-border-radius-bottomleft: 40px; -o-border-radius-bottomright: 40px;] [/style]	[rs=2][atrb=style,background: #121212] [style=margin-left: 10; border-bottom:dashed thick #467B94; border-top:dashed thick #467B94; height: 460px; width: 300; overflow:auto; background-color: #212121; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; color: #FFFFFF; padding-top: 15px; padding-bottom: 15px; padding-right: 10px; padding-left: 10px; text-align: justify; -moz-border-radius: 10px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px; -o-border-radius: 10px;] Sheeka closed the door lightly behind before taking a seat, a slight coloring of red tinting his cheeks as she thanked him for actually coming, rather than trying to avoid it like he had been for awhile know. He didn't like psychology. It...was weird...and he didn't like anybody knowing about him. He was in the mafia after all...that was supposed to be a secret. His head tilted slightly to the side as he glanced at the file on him she had. He wondered what all was in it. With the fact that Alessandro funded the school through the Riva's front of medical research and the like, Sheeka wondered what all Alessandro had allowed into his file. Probably the minimal amounts possible, now that he thought about it. School records, medical records...a few little things, here and there. The Rivas were very secretive about what they did after all. It was common knowledge that he and his sister were adopted - considering they looked nothing like either of their parents besides the same Italian look to them. As far as anything about what their life was before all this...well, that's what she wanted to find out, wasn't it? Sheeka's tail flickered back and forth slightly as he tried to think of something to say. If he didn't give her anything...then he would have to stick around until she got something concrete to report on, right? He wouldn't give her anything he didn't want her to have...but something so he could just...get out of there. "I didn't really have a choice," he commented, idly distraction himself with his stuffed tiger. "I figured I could only avoid it for so long..." He smiled slightly, nodding his head for a moment. "And I've learned that if I avoid something...eventually it'll happen. Just when is the question." He sighed slightly, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. "I avoid it because I don't like bringing up the past. There's nothing that can done to fix what's happened...so there's no point in bringing it up. Hence my avoidance of the entire thing when it comes to psychologists and the like," he admitted. [/style]
[atrb=style,background: #212121; width: 150px; height: 100px; border-bottom:dashed thick #467B94; padding: 2px 5px;][style=font-family: courier new; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 4px; font-size: 10; text-transform: uppercase;]words || 355 tagged|| Greta notes || Hmn. Sheeka didn't give her much to go on, besides the knowledge that something happened in the past he doesn't wanna talk about~[/style]
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[Gretl Schilke]

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[atrb=style, background-image: url('http://source4interiors.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/candicebluedamask-tone-on-tone29538_111.jpg'); border: 6px double #666A6D; border-top-right-radius: 50px; border-top-left-radius: 50px; border-bottom-right-radius: 50px; border-bottom-left-radius: 50px] we hide our eyes to blind them from the truth that finds a way from who we are please don't be afraid Greta always thanked her visitors for coming. Many were reluctant or annoyed, which was obviously not conducive to assessing their mental health, and it shook up all their expectations. People were terribly obvious with what they thought of both her and her profession, and that thanks had the tendency to embarrass them about how obvious their upset about everything was, as well as begin to create a positive image for her. She'd yet to find someone not immediately flustered by her typical greetings, and Sheeka Riva was not an exception, even if he did probably have secrets. She made a mental note to check with their resident hacker/world-stalker-extraordinaire to get some better information on Riva later. She knew his adoptive parents donated plenty of money to the school, but precious little about the family as a whole, and his papers were distinctly lacking, but she hadn't had the time before this. (Medical research was what papers said, but she'd learned how to spot concealed weapons of all sorts since her incident, and well, she'd spotted some the one time she met Riva-san's parents, at some event - very well hidden, but it added a layer of...interest). He hadn't had a choice, oh poor baby. It was probably a good thing she'd never been an impulsive child, or she'd never have been able to succeed in her chosen profession. While her external reactions were often wonderfully warm and empathetic, at least in session, no matter how she behaved, there was always that cold and detached little part of her brain commenting on everything. It was almost certainly the only reason she was able to do this, though - too much emotion for the patients would render her unfit to treat anyone, too little sympathy would similarly disqualify her. It was all a balance, just as everything was. He was stalling on this, of course, trying to figure out what she wanted to hear - the beauty of it was that she just wanted to hear what he had to say, not that he'd be able to figure that out, and even if he did, everything about his posture, voice, overall behavior indicated that he'd second-guess himself. Even if he was Conviction, he wasn't confident here, and that made the difference. She gave a slight sympathetic smile, eyebrows drawing together in that general tired look that everyone has made at least once in their life. No words necessary there- he did indeed have to do it, not like it was specifically her rule (though she approved of it) and nothing could be avoided permanently. Ah, but then he gave her something! Greta was careful to not give a big reaction, not that her impulses tended towards big reactions of any sort, but occasionally she'd have the feeling of lightning through her veins, and she was never entirely sure that her body would concede to stay still when that happened. He wasn't intending that to give as much as it did - but oh did it give. It could easily be taken for disinterest in self-reflection or some nonsense (granted, she'd seen some disgusting cases of that, but Riva gave none of those indicators). Combined with what little she already knew of him, it pointed, most likely, toward early childhood trauma. Of course, she could be wrong, but she was very rarely wrong. Her hand reached up, intentionally, to brush her scars. Let him guess that his words might have brought an absent habit out or something - her name didn't show, and wasn't commonly known, which made it all the easier to help guide impressions. "I don't know of anyone who likes to bring up the past," she said, "Nobody really comes to visit me on time, no matter how traumatic or kind their life has been." He'd been unsettled enough, now he needed a little soothing into place. What else to say... She needed some sort of prompt- anecdotes were good in any scenario except this, where the only helpful ones she could give would breach patient confidentiality, and she'd made an oath not to do that. "I've only had three people come in of their own accord in the five years I've been the psychlogist here." Small talk, but it relaxed most people a little. Made them feel more normal, less like some weird blob for - heavens forbid! - having problems in their lives. The better someone felt about themselves and their mental state, the more likely they were to open up, she'd found. It wasn't a constant...but it made it more likely. Tags; Sheeka Notes; HA HA BUSINESS college will be the end of me Word count; 764

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[Sheeka Riva]

[style=width: 435px;background-color: #710000; border-radius: 5px 5px; color: #710000;border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px; font-family: arial black; font-size: 11px; text-align: right; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; padding-top: 4px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-bottom; -1px;]Wishes will come true, I've become strong
We overcome reality with our own power... [/style]

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[STYLE=width:285px; background-color: #710000; border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px; overflow:auto; height: 350px; font-size:9px; font-family:arial; text-align:justify] Sheeka plucked lightly at one of the ears of his stuffed animals, intent on the cute stuffed tiger he held in his arms. It's presence definitely was making him feel better about the whole situation of dealing with a psychologist who wanted to learn all she could about him. It had taken Alessandro, Celino, and Lanza a lot longer to learn about him than Greta had time for. And that had been at a time when trust was something that nobody had because of certain situations he'd gotten himself into while he was alone. These days...being alone was one of the last things he wanted. He liked spending time with his family and with Shiru. The Rivas had become the family he never had and he was grateful for them and the kindness they had shown him taking an unknown child off the streets as their own son. Sheeka's tail flickered back and forth rather nervously as he tried to figure out what exactly she wanted to hear. He wasn't getting anywhere on that...but then again...maybe she was just to listen? He wasn't sure about that and no matter how much Conviction he had...his stepmother hadn't been good on his young psyche. What he believed in...were few and far between and he more often second-guessed himself over firmly standing by his thoughts. Part of him wondered what made him Conviction in the first place. Sure, there were things he believed in that he would be hard pressed to stop...like the way he blamed himself for something that wasn't his fault in the first place. His stepmother and his father had drilled that it had been his fault into his head and now...he continued to believe that. His head tilted to the side slightly at the slight sympathizing smile. She knew there was probably something wrong with him and she wanted to try to help him. Celino was sort of like that as well, with an uncanny ability tell if something was the matter. He would simply just be /there./ It was how he worked. She was right though, there were few people who enjoyed bringing up the past. Sheeka wasn't one of these people. Perhaps there were times it needed to be brought up, though? He didn't really know how to. Especially at such a moment in time. "I wouldn't even know how to go about bringing up the past. I don't like thinking about it...thinking about it...always brings out the bad memories and never the good." His childhood had few happy memories, after all. Most of which, were memories he could vaguely remember because he had been young at the time. The fact he had been through a childhood trauma was rather obvious - he was adopted after all. If something hadn't happened in his childhood that was bad, he wouldn't be adopted. His head tilted to the side slightly as he thought about it. "I suppose if the bad things hadn't happened, I wouldn't have been adopted by Papa and Celino, I probably wouldn't be here in Japan and I never would have met Shiru." He shifted in the seat slightly, realizing he'd given her more than he'd even wanted to and a soft shading of red crossed over his cheeks. He didn't like letting people bother themselves with things that had happened in the past. They were his issues. It was one of the reasons why he hadn't let Alessandro and Celino deal with his abusive parents. If anybody was going to deal with them, it was him...and with the way he was at the moment, he didn't blame them for anything at all. They may have blamed him, but he had long since stopped blaming them for something that had been his fault the entire time. He had indirectly caused the death of his mother. He was being punished. It was as simple as that.

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WORD COUNT; 649

NOTES; Derp. Sheeka said more than he wanted to. xD

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[Gretl Schilke]

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[atrb=style, background-image: url('http://source4interiors.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/candicebluedamask-tone-on-tone29538_111.jpg'); border: 6px double #666A6D; border-top-right-radius: 50px; border-top-left-radius: 50px; border-bottom-right-radius: 50px; border-bottom-left-radius: 50px] we hide our eyes to blind them from the truth that finds a way from who we are please don't be afraid Greta watched Sheeka's movements, calm as ever. Unlike most psychologists, she didn't bother with taking notes during her meetings with students. It usually distracted and discomfited them from actually talking. They'd get the idea they were somehow having their privacy intruded upon, when it was just a thing for memory. They were all children, though, and children are notoriously lacking in sensibility, for the most part. In a normal clinical setting, a psychologist could not film or record their patients without their explicit permission, but this was Septimal Moon, and there were security cameras everywhere - the ones in her room happened to be quite well disguised, though, and she'd made her peace with using their footage to generate her notes from, should her memory fail to be detailed enough for her notes. Her memory was usually more than detailed enough, however, and she'd only used the footage a handful of times. The video was primarily useful for those people who were incredibly still - the controlled, slightly rigid, motionless ones. In the footage, she could slow it down enough to catch extremely minute movements, the little half-starts and stops, the hesitations, the things she couldn't catch quite as easily just by observation. She rarely needed cameras for the fidgeters - the people who, like Sheeka presently, found themselves forced into some sort of motion by their agitation. Gods she loved fidgeters - they could be the most secretive people on the planet, and they'd still give themselves away in a heartbeat. They might not be as fun to figure out as someone who was incredibly secretive and still, but they made her job much easier, especially so far as understanding what she should say next. Given his focus on the plush creature, she made a mental note to comment on it soon. He was probably in the process of second-guessing himself at the moment, Greta guessed. For someone with the name Conviction, he was easily disconcerted. She supposed he would grow out of it, but for the moment, he was still an awkward teenager whose indecisions could be prodded at. Which meant that doing the unexpected was always a good thing. His next words made her want to roll her eyes, yet again. People very rarely remembered good things when they thought of the past - people were designed to pessimism, and even if they'd had as perfect a life as could be, they would remember better what hadn't happened that might have been good and what had happened that had been bad. Unless they were idealizing something, the bad was always what was remembered first. At least he could recognize that the bad things that had happened had led to some of the good things. Some people couldn't figure that out. "Your past belongs to nobody but you," she told him, "It's like anything else - there's no right or wrong way to bring it up. Everyone focuses on the bad things that have happened to them, when they think of their lives, because that's what shapes our personalities, and we build our lives around the bad. Many people avoid things that could make them incredibly happy, entirely because they're afraid of something bad happening, because something similar has gone wrong before. Cultures are built on avoiding what we see as negative." Shiru was the boy's Sacrifice, she remembered from the name. She hadn't met with the girl yet either, but she knew she'd seen her around the school. The two had to be nauseatingly adorable, especially since they'd met so recently. She needed something to throw him again, before they wound up just discussing pure hypotheses about the human psyche. Interesting as that was, it wasn't what he was here for or part of her job description. What was the best way to throw him...the plush came back to her mind. Something personal without being too personal. "Your tiger is very adorable," she said, "It reminds me of the one my niece has taken to carrying around." Good enough? Probably. She knew that when she was discussed, most of the students always mentioned that there was absolutely nothing known about her personal life, even though she mentioned little tidbits like this while speaking with students. They were usually too embarrassed that they'd had to talk to her - as if nobody else had to - to bother to recall what she'd said, but dropping things like that made her seem more human to the students, and relaxed them. You could only successfully be a mystery when you weren't trying to get information out of people, and she most definitely intended to be able to get people to talk. Tags; Sheekypie Notes; people usually do with Greta :L It's kinda her thing. Word count; 781

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[Sheeka Riva]

[style=width: 435px;background-color: #710000; border-radius: 5px 5px; color: #710000;border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px; font-family: arial black; font-size: 11px; text-align: right; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; padding-top: 4px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-bottom; -1px;]Wishes will come true, I've become strong
We overcome reality with our own power... [/style]

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[STYLE=width:285px; background-color: #710000; border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px; overflow:auto; height: 350px; font-size:9px; font-family:arial; text-align:justify] He knew he was fidgeting and that Greta, as a psychologist probably was trained to catch the minuet movements that the body made. Stop it, brain. Stop making fidgets. Stop it. He was forcing himself to calm down, trying to think of something else to help with his general agitation. He distracted himself with an image of Shiru's pretty eyes and seemed pleased by it, calming down enough to stop fidgeting. It was probably obvious that he was distracting himself with something, but with what was something he'd keep to himself. Shiru did have some pretty eyes, though. Teenagers seemed to always second-guess themselves more as they started making their own decisions, Sheeka seemed to have that habit in particular despite being Conviction. For somebody supposed to believe, belief wasn't really there for him. Perhaps there was something behind it, a reason why. Of course their was, he'd spend three years being abused by his father and his stepmother and then another year and a half being a run-away where some of his decisions hadn't worked out too well for him. He never regretted the decision to run away though because he had met Alessandro because of it and if he could change that, he wouldn't. Yes, everybody focused on the bad things in their life sometimes...but they were often some of the more important parts of their lives. Like for Sheeka, he remembered the night his mother died, although at this point in time...he could barely remember what she looked like. He had an older picture of her back in his room in Italy...but without that picture, he would have forgotten her face. He remembered the days after it because the neglect and abuse were all he knew then. He remembered the days he spent running around...but one of the fondest memories he had from when he was younger was the day he eventually took Celino's hand and allowed himself to trust again. "I remember everything after Papa and Celino took me in..." he stated quietly. "And to me, all those memories are good. Before that...there weren't any good memories and there hadn't been for several years at that point...I wasn't even sure about their intentions when we first met because of things that had happened - I tried to pick their pockets," Sheeka supplied rather helpfully. He was a bit more open to speaking, but still wasn't willing to give up very much. After a moment of silence, she mentioned his cute stuffed animal and it was obvious that he was pleased with that as he perked up about it, tail wagging furiously back and forth. She said the magic words. "I know~! Papa got it for me for my birthday last year~" he stated cheerfully, "I love stuffed animals. I have lots of them. You can never have too many stuffed animals." Definitely stuffed animals had a big impact on his life. And for a good reason. His obsessed with the creatures hadn't shot off until after his mother's death and his father began to neglect and abuse him. Stuffed animals were creatures who could never hurt you and they were always there if you needed them.

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WORD COUNT; 530

NOTES; mentioned dat stuffed animal made him so happy. xD Sheekawhysocute.

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[Gretl Schilke]

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[atrb=style, background-image: url('http://source4interiors.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/candicebluedamask-tone-on-tone29538_111.jpg'); border: 6px double #666A6D; border-top-right-radius: 50px; border-top-left-radius: 50px; border-bottom-right-radius: 50px; border-bottom-left-radius: 50px] we hide our eyes to blind them from the truth that finds a way from who we are please don't be afraid Greta noticed his agitation stilling and decided he must have a very good distraction for himself. No matter, though. That said nearly as much about him as his fidgeting - he'd needed to do this before, and knew how. (Was it hormonal stuff he was using? Probably, just because teenagers...) Teenagers had such interesting minds, most of them. They were ruled by emotions and fears almost moreso than adults - slightly less by fear of the future, maybe, but certainly by fear of the past - and not yet settled enough that they could genuinely see their own strengths and abilities in anything remotely resembling an even light. Much less their weaknesses. Adults were just as bad, of course, but it couldn't be blamed on their still-developing brains as it could be with teenagers. Sometimes teenagers problems would dissipate as their minds developed and they better understood their lives in a more rational context where they were not the center but merely a player in the events that had shaped them. Of course, some of them never recovered from believing that everything was their fault or revolved around them, but plenty did recover from that. Few people were as self-assured as teenagers or children as they would become as adults - Greta was perhaps one of those rare people, having always possessed faith in her ability to handle anything, and that faith had never been shaken until her attack. His words, of course, piqued her interest. Pick-pocketing your way to a better family... This, of course, implied a very negative previous family life, though with a happier start. Streets, presumably, then - that would be the start of any pick-pocketing, naturally. To question or not to question? "There are certainly a lot of unsavory people who would cause that, especially with a few years experiencing...things," she settled for. Not prying, but somewhat understanding. She'd guess at least one or two attempted rapes, and plenty of physical attacks, and made a mental note to do some research on Italy so she knew something beyond just "mafia" and "pizza and pasta (that started in China)", because she was definitely leaning towards the feeling that Sheeka might require some regular appointments. Trust-building, if you will. Streets explained his skittishness, and no matter how long he'd been off them, Greta recognized that he still needed the trust-building that even someone recently from them would need - perhaps not quite so extensive, but still serious. She allowed herself to smile at his enthusiasm. "My niece would certainly agree with you. She refuses to go anywhere without at least two, and absolutely loves them." She knew the typical reasons children would obsess over stuffed toys - neglect - after a certain age. Her niece was the proper age to be a fanatic, though if she was still quite so fanatic about them in a few years, Greta would be worried. As it was, she did go out of her way to spend time with the child, given that the girl's main caretaker was a nanny, since her parents were always working. And having multiple adults as supports never hurt anyone - she would be willing to bet that Sheeka could have used a dedicated relative, and that he also hadn't had one. Tags; Sheeks Notes; wow this took forever lo siento Word count; 546

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[Sheeka Riva]

[style=width: 435px;background-color: #710000; border-radius: 5px 5px; color: #710000;border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px; font-family: arial black; font-size: 11px; text-align: right; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; padding-top: 4px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-bottom; -1px;]Wishes will come true, I've become strong
We overcome reality with our own power... [/style]

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[STYLE=width:285px; background-color: #710000; border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px; overflow:auto; height: 350px; font-size:9px; font-family:arial; text-align:justify] He was saying more than he had honestly ever intended to, but it was...nice in a way, to be honest. Sure he had Alessandro and Celino to talk to about things, and now he even had Shiru. It was nice to talk to somebody who wasn't a part of the entire thing. He knew that the Riva's loved him deeply, but perhaps, they were a bit too emotionally involved to be of true help to him. Their emotions concerning him made it hard to truly stay neutral. Whenever he mentioned either of his parents, his stepmother and not his mother, he could see Celino and Alessandro give a fraction of anger in their expression. He hated his stepmother, yes...but with how his own emotions worked when it came to his self-blame over his mother's death, he didn't blame her for any of it. Didn't blame his father. It had been his fault the entire time...they were protecting themselves from him. Sheeka lightly played with the tail of his stuffed animal as Greta mentioned unsavory people in the world and he nodded his head in light agreement as one of his ears flicked back and forth. He hadn't meant to say so much...but it was liberating to be able to. He didn't like making Alessandro, Celino or Shiru worry. They did so much for him that he didn't want to burden them with his problems or his doubts. It was funny how, somebody who was supposed to believe was so doubtful of everything. He loved the three of them deeply, but there was an innate fear that if he did one little thing wrong that it would be the end of the road for any relationship and they'd abandon him like his father had. There were times where he hated his mother for leaving him along in the world...but that hadn't been her fault, it had been his. He hated himself for making her leave him alone in the world. Sheeka smiled softly at the mention of Greta's niece who also shared a fanatical love with stuffed animals...although, not nearly as much as the small child. He knew what people thought of his obsession. It wasn't normal. His stepmother and his father had known it hadn't been normal and had gone out of their way to try to take his stuffed animals away, but it had only made him want them more...he was afraid of not having them as a comfort, as something to chase away those lonely feelings. He hugged the stuffed animal tighter to him for a moment. "I don't know why, but I kind of like talking to you...you're not...emotionally invested in me like Papa, Celino, and Shiru-chan are," one ear delicately flicked back and forth in thought as he tried to explain what he meant by that. "I don't care if you hate me all you want, but I care if they do..." he pulled thoughtfully at one of the ears of his stuffed animals. "And, you don't know enough to make a judgement on things like they can..." his head tilted to the side slightly. "I can't...mention my father, or my stepmother to Papa or Celino without them wanting to go kill the both of them...and I don't blame them for anything...so I don't want them to..." Ah. A little bit more. His trauma had to do with his father and a stepmother.

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TAGS;

WORD COUNT; 567

NOTES; ohmy. A reply. I dunno what's going on in Sheeka's head right now. But he likes talking to Greta

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