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Stay Tuned (118070) | "Clearing out the webs inside my haunted head" |
Last Active: 2016-11-29 03:16:48
I'm Offline
| | Rank | 59 | | VIP/VIP+ Days | 0 / 0 | | Game Age | 5,716 | | Sex | Female | | Karma+/Verve+ | 1 / 0 | | Game Location | Greenwood | | Home Location | United States | | Collectibles | 2 (+0%) See All | | Reputation | 1 | | Missions R/P/S | 0/0/0 |
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| Status | Alive | | Battle Record | 19,981/39,390/114 | | Win % | 34% | | Alignment | -678 | | Last Killed | KevSolid | | Last Killed By | †Amia Wolfen™† | | Wins/Blood Today | 0/0 | | Avg. Blood | Slacking | | Power | 5,333 | | WP Spent | 0 | |
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ACCOMPLISHMENT MEDALS | 
Not VIP | 
N/A | 
Rank 50+ | 
10k+ Wins | 
5k+ Power |
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MARRIAGE, RP, FAMILY & HOUSES |
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| PROFILE |
Family tradition has a way of stating who and
what a person is, and who they sometimes become.
So I ask you, what`s in a name?
It all started a few generations back with a drunken
expectant father being drug by his ear into the
delivery room by his mother in law. That`s how the
late, great, John Le`Boe came to name his son Jim
Beam Le`Bou from the bottle in his hand, and slur to
his name. The new tradition carried on to his son who
was named Jack Daniels Le`Bou. But then came the
first baby girl into the mix. What to name a baby
girl and still keep the tradition going, especially
when the mother just happened to be a deflowered
belle of the south. And so; Shasta Pop Le`Bou became
the last of a very short line, but we`ll get to that
shortly.
The Curse was in the name Le`Bou from the start, and
no one escaped it. It all started with Jim Beam
Le`Bou, who true to his name took up the bottle from
and early age, and got himself eaten by a gator while
hauling one up into his boat. True he had fallen out
of the boat reeling the one he had shot in; but who
could or would have ever guessed that he would have
been eaten by what he was aiming to eat. One would
have hoped that with the passing of his father at
four, Jack would have learned a valuable lesson when
it came to the poison that he was named for; but he
too fell victim to the bottle.
People had hope for Papa Jack. That was the worst
crime of it all. Young Jack had started working in
his early teens. He nearly finished school. As a
drummer, he was an exceptional musician. He toured
and opened for a few major bands, but that all came
to a halt when he knocked up one of his groupies. He
married, and he even settled down. He took up roots,
and worked his way up from the slums and the wrong
side of the tracks to be accepted by the mucky mucks.
But that all ended in the swirl of the mud and blood
in the wake of hurricane Katrina.
Most people think the worst tragedy Katrina could
claim was the flooding and loss of life that came
from it, but Shasta can tell you different. No, the
true horror show was when the convicts escaped the
prison and made best of their new found freedom. Papa
Jack was a good father, really he was; but the love
of his life was always Anne. And, Anne and Shasta
were downstairs scavenging what they could for food
when they came in through the front window. It was
the splashing in the knee high and slowly rising
water that had alerted Anne to the intrusion, and
Anne`s calling out to Jack that had alerted them to
her.
I could stop here, and you could guess how the story
goes; but to feel the heartache that claimed two more
lives, one must read it for themselves. Turn back now
if don`t want the details.
They laughed and caroused as Anne worked against a
struggling young Shasta to force her into a broom
closet. There, closed in the tight space, a thin
shaft of light sifting in through the crack of the
door eclipsed by the weight of her mother; Shasta
heard them come into the kitchen. She cringed and
fell back against the sagging wall as the light came
flooding back in through that crack when her mother
was yanked away, her movements lost in the rolling
thunder that was her father rushing down the
stairs.
Her hand came to her mouth, her eyes blinded by
tears. the words and the sounds muffled by the door,
the sloshing water, and the roar in her ears. But,
even to a young mind riddled with fear, there was
nothing her mind imagined that could have prepared
her for what she slowly began to understand. Papa
jack`s rampaging was the first thing to stop. Then
Anne`s shouting had given way to sobbing and
pleading. Some of the words she was given to
understand along with the rythmic slapping, so she
covered her ears and lowered herself down into the
water until it was chin deep.
She might have escaped untouched had she not clung so
desperately to hope, but when she heard the gunshot,
she choked. She screamed, and scrambled, back against
the wall of the box she was in. They heard, and they
hauled her out to pin her face down on the table as
they slid her mothers corpse down off the table to
sink into the muddy water. Sightlessly she had stared
at her from a similar position for a single second,
and then she was gone. Her own hand was forced down
into the sticky mess that had once been her mothers
brains and blood.
The shock gave way to pain and then back again, as
they used her one by one. Her prepubescent body was
not ready or easily yielding. Things ripped and tore
to make way for the violence, but nary a sound fell
from her lips, save her occasional choking for air.
They soon tired of their game since she proved to be
of little sport, and one by one they started to
wander away as the water crept up to the backs of her
thighs. It was down to the last two, the one waiting
his turn, and the one finishing up, when the one
leaving told the other to "finish the job". It wasn`t
the relief it was meant to be when the remaining man
wrapped his hand round her mouth, and shot up into
the ceiling.
Everything can change in the blink of an eye. When
jack woke, he was on the roof. Drug there, by the
still bleeding, and now unconscious ruin there beside
him on the roof. It didn`t take a genius to figure
out that Anne was gone when he crawled to the hole in
the roof to stare down into the Black waters just a
few feet below. He was badly beaten, and it took a
few confusing minutes for it to all come flooding
back. The last terrible memories of his sweet,
precious, Anne. The fact that Shasta had been mauled,
and yet had still managed to haul them both to safety
didn`t even register. There among the meager
provisions was one saving grace. A bottle of Jack to
crawl into, and never come out of.
Three Le`Bou down, and only one more to
go.
In an institution
The girl sitting across from her had been beaten to a
pulp. Bruised ribs, fractured jaw, busted lips, and
one terribly swollen black eye. The problem was, the
girl wouldn`t tell anyone what had happened to her.
In fact, according to the report before her, the girl
hadn`t spoken a word in well over a year. She was
despondent, but she had a hard time believing that
the girl was the catatonic that her grandmother had
claimed her to be. She showed the occasional twitch
of irritation, and cringed as if expecting to be hit
when she heard loud noises or raised voices. She
started at the sound of a chair scraping on the
floor. No, to her it was very clear that there was in
fact, something there. Buried somewhere deep beneath
the surface.
Days passed into weeks, and the weeks into a month
when a pattern emerged. The only time that Shasta
refused to make eye contact, was when her grandmother
was in the room; and her grandmother was always in
the room. Today Shasta sat across from her with her
head turned to one side, her vacant eyes staring off
at some unseen spot on the wall. It was a bold move,
one that could give her more grief than she cared to
get a lawyer for, but she herself was loosing sleep
because she had to know her story. The girl was like
a book on the shelf at a good coffee house that
simply needed to be cracked.
"Shasta, today we are going to try something new.
Today your grandmother will not be joining us for
session" It was a long shot, such a long shot with
the prim old woman in the observation booth behind
her. She had to watch every word, and make every one
count, and something told her that she didn`t have
very long to try it. The silence drew on to an almost
irretrievable point, when the corner of her eye
pinched and her head slowly swiveled around to face
her, but those haunted green eyes flit to the big
mirror set into the wall behind her, and Shasta
looked away again. She had to act on it, before the
window of opportunity closed.
"Shasta.. I can`t give you this opportunity again.
Please.." *there was an unwelcome crack in her voice
that she cleared away and replaced with a
professional tone as quickly as she could manage.
"please let me help you." The girls head whipped
around, her eyes were filled with hate and rage when
she looked at her again, and a voice came out over
the intercom. It was the old woman. She said
"enoughx!" She should have stopped, but she had to
try one last time. Just one softly spoken and earnest
word. "Please!"
No one could have predicted the evil twist of a grin
that lit across those lips as she began to open her
mouth. Her first words, the first ones she had spoken
since she had given her name at the Louisiana
Superdome so long ago, came horse and sadistic from
her mouth. "Shall we start with why I`m really here?"
Her arms pressed against the table as she leaned in,
and what she had to say next was almost lost by the
crackling of sound that was now coming from the
speaker as an attendant clearly struggled with the
old woman to keep her from silencing the girl over
the intercom. "Do you think it was by some accident?
or do you really believe someone beat and raped me
when I was never even let out of the house?" The girl
was only 14, yet she was speaking as if she were a
scorned and bitter woman fully grown!
Dr. Jetta Stone was near tears of frustration herself
when the old woman came scratching and clawing at the
door. She was so close. Just as close to a lawsuit as
she was to the truth. It took everything she had to
tear herself away from the table, and go with the
orderlys and the old woman down the hall and into her
office. It was over before it had started. Donna
Gentry was demanding to have her Grand daughter
released or she would sue. But back in the
interrogation room, (for that`s truely what it looked
like), Shasta lifted her head and locked eyes with
the gleaming red light inside the grey plastic dome
in the corner of the room on the ceiling, and began
to speak yet again.
She recounted then in ghostly and cryptic tones the
entirety of her tale. She told of how she had come to
only to find her father dead on the roof that evening
after she had struggled so long to bring him out of
the death trap that had become their home alive. She
told of her panic with detachment, but in detail. She
had swept the puke out of his mouth, she had breathed
into him and pumped at his chest in a vane attempt to
restart his heart, all of this only to fail. He had
drank until he had passed out, and then he had
asphyxiated on his own vomit. She told of how she had
rocked herself, begging and pleading for death to
come to her too, how she had fallen asleep crying;
only to feel utter betrayal upon waking.
her eyes clouded for only a few moments as her story
gave way to visions of remembrance, and the emotions
crossed her face like clouds across a blood moon.
Sucking in a breath and blinking she focused on the
camera again. She told of how she had used a bag of
flour to spell out the word help on the roof after
rolling her father off the edge. Then the brief
details of the airlift and her ride in a helicopter,
only to be made part of the wretched and stinking zoo
of the dome. She drifted some as she recounted how
she had struggled to clean away all of the dried
blood and how once she had fresh clothes she had
burned the others and warmed her hands over that
fire. Her smile then grew ugly again, and her tone
took on a sarcastic lilt as she explained how her
grandmother had come to get her and take her to her
home.
At this point the door to the room opened and Shasta
gripped the table that was bolted to the floor,
desperate for it all to be told, to let it all out. A
voice cut across the room just as the young man
reached for her. "Leave her be, let her finish"
    
Proud player of R.O.B. since Sunday, January 18, 2009
2013-04-30 19:03:00 Shasta Le Bou (118070)s battle leveled up the coven
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RATE PROFILE |
Stay Tuned's average rating out of 83 rates is 8.45/10 |
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| COMMENTS |
†Damon Whispers† (616405)
 | 2013-07-03 19:40:16
Hello!!!  | Rinnie Aspicio (321449)
 | 2013-05-22 14:54:48
Welcome to the Asylum! Please check out the forums for help and any questions you might have. If you have time, join us in chat, or ask any of the staff here regarding any questions you come up with. Let me know what you would like your coven name and color to be. I hope you enjoy your time with us and look forward to seeing you around. Have fun! | Wilma Dikfit (351335)
 | 2013-05-22 09:32:45
Well good morning Shasta | †.Incendia†.D.†.Pascal.† (187760)
 | 2013-05-16 22:44:08
-blinks then quirks a brow- Eh? What's up Shazz? | Devlynn DS LS Eternal (107796)
 | 2013-05-16 10:35:46
No they just list who they want in the forum and the rules are there | Devlynn DS LS Eternal (107796)
| 2013-05-16 10:29:22
Just one darling but I need three *Winks* as does Dolly | Zeffer ToA (256156)
 | 2013-05-15 16:36:03
Dressed all in black like a ninja, he creep all over her profile. pulling out several sticks of glue, he be quick at his work as not to he caught. moving around in odd patteren he coat he profile with the glue. He dash out and return with a bag. reaching in he grab hand fulls of what was in side and toss it around her profile. waiting some time he gather up the lose rose petals as the ones left formed two interconnecting hearts. taking the glue he start writing inside the heats till he was done, reaching back into the back he pull out an assortment of glitter, taking each bottle he sprinkle it over the writing as he make each letter a different color, cleaning up his mess he dash off leaving this said, "I wonder who it be that is crushing on me" | Phoenix Sainte (134851)
 | 2013-05-13 04:27:04
-Sneaks onto her profile while dragging a large bag behind him. Reaching her wall, he'd stretch for a moment before getting to work. Reaching within the bag, a neon green spray can of paint was was fetched. Which he used the following moment to spray "Welcome to the Den, Shasta! Good to have ya there." Glancing across the sprayed bit, he finished by adding a <3 to the end of it before he tossed the can back into the bag. Reaching into it once more, something appearing to look like a large fruit basket was pulled out of it. Yet on closer inspection, it would be completly filled with all sorts of candy. Including enough lolli's to last her a while.
Casting a glance around, he was content with his handy work. Hence why he grabbed the bag again to sneak back to his own profile.- | Shazar south Impaler (160367)
 | 2013-05-10 04:44:03
thank you darling...and you so know! | Shazar south Impaler (160367)
| 2013-05-09 04:35:46
ure gonna make me use a stronger weapon aren't you? | Shazar south Impaler (160367)
| 2013-05-06 01:54:17
nothing it's just your a cutie | Shazar south Impaler (160367)
| 2013-05-04 23:40:18
damn | Wilma Dikfit (351335)
| 2013-05-02 09:57:43
My tea? Cold? Where have you been?! :/ | Wilma Dikfit (351335)
| 2013-05-02 09:50:41
Shasta! <3! | Dev Bloodrav (166493)
 | 2013-04-28 18:41:33
welcome to the coven if i can get you anything to make your stay more enjoyable please dont hesitate to let me know | Sunshine Birch (353331)
 | 2013-04-20 06:13:23
This girl needs more love!  couldn't help myself, stopped by and had to spruce the place up a bit! Look for me online sometime.;) miss you! | Wilma Dikfit (351335)
| 2013-01-17 10:23:26
 | Wilma Dikfit (351335)
| 2012-09-19 09:31:59
N'aw a missed you too (: glad you're doing well <3 | Wilma Dikfit (351335)
| 2012-09-18 09:28:20
Well hi there shasta (: Been a while how are you? | Sunshine Birch (353331)
| 2012-06-06 04:38:17
Still ringing your doorbell. Come out to play! |
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