[justify] [justify]Oh you poor, unfortunate soul.

I see how you look at me with those frantically tired eyes, the purple bags hanging beneath them as a reminder of yet another sleepless night. I see the wild frenzy mass of hair that sits upon your head, telling everyone that you can't even bring yourself to fix your appearance in the morning anymore. I see the way you timidly and cautiously carry yourself through the streets, your own paranoia driving you completely mad. Something's happened, with you, hasn't there? Something that you desperately need to cover up.

Oh, you unfortunate soul, it's fortunate that you have come across me. You see, that's the area I specialize in. It's what I do, it's what I live for. I cover things up for people who are in dire need of covering. I can cover this up for you. Oh, it's quite simple really. All I have to do is remove the blame from your shoulders, and place the burden upon my own. It's nothing really - just a mere act of charity. And, soon, your life will be back to normal, and you can once again walk about the streets without guilt and paranoia pulling you back. It sounds lovely, now, doesn't it?

Have we got a deal?

[justify]Why the sudden hesitation, my friend? Oh, you've heard of me before, you say? What do those mean people say about me? Tricks up my sleeves? Why, no. Even if I did have such foolish tricks up my sleeves, why does everyone always come back to me in times of trouble, still? Oh, they're all drawn to my help like moths to a bright light. They simply need me for their own survival. And, trust me when I say this honey, you need me right now, too. Besides, don't you understand the way I work? I've got absolutely nothing to hide.

Trust me.

Oh, but I do believe that we've yet to discuss the subject of payment.

I'm not asking for much. Just a token, really, a trifle. Something to simply remind me that my acts of charity don't go unnoticed, that they're not acted in vain. Logical, isn't it? In order for me to help you, you have to give me something back. After all, you can't just get something for nothing.

Maybe I'd like a simple head piece to decorate my pale, blonde locks. Or, perhaps, even a tiny comb to brush out the knots that tangle themselves in my long hair. Or, if you decide you'd like to offer me simple clothing, make sure to find the right size. Large sweaters usually hang off of my skeletal body with a ghostly effect, and small shirts cling to my rib cage and makes me appear more lanky than I already am - and we wouldn't want that, now would we? Don't think about giving me make up for the deal, my pale skin and naked green irises serve me well as is. However, jewelry would go nicely around my skinny neck, or slender fingers. Preferably of a gold color, don't forget that. Maybe even new shoes, so I won't feel as heavy as usual when I take the blame for your mistakes.

I'm not asking for much, am I?

Good. That's what I thought.[/justify]

[justify]Now, it's happened once or twice. Someone couldn't pay the price - and I'm afraid I had to rake them across the coals. Yes, I've had this rare complaint, but on the whole I've been a saint to those poor unfortunate souls.

Wouldn't you agree?

Can you really blame me, though, my friend? These random acts of kindness shouldn't be taken for granted, now should they? I never ask for much. I still do more than they give. It shouldn't hurt to ask for a little something in return. It is true, I suppose, that I sometimes make a compromise with them to... assist me in my daily leisures for maybe a day or a week at most. Nothing backbreaking, is it? No, of course not.

So, here's the plan: I take the blame for your mistakes, suffer the consequences, and you're free to flit about enjoying whatever you enjoy most. In return, you can give me a gift. Though, I must say, I am quite the picky perfectionist. "Too fastidious for your own good," my mother used to say. It'd be oh so much easier if you just agreed to serve as my slave little assistant for the next week. You see, all you have to do is take an oath, and help me with a few things here and there. Maybe I'll ask you to make me some lemonade for my parched throat that took the blame of your crime, or a short back massage for my aching back that carries the consequences of your actions. It'd be easier. Oh so much easier.

Have we got a deal?

.........

[justify]You don't mean to tell me that you're backing out, now are you? Goddammit, I haven't got all day. It's either you're in or you're out. It'd be fucking great if you stopped hesitating for five fucking seconds.

Oh, sweetie, take all the time you need. I understand how it must feel to be in the situation you're in. To choose to accept my offer and be free from such burdens, or to continue gaining constant guilt for what you have committed. Obviously, it's a touch decision. But life's full of touch choices, isn't it? Fantastic, now I've got her boys. The boss is on a roll.

Oh you poor unfortunate soul. I'm so glad that you've decided to accept my offer.

[/justify]

[justify] [justify]I still remember the day it all began.

Who was it that broke mom's priceless pearl necklace, again? Maybe Nessie, with her constantly shaking and fidgeting of hands. Or Kelpie, while practicing one new move he learned during training that day. Whoever it was, they knocked down mom's jewelry box, and it crashed to the floor with a sickening clunk. The pearls crashed to the stone floors, pieces of the white substance scattering all around the room. Although I don't remember the face of the criminal, I can still recall the fear that shook in their voice. "Mom's going to kill me." And then, the idea occurred to me, sprang up inside of me like the first dandelion breaking through snow after a harsh winter. "She can kill me instead of you, if you want."

Mom beat me to a pulp that night, but I went to sleep without a single tear shed. I lay in bed recalling the day's events, my sibling agreeing to serve me for a week as long as the truth was never revealed, my voice never faltering in front of my mother when taking the blame, the sharp blows I received from my mother's unforgiving hands, and the strength I possessed in those otherwise terrifying moments. I had nothing to fear for, anyway. A week's worth of bossing around my sibling was worth a few smacks.

From that day on, a new Ursula was born.

Oh, but I suppose I should give you an early warning, my friend. In case you tragically decide to go back on your word. Let me tell you a story.

It was one of my school mates, Lorraine. Have you heard of her before? No? I wouldn't think so, she hardly speaks to anyone nowadays. The poor thing. Well, I made a deal with her, you see. She'd accidentally broken her little sister's golden charm bracelet and asked me if I could tell her sister that I did it, instead of her. "Of course, of course I'll do it." I told her reassuringly. "For a price." It was an inexpensive price, really, almost nothing. This is what happens when I give something and get nothing. She, however, never paid that price. So, I made sure she never had to worry about confessing something bad to her sister. Ever again. Of course, I never knew that convincing her little sister to swim in the sea during a storm would drown her. No, I didn't know that treading in those grey waters during that grey day would be deadly. I never wished for my persuasive words to kill. But - At least Lorraine learned her lesson.

This is what happens to those who forget to pay their price. This is what happens to people who dare to steal from me.

Don't forget to pay, sweetie. And thank you for your business. [/justify]

Lyrics from the song are scattered everywhere, I hope they make sense...

oh and for the history, I totally intersected my other d4's history in there. is that okay? I'll rewrite it if you think that makes Ursula too sinister.

NORMAL // CCBBAA
EMPHASIS // BB9999
THOUGHTS // 887766
SPEECH // EEDDDD
HEADINGS // 663344 and EEDDCC