<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/Y9I3Er3.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Salem Summers | “Cyclops”<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Yolande's Dormroom doorframe<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Sept. 6th, 6:50 pm<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Meticulous<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Salem starts the official list. She fills it out as best she can, and then hands the paper to Yolande, Salem is struggling with Yolande's exposed skin. She's so thirsty, she can't help herself. Salem goes to the window and goes big picture on Yolande, about the frustration of being in the mansion, and the hopes of having the prison like sensation lifted.<br/><strong>wearing:</strong>red sweater in avatar photo. Blue jeans. black ballet flats. Hair up in a ponytail.<br/><hr/>As the two of them kept on, Salem felt more and more comfortable. She sank into the chair a bit more, her eyes were more stable, more focused on the conversation an dless on the dancing lower hem of Yolande’s clothing. Salem was so frustrated sexually, that any little amount of excitement sent her into a bit of downward spiral.<br/><br/>The more time she spent with nothing in her hands, and nothing to distract the more and more her eyes were going to shift down. It was a new sensation, but the idea of being close to another woman was almost as exciting as being with a man. Salem was getting desperate. She reached for the notebook in her bag. In the next moment, her pen clicked and she had opened to a blank sheet of paper. She gave the paper a heading, and non-chalantly began to put the date, Yolande’s full name, and the words ‘desired inventory’ before she started to scratch out the girls requests onto the paper.<br/><br/><strong>“There’s a list forming here, I might as well.” </strong>She was organized, and the paper was split into actual items that Yolande had asked for that she could provide, the other half of the paper was for things that Yolande wanted from home. And then a task list at the bottom that included where she would need to go to get these things, as well as the words ‘bring Yolande to office phone’.<br/><br/>The list was filling itself out quickly, Salem then could look down, and focus on her writing. She still looked up to Yolande when she spoke, but not long enough for her to get distracted by smooth thighs, and the peaking of other parts just behind them.<strong>“I’m focusing on the things I can get you now, things in the mansion. And yeah, I can show you the phone tomorrow or whenever.”</strong><br/><br/>Salem handed Yolande the pen and the paper when she had finished writing down everything they’d already spoken about.<strong>“Go ahead and write down anything else that comes to mind. We might have it here, I keep this place stocked. Put anything down, you might be surprised.”</strong>There was a good section in small letters that said ‘Alcohol’ on it, and Salem had diligently recorded her taste.<br/><br/>Once Salem handed Yolande the paper, she stood up and made her way to the window. It was easier to keep her eyes off of Yolande’s naughty bits when she put the girl, physically, behind her. There wasn’t much to see outside of the window, but it was a natural movement, and she decided to hold there for a while. The view got Salem to start thinking too. She had done most of her job already, there was no reason to stay completely professional now.<strong>“Things’ll change.”</strong>She glanced back, to look at Yolande, and see if the girl knew what she was talking about.<strong>“We’re not trapped here forever.”</strong>She turned back to the window, Salem looked up toward the sky, peering at the stars through the reflection of Yolande’s bedroom in the glass.<strong>“I heard about all the stuff, the wall in the hall, and the rest…” </strong>Salem wasn’t too bothered by it all, her tone made it sound like she was on Yolande’s side.<strong> “It’s been hard for you to adjust here. But do your best to patient.” </strong>Salem had lost count of the days that she’d been confined to the mansion.<strong>“Everyone feels cooped up here. You’re not alone in the frustration, or the pain.” </strong>