Hello everyone! I'm back with the final chapter of Latana. It's meant to show her overpowered qualities more in action and to give some insight into her thought process in a big setting. It's pretty heavy with purple prose. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I apologize for how long it took, but stay tuned for more cringy "goodness"! The next chapter will have a new Mary Sue, but I won't be giving any spoilers into her character. You'll have to see for yourself. :)
And without further ado, here is Latana's writing sample!
A tall female walks in the opposite direction of a party. She has the perfect model physique - with long, sculpted legs and slender arms that are proportionate in the best way. Her waist is small, her bust is larger than most, and her hips are round and perky. Her skin was naturally flawless, perfectly smooth like the skin of a young child, but was given an extra special treatment for the event. The combination of the voices of dozens is heard behind her as she determinedly focuses on walking to her destination, her hair swaying with every step she takes.
Latana Maxwell is this woman. Although Latana highly prefers to dress unpretentiously, she was fabulously adorned for this exclusive occasion. Her outfit consisted of mixed colors and styles. She wore a Marchesa Notte knee-length double-layered dress fashioned from champagne tulle, boasting a round neckline, sheer long sleeves with flared cuffs, and sequin embroidery. Her Valentino 'Rockstud' leather sandals were a chic complement to the formal dress. It added an edgy opulence, with a slim stiletto heel and gilded pyramid studs that added 3 inches to her height. With her outfit, she sported a Lanvin gold glass embellished choker with gemstone embellishments and a lobster clasp closure as well as her classic Courrèges pink and gold-tone metal sunglasses. Along with this, she held The Row's suede clutch, crafted in Italy from plush black suede and holding a unique design that allows her to "hold" it by slipping it onto the wrist with a braided satin strap.
She also glamoured her face for this occasion. Although Latana is a typically modest woman, she wore only applied the best brands of makeup before her big appearance at the party. She applied her luxurious Tourmaline BX Skin Relaxor Cream, a silky and unique moisturizing mixture made up of plant stem cells, deep sea minerals, phospholipids, liposomes, diamond dust, and gem stones, over her face and allowed it to dry. The diamond dust and gemstones assist in lightening the face for a flawless complexion. On top of this, Latana mixed and matched makeup and accessories from her favorite brands, including Guerlain, Smashbox, and more.
She applied the Smashbox Photo Finish Foundation Primer, a transparent gel that smooths the skin and blurs out imperfections. Although Latana's skin is absolutely flawless naturally, using this gives her face an even smoother and soft-to-the-touch texture before she applies even more makeup. Next, she applied the Guerlain Terracotta Bronzing Powder, contouring along the sides of her forehead, her cheekbones, from her cheekbones to her chin, and then finishing with a stroke down the neck. She also contoured her nose a bit. To contour, she used the Guerlain 'Lingerie De Peau' Foundation Brush. She then applied the nectar-colored Elizabeth Arden Ceramide Cream Blush, dotting it along her cheekbones and blending it into her skin. For an extra layer of color intensity, she chose the blush and highlighter from her Lancome Star Bronzer Palette and used the Star Bronzer brush to bestow the intense, brightening colors on her tanned skin in a neat and efficient manner. It worked with her skin tone and looked natural but was unique enough to make people look twice.
She still had not completed her accessorised look. She went to her eyes, using the Helena Rubinstein Surrealistic Everfresh Mascara. Although Latana's ink black lashes are naturally thick in a way that many would envy, the Everfresh Mascara boosts her lashes even further, elongating them to even more unbelievable lengths. Next, she used Yves Saint Laurent 'Eyeliner Noir' Liquid Eyeliner and brushed it onto her eyelids perfectly to create a flawless slim winged eyeliner. Above her eyeliner, she used a small brush and used the Mystery Brown Wanted Eyes Palette. The intense matte shades were a beautiful bold emphasis on her eyes that complimented her noir winged eyeliner. She accentuated her eyebrows using the mahogany Lancome Le Crayon Poudre Eye Brow Pencil. After this, she applied the Christian Louboutin Silky Satin Lip Color to brighten her lips and give them a bold, bright contrast to her lightly tanned skin and deep brown hair.
Still, her look was not complete. She manicured her nails, first perfectly brushing a layer of MINE Luxury 24K Gold Nail Lacquer, a fine and richly pigmented polish made using raw gold and non-toxic materials. She applied this to both her fingernails and toenails. Latana went to the party, being driven by her own chauffeur, a woman named Mariana who was only a few years older than Latana. Her hair was short at neck-length but atramentous in color. Her eyes were a piercing hazel color that was green in majority and had a ring of light brown around her pupils. Latana politely requested for her not to come back to retrieve her.
The party was a private one that took place in the Copacabana, the most legendary venue in New York. There were around 300 people in the room. Many influential people were there, mostly billionaires, philanthropists, actors and actresses, models, and the like. Everyone had formal clothing. During the party, there was laughter. Chattering filled the rooms and the loudness of all the combined voices made it difficult to distinguish one voice from another. The range of vocals, however, was astounding. It was a fascinating spectrum of tones and pitches. On the higher side of the spectrum, some women had young, youthful voices that didn't necessarily match their age, while men with unique baritone voices were present on the opposite side of the spectrum. The personalities, however, were not as variable and unique. Many people were rather superficial and liked drama, often gossiping about each other and giving out opinions on subjects they knew little to nothing about, but people as such were more welcomed than not. People would walk to and fro to grab a martini or a daiquiri, downing it and getting more, and would talk endlessly, engaging in small talk that they clearly had no problem with.
Latana exited the building after the party had gone on for 2 hours. A male chauffeur, dressed in a tuxedo and sporting an auburn English mustache, was paid by the host offered to take her home, but she declined. Her home wasn't far, and she wanted time to herself to ponder, to wonder and relax in thought, to recall the events in the deep, twisting caverns of her mind that would come up to the surface of her filed memories. These she often regretted.
The sky was dark and clear, with a midnight color that covered the upper atmosphere like a perfectly extended blanket. Dainty rows of stars lined the night sky, glittering like finely cut gems in the most expensive jewelry stores, the kinds that people would pass by and gaze with wonder at the glorious, lustrous allure. The moon shone bright and white, which was a rarity for the commonly clouded skies of New York City. It reflected off of her hair, which shone brightly as she walked and was very noticeable. Latana walked with perfect posture, down the asphalt sidewalk that paved the sides of the roads of New York. Her bare heels made an isolated sound of clacking against the barren concrete of the sleeping city.
As she walked, she dug deep into her mind, recalling the tiresome events of the night, memories sitting at the surface of her cognizance, washing onto the shore of the beach that was her recent collective memories.
She recalled how lively she acted. The public would refer to her as a strident painter of words, with her lips being the paintbrush and her words painted pictures with whatever came to mind. In the eyes of the normal civilians who paid vast attention to her uncommon social presence, she could paint warmth or cold, harsh pictures with the words that would escape her lips. This time, her words oozed warmth and she would add on and on without a care. But she did care. She cared very much. In the depths of her soul that not even the paparazzi could see, she felt an uncomfortable feeling when she would talk and act extroverted overall. She knew it wasn't her. Normally she disliked talking, but she could blend in with an extroverted crowd seamlessly.
Why did she have to feel so empty? She found no happiness or joy in talking to people about trivialities - whether it be fashion, gossip, politics, or other topics. She hated it with a great passion. This is one of the main reasons she's so quiet around social media and media, in general, most of the time.
She felt as if she had to constantly pull herself to fake it. Well, as they say, she "faked it till she made it." And she still has to continue to fake it. She must, for her sake and for the sake of her deceased brother, Jeremy. He wanted them to become very famous and make a name for themselves after being saved from the dangerous streets of Argentina, where people would die at the hands of relentless criminals. They would drive in old, outdated cars and commit drive-by shootings, which would kill multiple people at a time. in this same frenzy, people would be running away to save themselves. Many times, the criminals would also stab people to death with knives or other sharp objects. They would laugh and wear the blood stains on their clothing proudly and as a symbol of high status. From those streets, Latana and Jeremy rose. Latana rose much faster, however, because modeling companies found potential in her despite her being a rambunctious, rebellious child with ADHD who could fool even the most capable adult. Jeremy wanted her fame but never got it sadly. Her dear brother's death would not be in vain. That she knew with her entire being.
She remembered the drinks she ordered, sipping them down and feeling the alcohol lightly buzzing in her throat. It helped her to stay focused on the task at hand: talking. It bought her some time to think about her next words.
A lightness and warmth would envelope her further and further with each drink, the variety of flavors on her tongue that ranged from a warm, sweet fruitiness to a strong, straightforward taste that was almost of pure alcohol, the brief numb feeling that would make its way smoothly down her esophagus and left a tingle in her stomach. She felt confident and almost every thought that came to mind would be on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be verbalized by her angelic voice and poised wording. A smile would curl onto her mauve lips, and a laughter like rushing waters, rising and lowering, would spill from her and make people laugh, and overall felt much more relaxed and happy.
That is, until she faced the reality that pulled her down to Earth and hit her with a strong force, a sudden realization that almost hurt to think about. She couldn't drink her way through every social situation.
She exited from the troubling melancholy caverns of her mind as she heard the sound of pushing and pulling and then a female scream, the high pitch of the shriek reverberating through the hushed air. The sounds of loud footsteps pacing in a quick pattern that sounded like multiple feet at a time, as well as soft waves of crying, followed.
Latana chased the sound, and it led her into an alley. A small woman with a girlish body shape was backed up into the corner, solemnly tucked and crying softly. She wore a lilac dress and matching heels. However, the dress was roughed up with stains from being on the rocky ground. Her flowing, auricomous blonde hair was the color of pure gold, dug up from the deepest mines and cleaned until it shone pure and radiant. It fell down her shoulders in waves and flowed all the way to the ground, where it settled, only moving as the woman's chest rose and fell with her achy crying.
Latana walked over to her. "What's wrong?" she asked, a soft expression on her face. She wanted to help. She wanted to stop this lady's crying, the anguish of her very soul that was surfacing itself through salted tears that slid down her cheeks and to her chin and accumulated on the cold, barren area, leaving stains in the asphalt and granite mix she sat on.
Latana waited expectantly for the woman to inform her. She wanted to put whoever made this lady cry in his or her place. She was already getting angry just thinking about what could have happened to her. Her breathing was getting stifled and sharp, and she appeared to be getting slightly red with anger.
"I was walking to my car, but I saw two men were following me. I-I tried to make them stop by taking shortcuts, but they didn't. Eventually, they cornered me and took my belongings. My purse with everything in it, including my phone. It's purple, and an expensive purse, too. I won't be able to get in my car without my keys, and they're in my purse. My home is so far from here, so I need my car keys." The woman's voice was achy and her words were choked.
"Do you know where they are?" Latana asked softly, her voice being warm and velvety, like silky fabric wrapping around her vocal cords and gracing her with the vociferation of that of an angel. Her sharp eyebrows furrowed and her perfect mauve lips twisted into a scowl at the thought of the two disgusting, evil thieves. Her Argentinian accent dominated her soft voice, coming through strongly.
"They went in that direction." The woman pointed in front of her in the direction that Latana was walking at first: north.
Latana nodded and went in that direction. She ran and ran with her expensive heels. Eventually, at her top speed, she caught up as she saw one of two men grasping the handle of a brilliant lilac satchel with his large, veinous hand. They were taller than her, reaching at least 6 feet. One was a middle-aged fellow, with unkempt curlicue locks the color of the exterior of fresh whole ginger. He also had a face full of coarse, short, bristled facial hair that was chestnut in color. The other was clearly more juvenile, with an able-bodied countenance and lengthier hair, undistorted and falling down to his shoulders casually. It was the color of a crow's feather. His face looked clean and smooth like baby's skin. Their clothing was not the best. The older of the criminalistic duo wore beige khakis with a short-sleeved burgundy shirt and a thick dull orange coat. It was an unusual matchup of colors in Latana's eyes. The younger one wore mostly black, wearing a well-fitted black speckled t-shirt and black ripped jeans. The only thing that wasn't black were his liberty blue sneakers.
The fact that these two men would prey on an innocent woman who they easily overpowered made her blood boil. Upon setting her eyes on the faces of these two cold, heartless men, she was filled with an inconceivable rage. How dare they take the purse of a woman?! They had no remorse and left the woman in a corner, crying. These pigs were sexist and chauvinistic, the worst human trash.
Her beastly rage took over. She growled loudly and lunged at them, roundhouse kicking the younger man in the face. Because he was standing right next to his accomplice, both of them fell. The smaller man had a large ugly bruise on his face because of how swiftly and forcefully Latana kicked him in the face with her stilettos. The otherwise uninjured taller man scowled at the athletic and fancily dressed Argentinian and pulled a knife from his coat pocket. He ran at Latana and tried to stab her, attempting to wound her in a straightforward manner, but she due to her great past experience as an extremely high leveled gymnast, was too fast. She moved his hand quickly, used her powers, and as a result the weapon exploded. The impact blew off his hand and the debris wounded multiple areas in his arm. He fell and briefly cried out in pain, holding his arm as his blood dropped to the floor. His face was painted with disbelieving horror, seeing his grotesque, fleshy stump of a hand. Latana kicked his body away as both men now laid in pain.
She grabbed the beautiful lilac satchel, decorated with silvertone hardware and glamorous asymmetrical zip pockets, and walked away from the two, satisfied with how she handled it. Her dress did not have a speck of blood or other stains on it. Her heels were in perfect shape, even after kicking one of the burglars to his face in an advanced and complicated fashion that a normal person would not be able to do. Her clutch was still secured on her wrist, and not even her glasses fell off or were bent out of shape in any way.
It only took Latana a minute to walk back to the woman, who was now standing on the sidewalk outside that alleyway. Latana gave the woman her purse, who accepted it with a smile and peeked into it to check if all her belongings were in there. They were.
The woman took out her phone, an iPhone with a warm bronze colored exterior. The exterior was clean and shone like the sun in all of its brilliance. The phone had not one scratch on it. "Thank you," she said in a timeless whisper. Her voice was soft, and her gentle words of gratitude were sweeter than flowers swaying in the springtime.
Latana gave a noble nod and walked away from the sight, heading back to her own home, a magnificent mansion located in a more spacious area of New York. Her spirits were now uplifted, feeling like she could take flight and lift herself into the sky without a single worry or care, seeing what she could do to help the common person.
Please review if you liked this chapter, disliked it, or just want to leave some constructive criticism! I'd appreciate any constructive comments I can get for this chapter, as I'll use any advice for the upcoming ones as well.