⎛ DAY 1 ‖ 2/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 18TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ COPY ROOM ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ CONVERSATIONAL ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ %9 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ⎛ OOC ‖ SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY !! ⎠ ❝ＲＯＵＮＤ ＴＷＯ : ＳＴＡＲＴ ！！❞ Before Pierce could answer Sophie, the boy interjected and had them heading off. With that, she began to wonder what kind of person he was. there wasn't much serious talk on the trip down, but Sophie and Pierce caught up a little while following the boy and she realized she still didn't know his name, so she decided to talk to him a little, too. The copy room smelled just as any other would, and there was no real way to describe it, but Sophie liked the scent and scents similar to this one. She walked around the tall boy and remembered that he reminded her of someone . . . But she wasn't able to pin it. ❝So, I brought the first ticket sheet we used. I'll make copies and we'll dive the stack. Then it's cutting time and that'll basically be our day, Pierce.❞ She wondered if, since she had come along, he was expecting her to help. Sophie wouldn't mind that, but it didn't really seem like there was anything for her to do. In the pocket of her shorts, her phone vibrated and she pulled it out to see the contact name. Clicking her tongue in disgust, she slipped it back in. ❝You girls want anything? There's coffee in here, and probably some snacks.❞ ❝Mmm, that's okay. Thank you for the offer, . . .❞ Sophie purposefully trailed off, and then went on, ❝I don't believe I've gotten your name. Sophie, by the way.❞ she continued with a smile. If he replied, she barely heard him over the rushing sound of someone else coming into the room and she looked over her shoulder to see a slightly pink-in-the-face Richie. He smiled, obviously embarrassed, and walked over to the snacks counter to get a bit of food, and then turned to greet them. ❝Hey there everyone!❞ He mainly looked at her and she gave him an accommodating smile. Richie wasn't a person she would call a friend, but more of a . . . close acquaintance, which was, perhaps, two steps below friend. She had her personal, slightly silly reasons to keep her distance from him, and that started with the letter Q, for 'questionable taste in persons she was interested in'. It ended in N, for 'not in this lifetime because I don't share'. The coffee he was drinking must have been disgusting because the poor boy looked like he was going to spit it out, but he forced the swallow and made a face. He motioned to fix his drink. ❝Good afternoon, Richie,❞ she replied, ❝Did you give Quentin the climax lyrics so that he could check it with the song?❞ she asked, mostly on protocol. Sophie didn't completely trust him to get it right ( her perfectionist attitude at work ), and since she wasn't currently at the instruments herself, she wasn't able to check it. ❝I'm sorry, you're name . . . ?❞ Her question was directed at the boy again. In her pocket, the phone vibrated again and she fought the urge to sigh at it.
Yo, I think we'd all appreciate it if you let up on the angsty ******baggery. It was a mistake, those tend to happen, so there's no right reason for you to be an ass about it.
⎛ DAY 1 ‖ 2/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 18TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ TICKET BOOTH ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ FOCUSED / AMUSED ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ %12 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ⎛ OOC ‖ . . . ⎠ ❝ＲＯＵＮＤ ＴＷＯ : ＳＴＡＲＴ ！！❞ Sophie vaguely heard something come from the stage of the auditorium that was directed at her, but since she had completely ignored it ( though it was hilarious when people tried to be witty in her direction ), it was of no real importance. She focused now on Pierce and the boy she didn't recognized. ❝Oh! Sophie, hi!❞ It was nice that Pierce greeted her so cheerfully and carefree and Sophie decided not to mess with her at the moment, although teasing her a little in front of this boy would have been enjoyable. ❝We were actually just leaving. Going to the copy room. You, uh - you wanna come with?❞ She looked over at the boy and Sophie wondered what kind of person he was. He didn't seem dangerous, like the playboy type ( he did look the part, she had to admit ), so she wasn't so worried about Pierce being alone with him. Why it concerned her in the first place was a mystery, but people she was interested in were usually always worth looking after. ❝If you don't mind.❞ she responded without fault. ❝I need something to kill time while the music is being looked over. Whenever you both are read to leave, then. In any matter, how have you been, Pierce?❞
⎛ DAY 1 ‖ 1/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 18TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ AUDITORIUM / TICKET BOOTH ⎠⎛ MOOD ‖ FOCUSED / AMUSED ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 12% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠⎛ OOC ‖ PINK UNDERLINE MEANS "NEW"// MIGHT CHANGE BANNER LATER ⎠ ❝ＲＯＵＮＤ ＴＷＯ :ＳＴＡＲＴ ！！❞ With a yawn, Sophie watched everything go on in the auditorium as they had come to the near middle stages of completing their performance. An adaption of the rather famous book, The Girl in Watercolors, Sophie was expecting a great product of all their hard work. Time was passing in an unexpected speed, and it would only be a matter of time before the play was on real time, with an audience, but since everything seemed to be going smoothly, there wasn't much to be nervous about. The lyrics to the songs, the script and the entire score of the play ( courtesy of Sophie, and some assistance from Quentin ) were all done, which were the basis. The two leads, Maria and Torvald were doing . . . interestingly enough, but it provided much amusement for Sophie. It was safe to say that their two leads, ahaha, did not get along, but were able to cooperate with each other to a minimum of not strangling each other. With Torvald's love of the soapbox and Maria's love of being center stage . . . it wasn't difficult to tell that they were clashing white against black into a hard line. As Maria started into . . . not the script, Sophie laughed at tossed her head back, waiting until the girl was done to stand and give a clap of her hands a few times. ❝Wonderful improv, darlings,❞ she called and Bryan shushed her, but he was stifling a laugh, too. ❝. . . fuck up with that mouth of yours while it's still attached to your bloody neck . . .❞ The ever-obnoxious sound of Adrian's voice broke through and Sophie tuned it out as she had learned to over the last two years. It had been fun at first, but she had honestly thought he would learn. It was rare for her to be wrong about these sorts of things, but there was a first time for everything. His constant attitude -- emphasis on the word constant -- was boring to her now and she rarely spoke to him. ❝He is right, though!❞ Sophie called after Maria who stormed off the stage in a diva-like fashion. She smiled and then turned to talk with Quentin for a little while. Sophie thought that it was safe to say that the two of them were friends now and that he was past the stage where she would use him -- or at least, she hoped so. To be honest, she was scared as hell of him and the thoughts he provoked in her mind from time to time, and sometimes she hated him for it, but friends was what she would say they were right now. His crush on Noëlle definitely hadn't escaped her notice, but since she didn't want to own Quentin ( for once, maybe she just wanted to be on the same level ) yet, she couldn't do anything. She was a tad jealous, though, but maybe there wasn't much to worry about. . . . For now. ❝I'll be back,❞ Sophie stood from the long bench in front of the piano and straightened out the collar of the white shirt under her jacket. ❝Give the finale a check over again for me, I think there are a few stray harmonies somewhere. I trust your keen ear.❞ ❝Don't get lost.❞ She waved him off and headed out of the auditorium, looking for her favorite girl. Sophie and Pierce hadn't gotten too much closer since two years past, but they were definitely on a more comfortable level and she was sure Pierce didn't currently hate her, but she was a rather delicate person and one wrong push would probably have her hating Sophie faster than one of Iris' orgasms. Sophie walked without a falter in her step to the ticket booth where Pierce should be. Maybe alone? It had been a while since they sat down and had a good talk. She liked talking to Pierce, admittedly, she was interesting, shy, and cute. How fun! A knock on the door later, and she opened it to see Pierce and . . . another boy she vaguely recognized who she found attractive. She smiled, ❝Sorry, am I interrupting something?❞ she asked them, her smile coy. She hoped she wasn't. Last she checked, Pierce hadn't really taken an interest in any other boys . . . ❝I just stopped by to say hello to Pierce while my friend checks over my composition for the play.❞
Requesting Sophie for Musical composer I'll think of something for Bryan and Quentin, soon. Will edit.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ DAZED ✖ DAY 2 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/23/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ SHOP [/url]The ride had cleared her mind pretty much of all her troubling thoughts and made her feel tons better. She thought that if flying was like anything, it was something like riding a motorcycle. After parking it next to the shop, she got off of the bike and untied her school bag with her books and uniform in it with a sigh. A sort of warmth behind her sparked her attention and she spun around to see a blurry and light distorted world behind her. All she could make out was the figure of a man taller than her, with . . . something spread out from behind him. She couldn't make out what he looked like at all, but she could tell he was . . . beautiful. For a long moment, Hay Sun was breathless. ❝PURIEL,❞ came his strong voice, one that snapped her out of her daze, ❝IT IS TIME YOU REMEMBER.❞ He pointed at her, his finger almost touching her forehead, and her eyes glowed a bright white. A strong gust slammed into Hay Sun and she stumbled backwards, nearly crashing into her bike. A long minute later, she blinked and her breath and mind came back to her. She straightened herself out and clutched her back's strap. With a deep breath, she cleared her mind and grabbed her ground again. When the feeling passed, Hay Sun went through what just happened in her mind, calmly. A spell of being lightheaded was what she played it up to, and then with another deep breath, she walked into the shop, ignoring the customers and walking to the back of the shop. Her dad, as she passed him, gave him that look again, but neither of them sad anything and he continued to tend to their customers. She walked out of the back and past bookshelves making sure that everything was in order for the day. She came to the children's section which tended to be messy, and saw that there was a child reaching up to try and get a book. With a sigh, she walked over the the small boy and pulled down the book he was reaching for. He looked at her and she blinked. His eyes were . . . different, somehow. When she blinked again, they were normal and the boy said thank you and walked away. Hay Sun watched him walk off in a bit of a daze, remembering what happened earlier. She would need to write again in her journal, sooner than she thought.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 2 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/23/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ PARK [/url]Though school hours were still in, there was no way in hell that she was going back to school, and she didn't give a single damn if the headmaster was fed up with her or not. She was fed up with their shit, too. . . . But when she thought of Alicia, of Alice, Phoebe, and Alexander, her heart sank. It was safe to say that she didn't have many friends -- and there were absolutely no complaints about that, but even someone like Hay Sun got lonely sometimes. Even if she did skip out on school completely, she wouldn't become some shut in who did nothing all day, but her friends . . . Most of the time, she saw them only at school and when they liked to come visit her at the shop, and if she stopped going to school, the times she would see them would be cut in half. But Hay Sun had to ask herself: Were her friends worth going to school and putting up with other people's shit and getting the brunt of her actions? The answer wasn't one she wanted to think about -- but it was probably no. Her negative emotions on school aside, they would be worth it, but as the whole . . . After a little while of basking in the sun's warmth, the girl turned to the bag that was attached securely to the back of her motorcycle and rustled through it, moving her school books and other items until she came to a leather back journal with a string of silver and a single charm keeping it closed. Setting it down next to her, she grabbed a felt tip pen and settled against the trunk of a tree to begin writing. Spoiler: ✖ E X C L U S I V E _ T H O U G H T S When I was little, my mom used to tell me stories of magical creatures, like unicorns and phoenixes, about things like the Kraken, like Pegasus, and the mighty boar Gullenbursti. Things from mythology of all kinds, like the great Amaterasu. To me, those were all real things that were out there, in the sky, in the deep ocean, personifying the sun, the moon, the lighting during heavy rain. As of late, something a little different has been introduced in my thoughts more often than ever before. Angels. Supernatural beings that can take on human forms, found in various religions and beliefs. I'd never really thought about them before because Christianity and Judaism are relatively foreign to me, and the idea of some man named, purely named, 'God' who created the world with his oh-so-mighty hands leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I'm not sure why. It might be because so many bad things happen in this world, and there is no god to save the good people which the bad things happen to. Which brings me to a phrase Christians often say after someone or something has passed away: "They have gone on to a better place." They like to believe in God's great plan. Take murder, rape, or even a combination of the two -- were those in the great and caring God's great plan? That seems pretty shitty, to me. What to believe . . . Which is why I don't really believe in anything right now, or really care. Still, dreams to say something to me. What more could be out there that I don't know about, or that I couldn't possibly hope to comprehend? Maybe there's more than one deity. Next time. With a sigh, Hay Sun closed her journal, and stood up, stretching. There was still much more for her to think about with this subject, so many thoughts she wanted to get down on that paper, but the school bells had all rung by now, and she needed to get back to the shop, soon. She wondered if religion might actually be just one, giant divine prank, or some cosmic joke by the universe to get all sentient life forms jacked up on like a drug and on each other like rabid dogs. Some plan that would be. It made her think of her friend, Sophie. She could construct a plan like that, were she some sort of god created somehow by a wish. Hah. With the thoughts in mind, almost rampant, they were, Hay Sun boarded her bike and headed back to the shop.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ SIGH ✖ DAY 2 ※ 2/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/23/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ STREETS / PARK [/url]❝Miss White,❞ came the poignant, touchy voice of a teacher. It was the last period of the day, Hay Sun had almost made it! What the ****, man . . . she thought to herself, wrenching her neck to look over her shoulder at the door to see which teacher had come to escort her to the principal's office this time. The rest of the class was staring at Hay Sun, waiting for what she would do, but she didn't move, and instead gave the teacher a bored look, tinged with annoyance. ❝Yes, what is it?❞ she asked, and the teacher crossed her arms. ❝I'm not going to wait all day for you, Miss White.❞ she snapped, and Hay Sun sighed. She really didn't want to do this today. ❝I wasn't expecting you to.❞ she replied, rolling her eyes. ❝Miss White!❞ started the voice of her classroom teacher, ❝Disobedience will not be tolerated in this classroom -- now, Mrs. Baudin is waiting for you to comply, and I expect that you will because you do not want to have more on your plate than you already do!❞ She wasn't actually shouting, but Hay Sun felt like she was, and that made her forcefully stand up from her chair, making it fall backwards. The classroom collectively flinched, including the two teachers, but then another voice cut in, and Hay Sun turned violently on her heel to begin snapping. Things stopped when she saw who it was. ❝Mr. Deforest . . .❞ she murmured, looking at him with her glowering bright eyes. He made a motion for her to follow and she sighed, setting her desk and chair right, then grabbing her bag and calmly leaving the room. Out of her school uniform, Hay Sun rode her motorcycle throughout the streets, going at top speeds where she could to take her mind off things. Mr. Deforest . . . He was the only person in that whole school that actually scared her, and she didn't know why. Not only that, but he seemed to be able to calm her down in a way none of the other teachers or students were capable of. It really, you guessed it, pissed her off. But forget about that. Hay Sun was more focused on the weird dreams she had been having recently. They usually involved flying of some sort, weaving about the clouds, high and low, and then landing in front of a gate where she was supposed to meet someone, but could never remember who. Golden gates, what a laugh. She didn't believe in that kind of stuff. Hay Sun wasn't a religious person because no one had showed her any proof. Where was the proof? Even then, she would probably still not believe. Why would a god, who so much 'loved' his creations let them suffer? It seemed contradictory. As she made a sharp turn, Hay Sun wondered why a god would be like that. With a sigh, her motorcycle came to a halt next to a park, and she parked it, flopping down onto the green grass next to it, staring up into the sky. Spoiler: ✖ D A Y _ D R E A M I N G ❝PITIFUL.❞ came a strong male voice, and the above scene was a sea of white and creamy ethereal light. ❝WE SHALL CONDEMN THIS SOUL, DOKIEL.❞ After making his completely harsh judgment, the man pulled up his almost-glowing, long white hair with a thin, lace ribbon. ❝. . . PURIEL, DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THERE IS NO SANCTUARY FOR THIS MAN?❞ his partner and counterpart in looks asked, looking at him with a heavy stare. The one called Puriel turned on his heel and a cold look shot straight at Dokiel, who remained unfazed. ❝WE ARE ANGELS OF JUDGMENT, DOKIEL, AND WE ARE ALWAYS TO DO OUR JOB WITH HONOR AND DIGNITY. WE DO NOT MAKE MISTAKES, AND SO WHEN I SAY THERE IS NO HOPE FOR THIS MAN, IT MEANS THERE IS NO HOPE. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MORTAL WHO SOLD HIS FAMILY TO PAY OFF HIS SINFUL HABITS?❞ he explained harshly, ❝WHERE MERCY IS UNDESERVED, MERCY IS NOT SHOWN.❞ Dokiel gave a sigh, but then laughed, patting his partner on the shoulder. ❝YOU HAVE GROWN MORE COARSE, MY FRIEND.❞ ❝SOMEONE HAS TO BE HONEST, WHO WOULD RATHER BE LIED TO THAN TOLD THE TRUTH?❞ ❝YOU MIGHT BE SURPRISED AT MORTALS, THEN.❞ Dokiel said as the two left the room. Hay Sun opened her eyes, the sun beginning to sink below the clouds, creating a beautiful silver lining. She frowned at the thought of the dream and then all memories of it crumbled away.
❝Miss White,❞ came the poignant, touchy voice of a teacher. It was the last period of the day, Hay Sun had almost made it! What the ****, man . . . she thought to herself, wrenching her neck to look over her shoulder at the door to see which teacher had come to escort her to the principal's office this time.
◘ Ｉ ＷＯＮ'Ｔ ＬＩＧＨＴ ＴＨＥ ＦＩＲＥ， ＢＵＴ Ｉ ＷＩＬＬ ＮＵＲＴＵＲＥ ＴＨＥ ＦＬＡＭＥＳ ＯＦ ＲＥＢＥＬＬＩＯＮ ◘ It wasn't difficult to tell that the other students in gym were mostly avoiding the group that had ended up in the White Room, but it was irritating to know that they were talking behind their backs. Nix wasn't one to start fights, though, so he forced himself to take it in stride and ignore them. He had obviously judged the lot of the school wrong, and he felt silly for that. Laying on his stomach on one of the beams high in the ceiling, Nix gazed over the gym and saw the six faces he was looking for. They all seemed pretty out of it, but prolonged exposure to Rendium did that to you. Yesterday had definitely altered his views of some of them, but others . . . Not so much. He was growing particularly fond of Sparky and Anya, they just seemed bold as brass and were aggressive where he was passive. Things were normal, for now, but something was probably going to happen to them soon. Things were probably going to change, radically. Exciting and scary, when he thought about it. He watched a student be bumped into the ground by Anya and gave a tired smile as the reaction played out. He wondered how scared other students were of them; it wasn't really something he thought about, being able to see over everyone in the crowd. "Holson," called one of the coaches, and he leaned over the beam to see, "Get on down here, we're about to start!" He blinked and then sighed, not really willing to play today. His energy was only at half capacity. Oh well. Nix rolled over, going onto his back, but the beam was too thin for the movement. Just before he could be on his back, the beam disappeared from under him and he was falling. With another sigh, he adjusted his body and then landed, knees bend and feet slamming into the floor, causing an echo of the loud sound to ring throughout the room for several seconds. Nix straightened himself up and looked down to the now-cracked gym floor. "Oops." he let out nonchalantly, and then walked to another side of the gym, waiting for the game to start.
It wasn't difficult to tell that the other students in gym were mostly avoiding the group that had ended up in the White Room, but it was irritating to know that they were talking behind their backs. Nix wasn't one to start fights, though, so he forced himself to take it in stride and ignore them. He had obviously judged the lot of the school wrong, and he felt silly for that.
Laying on his stomach on one of the beams high in the ceiling, Nix gazed over the gym and saw the six faces he was looking for. They all seemed pretty out of it, but prolonged exposure to Rendium did that to you. Yesterday had definitely altered his views of some of them, but others . . . Not so much. He was growing particularly fond of Sparky and Anya, they just seemed bold as brass and were aggressive where he was passive.
Things were normal, for now, but something was probably going to happen to them soon. Things were probably going to change, radically. Exciting and scary, when he thought about it. He watched a student be bumped into the ground by Anya and gave a tired smile as the reaction played out. He wondered how scared other students were of them; it wasn't really something he thought about, being able to see over everyone in the crowd.
"Holson," called one of the coaches, and he leaned over the beam to see, "Get on down here, we're about to start!" He blinked and then sighed, not really willing to play today. His energy was only at half capacity. Oh well.
Nix rolled over, going onto his back, but the beam was too thin for the movement. Just before he could be on his back, the beam disappeared from under him and he was falling. With another sigh, he adjusted his body and then landed, knees bend and feet slamming into the floor, causing an echo of the loud sound to ring throughout the room for several seconds. Nix straightened himself up and looked down to the now-cracked gym floor.
Sufficed with five entries. Don't ask me why I ask for six. I just do. Anyway, poll's up. Vote away.
You should . . . color that.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ⌠ DAY 5 │ 3/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ JUNE 19TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ CAR / ACADEMY / HOME ⌡ ⌠ MOOD │ DISAPPOINTED ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ 39% = NOËLLE / 12% = SOPHIE ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC !! ⌡ ⌠ OOC │ . . . ⌡ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ Quentin was quiet for the drive to Candlewood and then to the academy. He would have taken a nap, but he couldn't get the image of the bodies of Stratana and the body builder out of his head. He saw it when he closed his eyes. The stress of his it wasn't good for him, so he sought outlets for his attention. Sophie's sleeping head on his shoulder was comforting, and cute for someone who was usually guarded. He played with her hair a bit until she murmured something, scaring him onto other things. At first he counted the heads of those leaving, but stopped when he got to Noëlle. He hadn't noticed before, but she was leaving too. With the counselor. I need to find out about his relationship to her sometime. He figured now was a good time as any, so he asked her for her contact info, which she scribbled down without paying much attention. He had to admit he was disappointed. He looked down at Sophie. She wasn't with anyone in particular. He was pleased by that. He spent the rest of the ride toggling between them, playing out imaginary conversations in his head. I would have liked to shown Noëlle my painting, eventually. He was still sour about losing the drawing. The driver announced that they had finally arrived at Fortissimo and Quentin struggled not to jump. He was in a hurry to get out of the car and into the open air. He and the other students scrambled out of the crowded vehicle. He took several deep breaths before looking around. The place was as he remembered it--large, majestic and almost Gothic in structure. A masterful work of masonry. He felt much safer here, but kind of weak for the loss of adrenaline. But by the by, his focus was on the payphones on campus. He ruffled his pockets and came up with one lonely quarter. His lucky one. I don't want to give you up . . . He stood for a moment and debated before he realized he could ask for one. He turned to Sophie after her call to see if she had any left. She handed him one. He thanked her profusely, and was about to turn away when he realized they didn't have each other's numbers or any means of contact. He exchanged information with her and set up some dates for later. Dates in his mind, anyway. He made the call to his parents and told them to pick him up as soon as possible. Once he was sure they were on the way, he handed the phone to the next person and waited. He hated waiting. It was a little more unnerving because he had to watch Noëlle hanging on that counselor's sleeve until they left, together. Though they hadn't talked much, he had grown very attached to her in a short amount of time and was even more inclined to get in touch with her than Sophie. Eventually his own ride came and he greeted his mother tiredly. He did fall asleep on the ride home, and woke up long enough to climb up to his room, empty his pockets on his dresser and get changed. What a week.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 1 ※ 5/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/22/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ TRAVERSÉE CIEL CAFÉ / HOME [/url]Tiredly, Hay Sun walked into Traversée Ciel Café and greeted what customers there were with as much cordiality as much cordiality as she could muster in her mood. She voided her father's knowing eyes, who was standing at the counter, tending to someone who was asking a question about a book and walked to the back of the shop, quickly changing back into her running clothes from that morning. She didn't plan to go running again, but she did want to be out of that damn uniform. She couldn't stand it. After sorting through arrived boxes in the back, she went up to the roof of the shop. The night was growing old, but wisps of sunset still sat in the sky, and she gazed at the crowd of light clouds that floated along peacefully. The serenity of everything up here brought her calmness like nothing else did anymore. As Hay Sun had grown older, her temper and anger grew harder to appease, but no matter how terrible it was, how angry she felt . . . Her mother had always been able to simply sing a few words to her and all the hot feelings would go away. Even her brother had some kind of aptitude for it. But not her father -- and she genuinely felt bad for that. She wanted him to be able to calm her down, but at least he was a strong man, and he could take her down if they both needed. She sighed at the thought, it making her feel depressed. In fact, her dad did have to take her down more than a few times in the past. She felt ashamed to admit it. Wiping away all the pitiful, pathetic feelings, Hay Sun stood up and stretched, her vivid eyes flashing down below. The two walked quietly into the house and settled in, going their separate ways. She wouldn't talk to her dad until tomorrow night, and he would do the same. It was a pretty terrible thing, but they weren't mad at each other. He was just . . . disappointed in her. And she didn't like talking to him when she saw that look in his eye. It made her feel worlds of bad. She quietly walked up the stairs to her room and shut the door behind her, setting all of her school stuff and headphones down, flopping on her bed. She didn't feel like taking a shower tonight. Tomorrow, before she went for a ran. Taking off her shoes, Hay Sun rolled onto her back and wondered if it would be good for her to stay here, forever. She would have to leave some day, right? Would her dad cared if she left? He would. She knew he would. But maybe it would be better for the both of them. With a sigh, she dozed off.
⎛ DAY 5 ‖ 3/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ JUNE 19TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ FORTISSIMO ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ TIRED ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ .008% = QUENTIN ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ⎛ OOC ‖ I HAVE A BAD FEELING. ⎠ ❝ . . . ❞ The truck ride back had been quiet. Things had happened all at such . . . a fast pace, Sophie didn't have the desire to keep up with them, and she really didn't care. The quiet of the ride had been welcoming, really, and since it had taken a while, she dozed off, her head lying on Quentin's shoulder. When she woke up, Julius was telling them that they were here. Disoriented as she was, Sophie couldn't wrap her mind around it at first. We're they really back at the school, after the last four days of somewhat enjoyable hell? When she got out, she took in the sight of the school looming over them and tiredly smiled. It was nice to see it again. Now, to get home. Sophie looked around the parking lot, expecting to see her car, but then she remembered it was parked in the lot of the ferry terminal. Damn. She was definitely not going to call her parents to come pick her up -- they probably wouldn't anyway. She thought about it for a little while and . . . Oh. I can call Iris. She reached into her bag and dug around the dried up container to fish out three quarters and a dime. Her phone had been lost to the ferry waters, but after she looked around some more, she spotted three pay phones, and tiredly ambled over to one of them, inserting a quarter into it and dialing her friend's number. It rang for several long seconds, and for a moment, Sophie thought Iris wouldn't pick up. "Hello?" came a bright, slightly tired voice. "Iris." "Sophie!" the girl squealed with delight, and she pulled the phone away from her ear, rubbing at it, "You're alive! When I heard about all the terrible things at camp, I - agh! I'm just so glad to hear you're alright!" She sighed and smoothed out her expression. "Iris, I need you to come pick me up, I'm in the Fortissimo parking lot, and my car isn't with me." She sounded tired. "I want to go home . . ." ☁ ☁ ☁ She had barely bid goodbye to the others. The most she had talked was to Quentin, and that was to set up times to meet for more conversations over coffee or sweets. He was rather interesting, and she wanted to get to know more about him. She had said goodbye to Pierce, hoping to see her around again, soon. Iris chattered incessantly on the ride back to Sophie's home, but at least her voice was smooth and peaceful, and it lulled Sophie off to sleep. Some time later, they arrived at Sophie's home and she stepped out of Iris' car, the girl coming to stand beside her. "Mother and father aren't home, are they?" she asked, looking at some of the lit windows. "Just and you and I for tonight, Soph." the white-haired girl replied, and they both walked into the house. Home, at last.
Jayn, baby. When I told you to drink for me too, ahaha, this isn't exactly what I meant. Remember what I told you. Don't walk down any dark alleys. EDIT: I love you, too. Don't stop believing.
School House Rock, talk about a blast from the past. I don't remember when, but it was probably around first grade/second grade that I saw this. Apparently, my mom grew up with it and thought it would be good for me, so she bought me three VHS of it: Math Rock, Grammar Rock, and American Rock. I think American Rock was my favorite, and I used to watch them all the time because I liked the songs, even though I didn't really understand what they were saying. They pretty much thrust me into the next to grades, and with no problem because they were so fun! Eventually, my old VCR broke and we boxed up the old VHS, and in the next couple of years, my mom found the special edition DVD that had the whole series in it. It surprised me how much my high school teachers liked to use these videos, and it was always a little cool for me because I'd be the only one singing along because no one else knew the videos. I still like to watch them every now and again.
I pick door #2. Because who doesn't love unwinnable fights and getting blasted with curse lasers?
I'm visualizing KHV-tan leaning over me with a flushed face and -- . . . Hmm. KHV-tan. Why isn't this a thing yet? Can someone draw this?
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ⌠ DAY 5 │ 2/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ JUNE 19TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ STATION ⌡ ⌠ MOOD │ . . . ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ 39% = NOËLLE / 11% = SOPHIE ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC !! ⌡ ⌠ OOC │ . . . ⌡ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ Quentin enjoyed his conversation. Sophie seemed to enjoy it as well. Sophie revealed a bit of herself when the shy girl joined them. She said that she enjoyed others' discomfort. I see. He was enjoying their conversation right up until it was interrupted by wailing. Tch. Can we get no peace? He turned toward the source of the commotion with the others. "Oh . . . my GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHD!" It was Stratana. She seemed to be coughing up blood. He thought she was being over dramatic until she collapsed, along with two others, including the jock who stole her bag. He twitched and covered his ears as if it would help. All that he could think about was the scene with the bag on the bus, superimposed onto the collapsed figures. It feels like ages ago. He didn't know them personally, but the deaths were starting to get to him. He was already assuming that the three were dead. Maybe it was seeing things happen in front of him. He started to wonder just how lucky he was. Whatever the cause, he was dazed until a word triggered him. ". . . 9-1-1 . . ." His head turned toward the phrase, but he couldn't pinpoint the source. . . . Police? He shook himself, trying to focus. Didn't we steal a truck and leave a guy for dead back there? He got the distinct feeling that calling them as a bad move. More than anything, he did not want to get sidetracked again. I should leave. He caught something out of the corner of his eye. It was Sophie. She was already moving toward the door. He stumbled after her, gaining focus and speed with each step. How does she keep calm? When he made it out, there was already another bit of excitement. One of the counselors was chewing out a fat kid who he had apparently thrown to the ground. "What is going on?" Some red headed kid started barking out orders. Tucker showed up and told everyone to ignore him. Quentin had no trouble -- the kid was annoying more than anything. Everyone seemed to be freaking out by now. He wasn't sure if anyone had called 9-1-1 yet, but he wasn't eager to find out. "I just want to leave . . ." Sophie glanced at Quentin and almost looked sympathetic.
_ B U M P Yo, if I don't get at least six entries by tomorrow night, then I'm going to have to cancel the round. I really don't want to do that because c'mon. Thank you to LARiA and cloud<3 for entering, by the way.
