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Post by dunno on Sept 23, 2009 18:02:23 GMT -5
`I can't find the words to speak... The hall was quiet as Kris made his way down it. He was outside the classrooms he spent most of his day in, the ones geared toward the traditional media students. His footsteps echoed in the hall and the blond couldn’t help but smile a little. It showed him just how alone he was in that hall. Stumbling slightly as he came to a stop, the teen took a moment to make sure he wouldn’t fall over before he sat down. Immediately, he pulled out his iPod and turned it on, drowning himself in his music before he pulled out one of his multiple sketchbooks and opened it to a blank page.
After making sure the sketchbook was placed well on his lap so it wouldn’t tip or slide, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a small, clear crayon box like they require kids to have in a lot of public elementary schools. He’d stolen it from his brother since Scott didn’t need it anymore. He kept his colored pencils and a pencil sharpener in it, along with a couple cotton balls that could be used to blend colors on the paper. He hardly ever went anywhere without some sort of art media in his bag or in his hoodie pockets. If he wasn’t carrying a sketchbook in his hands, it was in his bag. His mother started calling it his security blanket, because he’d use his drawing as a way to tune out the rest of the world.
His eyes flickered across the page a few times as he planned out just what he was going to draw before he actually got started. Humming to himself, he let the world fall away as was usual to him. He was drawing from memory, a scene from a happier time with his family. No matter what happened, his mother had always made sure they’d had a good Christmas together, and that was what he was drawing; him, his brother, and his mother sitting in front of a fireplace. A small smile tugged on his lips still as he worked. He honestly missed his little brother and wished he knew where the booger went. Part of him wondered if he’d ever hear from Scott again, but he hoped so.
Sighing softly, Kris stopped thinking about his family and just continued drawing; but, it ended up being something different than he’d planned. With a furrowed brow he found himself looking down at a sketch of his empty room. He found it really strange that he’d not been aware of what he’d been working on; but, then it wasn’t the first time it’d happened. Sometimes, if he focused on something other than what he was working, it was as if his hand took on a mind of its own and drew something completely different. It was then that the teen looked up and saw that he wasn’t alone in the hall anymore. He jumped slightly and dropped his pencil in surprise before slowly reaching up and taking out his earphones, as usual, not saying a thing to the other person. *** open;;tag 518;;word count uhm... yea, i dunno... started this last night, found the open tab and was like... hmm let's finish this.... ;;comments
*Graphic and layout (c)Alice*[/i][/size] [/right]
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Post by ophelia van maanen on Sept 24, 2009 21:57:47 GMT -5
SHE'S AN OLD TIME AMBASSADOR OF SWEET TALKING , NIGHT WALKING GAMES [/color] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[/size][/center] Lunch was, to sum it up in a simple phrase, utter crap. Ophelia's general pickiness about most everything seemed to apply to food as well; breezily shoving the half-eaten food packages into a nearby trash can, she stood from the table, smoothing down her outfit to get rid of any crumbs that may have flown onto her shirt during her half-assed meal. After accessing there were none, she picked up her tote bag, slung it over her shoulder, and strode out of the cafeteria, her frosty brown eyes traveling over the room. The many different cliques were seated around the lunchroom, and though Ophelia was of several of them, she had chosen to lunch by herself today. She spent that free time inspecting the students at Robbins, her cold gaze scrutinizing them. Many had earned a dismissive eye roll, yet there were about a handful of students that looked fairly interesting. A devilish smile spread onto her face - her trademark appearance - as she thought of the students she'd love to play her evil games with.
She went up the large staircase in the foyer and came to the level one hallway. She had never been down here before, having only arrived at Robbin's recently and because her main classes were on the third floor. Her eyes swept over the painted masterpieces which adorned the shelves and the various trophies which gleamed in a nearby showcase. For a split second, she imagined herself obtaining one of those trophies, after creating a fabulous new design to adorn someone's high-class mansion. She was jerked out of her momentary daydream when she saw another student; a junior, actually, who was sitting in one of the nearby classes, intently sketching away. That fiendish smile appeared once more on her face; her eyes glittered with malevolent interest. She reached out a hand and gave two sharp raps on the door, a smile which exuded sugar-sweet cheeriness pasted onto her face. Her perky demeanor seemed completely genuine to anyone except for herself. "Well, hello, there!" She chirped to Kris, breezing into the room and standing near the desk where he was drawing upon. "What'cha doing?" Her crisp, European accent flowed out from shining bright teeth as she smiled down at him. But behind her smile, there was only one thought going through her mind: This is going to be fun.
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[/size][/center] notes ?! blah. a bit short, but oh well. sorry that kris has to face ophelia. xD; words ?! 390 tags ?! kris/open clothes ?! click here mood ?! vindictively eager lyrics ?! 'queen bitch' - david bowie credit ?! you're looking at her
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Post by dunno on Sept 25, 2009 13:36:32 GMT -5
`I can't find the words to speak... When this girl that Kris didn’t know walked closer to him, he tensed up immediately. He slowly picked up his pencil, clenching it nervously in his hands as he just sat there, not answering her question right away. “Drawing,” he answered simply, blinking slowly as he sat there. The entire time, he kept hoping she’d just go away and leave him alone. He really didn’t want to have to deal with being around someone he didn’t know. It never ended up well for him. He studied the girl standing there, not finding her familiar at all, which of course, made it all the worse for him. She had some kind of an accent; but, the blond couldn’t really put a pin on what it was. He didn’t really care though. The only thing he honestly cared about at that moment was that he was no longer alone. His main purpose for being there was to escape people. Nobody was ever there at that time. Why was she? The only reason Kris was even slightly curious as to why she was there was because he wanted to know why someone could possibly be there during one of the few times during the day he found he could escape from the mass of people that made him feel near panic attack at times.
The silent teen bit his lower lip lightly, as he tried to force his mind to think of something to say. But he didn’t really want to say anything, anyway. No, he just wanted to be able to go back to drawing while being alone. Yet, the blond had a feeling it wouldn’t be that simple. Things were never that simple, ever. He covered his sketchbook a little on reflex. He honestly never minded if anyone saw his work; but, it gave him something to do with his hands besides just messing with the pencil he’d been using.
He stopped biting his lip when it hurt slightly before clearing his throat and sliding his hands back, looking down at his sketchbook. He turned the page to a blank one and started sketching again, trying to ignore the girl’s presence. Maybe she’d leave him be if he just ignored her. Hopefully… Or it could just piss her off. That thought made Kris flinch a little. He really hated when people got mad at him. It was part of the reason he wasn’t so good with people. He was constantly worrying about doing or saying the wrong thing. So, as kind of an effort to not piss her off, he glanced back up at her before focusing on what he was doing. Maybe, he thought, if he acknowledged that she was still there, she’d not get upset that he was working instead of focusing on her. It was a little easier for him to be around others if he had something to distract himself with. *** ophelia/open;;tag 484;;word count XD ;;comments
*Graphic and layout (c)Alice* [/i][/size] [/right]
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Post by ophelia van maanen on Sept 30, 2009 19:12:54 GMT -5
SHE'S AN OLD TIME AMBASSADOR OF SWEET TALKING , NIGHT WALKING GAMES [/color] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[/size][/center] For a slight moment, Ophelia was suddenly thrown off guard by Kris's silence. Her brown eyes then narrowed into sharp lines of irritation. What was this boy playing at here? Three different scenarios came into her mind: 1) the boy was ignoring her on purpose, playing out the 'total jerk' act; 2) it was that completely outdated 'hard-to-get' flirting technique or 3) he was just utterly shy, which clashed with Ophelia's headstrong personality. Either way, he was not making things easy for her; but Ophelia had never planned to make things easy for him, either. And anyway, she was used to overcoming unexpected obstacles; her whole life had been full of them, and it was rather second nature to her getting through them. Compared to being forced to leave her homeland and cross the Atlantic to some god-forsaken art school she'd never heard of before, getting Kris to utter more than one-word sentences was laughably easy. Reformulating her original plan in her mind, she seated herself perkily on the edge of his desk, just inches away from his drawing.
"Well, I can see that," she replied to him, throwing in a couple of lighthearted chuckles for good measure. She then leaned forward slightly, her perfume drifting towards Kris, locks of her silky brown hair falling in front of his face. She peered down at the notepad, genuinely interested in seeing what he had drawn. "You major in drawing, right? Well, I mean, traditional media. Oh, hell, same thing. But seriously, you do right? I mean, it'd be a bit of a waste if you weren't. It seems like you're rather dedicated to it."
[/b] She shot him a flashing white smile, faintly wondering if he was starting to relax. The poor guy just seemed much too tense around strangers; Ophelia had heard of people like that, but she'd never actually met anyone with that much of an affliction to socializing. She was used to dealing with people who matched her fiery personality, someone who was an equal match for her and would give her a good fight. Although she was rather fond of using her womanly wiles to intimidate the weak, sometimes a good, hissy cat fight was just the thing to work her up and keep her wits about her. [/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[/size][/center] notes ?! you are really good at writing so much with so little dialogue xD words ?! 383 tags ?! kris/open clothes ?! clickeh mood ?! a bit nonplussed at first, but she's simmering down now lyrics ?! 'queen bitch' - david bowie credit ?! HAZE. who is I. xD
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Post by dunno on Sept 30, 2009 23:10:10 GMT -5
`I can't find the words to speak... Kris sighed inaudibly when she leaned a bit closer and absently shifted back in his seat a bit, slouching down slightly. She was getting a little too close for comfort. Kris had always been a hands-off person. It took a lot to get him comfortable enough for more than a handshake. It was harder to get him to be comfortable enough for contact than it was to get him to talk, which could be hard enough. He continued drawing the random scene that came to mind, which just so happened to be a large tree that sat outside his house, the branches close enough to his window that he could climb out and sneak out of the house that way. The blond nodded slightly when she asked about drawing being his major. It was usually an obvious thing since he always had a sketchbook and some sort of drawing media with him at all times. He nodded again when she stated that he seemed rather dedicated to his drawing.
That was just his slightly perfectionist side showing through. It didn’t matter how small a project was, or if he was just drawing for fun… it had to be as perfect as he could get it. Otherwise, he’d spend forever thinking about it until he went back and fixed it. At least, it had to be perfect by his standards. If it didn’t meet someone else’s, well then it just didn’t. His work was his own, and people could either like it or not. As long as he was happy with it, the rest of the world could piss off for all he cared.
Not letting his focus slip from what he was doing, he shifted uncomfortably while reaching up with one hand to scratch his forehead before letting his pencil move across the paper again. He was silently trying to figure out what she wanted as he worked. Because she was still there, so she wanted something; but, he had no idea what that would be. He guessed his best bet would be to do exactly what he’d been doing and just remain quiet, waiting to see what she did or say next. *** ophelia/open;;tag 363;;word count lol. thanks. XD i try. n ur charrie makes me smile for some reason lol;;comments
*Graphic and layout (c)Alice* [/i][/size] [/right]
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