Prom Week discussion
The School
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Gallery
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It tended to work that way. All Popular's knew each other, but could never seem to remember their Freshman Bio partner because she was a little on the nerdy side. Or maybe she was just quiet... either way, she wasn't worth their time. That quality was one all bitches had, no matter where you went. They had a special way of conveying to you the strong implication of; you're not worth my time. Funny thing was, they didn't even have to try very hard--you got the message.
Beck had just gotten that message, hence why he was here in the Gallery, seeking solemn from the noisy cafeteria. He'd run into some guy, smashing the opposing students lunch into their new shirt... oops. It could have been easy--the way out of that situation, but that just wasn't the way Beckett played. The fact that Beck had refused to apologize is what set the popular little jock boy off. Oh well... doesn't matter.
Kyle sat in the corner of the gallery, her sketch book balanced against her knees as she tried to replicate one of the drawings on the wall, as it was her current art assignment. To be able to fully replicate the artwork of another, as then you will be open to your own style of artwork and learn the style of another. What it really made Kyle think Or, we could be so good at it we could duplicate a famous painting then sell it to some idiot on the black market. Yeah, she had connections to that place as well. She needed to if she was going to be supplied with some of the most expensive art supplies for less than half of their worth. And no, the supplies she got were not fakes. Kyle knew how to get the real thing. Don't question her methods. She would pounce on the person who dared to question her. Ever.
Jolie quietly found herself slipping into the gallery. She wasn’t really carrying anything around but a few books. She liked to do homework here sometimes if there were too many people in the library or milling about. She was oblivious to Kyle’s presence as she sat herself down onto the ground, back against the wall as one ear bud hung out of her ear. Her music was the only thing really distracting her really. Flipping open a book she rested herself rather comfortably for being on the floor. She sat between a few of the paintings so as not to disturb anyone coming to look at the art above her head. She tossed hair away from her face and behind her ear as her eyes read over each page relatively swift.
Kyle heard soft, light foot steps against the hard floor as she was half way through her sketch. Kyle didn't even need to look up to see who it was, as she recognized the sound of those footsteps, as they hit the floor lightly trying to pass by unnoticed. Unfortunately for Jolie that would never happen if Kyle was near. Kyle found herself filling with immediate anger and jealousy. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into the skin of her palms and her knuckles white. Her calm self from only a moment before had completely vanished and now her only thoughts were on Jolie and how to get rid of her. Kyle rested her sketch book against her bare legs and started to go through her bag for something to throw at Jolie. Yes, it was petty but Kyle's anger clouded her mind from any rational thinking. Kyle smiled as she found her bag of marbles in the corner of her bag. She kept them, why she had no idea. Kyle simply liked to keep marbles in her bag but her moment to use them had arrived. Pulling out a larger marble she aimed for Jolie's head, who had still not noticed her. One, two, three! She released and the marble went sailing, hitting the side of Jolie's head with a thud.
Jolie’s lips parted, “Ow!” she piped, her book dropping shut as she jerked away from the hard object that dribbled across the floor, clattering back against the wall and rolling a tad back and forth. Jolie pressed her hand to the side of her head and pushed her book off of her lap, letting it fall where it may amongst her other belongings. She didn’t need to look up anymore than her sister did to know that it was Kyle who had thrown the marble at her, with force she may add rather sickly. The light throbbing of her skull felt like huge rattles with her oncoming headache, that same one that seemed to be around whenever Kyle was. It was like she couldn’t get around school anymore with bumping into her, it was a nightmare sometimes! All right … most of the time. Jolie peered up anyway, blowing hair out of her face and pressing her lips together, she grabbed the marble from the floor, causing her to remove her hand away from her head. Getting to her feet she tossed the marble into the trash can with a quite set jaw, eyes locked with frustration on her sister. “Not now Kyle, just leave me alone.”
Kyle smiled as her marble hit her target beautifully, creating the intended reaction she wanted. Well not exactly, blood would have been nice as well but she could live with this. And if she got bored again, there were many more marbles in her bag. She watched Jolie with please as her hand went to her head, then to the marble which went into the near by trash can. That caused her to frown a bit. Kyle would have liked to keep that as some sort of trophy. Oh well. She had plenty other trophies for keeps. But Jolie held the biggest prize. Alec. And she didn't deserve him. No, not at all. Alec was meant to be hers and hers alone. It was not fair at all. How could Alec pick Jolie over her? She was so much more than her older sister. So much more. What did Jolie possess that she didn't? What had Jolie done to Alec that he had chosen her? Those thoughts filled her again with anger. But, as her rage filled eyes met her sister's frustrated ones they changed to be filled with a sort of angry pleasure. She smiled sweetly at Jolie. "Why, sister dear. If not now, then when?" She said, her voice sounding as sweet as honey though for those who knew they could taste the poison it contained.
Jolie clenched her teeth together as he muscles tightened. She hated being around Kyle, she wasn’t her sister anymore, instead she was rude, and sickly sweet in a way that made her stomach ache. Plus, as exhibited, she threw things at her and fairly hard too. Though her head still hurt she wouldn’t give Kyle the pleasure of knowing and didn’t dare move her hand to hold it. “How about just in general, hm? That would be quite nice considering I’m not the one that did anything to you.” She spat sourly, hands resting on her hips, trying to relax her small hands, which were fisted out of her own anger. Why wouldn’t she just leave her alone? Why did Kyle decide to just decide that Jolie was the bad guy? She was the one that freaking slept with Alec! If anything Jolie viewed herself the victim. That headache was still coming on and it felt worse than ever right in this moment thinking about previous events. Her eyes peered over her shoulder despite herself, the exit, but she didn’t move.
Noticing how Jolie tensed and her jaw clenching gave Kyle even more pleasure, making her feel victorious over her sister. Kyle noticed how Jolie's hand had twitched a bit as if she wanted to put it to her head. That movement as well gave Kyle more satisfaction. The fact that Jolie was trying to be strong in front of her or maybe not wanting to give her anymore pleasure than she felt only made Kyle want to laugh. Oh, her poor sister. So stupid. Yet another reason that Alec shouldn't belong with her. "You've done a lot more than you know, Sister Dear. Perhaps you should open your eyes and look at your mistakes." Her tone not changing from the venomous sweet tone. But inside her anger was raging and she was ready to pounce upon her sister. Jolie thought she was so perfect and innocent and somehow she had gotten Alec to believe that as well. But it was all a carefully woven lie and Alec had ended in the middle of it. Don't worry, Alec. I'll save you from the b!tch.
Jolie narrowed her eyes a bit and her fists only grew deeper, nails digging into her palms, if Kyle kept this up she may as well have drawn blood by now. "You only tell yourself that, Kyle." She growled, "It makes you feel better because you know that he's never going to love you that way." She spat. Then again Kyle did hold that night over her very well, like she was a dangling puppet, nothing but a stupid girl on a pair of strings. After all it wasn't something you just forgot about, or something so casual, every time the reality of it hit her she felt this venomous feeling squeeze her lungs closed and she just didn't want to talk anymore. She'd heard the story before from Alec, when she had tears running down her face and she was backing away from him. And she didn't care to ever hear such a terrible thing ever again, even his I'm Sorry's sometimes made her want to leave. But even if she didn't deserve him neither did Kyle.
"Liar." Kyle spat out, her sickly sweet tone gone and replaced by venom. She stood up and took a step towards Jolie as if she were to attack her, her sketch book falling to the ground with a thud in the process. "We both know who the better one is here. You don't deserve him." She said, anger surging through her veins as she took another forceful step towards Jolie. "You can say and think what you want but Alec is mine." She said through gritted teeth trying to keep herself from screaming and pouncing on Jolie. Kyle picked up her sketch book and bag and started to make her way to the door, not before shoving Jolie to the ground with such force she was sure the impact would leave bruises, which made her smile just a bit.
Jolie took a few steps backwards, toes curling and now her fingers moving in and out of fists. It wasn't that she was exactly fearful of her sister she just ... Well maybe a little, she was nearly certain that those rumors about her wanting to kill her were true, especially considering how much Alec meant to them both - in two very different ways of course. She squeaked as she feel to the floor, stumbling down to her butt and back. Her body hurt as of now, arms, head, and butt now, just wonderful. She turned over onto her knees with a sigh, pushing herself up to her feet and dusting off. She quickly went over to round up her stuff and exited, books tucked against her chest as she looked quite small now, leaving in the opposite direction.
@Rose Desmond slunk through the threshold into the gallery, eyes barley bothering to flicker left or right and admire even a single snippet of a trophy, an award, or a painting. He found little point in the displays, they were all promoting how great it was to be a popular bitch at this mental school. His hands were half hidden in his jean pockets, thumbs sticking out as he had his eyes somewhere else. Funny enough Des had found himself not even halfway across the room as the incident that sent a jock reeling happened. Desmond knew Beckett, not personally but by name and he may have a class with him, that is also something he doesn’t bother himself with, classes. But nonetheless the guy deserves his own award -- titled Doesn’t even give a fuck. -- slamming that jock in the chest the way he did. Even with it being an accident it was easily an award winner to all the people that mattered here. “How much do you bet one of them will come after you in a bit?” he asked coolly as he approached, he tilted slightly towards the floor, bright blue eyes staring through his lashes with a small tilt of his lips. (One of them meaning a jock :p).
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((I thought you might get confused >< Um, well you'd said that Beck had run into some jock, Desmond's just admiring him for being so resistant in refusing to say sorry to sum it up))
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Beck's lip twitched, the smallest hint of his smirk pulling through with the impulse. "Doesn't really matter, I guess." he remarked, dropping his shoulders in a shrug as his eyes continued to drift over the displays. "I can't stop it, so why worry about?" he looked at Desmond, this time grinning. "Not that I'm worried about it. If I can manage to ploy it into a one on one I'll kick ass. If I get gang raped..." he shrugged, amused by the gang part only because it was so true.
The Popular boys were so intelligent and such bad asses... yet none of them could seem to take care of their own fights started by their own idiocy. Instead, they turned the odds in their favor in an incredibly display of brutality.
"Why are you so interested?"
((Glad to know I make sense XD)) Desmond’s lips pulled into a curling smile at the edges, answering with his own shrug, eyes drifting away for the briefest of moments, then back again. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t be interested, it was priceless to see the boys face.” His laugh was quiet and short, his back shifting upward slightly as his head also lifted, nearly giving the eerie boy a lighter air – nearly. “Besides,” those blue eyes shone sideways at Beckett. “You don’t seem to mind my noticing; in fact I dare say you’re glad I did notice.” His voice slid around, controlled with slightly moving lips, unexaggerated and observant. He had to admit though, he was observing, as he always was. Not the awards or whatever lie behind them on the walls but the expressions taken to Beckett as he spoke.
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The reason he had inquired about Desmond's interest was because he wanted to know why he had come out here. They weren't that good of friends... Desmond obviously wouldn't follow him all the way here from the Cafeteria just to congratulate him... So, what did he want? Everyone had motivations, be they good or bad, they were always present.
"Everyone has their opinion." he responded, not engaging in the possible argument. Beckett wasn't going to ask again, he figured the longer they stood there, what Des really wanted would come to light if he wanted it enough.
Desmond stood there a minute, eyes finding the question in Beck’s rather easily, goodness this boy really wasn’t a very good closed book attempt now was he? He cocked his head to the side, “I didn’t come here to find you if that’s what you’re wondering.” He cleared the wondering away with observant eyes that moved past Beckett’s shoulder to the door far down the hallway. “I came here more than likely for the same reasons as you,” a smirk though flickered on the edge of his lips with a huff of laughter in the back of his throat. “Not to mention that this is my shortcut outside.” He added. For the first time the blonde took the awards glassed up in their cages into his mind for fascination. He blinked slowly before taking a small step forward, one strangely tan arm lifting to touch the case with his finger tips. “Awards are so pointless.” He deviated.
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Desmond dropped his fingers away from the glass and took a step back. "Obviously." He agreed, blinking blindly at the awards and what they represented. He truly did think that awards meant nothing, even if they were giving them out to people like Beckett and him - which was a yeah right situation. "You know I wonder what exactly they feel separated us from them." He said without noticing Beck's seeming disinterest. "I've considered it would be money, but that may not always be the case." Desmond blabbered on solemnly, head tipping from one shoulder to the other, inwardly humming to himself in thought.
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Maybe even the teachers wanted to be apart of the social system, launching themselves at the ground the Populars walked on, just to be liked. But were they even liked? People who worshiped the Populars were just that... worshipers. No one really like them, the Populars certainly didn't. But it was better to disliked then outright hated, apparently.
Desmond couldn't help but feel triumph sparking a flame of interest from Beckett and half a smirk fluttered around his pale pink lips. "Ah, both, maybe? To me it's more what makes the populars so... Popular here at Salem?" He wondered, crossing arms over his chest and closing his eyes. "As many of us as there are them we could easy suppress them - yet, here we stand, loathing." This is the most he'd talked all at once all day to be wholly honest and he popped his eyes open with, one eyebrow lifted over the other.
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A little smile popped onto Desmond's face, suddenly amused he looked over at Beckett, eyes literally glinting. "The idea of hate - oh the irony of being a hater." Why he found this idea so delightful there was no apparent reason, in only appealed to him - Des and his strange sense of humor. "Oh but we're all the same in the end I suppose - kind of." He said.
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Desmond was quiet, taking in the new view of his 'big questions' into consideration. "Hmm, interesting." He said light, undissmisive ever though he looked down the hall towards the exit. He wanted to be outside, where he thought and experimented best. "I may find myself talking to you again Beckett." He added, looking at the bit now, head tilting back down into that position of .... Well, who knows what to call it. Moving past Beck he faded his fingers against his jeans. "Don't mind my leave." And that was that.
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One side shows all of the awards and trophies Salem kids have gotten in the past.
The other side is the Art and creations of those here at Salem.