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Sᴀᴅɪʏᴀ
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Mar 18, 2013 03:33PM
Because it's different from the fields and people hang out here more, well non jock people at least.
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Felicity made her way under the bleachers after the school day was over. She was extremely tired and didn't have the energy to go anywhere else. She always suffered from sleepless nights when she had to sleep in the park. The benches were uncomfortable as ever and Felicity had been stupid to lay down on a bench that had been made from metal. Felicity was counting herself lucky that she hadn't gotten sick. Unless she wasn't developing a fever right now. Which was probably the case, she was starting to feel really warm. But a cold and hard bench wasn't the only thing that had caused her sleepless nights. When Felicity would have drifted off to sleep, she had a nightmare that would wake her within minutes and then there would be that one unfortunate time when the nightmare would drag on for hours. It was always the same night mare, which perhaps made it worse. As always it had to do with Allen. He would appear out of no where and drag her home by her hair. Then he would discover her journal and burn it along with everything else left to her from her parents. Then there would be a terrible beating and he would lock her into the basement where she would be left to die. Usually she woke up by the part where he came and started to drag her away. But last night, after she had take her journal back from Court it had been the full nightmare. As a result, in the past few days, Felicity had slept a few hours.
Felicity laid down on her back. The cool feeling of the grass, or fake grass, was welcome against her burning bare back. Yes, Felicity was developing a fever the first in years. It didn't make sense because these kind of nights happened many times before and she had been perfectly fine. What was different this time? She could only think of one answer. And that was Court. Had he gotten her mono or something?
Elaine paused, rifling through her backpack to find her sunglasses. Ah, there they are. She carefully slipped them on in a very well-practiced motion, and continued walking after re-fastening the zipper on her bag. She began her walk to her car, which was parked around the corner in a nearby mall parking lot -- since the school's own parking lot was reserved only for juniors and seniors, she couldn't park on it, seeing as she was only a sophomore.
She glanced around a little bit as she walked, her old -- but still in good condition -- Ray-Bans protecting her eyes from the bright sunlight. Her eyes landed on the spot below the bleachers -- it wasn't necesarily surprising to see someone there, but it was to see a Popular -- Felicity Jethro of all people -- lying there in the shade, looking positively sick. She had a quick inner battle -- this was one of the people who had taken Everett away from her, after all, and she was pretty sure he was friends with Felicity -- but really? She'd feel guilty if she did nothing. "Hey," she said, quietly, so as not to disturb the girl too much. "You okay?"
She glanced around a little bit as she walked, her old -- but still in good condition -- Ray-Bans protecting her eyes from the bright sunlight. Her eyes landed on the spot below the bleachers -- it wasn't necesarily surprising to see someone there, but it was to see a Popular -- Felicity Jethro of all people -- lying there in the shade, looking positively sick. She had a quick inner battle -- this was one of the people who had taken Everett away from her, after all, and she was pretty sure he was friends with Felicity -- but really? She'd feel guilty if she did nothing. "Hey," she said, quietly, so as not to disturb the girl too much. "You okay?"
Felicity breathed in the fresh-musty air, filled with the smell of metal, dirt and air. She had her arm behind her head as a sort of pillow and closed her eyes, as she was too tired to even keep them open. She will herself to stay awake, as she refused to believe that she could be sick. Felicity couldn't remember the last time she had developed a cold, let alone a fever. But she was sure that when it happened Allen mustn't have been too happy or thrilled about it. But it might mean that he would leave her alone for a few days until she was better. Or she wouldn't be allowed back until she was better. However unappealing it seemed, she preferred the first option. At least she would be under a roof and maybe even in a bed. Felicity heard the sound of another voice, just as she was starting to drift off to sleep. Normally she would have snapped at the speaker but she was too tired and sick to care. And she had been trying to stay awake, so perhaps a little conversation would do her good. Opening her eyes, she propped up onto her elbows to see an unfamiliar-familiar face. "I'm fine. What do you want?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, in her usual tone. Felicity refused to let on that she wasn't feeling well, though her pale complexion and tired, dull looking eyes said otherwise.
Elaine rolled her eyes. "Look, you might be above me in this stupid high school hierarchy, but you're obviously lying -- something I assume you do quite often -- and no, you don't look okay. And as much as I should hate you, I don't, so I'm offering you my help. You're quite obviously sick. Do you want me to pick you up and drag you to the nurse -- don't look at me like that, you know I could -- or do you want some ibuprofen? Because I think you know which would be easier for the both of us."
"I'll be fine in an hour or too." She said as she laid back down. "Just go away." She said, closing her eyes and placing her forearm over them to make it appear as though it were completely dark, or as close to being dark as it possibly could. Felicity really wasn't in the mood to deal with... with whoever this was. It wasn't her fault if she didn't know the girl's name. They weren't in the same grade and if she had been a senior then she would have looked like one. She must have been some freshman or sophomore. Which led to a bigger mystery as to why she was attempting to talk to Felicity in the first place.
"Fine then, be that way," Elaine snapped, turning and beginning to walk away, head held high. She re-adjusted her sunglasses so that the propped neatly on the bridge of her nose, and shifted her bag, which was hanging on one of her shoulders. Before she was too far away, she considered something. She glanced back at Felicity, a sort of snarl at her lips. "I hope it's mono," she spat, before continuing her walk to the mall parking lots around the corner.
Felicity didn't even bother to react to the girl's attempt at a 'mean' comment. She had heard, and could take, a lot worse than that. And the fact that she still didn't recognize her made her comment even less relevant and offensive. Getting Felicity to actually care about something was relatively difficult. For that to happen some really eventful would need to happen. She sighed in relief to herself as the other girl left and she was finally alone. "I hope it's mono, too." She whispered to herself.
Loudmouth. Constantly babbling. Can't stay still if his life depended on it. Eats like a pig. ANNOYING. This is how people describe Stiles. He's been this way long enough for this to be people's first and lasting impression of him. But he wasn't always like this. He became this way after just one event - an unfortunate one at that.Stiles walked towards the bleachers, seeking some time away fom lacrosse practice. His coach always messed up his name, which was a habit he never minded. At practice, everyone was patiently waiting to watch the disaster Stiles unleashed onto his mentor. Because that was what he was. A walking disaster.
Unaware of his surroundings, and what inhabited it, Stiles casually sat on the bleachers. The bottom of his sneaker propped on the back of the seat in the next row. His hands were placed behind his head in an attempt to make the metallic bleachers as comfortable as he could make it. The faint sound of murmering entered his ears, ceasing his thoughts and causing him to look over. Stile's eyebrows knitted at the feminine figure that lied out on the bleachers.
Yes, lied out, as if she were a hobo or something. In fact, she did not look anything like a hobo, but who knew? Curious, he stood up from the far end of the benches and walked over to see who it was.
Recognition tugged on his mind but he was not aware of the name. What was her name?
All he was sure about was that it was a name that reminded him of a country or someone from there. Fillie? Felcia? Oh my god, I sound lame... he thought.
Words jumbled around thinking of a sentence that wouldn't make him sound like a creep or something.
"You look like crap. Why so sad?" Stiles asked sincerely, raising his eyebrows with interest.
Nice move Stilenski.
((she's actually under them. :P ))Felicity had finally found some peace as she laid in the cool shade under the bleachers. The grass, obviously fake as there was lack of shade under the bleachers, was cool against her against her back and legs as they were fully stretched out before her. Her eyes were closed, her face set in a calm expression, yet it was obvious from her pale complexion to the slightest of frowns tugging at the corner of of hers mouth that she was sick.
Felicity heard the distant noise of guys yelling at one another from the field, and then it slowly died away as the practice must have either ended or there was some sort of break going on. That's when she remembered that it was lacrosse practice. Which meant that Mason would be on the field. Crap. Felicity really had not thought this through. She really must have had a fever if she had forgot that. She hoped that he wouldn't make his way here and notice her here.
A few moments later she heard a voice, too close for it to be anyone from the field and from the comment that was spoken it was obviously directed at her. She felt some relief as she didn't recognize the voice so it wasn't Mason. She opened her eyes to see yet another unfamiliar face. She suppressed a groan of frustration as she replied in her usual monotonous tone. "That's a lovely way to greet a woman." She said simply, closing her eyes again, showing that she was not in the mood to converse.
(( I thought that at first. Then looked over your first post over. Then thought she was on top. Dx ))"Well I was never good with them so I guess we both agree."
Stiles sat hopped down the bench and sat near the opening she must've crawled through to lie in this position. It was true, he had little, practically nothing, with anything pertaining to associating with woman. Stiles has never been in a relationship when he went to school before Salem. It was a small crush on Lydia, but aside from that, the best relationship he has had was with his mother. It sounds depressing, though it was worth it.
As if she were a regular friend, Stiles dug into his pocket and pulled out a packet of gum. He poppped one in his mouth, and dropped the second piece on top of her face. The corners of his lips upturned into a small smile. "Chewing on something always makes me feel better."
Felicity didn't respond to his first comment. She simply closed her eyes and hoped that he would be able to take a hint and leave. Feeling something hit her forehead only a moment later she knew he couldn't. Picking up the piece of gum, she threw it back in the general direction where he was. "Listen, I'm not in the mood to talk, so leave." She said harshly, the frown on her face deepening in obvious anger. A little color flushed to her face from that negative emotion, lighting up her face from the deadly looking color it was a moment before.
Stiles winced in response to her harsh words. But the sudden burst rush of anger made him fully remember her name. "Hey, I know you! You're that crazy one I hear about." Stiles somewhat caught the gum that was thrown back at him, fumbling with his fingers. A sign of a generally clumsy being. Shrugging he undressed the gum of its wrapper and poppped the candy in his mouth. "Anyway, I can't tell you're a little bummed out. You should talk about it, Fillie," he suggested brightly, using the temporary name he had given her.
(( Stiles is stubborn that way :P He'll never leave, especially characters like Felicity xD ))
Felicity ignored his first comment, once again. She didn't want to know how she was the "crazy one" because really, she didn't care. She had heard a lot worse and if he was attempting to insult her, without really trying, well it wasn't working. But he didn't seem like the type of person who had enough brain cells to figure out a decent insult for anything at all. Felicity's face flashed with irritation when he greeted her with the name "Fillie" really? She had heard Fel, Flissy, City, Fels, but never Fillie and perhaps it should have stayed way. "Fillie? Is that what you think my name is? Or your attempt at a failed nickname?"
Stiles pretended to think about it, though a burst of laughter escaped instead. "A little bit of both," he admitted. Plucking at the fake grass that decorated the ground, Stiles released some and watched them float away in the wind. Believe it or not, he was actually enjoying his first day at Salem High. Maybe things wouldn't mess up for him here. "So are you going to 'fess out or not? Look, I would even go first just to pass the time we both know we have."
"Well, here's a little piece of advice. Call me Felicity, try calling me anything else at all, and consider yourself to be on my personal hit list." She warned, though her tone was wavering with exhaustion and didn't give the effect she wanted. Just talking was taking away her energy at this point, so she shut her mouth and closed her eyes and breathed in, trying to get her act together. This wasn't her, this couldn't be her. This was not the Quinn Felicity Jethro people knew. She couldn't be sick. She just couldn't. She would just fall asleep and wake up and be fine. It wasn't because she hated feeling like shit as she was sick, it was mainly because of the consequences she knew would come when she arrived in a nearly faint state when she went back to the house later on.
(( I'm sorry ; A ; I was just so tired and.... TT ^ TT ))Stiles shrugged and fiddled with his thumbs in his lap. "Alright, Felecity. Since I can tell you're in a crappy mood, how about I help you feel better?" he suggested gesturing his hands in a way that implied he wasn't toying with her. He would even walk her to the the nurse's office if necessary, because he was sure as hell not leaving her here. Because that was the way Stile's was. Helping people of the time, even if no one else acknowledged the aid afterwards. It was what his mother taught him to do.
"If you really wanted to help me out, then you would shut up and leave." She said simply. Though she had a general idea that, that would not be happening anytime soon. He seemed like one of those bastards who were the save the sick maiden types. Yeah right. If Felicity was meant to have any sort of prince charming, he would have found her a long time ago and she wouldn't be in the hell she was in now. "You know what? Forget it. I'm already feeling better. See you around." She said getting up and walking away slowly, in the same proud, confident stance she walked with everyday. Though inside she was trying to hold herself together and not fall.
Stiles cocked his head and wondered if he pushed her too far. But he couldn't help but point out the observation she did want to see him sooner or later when the words: See you around were formed in the same sentence. Stiles noted the following encounter the two would have, he would attempt in annoying her less. But it was as if Fillie was beckoning him to tease her. His hand rose in a weak wave that ended their goodbyes. Figuring he should do something with himself, he stood up and studied her retreating figure before walking the other way.
Guy was sitting on the bench, a composition book in his lap. Inside was a cleverly made trap he was planning on rigging that involves the use of a jar of peanut butter, six feet of rope, and a hatchet. His plans for the populars weren't exactly... safe.He wanted them to suffer the way he suffered.
He titled it "Splitting Headache" and put a smiley face next to it.
It was right across the page from another one titled "Break a Leg" and involved a theatre stage, a stage light, and a cleverly placed footstool.
The sketches of them were marvelous, but luckily for him, he never showed anyone and if he decided it looked too bad, he would burn it with the lighter he kept in his back pocket.
((Oh my god, WHAT THE HELL! I can't even. Have you ever seen Gattaca? I JUST DIED. ))Leona was sitting half way up the bleachers, listening to hear iPod. She was still cooling down from her run maybe ten minutes earlier. She'd started out on the track, but then she got sick of seeing the same trees over and over, so she left campus and jogged downtown. By the time she Mae back, she was exhausted. This was a common problem with her; she would run until she was tired and forget that she still had to go back.
A light breeze washed over her, and she closed her eyes for a minute, enjoying the cool air on her warm skin. When she opened them, she noticed someone sitting several rows below her. He had longish blonde hair. She kind of recognized him, but she couldn't think of a name. Maybe he was in one of her classes?
She peered over his shoulder and saw that he was drawing. She scooted down a few rows until she was sitting me row behind him, to his left.
"Hey," she said, glancing at the drawings. She really couldn't help it, she always snooped into other people's business. "Whatcha drawing?"
((No! But now I'm interested!))He instantly flipped to the last page where a sketch of a girl was being done. "Oh, you know, the usual. Just a girl from my Art class. What are you doing up there?" he asked. He knew she didn't have time to see any of the sketches fully or all the functioning parts so they were all still up for grabs and perfectly usable. Still, he didn't want his plans to get out. Most were unethical and painful... and deadly.
A breeze blew the paper up a bit, revealing a fraction of another plan below it. All that was visible to both of them was a wheel. More than likely, it was the Tack-a-pult. The name spoke for itself. Still, it was only a wheel and to most people, the first thing that comes to mind is "car".
The girl he saw was Leona. She was in one of his classes and sat diagonally in front of him. Perfect position for him to see everything she worked on. She was a hard worker, a bit of a snoop on other people's privacy, but nothing horrendous. He had nothing against her personally, in the very least.
((Sorry. Had to drive to my grandparent's, which took aaalllll day >.<))Once she saw his face, a name came to her. Guy, she thought. He's in my English class. He doesn't talk much. She knew there was some big scandal that had happened with him a while ago, but she didn't quite remember what. She tried not to listen to what others said about people. If she wanted to know sometihng about them, she'd just ask them themselves rather than listening to gossip.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost time for the last period of the day, eighth, which she had free. Technically, she had early release after sixth, but she usually stuck around and got a ride home with her sister, Thea.
"Guy Grimm," she said, grinning. "Who knew you were a romantic?" It was a very good drawing, although leona didn't really know who it was of. Then again, the people on her sports teams tended to only socialize with each other, so she wasn't surprsied.
((All good.))A flicker on her face said all he needed to know. She had heard something about the bullying back in freshman year. He hadn't told anyone so it must've been the populars bragging about what they did. Those monsters were actually proud of what they did. He wouldn't tell her though, just in case she didn't know.
"Whoever said I was romantic?" he asked. "A picture is worth a thousand words so I'm sure a few of them are a bit more... lovely..." he reasoned. "What are you doing here?"
((How do you want to deal with the time skip?))"I just did. And you can say whatever poetic things about pictures, but I can tell you, most guys don't idly draw pictures of girls in their art classes. It's romantic." She tilted her head. "Unless, of course, you do it in a creppy way, which I guess I don't know if you do but it doesn't seem like it." God, sometimes Leona wished she said normal things. Who said tihngs like that? But she'd never been good at filtering her thoughts. They just all poured from her brain and out her mouth.
"Oh you know.... just waiting around. I have seventh and eigth off, and I'm inbetween seasons right now so I've been using my free time to run. Plus, that way Thea can give me a ride home."
((We'll just say today is two weeks before. *shrugs* We haven't mentioned dates at all so I think it's fine.))"Thank you, but only a few people have ever called me romantic. Usually it's only after I tell them what my idea of a date is, or what I would call a woman when I compliment her," he thought a bit. "I guess it's kind of a compliment to a girl if I'm sketching her. Unless, of course, I'm sketching her because she's an oddity or out-of-place," he reasoned. "I could very well be a stalker..." he lifted his eyebrows flirtingly a few times. Then he laughed once or twice; he couldn't remember. He just remembered laughing awkwardly because he was saying weird things and wanted to defuse what he had said.
"Just waiting," he said questioningly, but not really a question. "Really? Well, I guess you could say I'm waiting too... for many things," he sighed. "Graduation, moving away, college, marriage, a ride home..."
((Oh k. That works ^^))"Hey, being an oddity or out of place isn't necessarily a bad thing. Actually, I'd say if you were sketching someone because they caught your interest, for whatever reason, that's more of a compliment than just because they're nice to look at. Anyone can be pretty, only some people are unique."
Leona thought about it and then shrugged after a minute. "I hope you're not a stalker, but just in case you are... I keep pepper spray with me." She laughed as well, not noticing any awkwardness.
"I like how you skipped from marriage to a ride home. You are waiting for a lot," she agreed. "I guess I'm waiting for those things too. I usually try not to think about it too much..."
"Actually everyone is unique. There is no exact duplicate of you so saying that a singular person is unique is like saying each flower is unique; it's kind of understood to automatically be true..." he realized that he just sounded like a complete pessimist and asshole, but the words had come flowing out faster than he could hold them in."Too bad I'm immune to that," he winked... badly.
"Always have been, always will be," he sighed. "Not thinking about something is harder if you keep trying to forget... trust me on that one..." his smile flickered.
“Sure, we’re all unique, but we’re not all interesting,” Leona said. She watched him wink and tried to hold back a laugh. “Oh, you’re unique, alright,” she said. “Can you just do that again? That was a super cute wink. Really. You must get aaallll the girls.” She said in a nice way, hoping he understood that she was just joking. But, as soon as she said all the girls, something about his name and face clicked. He’s the guy in those pictures from that party. I was in eighth grade, but I remember Thea talking about it. Someone took a picture of him kissing a guy. She automatically felt embarrassed. She’d just made a joke about getting girls to a gay guy! She felt like such a jerk, but what was she supposed to do, take it back? That might be worse. She blushed and cleared her throat.
“Well, you know, while forgetting seems nice and all, it’s not always the best thing for us…” she was desperate to change the topic, but she trailed off, realizing how much BS that was. She spent all of her time suppressing memories.
"If we are unique, then we are interesting," he replied. "Do what?" he asked seriously. He wasn't exactly sure what she wanted him to do. Oh, wink. "Um, no, no, I don't," he said short and seriously. He didn't wink."Yeah, if you forget, then you forget yourself, but remembering changes you just as much," he sniffed a bit and looked at the ground. "So I'm not sure exactly what to do with the memories."
He noticed her blush then. "Oh, so you do know about me and my history?" he rolled his eyes. "Of course you do..." he looked away. "You probably believe it without question too. You probably don't know that I was drunk, that I'm BICURIOUS, that..." he trailed off. "Yeah, you probably didn't know that..." he stopped talking. "Sorry, about that. Had to say it for once."
Everett’s footfalls were calm and eerily silent as he walked in the direction of the bleachers facing the middle of the field. His eyes moved casually from person to person distinguishing between the populars and the … others without need of getting to know them. Knox knew everyone, though it wasn’t personal by any means. The gears in his head worked every moment of every day, and as of right now them churned with ideas – plots – varying from popular to popular. Occasionally his eyes floated to his left to sweep over people on the bleachers, but it seems that there were less than there were out on the fields. Either way he managed to find room in that head of his for everyone all at once. With his lips sealed shut he stepped up onto one of the bleachers, stepping from beam to beam, further and further he went before settling himself on the second bleacher to the top, resting his bum on the cool surface with a slow even breath escaping between his lips.
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Me, Myself, and I, You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
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Once she was at the top, Violet sat maybe a foot or two away from the senior. Stretching out her legs so they rested on the beam below her, she crossed her ankles and flipped open her textbook again. Threading her fingers through a small section of blonde hair that had fallen from her bun, she shoved it back behind her ear. Only for it to slide right back in its previous position. Motherfucker. She swore to the heavens, one day she was just going to take a blade to these damn locks and hack them right off.
Everett had spotted the girl in the corner of his eyes but simply slipped both of his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He would’ve leaned back it the metal had had a back but unfortunately is didn’t and there were a few legs here and there that just so happened to be in his way. As Violet inched closer a faint sort of smile itched itself across the seniors features; There was no apparent reason for this, in face he did it quite a lot, especially seeing as that Violet was none to be one feisty ball of fur. It’s not that he was particularly out for something from her, he had little reason to even talk to her really other than the fact that they one something in common; The Popular were bitches. Not to mention the fact that he’d caught a glimpse of her eyes glancing up in his direction before she was now on her way up, Everett was silent for a moment, letting those thoughts of his put together carefully what he was going to say just before he actually said it; Word from word. “Violet, correct?” The boy didn’t bother waiting for her to answer, he knew what the answer was anyhow. Taking bother hands again out of his jacket he leaned his elbows forward onto his knees, hands clasping together casually. “Never mind that, I know you’re name.” his voice was quiet. Then and only then did the senior sway his gaze in her general direction, “Hate to say it, but if you’re going to study I would’ve guessed the library would be much less distracting . . . For the both of us.”
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At his words, she glanced over at him, arching a sculpted eyebrow. The look Perry had long since dubbed as her Challenger look. "I'm a distraction? Aww, you shouldn't have." Her voice was flat, clearly implying she was not amused in the slightest at his suggestion. Ahaha. Haha. Ha. Like hell she'd leave. If her presence was such a damn problem, he had legs -nice ones, at that- and he could very well use them. She'd only sat next to him because she'd relied on him not to try that thing most humans were known for- You know, communication? "When I start listening to suggestions, you'll be the first to know, Everett." Yes, she was a bitch, but what else was new? Looking back down at her textbook, her eyes searched for the place she'd left out. Clearly dismissing him.
Everett didn’t let her get the best of him in even the slightest respect. Instead he actually chuckled, his teeth gleaming sharply in the sunlight pelting down onto the crowd of students on the bleachers. Looking side to side a moment he rested his gaze back onto her. Unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately – for Violet here Everett was in a good mood and would be speaking to her. Besides the fact that he actually didn’t mind conversing this one lived up to what he’s heard prior to actually speaking with here. There are other times he’s exchanged a few words with her here and there but Everett wouldn’t mind actually giving her a go. Why not? “Oh no, Vi, you’ve got everything all wrong.” He stated leisurely, smirk still solemnly spread out across his features. His eyes weren’t exactly lit up, no of course they weren’t elated, though they did suggest he was intrigued. “It wasn’t a demand, just an observation.” He specified. Then Everett redirected his gaze ahead, running side to side with a few people he knew and hated very well. “If it had been a demand you would’ve gone, or worse… you would’ve stayed.”
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At his words, she rolled her ice blue eyes. "Do I now, Ev?" When the mock nickname slipped past her lips, her eyes narrowed in his direction. Making it clear she did not like the sound of her nickname coming from his mouth. The only two people she could ever stand to hear utter the pet name was Perry and a certain black haired, blue eyed senior that was currently absent. And maybe it was the fact that Wes had sort of made her retract her claws for a bit, but suddenly, they were back and in full force. Too bad Everett was her chosen victim: Sort of like a cat and that poor scratching post. "You'll find that I'm not much of the listener type." And since, -even though she'd like to keep pushing him- he still creeped her out a bit, "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'm a bit busy. You know, actually being productive." She nodded toward her textbook, flipping back to the glossary to look up a vocab word.
(Lols, I love them already xD)
((Me too! c:)) With a slight sigh of what had to be nothing but – fake – boredom Everett shook his head away from the girl. He was anything but bored though, in fact he was having a grand ‘ol time butting heads with the Sophomore. “You really must learn to control yourself if you’re going to get anywhere in this school, Violet.” He resorted to her regular name, not because he disliked the face that she’d shorten his own name but because he simply wanted to. There was something about that nickname for her that he didn’t quite like rolling off his tongue. It was sort of an irritating acronym, of course he also didn’t think the name Violet suited her very well. She was far to violent. Though she hadn’t lunged for him in any way it was clear as the sun on a cloudless, sunny day to him that she was well on her way to getting there – Yet he seemed to care even less than before. He did what he wanted, and he wanted to continue talking to her because, “That isn’t productive, sweetheart.” He said, “Whether or not you can see it I’m the one being productive. We just have … very separate ways of doing so.” He said, looking back over the people he’d been studying earlier, formulating.
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Mod
Doing her best to ignore him, she shifted on the beam, long legs still stretched out before her. Going back to her reading in the textbook, her long lashes concealed her cobalt gaze as she took in the typed words. This unit was her favorite and, unless you were more than a blimp on her radar, she wasn't letting herself stray from the reading. After a few moments, she was back in that place, where it was like the rest of the world could go up in flames and she wouldn't even notice. So engrossed in what she was reading, she was completely oblivious to everything else. Until Everett opened his mouth again. "Yeah, as productive as," She glanced over at him, making a show of taking in what he was taking in. "What, admiring the view?"
((Oops >.<)) Everett snorted in laughter, shaking his head slightly. “You see, you people don’t understand what possibilities can be simply thought out in your mind,” he looked down at her book in the corner of his eye. “Versus reading it straight out a textbook. I suppose that could give you some knowledge, but it’s also true that half of the people that came up with chemistry and physics were smoking crack all there life. Well I guess they could’ve gone the easier more affordable route back then, with opium influx and all.” The seniors words were so extremely effortless he would notice little if someone were to challenge them. He was kindly do well to finish his sentence before punching whomever had interrupted him in the face like nothing stifled his cool head again. Everett’s eyes had wandered back to what he had been doing in the first place, supposedly it looked like he was ‘enjoying the view’ but alas he was not. His eyes were running over certain people, flickering from person to person, ideas bouncing around in that skull of his just the way they were meant to – just the way that he climbed up to such high ranks in this God forsaken school, into a better place (obviously Everett wasn’t
