Going by Eastern Standard Time, I mean. x3 ||
Edit:: || Finally finished! My muse for Kuan is running a little low so I had to spend alot of thinking-time on it, but I was able to squeeze out a pretty decent amount. Sorry if it's too short ^^; ||
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Set fire to the Third Bar wrote: I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
Anastesia chuckled at Note's super hero impression and bit her lip. She could tell by the expression on his face he wasn't sure how to think about her moving in with the other other teenagers in the woods, which she had expected and come to know all too well. She could never give her best friend the right answer to satisfy his curiosity on the subject, always giving him ever-changing and unclear answers: "I need a little change in scenery."; "I need to get away from the step-loser."; "It's kind of like a reform thing."; "It's like....a college group. A sorority."; And it goes on and on.... She felt terrible about lying to Note, but the Elders made it clear at her Turning ceremony that under no conditions could she reveal that she turned into a furry beast ever so often. If the rule was broken, it could result in death, or to suffer the same fate as herself. And since he already had a broken-minded mother to take care of, she couldn't possibly do that to him. Not to Note...
As a Newborn werewolf, only about a month in the making, her senses were getting stronger every day, and her temper was getting far more sensitive as time pressed on. Her sleep patterns were getting interrupted, her dreams seemed to be frantic, and she was beginning to feel strange... Anastesia was afraid of what she would be like when she turned into a wolf on her night; would she be like that Rabid running around town? Killing all those innnocent girls in what seemed to be cold-blood, or even for sport? So many questions swarmed around in her head about the new addition to her life. Why did she even accept this? She couldn't even remember anymore. It had only been maybe a month, or a month and a half, since she agreed to the terms of becoming a werewolf, and already she'd forgotten why she even wanted all of the resposibility that came with it. All this worry...
« тєℓℓ мє ωнαт уσυ мєαηт »
The sound of Note's voice aggreing to her offer took a momentary load-off of her shoulders; alteast Note was still willing to hang out like they did in the good old days... With a "camp out" too! This was going to be a great Friday night... Anastesia gave her friend a wide smile and nodded, "Definately! Man, we havent had one of those in years. And if you bring Paranormal Activity, I'm busting out Dead Snow." The girl laughed at the thought of watching a foreign zombie movie with Note. She couldn't remember what country it was from, but it was either Polish or Norwegian {but leaning more towards Norwegian}. And, unfortuantely for the creators, for a teen-slasher zombie movie it was actually pretty funny. The beginning sequence, trying to be ironic and gruesome at the same time, honestly made her laugh her -ss off. She had a feeling Note would like it too, even though all the English movie dialouge was just subtitles floating at the bottom of the screen. Most of the words even ended up getting lost in translation, which made the horror-fail experience even funnier. But she had to admit: Even though it was all-in-all a good movie, she could never say it was scary in the least bit. Therefore, it had to have a special moment to shine on Bad Movie Night. Anastesia tried to hide the smile that was spreading across her lips. The thought of watching movies with Note all night, playing videogames, and eating a gooey cheese pizza from Cicero's, it had to be a dream come true. Especially since a camp out was involved.
"And you know I could never say no to Nutella and I warm blanket! I have the feeling your almost trying to bribe me." she said jokingly, giving a Note a horrendously fake suspicious look only to burst into a small giggle-fit.
She couldn't recall how long it had exactly been since their last backyard adventure, probably Three-or-so years. She knew she was still not much a woman back then though, or else Kluade would have never let her be around Note in "such a fashion", lesbian or no. But now, since she was Nineteen, Klaude gave up on trying to hold her back from anything she wanted to do. Atleast, she convinced herself that was the reason, and not her mother.
"And we won't have to worry about Alex or Klaude while we're in the house: Alex will be spending the night a friend's house and Klaude is....doing something." Honestly, she had no clue what Klaude was doing that night, other than the vague description of: "I'm going out." At the time, Anastesia didn't care to bleed more details from the conversation, much too wrapped up in her own issues and thoughts to really care to try. She knew it wouldn't be a date, and that's all that really counted about his plans - as selfish as that may sound. Anastesia remembered when her mother was still alive and Klaude was still...Klaude. Alex was still acting like an average kid then, and a raging ball of energy of a child, for that matter. Amazing how one incident could could take that all away. Though she would never admit to anyone, not even Note, she hated her mother for everything. Her life as a kid in Shibuya was a living hell, yet another thing she never talked about, and Klaude's fortune-bringing to the broken home was a double-edged sword for her; Have a better, and more finacially stable family, but have to pay the price of living with the man for the rest of her life. Her mom was unfaithful; she lied, she cheated, she stole, and all the while not giving a damn about what the consequences would be. Maybe that's why she confessed to everything on her death bed - so she would only have to see the shocked looks on our faces for no more than a minute, rather than a few decades more while still living out her secret life behind her family's back.
« ωнєη уσυ ѕαι∂ уσυ мιѕѕє∂ мє »
Anastesia's thoughts were interrupted by the harsh ringing of the school bell, and as she looked at Note's face, she knew he was just as excited about the end of the week as she was. The red-haired girl smiled at her closest friend and leaned in for a quick hug before going to class, which was actually a little unusual for her. But it was a special occasion. "Okay, well, I'll see you during Free Period, right? Meet me at the Library, let's go out for lunch today, my treat." she added with a little smile, still holding onto Note's arm as she talked. She honestly wanted to make this week as special as possible. Anastesia was trully afraid she wouldn't have Note in her life much longer because of the Rabid, and the Code she had pledged by that faithful night a month earlier. When Anastesia let go of Note and began to walk towards her First period class, the thought of skipping immediantly popped into her head. But she knew she wouldn't pull it off at this point, all of her teachers for the day had already spotted her atleast once and knew she was present and looking well, so she couldn't fake sick either. Oh well... Anastesia waved to Note one last time before walking on down the hallway, his face quickly disappearing behind an ocean of others. She went with the current of students as if she were in a school of fish, all walking at a seemingly synchronized pace as they traveled down the linoleum floors of the school and broke off into smaller groups to head to their designate classes. Eventually, it was only herself and a few others - an Asian kid, a couple AV clubbers, and a little posse of jocks and their cheerleaders. Before long, she came upon her first class of the day: Creative Writing. So far, Anastesia had gone thorugh all but one of her core classes neccesary for her graduation of highschool, and got her pick of almost any class she wanted for the rest of her time spent in this little hell-hole, including just going home early.
First period in her Creative Writing class went by relatively quickly. Anastesia didn't need to worry about failing this class, getting a bad mark, or even a dirty look from her teacher; this was something she trully excelled at. For her, creative writing was more like a chance for her to let loose on everything she felt through a language that only she could understand - be it in a poem, a haiku, a short story, or an opinion-based essay. She could say whatever she wanted, and more. She honestly felt like a geek for being so good at this class, it was designed for people who aspire to be Starbucks writers who sit around drinking frappes while announcing that they're working on a screenplay, the "next big novel", a "break-through" in the poetry world, or complaining to the other coffe-loving patrons that some big shot writer stole their idea. Even though she never wanted, or planned, on having a carrer in writing, it felt good to write out her thoughts and feelings in supposed "fantasy" stories when the oppertunity arrose.
That day in particular, there was nothing to pay attention to. The teacher, Ms. Jennings, mindlessly babbled on and on about her new born granddaughter and other useless prattle that happened to spill out of her mouth. Anastesia took the great opening in free-time to day dream about the coming Friday, and how fun it would be. She had the sudden realization that she might need to pick out a specific outfit for the evening; nothing flashing alot of skin, nothing overly baggy, and nothing too casual, but it can't look like she actually had to spend time thinking on it... She almost smacked herself in the face. God, there I go again. Geez, it's one night with a friend I've had since Middle School, why do I want to make myself worry about it so much? It's not like it's something I've never done before, it's just something I haven't done...recently. No big deal, I just need to chill... Chiiiiiiillll.. Anastesia shook her head and smiled to herself, There we go, all strange anxiety gone.
« тєℓℓ мє нσω уσυ ƒєℓт »
The remained of the period, Anastesia drifted along the line of sleep until the bell rang, and shot up out of her seat to leave before the mob came screeching down the hall. Second period was Calculus, the only required class she hadn't done yet. And it was a pain to deal with. Anastesia was decent at math, never had any real trouble. At least not enough to need tutoring or extra-credit work to fill in any gaps in her grades. So far she was averaging a B+, probably a medium-B at the most. Next was yet another art class, which she breezed right through for the day. And finally, the final class that she had to face before free period: Psychology. Basically, Psychology was the class that had human behavioural studies, Theorectics on religion and beliefs, and philosophy all meshed into one class. She had to admit, it was a really nerdy class for her to be taking, but she found it...interesting. She liked hearing about the "whys" and "hows" of what people think, and it completely fascinated Anastesia. It was another class she knew she would never make a carrer out of, but nonetheless, it was still a fun thing for her. This class was teaching her how to read people after all, and she could put such a talent to good use. That day in particular, they were supposed to talk about the psychology behind Pantheism, the belief that all things in the Universe are connected. With a lecture that was meant to span all across time itself, Anastesia had more trouble focusing on the teacher's words rather than some cute guy walking outside. The teacher's booming voice was all but lost in her ears; Not totally blocked out due to her heightened senses, but she was distracted enough for it to sound as if he were talking to her from inside a glass bottle. For the remainder of the class period, Anastesia mindlessly scribbled doodles of unidentifiable creatures from her imagination and made a partial diary entry for the day in her personal notebook. Generally, everyone in this class had a binder or notebook about as thick as their wrist to copy down notes - she was probably the only one in the room who threw such an age-old tradition out the window - but, it wasn't required, so she didn't bother with it. She retained most information anyway, and was never one to cram or study for any kind of test or exam, so the only time she ever felt the need to copy her teacher's words onto paper was when it was a particularly difficult subject to grasp. This Psychology class was year-long, much different from the one she had tried out in Freshman year, which gave them plenty of time to cover just about ever corner of the human mind. After their long journey through Religious phiolosophy and the psychology behind the traditions, they were to study possibly the most exciting part of Psychology: the mind of a criminal. Serial killers, rapists, theives - and all their behaviors and the reasons behind them. All just so fascinating... But that wasn't until after the Winter Formal, the most anticipated school dance other than Prom Night. Personally, Anastesia didn't have much interest in the Formal. It wasn't like she had anyone to go with as a date, Note would be the closest thing she could get. For the umpteenth time that day, the class bell broke through her thoughts and sent them scattering, making her forget what she was even thinking about as she shoveled all of her belongings into her pack and left the class room. She waded through the masses of other students trying to get to the Library, which proved more difficult than originally thought, to meet up with Note.
She arrived at the door to the Library about 10 minutes late, and quickly opened the doors to scuttle inside.
« ωнєη уσυ ∂ι∂η'т кιѕѕ мє »
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Hell Song wrote: Everybody's got their problems
Everybody says the same things to you
It's just a matter of how you solve them
And knowing how to change the things you've been through
I feel I've come to realize
How fast life can be compromised
Step back to see what's going on
I can't beleive this happened to you
This happened to you
It's just a problem that I'm faced with, am I
Not the only one who hates to stand by
Complications that are first in this line
With all these pictures running through my mind
Knowing endless consequences
I feel so useless in this
Get back - step back - and as for me,
I can't believe.
Part of me won't agree
Cause I don't know if it's for sure
Suddenly, {suddenly}
I don't feel so insecure
After another long and painful moment of lying through his teeth to his family, Kuan finally go the oppertunity to leave his cozy little house. He was sad to say he was happy about it. He wished there was a way to just...turn it off for a while until he was ready to deal with it. But life didn't work that way, atleast not for him. Other people where lucky enough to just be able to walk through a door and the problem immediantly evaporates, like when your bed room is messy and you don't want anyone to notice until your ready to clean it up, so you just keep your door closed. So simple. Kuan had thought about moving out, and continued to consider the idea further as he pulled on a jacket, and walked out the front door down to the gravel walkway from his house to the front of the open garage, where his '84 Cadillac sat in somber silence as the first bits of sunlight peeked into the windows. His keys jingled furiously as he fished them out of his jacket pocket and jabbed them into the lock, and had to pull on the door several times before it finally opened. The car was once his Grandmother's, but once she decided had had no more need for it she simply gave it to Kuan. He was overjoyed at first, simply happy that he finally got a car and didn't have to pay a thing for it; his first step to independance. All good feelings eventually dissipated into quiet ressentment for the vehicle and the fact he had to abuse it {and sometimes himself} just to get inside.
« ι ωαѕ ωαιтιηg ƒσя α ¢яσѕѕ-тσωη тяαιη
ιη тнє ℓση∂ση υη∂єяgяσυη∂ »
ιη тнє ℓση∂ση υη∂єяgяσυη∂ »
The air inside the car was cooler than it was outside, especially on the old leather seats, so Kuan quickly got the car turned on a punched up the heat, not caring that cold air was blowing in his face in place of heat. The only thing he was really focused on was getting out of the drive way, down the road, and into the school parking lot and his first period before he was counted late. And at the time, it was already starting to prove only slightly less than impossible. Kuan wasted no more time as he backed out of his gravel drive way as quickly as possible - narrowly avoiding a wild squirrel, his mail box, and a tree that seemed to appear almost spontaniously during the process- and made it to the road, pressing his foot down harder and harder on the gas pedal as he house shrank out of site. His dad would kill him for speeding, not because it would wreck the car or get kuan hurt, but because of the slight possibility that Kuan would get a ticket. To his father, even the tiniest possible mark on Kuan's record was a danger to Kuan's future career, and Martin Moua would never stand for that. The thought made Kuan grimance, it was 100% true, and he somewhat resented his father for it. His obsession with giving his son an unfufilling, overly-compicated job that required a full commitment was near sickening. His father never once asked if it was okay, if it's what he honestly wanted to do, or ever told him he could do anything he wanted after he graduated as long as he was happy, but asked how walking through a pre-planned highschool life was. Probably not even wanting the real answer anyway. Kuan had to sheild his eyes as he came across another curve in the road and had to actually keep his visor down to keep himself from going blind. It was only about 10 more minutes before he would be getting to school, and how fast he could run across the parking lot and through the halls without getting reprimanded would either make or break it for him getting to class on time.
Hopefully, no one will actually be looking when I get there.
If Kuan had his way, he wouldn't even be going to school right now, probably ditching like he usually wished he could when his day had a rocky start. And a rocky start for him almost never meant a good day for him. He never had had many friends to inspire him to really get up in the morning, or a girlfriend for that matter. There were a few people that he considered to be friends: A couple guys from his Gym class back in Sophmore year, a hot-headed Jock {who he is shocked has genuine conversations with him instead of spending that time beating the living hell out of him}, and a girl he'd met earlier named Allison, or Ally, as she sometimes liked to be called. He had to admit she was pretty, somewhat out of his league, and probably just as shy as he is, but he liked talking to her. She definately wasn't someone he would normally avoid, sometimes he would even go a little out-of-his-way just to talk to her for a few minutes. She was nice, and that's all he would ever admit outloud. He was much to shy to say much else. Right now, he couldn't see himself dating her, or her even liking him at all in, y' know, that way. It was simply a casual friendship...
Vibrations coming from the phone in his pocket made Kuan jump a little before he retreived it, and, unsuprisingly, he dropped it before he could press the tab on the screen to open it. He sighed. That d-mn iPhone has everything: built in wi-fi, Netflix for boredom, games that I got through the internet, even Siri. It has everything... EXCEPT, a non-slip surface. The thought made Kuan snort, and he didn't even bother to try to pick the phone up while driving. Too many saftey lectures, and One too many close-calls. Never again.
« ωнєη ιт ѕтяυ¢к мє
тнαт ι'νє вєєη ωαιтιηg ѕιη¢є вιятн тσ ƒιη∂ »
тнαт ι'νє вєєη ωαιтιηg ѕιη¢є вιятн тσ ƒιη∂ »
It wasn't long before Kuan actually saw the school building, and all the parked cars with their busting people in the parking lot. Finally.. Kuan got a parking space near the very middle of the lot, and had all of his stuff together, including his balsted phone, together before he opened the car door and booked it to the front of the school after he shut the door. He never bothered to lock the car, because he knew good and well no person in their right mind would choose his, a little grandmother-like car not meant for getting away from cops or drug-transportation {not that things like that ever happened in this town anyway}, out of all the other ones in the lot. I don't think so. It would even be a choice car for vandalism, you can't help but to pity the thing so much that you feel bad even while busting it up. Kuan would know, at one point in time he was dead set on ruining it so he could get one that wasn't almost twice as old as him. But clearly, he just didn't have enough contempt for it to do it... yet.
The run across the parking lot was a short one, which was met by almost record-breaking time at him getting to school as late as he left. He was actually about 5 minutes early before the bell. And right on time too. He saw Allison and all of her endearing shyness right across the hall, messing about in her little locker. Kuan immediantly straightened up his posture and slid his hands into his pockets, silently praying that she hadn't seen him running like a frantic idiot across the pavement and then burst through the door completely out of breath.
For once in your life, do yourself a favor and don't make a fool of yourself. Like you always somehow manage to do. He tacked on the last bit of the thought with a bit of bitterness, he knew how often he tripped over words or just made himself look like a nerd, and on occasion even a know-it-all. An unintentional know-it-all, that is.
Kuan strutted over to Allison casually, giving her a little wave when she noticed him after he took his first few steps. "Hey," he said lamely. He couldn't think of really anything to say at all other than "hey", no kind of creativity was tossed in. Just... Hey. Kuan always got nervous talking to people, especially female people. Ugh.... And as if to play off of that, his locker was even right next to the only Girl's bathroom on the floor, and he usually tried to avoid going near it unless absolutely necessary. Like, he would get shot if he didn't retrieve something from it, kind of necessary. He couldn't risk being called a pervert. He was a nerd already, a nerdy pervert would just be overkill on his reputation. Kuan tried to just smile as he killed off the distance between him and his friend, trying to just keep a smile on his face as his thoughts continued to rammble on and on in his head. Sometimes he felt as if he had no actual control over them and that they had a mind of their own, which wasn't really the case, he simply just didn't try to cage them most of the time.
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ℓιкє α мσνιє »
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