ｈｏｔ ｃｈｏｃｏｌａｔｅ⊱ always accepting

[blackbird.]

P E T E R . J O N A H . F O R D

Peter offered a smile at her. She looked somewhat sporty, to him at least, but she didn't look like the type of girls on the women's basketball squad. More of an in-between of them, the cheerleaders, and the normal people. Still, though, perhaps one day they could do sports together. Running was quite safe, and basketball was easy to learn, or he could even teach her skateboarding. Or she would fail horribly and it would be a waste of time. Maybe they should just stick to small talk. At her question, even he could not suppress a small laugh. "A little loud? How are your eardrums?" It was a rhetorical question; he gave her no time to answer before going on. "I listen to metal, all kinds. Alternative, heavy, metalcore. It keeps things out, and in too..." He shrugged, trying to rid his head of the things which came to mind. "What about you? Not a metalhead, obviously." People always said that a person could be judged based on what type of music they listened too. As a metalhead, he gained a lot of criticism, but he didn't care. He was actually quite interested to find out what kind of person Asta was from her taste in music.

((Thank you! I'm so glad they're finally over. Replies should be a lot more prompt now. Sorry the week has been paper after paper so I couldn't afford to take breaks, and thus the long wait.))

[jet pack blues]

sigríður ásta hilmarsson
17❄female❄with: peter

I snort at his sarcastic question. I jut my chin out ever so slightly, as if I was glad to have endured such a loud piece of music for so long, although I meant the gesture in an almost joking way. "Not a metalhead is right," I say finally after listening to his statement. "But I agree with that. There's never such thing as turning your music up too loud." I smile very vaguely, though it isn't for Peter. Everyone had those days where just simply turning on a song was enough. You had to completely turn it up and drown out the world around you, like the boy had said. "I'll listen to anything, really," I continue on. "Anywhere from Lumineers to Eminem, in all honesty." This time, my smile forms into a small sort of grin. There seemed to be a huge difference in the soft, folksy band and the explicit rapper, but I couldn't deny Eminem. I laugh quietly and finally set my latte down. "Cold coffee is no good," I mumble with a small, fake pout.

[blackbird.]

P E T E R . J O N A H . F O R D

Peter nodded. A person of good taste, he would admit. Eminem was a talented musician and rapper. Peter wasn't a fan, but he respected that the white man could make it so far in that genre of music. Besides, Eminem had taken a lot of crap in life, as did a lot of the band members in the metal bands he listened to, so Eminem was someone he approved of. As for the other one, Lumineers, he wasn't so sure about. "Well Eminem's really cool. I mean, I don't really listen to him, but after all he's been through, he's pretty amazing to be standing strong." As for what kind of person she was, Peter could only guess she was a normal person. From what he knew, she didn't really have a stereotype. Just a normal person who played a little sports and listened to all kinds of music. Casually, Peter picked up his cup of coffee before realising he had finished it already. He checked his pockets - enough money for two. "Want me to help you get a new one? I need another."

[jet pack blues]

sigríður ásta hilmarsson
17❄female❄with: peter

My odd grin turns into a dimming smile, flickering out like the light of a candle would have. I try to think about the effect of music in general— how it helps people. I think back to a lesson in my science class my seventh grade year. Our teacher had given us small little quizzes to help us determine which side of our brain we worked off of. The right side, she said, was the more creative part of our brains. The one that was carefree and colorful. The left side, however, was the side that was black and white; cut and dry. I remember her also saying that if we didn't have a balance of both the sides, then life as we knew it wouldn't be possible. For instance, if society consisted of just left-brained people, we would have a boring, drab life with scheduled daily lives. But bring the right side into the picture, and you bring along joy and art and color and happiness. Music was happiness, in my perspective. I snap out of the small trance of thought that I was lost in to smile politely at Peter's offer. "No thanks, I'm good," I say. I glance back outside to the barren, icy scene with a dragged out sigh. "What I really want us to get out of here," I remark.

[reasonable.]

--Will I get accepted..?--

[boat]

{{Accepted ^^

[blackbird.]

P E T E R . J O N A H . F O R D

Peter sighed heavily. "Me too." He really didn't want to be reminded of the cold, but Asta had mentioned it, and now it popped back into his head. How wonderful. He glanced out the window, at the unending sea of white. He always hated the colour white. So innocent and pure - disgusting. Black was always the best. With some red, like blood. He thought of all the bands with logos the colour of black. Slipknot's logo was black usually. And Slayer's was red against a black background, the original version, that is. But back to the point, white sucked. And so did winter. Every winter was horrible, and this was the worst. A little voice told him that it was not true, at least he had met Asta. But that was just the tiny part of him which always found something positive. But sometimes, most of the time, there were more negatives than positives. Which made life suck, especially his life. He glanced at the empty cup in his hand. Screw coffee, he needed a drink - alcohol, that is. A few beers would be good. But he didn't have his friends to go and buy some with. Irritants. "I hate winter." His comment was blunt, to the point, and dripping with annoyance. "It's too cold to do anything. And there's too much white."

[jet pack blues]

sigríður ásta hilmarsson
17❄female❄with: peter

I smile an amused grin and stand up from my seat, the warmth that was huddled around me disappearing. I can't help but laugh at his hateful comment towards winter. My cousins—if they were here, of course— had always made fun of me. I was known as the 'worst Viking ever.' It was true. Actually, more than true. I complain about cold weather all the time. For whatever reason it was, I hated it. I much preferred a warm, sandy beach in the middle of the summer with the salty air sticking to your body. "I can relate," I say. But as I think about it, the white never bothered me much. I chuckle with a small shake of my head and dump my half full cup in a trash can across the room. My blanket trained behind me as I float back to the chair. "If it were, per say, summer, what would you be doing right now?" I ask. My eyes now attentive to his answer, I lean slightly forward in anticipation. He seems like he has better things to do than sit down with a cup of coffee, and I was curious to find those things out.

[reasonable.]

--Thank you! Anyone open..?--

[effervescence]

Um...I don't know where the rper for zeke is...and I messaged them a ton so I guess rosalie is.))