You Don't Call The Shots{ O P E N

[marco]

Well thats right, I may have faked it.
And I wouldn't be caught DEAD in this place.

There was one thing that teachers should know: If you tell your student not to go somewhere, of course they're going to go to that exact place. If you don't believe me, take a look at the action that is happening right as we speak. The sun was out, but it did little to heat the area we are focusing on. In fact, it didn't really heat any part of the school. Sitting by a shed, leaning against it with their nose in a book; was a boy. An average looking boy, if you will. Falling into the usual fashion of dark clothing and hoodies, converse and studded belts. If you were to ask him, his name is Marco DeSaint, you would probably get a snort and ignored. If there were to be a reply, it would probably only to state any way of wearing clothes is just a style, no matter how uniquely you dress yourself. With a smirk across his choppers, and his black painted nails grasping onto the book in his hands; Marco continued to read his book. Why is this against the rules? Well, he was leaning against he Ground Keeper's shed. Which was against the rules. Not that Marco, oh forgive me-- You probably don't know him by that name. Not that Saint was really one for rules.

The wind blew slightly as Saint flipped the page in the book, and gave a small sigh. The book was Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It was possibly the millionth time he had read this book, but it was one of his favorites. or at least this weeks favorite. Every week there was normally a different book he loved, and he would read it over and over again; then he'd just grow tired of it and find a different book to love. He needed to get a new one soon; but he wasn't really sure what book to get. He'd have to ask a friend, later, maybe. Or go to a club and seduce a girl by making her think he was one of those goody two shoes. Some girls seemed to fall for guys that read a lot of books and did well academically; both of which he did, though he wasn't your typical braniac. I honestly don't want to get into all that right now though, so I'll just tell you about it later if you're still interested.

Another sigh. Another page turned. Before he knew it, his lips were dry and his mouth was kind of slimy. Putting the book down on his stomach, seeing how his knees were brought up and his torso was slanted to make an 'N' shape; the book stayed where it had been marked on his stomach just fine. Five slender digits grabbed a monster can, and brought it up to his mouth. But before he could take a sip, Saint got an eerie thought. What if the grounds keeper killed him? It wasn't like he was trying to stay a live, Saint wouldn't mind dying as long as he didn't take his own life; but he wasn't so sure he wanted death by grounds keeper. He wanted a poetic death. Saving a child or jumping in front of a car to keep it from smashing a squirrel. Not getting stabbed in the head by a pair of hedge clippers. With a shiver, Saint finally took a drink from the can. It was probably around his fourth, and though the can said he was only supposed to have three a day; it definitely wasn't his last. Saint hated sleep. When he slept, he had horrible nightmares about his past, so he simply tried to deprive himself of the much needed action until he couldn't anymore. Seeking help from the liquid energy, coffee, candy, anything.

Crossing his feet at the ankles, he put the can down and grabbed the book again. Oh well. If he was going to die, he was going to at least finish this book up. Right above him, was why he had came her originally; and beside him set the tools that he had used. The tools? Were red, black and silver spray cans. The thing above him was a big, wonderfully done if you liked art; of a STOP sign. Underneath it, in a way that any gang member would have to respect; was the words "OR DIE" on it. It was an old skill he wanted to freshen up on, tagging things. Who knows what would happen once he got out of this place. He'd probably end right back up in that stupid gang. Eh, oh well. At least he would finish this book. That was all he wanted out of life at that moment.

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Words: 788
Notes: (:
Tagged: First to post, I don't want multiple people D:
Credits: Banner, Apples <3333 Thread name - Pencey Prep. Lyrics under banner - Panic At The Disco.[/size][/center]

[louisa cho]

And when I get excited
My little China girl says..
"Oh baby just you shut your mouth"
She says, "Shhhhh...."

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Most nights, Louisa slept like a baby. At first, it had been hard for her she blamed herself for her father dying but then soon realized that it was his own fault. He had probably been drunk or high or...Something. Despite the fact that he didn't do either. Besides, she reasoned, he had burned her. Her dollish hand moved up to her shoulder as she felt around for the scar in memory.

Maybe she had drove him to it but, Louisa sighed. Occasionally, she'd have a bad night where all she would do was toss and turn or maybe like awake at night because despite being the bitch that she was, she missed her father. He had been everything to her growing up and she had been his world. He had given her the world on a silver platter and he did his best to keep her happy. "Mmm..." her eyes closed half way and the young woman's almond shaped eyes squeezed shut.

Her thin eyebrows were drawn together as she held onto her stuffed lamb. It hadn't been something she had for her entire childhood but something she bought from Bath and Body Works. Burying herself into the fake wool she murmured, "Go back to sleep go back to sleep..." Rolling onto her side she hugged the stuffed creature to her chest and stared at a picture of her in a tutu with her father's hand on her shoulder. The girl in the picture looked just so damn happy as did the man. Why did everything have to go so wrong?

Louisa preferred her dreams to the reality because in her dreams she could still dance. She could still twirl and jump! Letting go of her lamb she frowned and the miniature senior brought her gentle hand up to her eye as she whimpered. If only she had stuck that landing! If only she had done just that one little thing then she would probably have her scholarship! Instead of being in the hole was in, she'd be on her way to Juilliard! It just wasn't fair! If she hadn't been trapped in that wheel chair she wouldn't have gotten so numb.

Sniffing, she rubbed her miniscule nose with her wrist as she slipped out of bed. At least she could walk, and it wasn't as though she couldn't dance. She just couldn't dance as well. Slipping on some clothes she slipped on a pair of Mary Jane's on her feet. And at least she didn't need inserts or have her feet amputated. Quietly, she combed at her hair. At least she wasn't stuck in that chair.

Her lips parted as she let out a quiet breath. She had to go clear her head, tugging at her gray shirt the young woman walked out of her dorm and out into the morning. She hadn't known what had drawn her outside let alone to the Grounds Keeper's shed. Usually, she detested the outdoors since she had grown up in a world of concrete and towers. Her gentle arms swished as she walked forward lost in her thoughts for a while. Blinking, she looked up and her eyebrows rose up. What in the world was that?

A stop sign?

Being the curious little soul that she was Louisa decided to investigate. Ooo! She was going to play detective. Walking forward, her tiny feet pounded on the ground as she bit down on her plump lower lip. Her hands moved behind her back and the former dancer closed in Saint and his art work.

Inspecting it she rubbed at her chin as she stopped a few feet from where he was sitting. "Hmmm..." she breathed quietly as her almond eye closed and she tilted her head to the side. Both her hands moved to make the shape on an L as she boxed the art work behind the boy. Paying him no mind at first but then she dropped her hands and shoved them into her jean pockets. "Uh huh..." Nodding she took a step backwards and drew in a tiny breath. Her eye finally opened up.

"I see, I see where you're going with this," Louisa grinned a Cheshire cat smile. "And s'all very very good but...." She took a step backward. "Y'got the words wrong," pointing at the die part she shook her head as though it was as clear as day! "It's s'posed to say, in da name of love." Her shoulders rose up to her cheeks as she rocked her slender hips and gentle shoulders from side to side. The four foot something teen leaned forward, no longer feeling that bad.

Words: 796
Notes: This is my very first thread on this website. <3
Tagged: To mee~ Yeeeheee
Credits: Oh just some pictures~ By Swanky I believe. Lyrics are from the godling Bowie.[/color]

[marco]

Well thats right, I may have faked it.
And I wouldn't be caught DEAD in this place.

The wind was marvelous. Whenever it blew, it made him feel like he was more into the book.Where you read a book should be based on what the book was a about. At the moment, Alice was in the house; fetching the fan and gloves for the White Rabbit. She had drunk the bottle with no label, and was growing like crazy. Why did that have to do with where he was? Clearly it was a book about animals and crazy activities that they partook in, along with a blonde little girl that was possible doing acid. Saint was an odd kid, whether he liked referring to himself as such or not, and had partaken in illegal activities only moments before sitting down and reading a book; listening to the sounds of natures as he read the book, drifting off to his own little world where no one and nothing could bother him. Sure it didn't match up perfectly, but until you could point out the path to Wonderland, this was the closes he was getting to the odd likes of the place. Though, if you did know where the magical land existed, he would gladly take your directions and set off on an adventure.

Marco wasn't exactly an observant one, he didn't spot a mouse from a distance of a mile; or anything to that extent. But when you heard the sound of feet coming, and you were right next to spray cans; mix with his past, he was definitely alert. Of course, Saint wasn't scared. The gang was in his past, he wasn't worried about them at this moment. Even Travis, king of the retards himself, wouldn't dare enter a federal area looking for trouble. So icy blue pools flicked up from his book, looking at a small girl looking at him. But at a more observant glance, because I never said that he wasn't observant at all, Saint could easily tell it was not him she was looking at. It was his art. If it wasn't the fact she was looking at it, with her fingers making the shape of a square, and the fact that she would occasionally make a sound to show she was analyzing it; it was the fact that she hadn't said anything to him yet. Of course, Saint wasn't going to break the silence either. With a small sigh, he rested the book on his stomach yet again; and grabbed a small box that was next to the beverage. The box contained cigarettes, but being under age, he had to keep them in an actual small box. It wasn't colorful or anything, just the word "Pictures" on it, so it seemed like nothing big if their room was ever check. Pulling out one of the sticks, he placed it in between his lips; and set fire to the tips. Looking rather bored with the girls antics, he took a drag and placed the box and lighter to the side, before his soft eyes were back on her. Though they wanted to hold a harsh tone, they never would.

Finally, she spoke. Letting one of his knees stretch out, and then resting the wrist of the hand that held the cigarette on the knee that was up, he waited till she was completely done talking. As she said something about he word being wrong, he gave a small laugh at the thought. Sure, everyone made a typo or spelling mistake now and then, but Saint would never mess up on something as important as tagging a wall. Especially not a grammatical or spelling error. He was too smart for that, or at least that was what he thought. So his eyes didn't leave the girl at all, until she finished the sentence. Raising an eyebrow, he put the cigarette back in his mouth and took another drag from it. "Haha, brilliant." He said, exhaling the smoke as he did so. It was a rather emotionless tone, with no actual laughter or sarcasm in it. "But you see, this is a work of realism. Love, love is but an emotion. Something that can come and go. It isn't real, nor is it fake. But death, death is as real as it can get. For it can end a life, if only to prove it is real." He spoke, lifting the book back up and starting to read again. He was only holding it with one hand, the other had brought the cigarette to his lips again to repeat the actions he had been doing with it.

"Of course, one could argue that love can start life; seeing how it generally produces children." Saint stated, mainly to himself. He didn't care if he had cut her off from, he didn't know if he had or not, he was still reading and talking at the same time. "But they would be wrong. Sex, sex is real. Pointless, most the time, but real nonetheless. A fleeting moment of passion for a eighteen year commitment, or until they're ditched on the street, hospital; or killed before born." Some might say Saint was depressing, and it was pretty much true. With his last words, he took another drag and let out the smoke, flipping the page of his book. He was talking about the abandonment of children, the killing of fetuses, and yet he held no emotion on his face; except the soft look his eyes gave. It was just another conversation to him. "So is there a reason you're out here, or are you just wondering around to put a meaning to a day that has no reasoning but to prolong a life?" Saint repeated the steps with his cigarette, not even looking up from his book as he spoke to the girl.

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Words: 961
Notes: I love Saint when he is in one of his moods XD
Tagged: Louisa Cho!
Credits: Banner, Apples <3333 Thread name - Pencey Prep. Lyrics under banner - Panic At The Disco.[/size][/center]

[louisa cho]

And when I get excited
My little China girl says..
"Oh baby just you shut your mouth"
She says, "Shhhhh...."

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Her nose twitched when she smelled smoke. She was brought out of her Steven Speilberg moment and brought back into reality! He was smoking? Oh dear, why did all the creative ones have to some? Louisa didn't smoke only because it caused wrinkling, like worrying she tried to not do too much of that either. She wanted to look young for as long as possible even if she did still get confused for a freshman quite often.

It was because of how she looked, she looked so young so people assumed that she was as untainted and innocent as freshly fallen snow. It was also the way that she spoke as well, her voice was a high soprano and the words she tended to use were simple and nonsensical.

Her pointer finger moved towards her lower lip as she feigned shock when the younger boy started to smoke. She thought about commenting about lung cancer, but seriously they all got that talk in the second grade. Besides, she wasn't there to preach to him. She was there too do whatever it was she wanted to do.

Louisa thought that perhaps she should have stayed in bed or maybe gone to eat first. Her stomach growled angrily at her for neglecting it. When she got bored of the boy child she would leave for food. Maybe they were serving something nice an edible, being a cook Louisa enjoyed fine dining. Not like what they served in school cafeterias.

"Well, sure then if you don't like it there's all sorts of other things to write there." The little lady plopped down before she stretched out like a kitten. Smiling, her eyes closed half way and the Asian girl then decided to continue, "Like. Stop! Hammertime." Because Louisa was in a good mood she decided that everyone should have been in a good mood too. When Louisa was happy then the entire world was happy. Rolling on her back the little lady's eyes closed and she kicked her Mary Jane's off her petite feet, socks along with it. Her dark hair haloed the girl and she listened to the young man.

Wow, what a Debbie Downer. "But realism's boring," she murmured. "Everything's real. But life interprets life doesn't it?" Living in her own little world was where it was at. Her eyes closed and she listened to him. Just to annoy him she murmured, "I don't think death is real." Waving her hand she yawned. "This whole place this world..." It was all quite stupid. It was all just an illusion so therefore death had to have been one as well. The little lady rolled onto her taut stomach and she stared up at him. Crossing her arms she rested her chin on her slender arms.

"Just...Shh sir, shhhh," smiling, the young girl's eyebrow rose up as she watched him and waited for a reaction. It could be from a plethora of choices from amusement to anger. Humming "Golden Afternoon" to herself she listened to him and occasionally nodded. One of her eyes opened in a cat like manner as she stared up at the young man. He eyebrows knit towards each other. Hm, if she wanted to go be depressed or whatever she would have hung out by herself or even just decided to lie in bed all day. Reaching up she rubbed at her eye with her delicate hand. The cook yawned quietly.

A fleeting moment of passion eh? Well, she couldn't battle him on that statement for he was very true when it came there. How come guys could be studs no problem but then that made a girl a slut? She was about to drift into her own thoughts until she realized that it was indeed her turn to speak.

"Ho ho ho," she covered her mouth up with her slender hand and rolled her eyes back. Dark hair hung along her forehead and she grinned before she glanced over at him once more. Her tiny button nose crinkled up and she shook her head. "Oh I suppose I'm just enjoying this prolonged shitty piece oh life," she replied in a sing song tone voice. The little lady tapped her feet together as she crossed her ankles. She could walk, as she had almost forgotten.

"I like it when Alice is in court," she pressed her plump lips together. "Makes me think of the shitty piece oh life," smiling sweetly as though she had just hugged a kitten she leaned her gentle cheek on her arm once more. "the innocently only get prosecuted and punished for crimes that they didn't commit." Sitting up she kept her hands before her as she bat her eyes a few times.

Both of her hands were brought in front of her as though she were reading a book herself. "You wouldn't like Napoli," she commented. Her legs were tucked beneath her and the little lady chirped, "If you keep smoking one day you might sing like David Bowie." Winking, she thought about old singer. When she thought about it a lot of people who smoked sang as well. Or they liked music. Or motor cycles. One of the two she could never be truly certain. Angeleyes glanced up at Saint and she murmured something quietly beneath her breath.

Words: 885
Notes: There might be a betch fight or a freindship here I'm not sure what will happen
Tagged: To mee~ Yeeeheee
Credits: Oh just some pictures~ By Swanky I believe. Lyrics are from the godling Bowie.[/color]