Innocence is Bliss [SOUTH]

[Jimmeh!]

She sat alone in the art room, like she always did on this day of the week. Drawing usually, but today, she was putting together a photo album, following, somehow, enough money being scrambled together to get her a camera. One of the few things that she'd ever really wanted. The only person she'd told was Kaelen. Dear, sweet, lovely Kaelen... She was going to have to have words with him about this, even though she absolutely loved the camera. They really couldn't afford this, especially being as this was actually quite a good one. Not top of the range, but still a very good piece of equipment, far better than the school's ones they used in photography lessons. She'd spent the best part of a week taking snaps of virtually everything, landscapes, objects, people, sunrises, sunsets. A few had been filed away, for a later date. Most of those were of Kae... She sighed as she thought about him, before returning to her work, sat on the floor, photo's scattered about her, a collage of scenes, each one lovingly captured and developed by her talented hands.

She knew full well she was smitten with Kaelen. She also knew full well how wrong it was, and how much her family would hate her for it. Particularly her father, who was so against even letting them see him initially. But Kae had won them over. Just like he'd won her heart... His charm, intelligence, and seemingly being an all-round 'decent guy' was just so compelling. Again, she sighed wistfully, knowing full well that she was forever condemned to love someone she would never be able to have. Joys of being seventeen. Why was it Kiera, or Moira, or even Aurora never seemed to suffer from this sort of thing?

Seemingly at random, slender fingers would snatch up another photograph, look it over, before picking a spot for it to reside forever. But in her seemingly haphazard selection, there was a perfect order. They weren't sorted chronologically. They were sorted by their emotive power, their artistic merit. The ones that caught her eye the easiest, and held her gaze, captivating her in some way were the ones that would make their way into the front, snapped into place in the album, patted down lovingly. This was her first, and she wanted not something dedicated to any one art form. She wanted a collection of great works. Something that was more unusual, something she would remember forever, so this wonderful gift from her love Kaelen would never be forgotten.

She sat with a serene smile upon her face, tapping her finger lightly against her lips, so lost in the myriad of scenes before her she failed to notice him sneak in silently through the door behind her. She began to hum a tune, hands running across the images, as though trying to glean which was most deserving of her gaze by touch. By feel alone. She sat back on her heels, before looking out of the window, surveying the tranquil scene outside. Perhaps she would have to draw later today too...

Speech: C02B2B
Other Speech: D55228
Main: F5A145
Emphasis: FDD86B

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[Deleted]

this is for the girl next door
who thinks she knows me
she adores the way my words feel just like home
but she don't know the sadness flow that pours out nightly
still I keep rolling the lonesome road out before me

I know myself to be a pinnacle of divine superiority, and it’s for that simple reason that I can occasionally deviate into some of the unsavory habits of those who I’ve come to judge with neither exception nor mercy - I will never touch a drop of alcohol, could never let myself stoop to quite that low of a descent from my state of elevation, but simple thievery isn’t beneath me when it suits my purposes, especially when it’s from people that don’t really need the material wealth of which I’m relieving them. Growing up in the gutter, learning to pickpocket is a rite of passage, not unlike the more fortunate children learning to ride a bike or tie their shoes. I still remember Auggie Dahl teaching Lyss and I how to slip someone’s wallet out of their pocket without them feeling a thing, both of us not a day over five years old and wide-eyed at his seeming worldy knowledge. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that my true talent lies in slipping things into places rather than slipping them out, but the same slumdog slyness is inherent despite my editing of its purpose.

Whatever my considerable skills of subterfuge may imply, however, I found that the task of scraping the funds for Cora’s birthday present was much more entertaining if I acquired them by taking the liberty of relieving Riley Lightwood of his lunch money every day for a few months. He was belligerent about it for a few days, but after one or two not-so-pleasant trips into the dumpster behind the cafeteria he was more than happy to surrender it when I asked. Still, even after spending a long stretch of time collecting donations, I’d come up a bit short with the big even just a few days around the corner. Luckily, the lockers at the training center are almost comically easy to pick, and most of the spoiled Career princes I train with don’t have to good sense to keep their valuables somewhere more secure.

The look on Cora’s face had been worth every effort when she saw the camera. While my usual rule in life is to work for no one’s satisfaction but my own, my cousins have always held a sort of soft spot that makes them exceptions. I had no idea what to look for when buying such a thing, but judging by her reaction and the fact that I’ve watched her run around school all day with the thing practically attached to her face, I did a good enough job.

I throw my books in my backpack and duck out of Calculus without a backward glance as soon as the last bell rings, wandering aimlessly down the hallway while the plebeians pass beneath my notice, occupied in their mediocre little lives. This is their existence, little rats, running mazes, having babies, buying a house with a picket fence. I can’t think of anything I would hate more. I spare a hair ruffle for Aurora and a moment to talk to Kiera about when she’s coming over to train next when I pass their lockers, but other than that I remain carefully aloof to my surroundings, the observant, omnipresent deity overlooking my domain, fearing nothing and –

“Baby, hi!”

Shit.

I hear Dahlia before I see her, a batshit-crazy blur of blonde curls and deranged smiles flying around the corner, and something close to panic sparks in my mind, eyes darting back and forth for possible escape routes. While indulging her obsession with me and keeping up the boyfriend pretense is useful, I have no desire to deal with her right now. Muttering a hasty goodbye to Kiera, I duck into the dearest hallway, attempting to get lost in the crowd and cursing my genetics for thinking that standing at nearly six-foot-six would give me any sort of advantage in life. The sterile hallways pass in a dizzying blur until I stop outside the art room, pulled to a halt by the sight of a familiar head of dark hair leaning over some project or another on a table. I grin, finally relieved at finding someone I wouldn’t mind spending time with.

I hover outside the door unseen until Cora stands up to go look at something on another table, quietly ducking into the room and sneaking within a foot’s distance from her. Still smiling (the action is rare, reserved only for her and occasionally one of her sisters), I dart forward and grab her round the waist, lifting her tiny frame off the floor and swinging her in a circle before dropping her unceremoniously. “Afternoon, Squirt. Making use of your birthday present?”

The pictures spread out on the table are of good quality, actually, interesting angles and carefully blurred focuses. Cora’s always had a knack for that sort of thing; she tried to teach me to draw a few years back but gave up after I could only produce half-decent stick figures and snapped a whole box of pencils in frustration. While I might be a divine force of destruction, I have an eye for beauty and can appreciate the talents of those who create it. Carefully, I run the pad of one skeletal finger along the outline of a silhouette recognizable as Kiera’s, hunched over a book and seemingly lost in thought.

“These are quite good, Cora,” I say absently, eyes travelling over a few more frames before flicking up in her direction and rolling skyward with my next statement. “I’m running from Dahlia. Can I claim sanctuary in here?”

this is for the girl next door
who thinks she loves me
she adores the voice that soars into her heart
but she don't know the sadness flow that pours out nightly
still I keep rolling the lonesome road out before me

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[Jimmeh!]

He was, without a doubt, one of the fastest, quietest moving people Cora knew. The way he seemed to glide across the floor, rather than stepping, as though the ground refused to allow his presence to be known. Or, more likely, Cora was just oblivious to the world around her. She had stood, to find some preservation film with which to cover the photographs, protecting them from dust, dirt and the ravages of time. A perfect image, in perfect condition. And of course, the moment she had laid hands on it, she found herself squealing in delight, spinning around the form of the only person she would ever permit to make her feel so small. Kaelen Dempsey. My Kaelen. How she wished she could say those words... She giggled as she was set down, before hopping up on the table, trying to even out the sheer discrepancy in height between the two of them.

'Ahuh. I'd be annoyed at your spending so much if I didn't love it so much. It's perfect! I mean, just look at it! It's beautiful! And with a selection of lenses too! Seriously, this is one of the best camera's on the market at the minute, without getting into the realms of the ridiculous of course.' She practically gushed over it, almost skipping back to where her scattered pile of images lay, only to be joined a few moments later by him. Her heart beat in fluttery little fits and starts, like it always did when she was alone near Kaelen. Watching him look on at her photography, at the image of Kiera, she had to repress the urge to sigh, and instead focused on getting the first few pages covered, before something ruined them. She brushed a few stray strands of hair over her ear, dislodged by his impromptu merry-go-round, a faint flush crawling across her cheeks at his praise.

'Awww, thanks Kae! It's all about patience, and positioning. And a bit of luck too.' She smiled at him, before the mention of that annoyingly clingy girl that hung off his every word, Dahlia, set her blood on edge. How she envied her. Oh how she envied her. And how she despised her for causing Kaelen such... Irritation, frankly. 'I'm running from Dahlia.' Her blood roiled at the thought that Kaelen felt he need to run from anyone. She didn't show it though. She was good at not showing her feelings on such matters. 'Of course Kaelen! What, she wanting another gross make-out session in front of everyone again?' Gross wasn't the term that actually sprang to mind for her. Torturous, agonising and soul-destroying were. The stark desire to be there instead, her mouth on his... It crushed as much as it lifted her mind to places she never even thought could be reached.

Still she looked as chipper as ever, poking Kaelen in the ribs before tugging him down to ground level, sitting on her heels once again. 'You can help me sort these out! Don't give me that look, I know the floor's not hugely comfortable, but first, it's the easiest place to lay everything out, and second...' She poked him in the ribs again, giggling a little. 'Someone is supposed to be hiding from a certain somebody else. And unlike me, you can't get lost in a crowd.' She stuck her tongue out at him, before returning to binding the completed pages. 'Just pick out some of the ones you like. I might, if you're lucky, let you keep a couple.' She grinned at him, hands working with deft precision, meticulous in their efforts to protect her artistry against time and wear, distracting her from the fact that she was alone with Kaelen while he was avoiding his girlfriend.

Speech: C02B2B
Other Speech: D55228
Main: F5A145
Emphasis: FDD86B

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