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Post by droodle on May 30, 2010 15:54:51 GMT -5
SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD• to believe there's someone else who could be • JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME
There was something oddly fascinating about playgrounds. Kathleen couldn’t remember ever having a real childhood of her own, or, so at least, none that depicted a care-free life of gorging on sweets or playing around with other children her age. As far as she could recall, she’d always been studying, whether it be English, an instrument, or something else that would prove to be, as her mother had put it, ‘a necessity for every wife-to-be.’ Her mother forbade any dirty knees or scratched elbows, and Kathleen had grown thinking it to be the status quo for every child.
That being said, one could only imagine how bewildered and perplexed she was with all of the metal and plastic contraptions around her. Currently, she found herself seated on the very top of the slide, her hands gripping the metal bars that surrounded her left and right side fiercely. Had she not left her purse on the ground, she would have been writing down the experience in her notepad in hopes that some of the material might be useable for another date and another poem. But, honestly, even if she had it with her, would she be able to write anyway? If she let go on the railings, surely she’d fall.
What would the fall be like?
It was a simple slope, but the landing looked less-than-gentle. Her jaw remained clenched as she mentally tossed around the pros and cons of letting go. With each passing moment, her breathing became more erratic. Her stomach began to do strange acrobatics which she was certain could not be healthy for her. She was a coward. She couldn’t let go.
At least she could admire the view from where she was. It was a fairly tall slide, all things considered.
Or maybe she was just really, really small.
Her brown eyes scanned the area thoughtfully as she observed the rest of the playground, and for a brief moment, she was thankful that nobody else had a desire to use the slide that day. She didn’t quite feel like having to relent her seat, and yet, at the same time, she felt as though it might be the only thing that would actually get her to propel forward and use the slide as it was intended: for sliding.
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Post by FINNEGAN TRAMBACK on Jun 7, 2010 15:38:53 GMT -5
How to make this boring day entertaining to Finnegan and Finnegan only, that was the goal for the next couple hours and the next couple of people. Generally the street rat would rely on others for amusement, strangers, friends, enemies, it didn't make a difference. As long as they had a lick of a personality he could always get something from them. Selfish perhaps, but whether it be a passerby or a victim himself, Finny could swear that he always heard an outside laugh resulting from his torturous teasing.
For his next act he planned to entertain a group of passing girls, they looked about 18 right? And you never know who finds a young man jumping off the high end of the swings impressive. Long legs propelled him forth, gaining speed as his audience grew near. He could tell they were only pretending to take little interest in him, eyes turned away from his and steps discreetly putting distance between themselves and Finny. Oh but not for long! Those manicured eyelashes and bright eyes would soon be wide for him, impressed and endeared by the mystery of their trench-coated stranger.
A cocky grin set the pace, and the moment he was at the highest peak that swing would tolerate, Finny took off.
However his plans were backfired when a puny piece of mulch scattered across the bare tanned leg of the alpha. He winced at the screech that passed her pouted lips, and raised an eyebrow at the identical expressions directed his way. ... so they were these types of girls, were they? The kind that assumed he was nothing more of a dirty mutt. The kind that weren't charmed or intrigued by his mystery, grace or charisma. Hmph, well he didn't need them anyway! By the look of their tight clothing and designer label bags they were far too high maintenance. Repeating that to himself, Finny simply rolled his eyes as they scuffled away, giggling and squealing about how positively creepy he was.
As if nothing ever happened, the boy wandered off, silently pushing passed the weave of swings as he spotted a purse laying perfectly in reach on the ground. As he bent to receive it the boy noticed a pair of legs slung over the top of the slide, and still with purse in hand went to investigate.
Obviously this was the girl's property, so he hide the pocketbook behind his back as he locked fingers together, rubbing the fabric with his thumb. It would be easy now to just walk away, shifting his body so that the girl couldn't see the purse as he descended. But with such a pretty face in an adorable little pickle, Finnegan took the light side that day and spoke up instead, "I think the next step is to let go, lassie," he grinned at her, bowing his head slightly and watching carefully for a reaction.
 ATTIRE
[/color] tan trenchcoat, gray t-shirt, jeans, black sneakers. CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. LYRICS you're gonna go far, kid - the offspring. NOTES c: sorry this took longer than promised! WORD COUNT 484 [/center][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
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Post by droodle on Jun 8, 2010 2:03:33 GMT -5
SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD• to believe there's someone else who could be • JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME
Maybe she could slowly inch her rear end backwards and slink off the way she came. It would be a definite failed attempt at something so mundane that even a three year old could do it, but everybody had their failures before they actually accomplished something, right? And, well, there were always other toys she could try out.
There was the swing set.
That she might flip backwards on.
There was the teeter totter.
That needed two people in order to operate.
There was the jungle gym
That would not be decent to maneuver around on in a skirt.
She probably should have come better prepared. That was it. Just simply wasn't dressed appropriately for the occasion. Instead of her nice, lavender summer blouse, she should have worn a t-shirt. Instead of her flowy, somewhat prudish looking skirt, she should have worn pants or corduroys or whatever else it was that people wore to the park. She certainly hadn't expected dropping by the playground today. Her feet had led her there themselves.
Softly whining to herself, she glanced up in time to see a flock of pigeons settling down onto the ground. Something in her gut wrenched a bit, and she suppressed the urge to jump down from the slide on the spot in order to go and chase them. How bizarre.
In her momentary lapse of mental wellness, she hadn't noticed the man until he spoke. Oh. Well, darn.
"Lassie...?" Was he from around here? She'd never heard anybody use that term before. Not for a long time, anyways. It was a bit jolting. She turned her head to get a better look at him, clearing her throat while doing so. "Ah- yes. Yes, that... definitely would be the next logical step, wouldn't it?" she asked, giving a light, meek laugh that made herself even more nauseous. Oh, dear lord. Now she even had an audience. This couldn't get any worse. It really couldn't. It wasn’t that she was shy. Kathleen, while she was an introvert, was not shy. She simply didn’t know how to go about holding a regular conversation with others. “I actually think I’ve changed my mind. I don’t know if I want to go on the slide.” It sounded so, so pathetic, but at least she was honest.
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