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Post by demo on Apr 14, 2008 1:26:36 GMT
 
maybe ethanol is methadone
for oil addiction. maybe we'll all go green
in desert shades of camouflage.
status__finished
tag__opeeennn!
What eighteen year old girl in her right mind would be walking around at seven in the morning by choice? None other than Demo Moore. In case her wardrobe for the day wasn't strange enough - blue plaid pants with green chucks and a neon yellow The Matches shirt - her general bahavoir was just altogether odd. She'd skip every so often, or just randomly sit down and stare off at the sea, or walk backwards. Demo was a strange girl, to be sure. But, at least cut her the break that she didn't just wake up and decide to take a walk; she and sleep hadn't been on good terms lately and she had been up since two anyway. She was in a bubbly mood, wanting to just be hyper and get into a bit of trouble. But, there wasn't much for the girl to do at this hour. She figured maybe it'd give her some much needed time to just clear her head.
At this point, thoughts were dangerous. She was scared to be left alone with the panic-proned wasteland that was her mind. Only the night before she had had at least four panic attacks, and more than anything she was scared to the core of having another one. She tried to stray her mind from the irony that she could enduce an attack by being scared of an attack. More than anything, this should stand as a warning; when you're on prescription drugs, take them. She had the crazy idea this morning that she could go a whole day without taking anything. She was all too tempted to scrounge into her backpack she carried, as always, and save herself from this emotional agony but decided that was weakness. She was letting the diseases win. She wouldn't let them control her anymore. She just wanted to be free. The withdrawal had yet to set in, and once it did, as so many times before, she knew she would fail. The overcoming symtoms would prove too much for the small girl to handle. A shudder tormented her spine as her pace slowed.
Where was she going? No, not along this road. Where was she going with her life, why was she here? She didnt understand why she had decided to change everything, let it all go. She felt lost, lonely. She was used to getting evicted by now, getting kicked out. So now, she was like a nomad; taking almost everything she owned with her; her guitar and her backpack. This way, no matter what happened at least she could function without ever having to go back to wherever she was dwelling. Too many times as a child had she been too afraid to come home, too afraid to retrieve the material things that meant the most to her. She had learned, because of this, a lot about life. She had learned to let go. The only thing she truely could not live without, was her guitar. She was who her guitar was. Music was like air to her.
The girl finally found a spot a litte off the road by a thicket of trees and proceeded to remove her beloved Takemine, whom she had named Derby, from it's case and play. It wasn't much of a song, a vaguely recogniseable chord progression followed by a laid back solo. She wasn't the person to sit out and beg for money, proclaim her talent. She would much rather play where she couldnt be repremanded of judged. Demo hated being judged, though one might not guess given her carefree hyper attention-grabbing behavior.
Of course, when speaking of drawing attention it is only proper that one would stumble upon the girl. Well, in this case three. She thought she was playing quietly enough as to be alone, not to wind people towards her. She was approached from behind by three males, who's presence was still unknown to her. Her terrified screams as her guitar was stripped from her were muffled by a navy blue bandanda over her mouth too tightly. She squirmed around in pain, trying desperately to escape the fate she had seen already, that she couldnt face again. Was her luck really this bad?
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Post by kynan on Apr 18, 2008 9:54:36 GMT
[[ RAWR. Kynan to the rescue. With perfectly pure intentions. ]]
Early morning. Well, early by any normal teen's standards. Seven o'clock was an optimal time for deep sleep, yet those confounded things known as alarm clocks were involved in a worldwide conspiracy to keep the generation of tomorrow from getting the rest they needed. Damn them. Damn them all to hell. If such a momentous occasion ever happened, Kynan would be at the fore of the movement, deadset keen on abolishing the abominations that caused so many problems in today's society. It would be a deed that would benefit all of mankind. Many people seemed to disagree, namely, the older people, but even their label immediately discounted the significance of their opinions. The older people. Thus, they were weird, and thus, it didn't really matter what they thought. Every teen lived to oppose the totalitarian dominion of the older people.
Especially the ones called teachers. They were a particularly nasty breed, Kynan had discovered very early in his life. Every single one of the foul creatures had a heart (or something vaguely resembling one) deeply rooted in darkness, and made it their sole purpose to cause damage to the bright young minds of tomorrow. Additionally, for some reason completely unknown to the Hathaway boy, they had a tendency to simply loathe him with all their red-pumping-thing-in-their-chest-that-keeps-them-alive. He didn't see why they acted that way to him. He was a perfectly likeable fellow, with maybe one or two black marks next to his name, but still, it was nothing significant. Ol' Kynan was a pathetic failure when it came to self-evaluation.
So, here he was, on a school morning, at seven in the morning, having just decided that he would not trek to the nest of those evil teacher creatures, school, and would spend the day milling about instead. Bae had just whacked him upside the head told him he was an idiot, but well, that was Bae, and everyone knew that Bae had issues. Big issues. Issues that were, fortunately, not heriditary. As he walked down the street, he thought he heard the sound of strumming: a guitar or something. Looking around, Ky searched for the source of the music. It wasn't anything amazing, but at least he wasn't looking for the player so he could smash their guitar. He'd done that before, more times that he wanted to think about. He called it a service to the community. His brother called it an anger problem. See? His brother had issues.
His search led him to a small group of trees off the main road, where a girl was sitting there, playing the guitar. A fairly pretty girl, mind you. Not one that he'd jump off a cliff for (few would ever convince him to do that), but not one that he would just ignore either. He wasn't the only one who had noticed her apparently, as three men also approached her. The fact that three of them were trying to come onto her at once set off some warning bells in Kynan's head, and he ran towards her, wanting to shout out something to warn her, but it was too late. The three men grabbed her, and gagged her mouth, without even eliciting a scream. The blonde stopped, unsure of what to do. He was not a scrawny kid, but he wasn't the Incredible Hulk either. How the heck was he supposed to take on three men and get away with the girl? He had to use his powers but...
Kynan closed his eyes and tried to focus, screwing up his eyes in concentration, but nothing happened. Damn things, why do they not work now, of all times... He never really had any trouble using them when he wanted to piss Brody or Bae off, or even his sisters. All he had to do was think of some prank to pull on them and voila, time stopped around him. Wait... prank? It seemed rather strange, but Kynan didn't have much to lose here, that girl wasn't going to get help from anywhere else. He tried to empty his mind of that outrage at what the men were doing, not that it worked much, but more importantly, his mind went into the '>=D' mode his friends and family had come to know and find insanely annoying.
Kynan ran towards the men again, but now, they had stopped moving, and the girl had ceased struggling. Everything around him turned a dull grey, and as his feet hit the grass, the imprints his shoes left didn't fade. Time had stopped for everyone and everything around him. With a spectacular tackle, Kynan knocked one man over, then he gave a tug to the other one, so that he toppled over and fell on the first man. The last man, Kynan grabbed his arm, stuck it down the back of his pants, pulled the fingers around the underwear, and then yanked the arm up sharply. That was them taken care of, but then there was still the girl...
There wasn't much time left, at most another second or two, and he could not get the girl away in time, but still, he had to try. Kynan spun around and reached out to pick up the girl so he could try and run, but as he did so, some of his lack-of-grace kicked in and he fell, hands outstretched, onto the girl. Oh, and that was right as colour flooded back into the world around him, signalling that the temporal stasis had worn off. Shit.
[[ Eh... so just to clarify... to Demo and the men, it'll seem like they suddenly appeared in their new positions, it'll be impossible to understand, and it's pretty hard to envision I reckon. So two men end up on top of each other, one man is giving himself a wedgie, and a strange blonde haired boy has suddenly appeared our of thing air a few inches away from Demo and is falling on top of her. ]]
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Post by demo on May 18, 2008 23:45:27 GMT
I could wait around for the dust
to still, but i dont believe that it ever will
status__unfinished
notes__ahh. i took forever. sorryyy
As if being a teenager weren't hard enough, Demo had to go get herself into this kind of trouble. Always. Normal days were completely absent from her life to opulant with drama. And when you throw in her terrifying expiriances with the tainted, it just made life all the more complicated. School was something she had given up a couple years ago. Once she hit sixteen, she dropped out. Her guitar was all she loved, all the needed. So long as she had Derby, she was fine and all was right with the world. Once they had taken her beloved guitar away Demo found herself in a rut. She had come to a point where she stopped putting her faith in people, just herself and her talent. She knew she had it, and that was all she needed to make it through her life. She was close to almost making it. Not that the music business was fair in that respect... You could have all the talent in the world and never even come close to making it. But she was determined, and she wasnt about to let anything or anyone even think of taking this away from her.
Moving to a foreign coountry was hard enough to begin with, nonetheless when you are completely alone other than a piece of wood and some steel. Once she came to the realization that there was nothing for her back in the states - in the aspects of her career anyway - she came here. To a country where she didnt even know the language. Or a single person. Rather sad, yes?
Anyway, on to the moment. The scene was of the sort she tried her best to ignore the drama of. In her mind, if it hurts, ignore it, hide from it. There was no middle ground or acceptance. Demo was not good at dealing with pain or hardships, not anymore. She didn't know where the men had come from, or what their intentions were, but she was sure they were not of the kind sort. No one's seemed to be these days. The world seemed forever slipping from the girl's grasp and people were shady and more unpredictable than she could ever let on to. She had believed for so long in the pure good she believed was in all people, the pure good that would come in at the appropriate time. Her theory was more so for her own sanity and hope than anything, as long as she could believe in something, she was happy. But even her simple principles seemed to grow more dull as the days wore by.
She thought for a moment that maybe she had blacked out, when the men suddenly appeared in such states it was almost comical. She thought this, until, of course, there was a force on top of her that literally seemed to have come out of no where. She allowed herself to believe for a moment it was okay, he had helped her, right? A crimson color tainted her cheeks for a brief period before her face flushed of all color completely and she looked rather terrified. Who said he was helping her? She tried to calm herself, but if the case was the worst - as it usually was for her - she wasn't prepared for that.
She dug her nails into the dirt, attempting desperately and pathetically to free herself from the situation. The danger wasn't yet over, was it? Suddenly her attention slipped from her well being to that of her beloved. "Derby..." She murmered the name as if it was to be the last word to part from her lips. Her careful voids searched desperately for the mahogony guitar, hoping against hope there was no critical damage done to it. Where would she go if that were the case? Derby was all she had. And she wasn't about to let that sorry guitar go without a cause of epic proportions.
Her pleading eyes darted back to this unknown male. Well, if Derby was gone she had nothing else to lose.. "W-what..." She stuttered, pausing regain some composure. "What j-just... happened?" Her tongue danced behind her teeth, trying to find the words her mind couldn't compensate for. "Please d-don't... I mean," She paused again, she was at his disposal now. "If you want money or.. something.. I'm broke.. b-but.. I--I can get you some.. j-jus..just please don't... please don't hurt me..."
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