Bored to Death {Open}

[Alex]

Blakely Delcott_♥

I

[/font][/size]t was not often the young woman found herself strolling through the gardens. Actually, this had to be a first. Blakely wasn't one for nature, and though she loved receiving flowers from boys, she didn't not have any interest in seeing how lovely they were growing from the ground. Besides, it was the beauty, or even the aroma, that Blake liked about receiving flowers, it was purely the thought. She all but detested the garden. Pretty flowers were a symbol of women's lowliness in the world, saying that all women care about is pretty things. In truth, it was partially true, even for Blake. She took pride her beautiful face, lovely figure, and fancy clothes, but that wasn't all there was to her, or many other girls. To some, perhaps, beauty was all that mattered, but not to all, and in her own way, Blake was rebelling against the stereotype.

So, if she didn't much like the gardens, why was Blake slowly making her way among the gorgeous flowers and bushes? Because of her dislike, the garden was one of the only places she had not explored in her time at Florence's Academy for the Young, that and the West Wing, where girls were strictly forbidden. Of course, she did a lot of things that were strictly forbidden, and she did plan on eventually finding a way to sneak in there, perhaps to do more than just look around. Blake was exploring the garden simply because she was bored, and she'd never been there before.

She had to admit the flowers were pretty. The way the different colors all mixed together with the green, and when the sun hit the leaves just right, it was a marvelous sight. Looking down at the gown she had selected that morning, Blake smiled; not too wide, just the turning up of the corners of her mouth in a satisfied grin. The dress was pure silk, and perfectly fitted to her form by the best tailors her mother could find. Though she received very little attention as the seventh daughter, her family was still rich, and her mother was self conscious enough to make sure that all of her children received only the best clothing and jewelry. The dark blue threads complimented her olive skin tone, and the sun made the silver trimming glitter brilliantly. With her hair falling gracefully in brown curls down her back, she was a sight to rival the flowers, and she knew it.

As she padded deeper into the maze, it occurred to Blake that she would be very difficult to find here. The thought brought both sadness and a sense of triumph. It was a little depressing that she would probably not come across someone while she roamed. She was a people person to her very core, she loved being around people, needed to be around people, especially boys. If she had her boy on her arm, it was a safe bet that she was the happiest she would be all day. But hopefully someone else would be wandering the gardens, and maybe stumble into her path, because walking alone was never fun. But there was another side to not being able to be found. The gardens had suddenly become another place Blake could do what she wasn't supposed to: interact with boys on a more intimate level. The boat on the lake had provided shelter for her and many of the male population, as she was sure it had also provided for the others in her clique, and perhaps for others in different cliques. And now she had another hideout. That fact caused her slight grin to widen into a full blown smile, pouty pink lips opening to reveal pearly white teeth.

And if only she would come across someone, there would be no reason for the afternoon to have a trace of sadness to it, and she would be able to cure her boredom.
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[Rain]

Ah, flowers. They were something Eli could always count on to be there, and there were so many different varieties. Tulips, azaleas, daisies, sunflowers, and of course, the famous roses. They were, on most occasions, better company than humans, so as he strolled along, watching the yellow tulips bend to the wind, he grinned at the vacant horizon before him. There was no one in sight, unless you counted the cloud drifting above him that resembled someone's face. He did his best to ignore it, for it was a rather disturbing sight if he thought about it too much. It gave him that feeling that someone was watching him, and while that might be something others would find flattering, he thought it was unnerving.

Of course, there were always those spiritual types of people that insisted the dead "watched over" him and the rest of the world. He tried not to dwell on that, for not only did he doubt it was true, but he just didn't want to mull over whether a dead person might be watching him or not while he was, say, taking a dump. The feeling that these ghosts could watch him always somehow made him think they could read his mind as well. In that case, he could imagine Ellie laughing her ass off at him right now. To his surprise, the thought didn't depress him, but amused him. His mother would have said this insulted Ellie's memory, but he hadn't spent mornings, afternoons, and evenings with her.

He yanked his thoughts out of the clouds and away from Ellie for the moment. He had to stop thinking about her all the time. It was unhealthy. It probably had something to do with the fact that he had no friends at this school, therefore giving him more time to think about things dead and gone, to let remorse wash over him. She was smart enough--she probably would have gotten into Florence. He imagined them walking along this path together, discussing the teachers. She would make some witty remark about Bevoretti...

Ah, damn. There went his perfect solitude. In the distance was a girl of about his age, he imagined by her looks. He was quick to notice, yes, she was rather attractive, but it didn't detract from the fact that she had inadvertently interrupted his alone time. But Eli, a little voice in his head piped up, alone time is your only kind of time. He silenced the annoying little voice, imagining a mallet coming down upon it and whacking it unconscious. The point was, she was an intruder, but she had no way of knowing that. After all, he didn't own the gardens. He couldn't very well tell her to get lost.

He was moving closer to her. There would be no way around it. He would have to greet her somehow. Otherwise he'd end up coming off has standoffish--he couldn't have that happened again. Too many people in this school thought he was a snob already, most likely. He never spoke to anyone, so if he ignored this young lady, she would likely help the rumors along. Wasn't that what girls liked to do? Gossip?

"Hello," was his begrudging greeting. He looked her in the eye for a quick second, and then shifted his gaze. He searched through pleasantries in his brain for something generic to say. "What're you doing here?" Rude and standoffish. Check. He was such an idiot. "I mean, how's it going?"

So very articulate in his mind, so very socially challenged when he actually used his vocal chords. Maybe he would be better off as a mute.

[Alex]

Blakely Delcott_♥

T

[/font][/size]here!! Blake smiled even wider, if that was possible. It stretched her face, detracting from her beauty, and adding ugly smile lines. Good thing she couldn't see her face, or she would be absolutely appalled. But, since she had no idea what she looked like, she continued to smile much too widely as she walked down the path toward the boy coming toward her. He was about her age, and rather handsome at that, could the day get any better? Automatically she put an extra swing in her hips as she walked, and straightened her shoulders, batting her eyelashes just a bit more often than was necessary.

Her smile faded just a tad once the boy approached her. The first words out of his mouth were rude, and Blake didn't take kindly to rude words. At least, when they were directed at her or her friends, other wise she didn't give a crap. She might even be the one dishing said rudeness. When a teacher wasn't around, though, because she wasn't a fan of getting in trouble, and the headmistress could be very cruel with her punishments.

But there was no one around to stop her from replying with some vicious, angry comment. Except that the boy stopped himself, and tried to sound less mean. Damn, that meant she could be mean without looking like a bitch, and that was the last thing she wanted right then. No, what she really wanted was to make a friend, or possibly something a bit more intimate. Despite the headmistress' best efforts to keep her girls ladylike and innocent, Blake was not a virgin, and she didn't have to be particularly close to the guy to sleep with him. He just had to be remotely good looking, and taller than her. This boy happened to be both, so she was going to try her best not to mess this up.

"I'm fine." She said, answering his question. She held out her hand, "I'm Blake." Her mother would be horrified. Even though Blake hadn't received as much attention as her other sisters, her mother had still taught her proper courtesies, and she was aware the proper thing would have been to curtsy to this young man. Ha, not going to happen. Not even if the headmistress had been around, she was not about to admit that guys were better than girls, even if this society thought they were.
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[Rain]

She introduced herself, surprising him as she held out her hand instead of curtsying. Well, that was refreshing. Reminded him of Ellie, who would curtsy upon introduction, and then stick her tongue out at the prig as soon as they turned their back--

No! He had to stop this, this addiction to memories. They came without being called, suffocating him throughout the day, letting him plunge into things that had long faded and rotted. And he still clung to them, like old Christmas sweets that had gone bad. And yet, they were still candy canes, weren't they? Their sugary delight was gone, but they were nice to look at. He still wanted them hanging on his mantelpiece. Yes, the image of Ellie was imprinted in his mind's eye forever, and it would be difficult to shake, so he kept it there. It was a source of comfort, especially when he spent his days without social interaction. He could pretend she was there, sitting in the armchair beside him, chatting about something that annoyed her.

Man, that was pathetic. Having conversations with someone who had been dead for six years. Maybe he had some sort of mental condition, one that he would have to get checked out. That would be interesting. Maybe he could pretend to have a mental condition, just so he could examine the other patients and get some intriguing writing material. But no, he didn't think anybody could fake that type of thing. The doctors would be able to tell. Besides, it wasn't worth it. The lying part he wouldn't mind, or even the risk of getting caught. But using the mental patients as something like test subjects without their knowledge was something he wasn't okay with.

He snapped out of his reverie, remembering that Blake's hand was still extended towards him. With an awkward movement of his hand, he shook it. It was very soft. Then he remembered how annoying it was when people shook with hands like a limp face. Was his handshake like that? Oh, damn it, it totally was. Without thinking, he strengthened his hold, squeezing her hand in the process.

"Sorry," he muttered, snatching his hand away. Perhaps he should try to explain himself, but what was there to explain? 'Sorry, I thought you would find my handshake boring, so I thought trying to break your hand would make it more thrilling'? He decided to leave the matter alone. He rubbed his hands together, glancing around at the flowers. The brightness of the nearby sunflowers was irksome. He wanted them to turn their petals away. They made him feel like he was being watched, just like the cloud he'd seen earlier. Man, had he woken up on the wrong side of the bed. He'd never been in such a paranoid mood.

"So." He swung his arms, wishing she would make some conversation. "You...you're, uh...so, how old are you?"

Yeah, that was a safe road to take. It wouldn't open up any weird conversations, would it? He wasn't sure; he didn't know this girl. For all he knew, they could be discussing birthdays at one point, and then the next thing he knew, they could be on the subject of which foods gave them explosive diarrhea. He certainly never meant to steer conversations that way, but some people somehow managed to bend and twist them until they did. Maybe some people were just messed up that way.

Or, of course, there was the possibility that he knew as much about social lives as he did about shoe factories.