__was it her F A C E that invaded your M I N D?

[blythe]

<sup>The first thing Miss Natalya Rois Belladonna Fernandez Ruiz Benson noticed first about today was that it was not an ordinary day. It had begun with the sun setting and ended with the sun rising. It had begun with dinner and ended with breakfast. She undressed and then she dressed. She woke up for sleep, and rested for work.

Or, otherwise, Natalya slept the day away the day before and spent the night roaming the grounds of Florence's. If she came across a patch in the gardens illuminated by the paths of moonlight, she huddled over and gardened to the best of her abilities. If not, she simply wandered from tree to tree with her feet returning a visit to the earth, picking up dirt and seeds from one area and depositing them elsewhere unconsciously.

The evening always swayed more with her. Perhaps it was because she felt as if she had to be a descendant of Artemis, forever meant to glow under the moon, shine in nature and flourish in the company of deer. She proclaimed chastity, and Natalya followed suit, in love with the idea of being more like her idol. And so, despite, Demeter-like traits, Natalya became foremost a disciple of the goddess of the moon and hunt. And so there was really no surprise that she took advantage of any time to switch her sleeping schedule.

Eying the flickering of colors on the horizon and the lightening of the sky, the young woman assumed it was about time to head home and get ready to don her stuffy Florence's Academy issued uniform and begin scrubbing the halls on her hands and knees. One would think they'd constantly take advantage of her greenery skills, but she supposed too many times being caught daydreaming by the lake instead of hoeing the grounds might be the cause of it.

Regardless, she was more at home outside than inside breaking things, and so Natalya began to beg Apollo to turn his fiery carriage around and head back towards the east and spare her a few more hours. Each blending change from dark, glorious purple to striking oranges and pinks made her sigh in torn desire to praise the sunrise and curse it. So she simply adjusted her grass stained tunic, slipped her bag over her shoulder and slowly trekked back towards camp, stopping only to admire the faded names spotlighted by the sun's first rays.</sup>

[/b][/color] finished
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese
WORD COUNT !?: 405 words
NOTES !?: this sucks badly. D:
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]

[Poe]

A Man Named... KURTIS LOWE

My, my, my, Kurtis sure was out... early for him. Normally, he was tucked into bed, sleeping until the smells of a hot breakfast rose up and tickled his nose, arousing him to dress and go downstairs, to shovel food into his mouth and go about the mundane task of classes. But today, his schedule seemed a bit backwards...
Right after dinner, during their free period... lord that was hours ago now... he had started to feel his fuse run short as the younger boys ran back and forth, throwing a toy ball in the air, it had nearly been the last straw when they'd stepped on his pocket watch, which had been sitting on the floor next to him. He hadn't realized it had fallen out of his pocket. However, the headmaster was sitting in the room, staring at him as his face silently turned eight different shades of red and purple. Mr. Lowe had stood up quickly, the headmaster's cool gaze following him as he hurried out the door, not a word exiting his mouth. He hoped, as he ran down the hallway, feeling the anger slowly ebbing away, but still wishing to break free, that his Headmaster was proud of him, was silently applauding him where he sat.

Kurtis hadn't stopped as he'd burst out of the main doors to the school, throwing himself out into the August night air, breathing heavily, the magic coursing through his veins. And still, he hadn't stopped. He'd loosened his tie, unbuttoned his dress shirt for school, sprinting across the grounds, the required dress shoes pinching his toes. The ran blindly, the magic driving him as he ran through the maze in the school gardens, running past the cemetery where he was sure Cain, that... rather creepy ground's keeper watched him with amusement. He ran until he got lost in the woods.
And when he'd stopped he'd fallen to his knees, exhaustion overcoming his limbs. His grey eyes had fallen closed to the dark night, he cared not about the muddy ground on which he was sleeping, he only knew that as the tidal wave of fatigue fell upon him, he could finally stop running.

In all honesty, he was proud of himself. He had kept his explosive temper to himself, but even more than that, he'd not let the magic flow freely out of his fingertips, turning the ground beneath him to gold and silver. He thought that as he pushed himself up off the ground, looking toward the lightening sky, rubbing his eyes, and running his hand down his face. What had happened last night truly was something to be proud of, even if he was becoming more and more used to running away from situations instead of sticking around to fight... But being kicked out of Florence just wasn't an option. Not for his father, anyway. How late had he been out, anyway?

Clearing his throat, Kurtis looked down at his hands, gently rubbing the mud off of his palms, reaching down to brush it off of his black pants too. It didn't take long for him to give up, to simply come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a bit mud-stained and that the maids would have to work just a little bit harder at getting the spots out of his pants and shirt. Scraping as much of the mud off of the bottoms of his shoes as he could, he began to walk back through the forest, putting his arm to his mouth as it stretched wide in a yawn. He wove silently in and out of trees as he listened to the birds and other creatures beginning to wake up, watching their shadows dart across the damp forest floor. His joints popped as he walked, muscles sighing in relief as he moved, his body simply happy to be out of the curled up position that it had taken during the night.
Now that he realized he had never returned to Florence- the magic deciding to not compel to return to his rooms to sleep in a comfortable bed- he wondered how much trouble he would get in, or if they would over look it for his ability to hold in the anger... Probably not. A short, sharp sigh left his mouth, and he plodded on through the forest.

Finally he came to the oak tree, finally he was no longer lost. He stopped at its trunk, pausing to throw back his head, staring into the branches, watching the colors play off of the leaves, watching the faint light shine down through the limbs. Simply watching the natural magic unfold, he felt better- more at peace, and he pulled a breath through his lungs, listening to the angry rumble of his empty and under-nourished stomach disrupt the peace of the day. He looked away from the sky to continue walking toward the school, figuring he was only a mile or two away now. Maybe if he ran he'd be there in time for a hot breakfast before classes... He blinked slowly, his grey eyes catching a shadow, and he turned his head that way, jumping about a foot in the air.

Gah!" Kurt yelped, staring at the woman who was looking at the great tree as well. He'd seen her before, probably around the school. He could tell, just by looking at her, that she was a gypsy (a very pretty one at that...), but how she lived her life didn't bother him. He wasn't entranced like he was sure other men would be, he just stared, his heart-rate starting to slow again. "It's not right to sneak up on people, y'know," he mumbled under his breath, studying her quietly, knowing he really didn't have a right to correct her. She had done nothing wrong, but he did not like being scared like that. No sir, he did not like it at all.

[blythe]

<sup>Gah!" the voice of a young man exclaimed a random sound near at hand. Enough so to cause the young woman to tense and move a hand to grip her bag tightly, ready and willing to state her claim to the land more so than whoever felt like wandering at such and ungodly hour in the morning. Granted, she was out at this hour, but she was Natalya Benson, a silly little gypsy, not presumably one of the richer occupants of Florence's Academy. Her head tilted towards the sound of the voice, causing soft brown curls to cascade over one shoulder. Her jaw was set tight and defiantly as her eyes flickered over his face, taking in the light colored eyes of an unknown color distorted by the early morning light.

Her eyes moved from his eyes over his cheekbones, finally to the hair on his head and the slope of his shoulders. He didn't look to be older than her which meant except for the argument of class, he wasn't above her. That meant she really didn't need to bother too badly if the young man thought that she shouldn't be there. Of course, a night of pretending to be a goddess might have put her more than a little on edge, assuming things of people she couldn't even see properly for another half hour until the sun completely broke free of the horizon, and Apollo began on the rest of his journey to the other side of the world.

This wasn't like her. Assuming the worst of strangers wasn't an activity she commonly indulged in, and at once a blush of embarrassment spread from the base of her neck to over the caramel colored skin of her cheeks. He seemed to study her while she did the same. The silence was palpable; her hands could have molded it into figurines if she had had the inclination to project a sign of insanity to the stranger. Throat dry and hands fidgeting nervously, Natalya finally just licked her lips and moved to speak.

"It's not right to sneak up on people, y'know," was what he said before she could properly form the words. Was she being scolded? Her head flickered to the side to see if perhaps another person had come upon the tree that he could be speaking to, but it seemed that she was the intended recipient. The expression on her face twisted for a moment into faint indignation before smoothing out the frown lines on her forehead and stretching the corners of her mouth into a smile. She had made a mistake, surely. Perhaps that was the beginning of an apology.

"Oh, you don't have to apologise," she remarked pleasantly, relaxing the stance of her body. Her shoulders slouched into a more comfortable position and her arms unlocked from their position of holding the bag. With a newly freed hand moving to run fingers through her hair, she waited nervously to see if he'd say anything before taking a step backwards. "You're out a little early, aren't you? Won't you get in trouble?"</sup>

[/b][/color] finished!
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese
WORD COUNT !?: 516 words
NOTES !?: this sucks worse. D:
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]

[Poe]

A Man Named... KURTIS LOWE

Don't have to apologize? Kurtis blinked, watching the girl for a long moment as her words swirled across his mind, which was still sort of sluggish with sleep. A bit of a chuckle left his mouth, and he shrugged, choosing not to respond in any way other than: "Oh, well, forget what I just said then." At least he was smart enough to know that arguing with a gypsy that presumably knew more about the land than he did would not be a smart thing. Besides, a pretty thing like she would have to have big friends waiting for a status report back home, and Kurtis didn't want to be on the recieving end of someone's anger. Pinching his nose, he listened the the woman speak again, deciding that she wasn't much older than he. At least they'd come to the same conclusion about one another.

Get in trouble? Oh, most likely. I'm hoping not, I'm sure another trip to the Headmaster's office wouldn't look very good on my personal record, especially for running away. Not that I intentionally ran away, I sort of just lost track of time..." The boy blinked when he realized he sounded defensive, as if he felt that he had to justify what he did last night to the gypsy girl before him. He mentally shook a finger at himself, frowning slightly. There was no need... He was sure he'd never see her again after this. And she was no god, no queen, she couldn't condem him to death for sleeping under the stars last night instead of sleeping in his bed.
Kurtis looked down at his mud soaked pants with a frown, before looking back up at her, feeling more at ease himself when he saw that her stance had shifted into a more relaxed position.

Isn't it a bit early for you to be out too? Or are you really nocturnal, and I'm keeping you from your bed?" Ah, bed, it seemed like such the perfect place to go. His eyes wandered across her caramel skin again, before looking to her own, holding her gaze for a long moment, daring her to challenge him. The problem with Kurtis, is that he was so high and mighty about anything that he did. He wanted to rule the world someday, so he figured, he might as well start now, with Florence, and all of the fine school's inhabitants.
He began to think of Jon, as if the thought was brought on at the sight of a lovely young woman. The Brain would most likely be ashamed of the thoughts he was having. Thoughts that were triggered by the word bed and the look of her skin in the ever-dancing, ever-changing sunlight. He snorted at some unspoken joke, shook his head, and looked away from Tali, out toward the gardens, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dnd then, as if suddenly remembering something, Kurtis's gaze whipped back to her, his grey eyes scrutinizing her for the longest moment. "You look awefully firmiliar. I wouldn't know you from the school, would I?" She did look a bit like one of the maids, but out here, wild and free she seemed so much different. Now, he'd never voice it, but he prefered her this way... In her, ah, natural state.

ooc: >> That didn't suck. This sucks. Are we gonna argue about this continually? Cuz I really think you should give in to the fact that you're awesome. :]

[blythe]

<sup>"Oh, well, forget what I just said then." the young man had replied with a chuckle she assumed had nothing to do with what she said. Now that she considered it, he did look a tad tired. Perhaps waking up early wasn't something he was used to, preferring to laze away the day like Natalya. Oh, well, people shouldn't try and make conversation when they're dead on their feet; it only makes things awkward for the wired person they might be conversing with (i.e. Natalya Benson). To humor him, though, she nodded and didn't turn to leave him by the great oak alone.

When he began speaking again, Natalya dropped the hand from her hair and shifted the bag on her shoulder to the other one, alleviating the stress that was beginning to build up on her aching muscles. It became apparent, that the young man had no qualms about talking to her for as soon as she expected him to leave in the indignation of a bruised, fragile ego, he began rambling on about the Headmaster, alluding to frequent visits and the fact that he had spent the night outside. A quick glance at his pants confirmed that idea.

"Those should be cleaned before the mud sets in further," she remarked at the end of all that before sliding her eyes back up to his face. If you wanted to give those to me later so that I could wash them before someone notices..." The offer hung off the unfinished sentence, dying in silence to let him answer and then say anything else he like before the bubbling desire to burst into wordy speeches and purple prose defied her dammed mouth and spilled forth. Oh, she did love to talk. Natalya never passed up a chance too, but, out of courtesy for the people with her, she tried to keep it to a minimum.

Isn't it a bit early for you to be out too? Or are you really nocturnal, and I'm keeping you from your bed?" Her head tilted in consideration of how she wanted to answer that question. Again, normally, Natalya might launch into an epic story about her night as Artemis, confirming to anyone within a one mile radius that she had a few screws loose in the head, but something about his eyes and the expression held in them as they caught hers, made her reconsider. That really only left three options. She could make some flattering comment about how a strapping young man had a lot more hold than any bed. She could answer simply and move on her way, or she could just really turn the question around back at him.

It really wasn't hard to make that decision for instinct pushed the statement most like her out of her mouth. "I stayed up all night looking for a missing student for the Headmaster," she remarked absently, lying, obviously, and letting him know with the twist of her mouth. "So I'd like to ask you you'd repay me for my lack of sleep, sir." There was no harm meant in her statements, no condescending tone dripping from their forms. Natalya just gained a wry sense of humor from her few months of working at Florence's. Either you began to grow a thick skin, or everyone with a chip on their shoulder would have you for breakfast.

"You look awfully firmiliar. I wouldn't know you from the school, would I?" Her eyes had flickered away from him around the same time his moved, though, she didn't look back when he died. With her eyes tracing the letters of faded names on the tree, she nodded in answer to the question. "I've worked there for a few months now," she answered slowly, feeling distaste flood onto her face before being swept away with a smile. The school wasn't really that bad. There could be a lot worse jobs she could take, after all, and some of the students had more than enough nice bones in their bodies to make up for the others.</sup>

[/b][/color] finished!
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese
WORD COUNT !?: 678 words
NOTES !?: uhhh, i love arguing! (:
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]

[Poe]

A Man Named... KURTIS LOWE

Kurtis was... ah, rather brain-dead this morning, there was no doubt about that. But he supposed that's what happened when you slept on a cold hard ground all night. So, no, perhaps his reply had made very little sense to the lovely young gypsy girl before him, but it all made sense in his sluggish brain. He cracked his knuckles as the conversation lapsed in and out of silence, his eyes now fully open, watching the color of the sky change just behind her head, almost as if she was wearing a halo...
And leave? Ha. When the boy was as tired as this, he really wanted nothing more than to prolong the expulsion of the school. His ego did not feel bruised, like she had probably hoped it would, instead he felt more at peace with the fact that he'd be fine, simply by talking to her. It was as if he were in a dream. Maybe he wasn't actually outside at all... He entertained the fact silently, toying with them in his head and having such a merry time with this fact that he nearly missed the quiet statement she made next.

His pants...? Oh, yes! He'd quite forgotten about the mud. But she was completely right. If he didn't get these washed soon, the mud would indeed set, and then he'd be in for it if the headmaster didn't notice his absence already... But this poor boy was still rather dazed, and his mind was still playing tricks on him, making him believe that it was all a dream, and hadn't heard the word 'later' in her sentence that now hung in the air between them like Christmas tinsel. He looked at her, raising a brow. "That's awfully nice of you," he said slowly. "But I think I'll hold onto my britches until a little while later. I think it would look worse... if I walked into school half naked and a pretty little worker girl was holding onto them for me... But... I mean, if you want them?" He let his hands fall to his waist, still looking at her with concern, as if she wasn't right in the head. He stopped his very feeble attempt at taking off his pants at her next, very frightening words that woke him up better than any bucket of cold water could do.

Y-y-you were doing what all last night?" A terrified look came to his eyes, and suddenly he was awake, fear driving his sluggish brain into alertness. "You're just kidding, right? That can't..." He shook his head, stress driving him to run a hand through his light brown hair, making it stick up on end even more. This wouldn't be good. He looked frantically toward the school and then back at Natalya, hoping, wishing she'd just come out and say: 'KIDDING!' while doubled over in laughter. Anything would be better than the headmistress or master looking for them. That would mean suspension. And that would mean no more family... His breathing became gasping breaths, and he turned, ready to run back toward the school, to beg for forgiveness, but at the same time waited her to call April Fool's.

ooc: D: Sucks. Sorry. =P

[blythe]

<sup>"That's awfully nice of you," he said slowly. "But I think I'll hold onto my britches until a little while later. I think it would look worse... if I walked into school half naked and a pretty little worker girl was holding onto them for me... But... I mean, if you want them?" His hands indeed fell to rest on the waist of his pants as if actually considering taking them off at this very moment because that's what he thought she said. Natalya's mouth formed a small, amused smile at that, slightly flattered that he was joking with her even if the expression on his face held doubt of her sanity. No matter. People came to that conclusion eventually; he just happened to be snappier on the pick up.

Shaking her head silently at the question-- there really was no need rephrasing it again when he understood the gist of the offer-- Natalya watches as his face began to contort in fear from her jest. The fabric on his chest methodically wrinkled and stretched under the increased and gasping like breaths he was beginning to take. For a moment, her own face widened in surprise, her eyebrows raising and her mouth parting into a small 'O,' but when it sunk into her consciousness that he was about to bolt, she stretched out a hand to grab onto the young man's shirt.

"Y-y-you were doing what all last night? You're just kidding, right? That can't..."

"Mr. ---," she let the address hang when she had no surname to finish it and continued, "Please, I was joking. I don't know if anyone knows you were gone, but no one asked me to come looking before I left work yesterday. Each word was spoken firmly and slowly because it seemed her companion was still too sleepy to pick up on any hints behind words. Though the banter might have been apparent to her, it seemed his eyes were still too clouded with sleeping dust. And maybe a little mud. When she felt he was going to relax, her hand relaxed it's grip slightly.

"Now again, I can offer to walk with you to your room, and then take the clothes to be washed before someone decides to rat you out. Will you take the offer?" she continued after a moment. If he was so scared that sleeping outside all night was worth bolting back towards the school, then perhaps he really did need to be getting back now. In fact, her own heart rate had picked up slightly in energy at the thought that the young man she saw now-- and perhaps on an off chance in the school-- might, well, go so far as to be kicked out from the school -- he did say he had been to the Headmaster's office before-- well, she couldn't stand to watch that happen dumbly.</sup>

[/b][/color] finished !
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese
WORD COUNT !?: 482 words. meh.
NOTES !?: mhmm. 'nuff arguing.
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]

[Poe]

A Man Named... KURTIS LOWE

Mister Lowe had not fully realized how badly he had... freaked. Not until she had grabbed the front of his shirt to try and calm him down, practically on deaf ears. He had not understood how quickly he'd come to hyperventilate, to believe the word of some gypsy woman who simply happened to find a weak point and push it hard, making his entire mindset, the strong willed brain that barely believed a word out of any woman, collapse. He gulped down gallons of salivia, trying to breath evenly, practically unable to. And then he looked down at her, her small, caramel colored hand touching the frong of his chest, her skin practically the same shade of mud that stained the white shirt.

Joking? The word rang around in his brain, bouncing off the curved sides of his skull, buzzing in his ears and finally making sense. Finally, his breathing began to relax, his grey eyes narrowing as he looked at the girl before him, trying to tell him that it was okay, that it was just a mistake, that she had only been joking.

Sadly, not even the gypsy girl's beauty could protect her now. Kurtis's fuse, already short from seriouy lack of sleep had just been lit. And he was skipping all the normal stages that signified his anger was boiling over- not that the young woman before him would have known them anyway. To put it lightly, if it had been raining, steam would have come off of the surface of Kurtis Lowe's body. His fists clenched at his side, and between tight teeth, his voice growled out, sounding quite loud in the quiet morning with lightening sky. "So you think messing with people's minds is funny, do you? You think my life here some kind of fricking joke?" A hard, cold laugh came out of his throat, and his grey eyes flashed. He took a step forward, getting in her personal space, not caring in the slightest. All the work, all he had acomplished last night by running before he got angry seemed to vanish before his eyes as they clouded over with bloodlust, anger boiling through his blood, rage driving his mind and his thoughts more than intelligence could.

Kurtis had forgotten completely about the headmaster's threat- which wasn't something he often remembered, but he did remember, distantly, that a woman his own age was standing in front of him, and while he shook with anger, his eyes flashing with hate, he retained the wish, the god-awful desire to throw across the grounds, to slam her into a tree, to hold her miserable head underwater. Instead, his words growled out of his throat again. "Do you think... Do you think if I was expelled from this school I would have anywhere to go? That my father would seriously be proud of me? Proud of me for running away from my problems rather than facing them?"

That awful feeling burned inside of him, and Kurtis turned stiffly away from the girl, forcing himself to remember, to keep his fists at his sides. A man, a man with balls, to say the least, did not hit a woman, but Kurtis, long ago forgot about that rule his father had taught him. "Did you honestly think, that for one second, I would find that pitiful excuse for a joke amusing? He ground his teeth, "You miserable bitch." In that moment, Kurtis forgot everything, his sight coated with red blood as he reached out, his large hand, barely feeling the tingle of his skin on the palm of his hand powerfully slapping across her face. He did not hear the contact the first or second time it happened... Kurtis swallowed hard, his breathing shallow and slow as if he had never lost control. Rage still burned through his veins, and his vision went black as his fists slammed away from Tali, barely seeing the face he had just slapped, and into the Great Oak that they stood next to, leaving his mark in blood upon its bark, letting the tree put pieces and slivers of itself into him. As the anger burned away with the phyiscal movement, he slowly sunk to the ground, letting mud soak the knees of his pants again.

He expected when she turned around that she would be gone, having run during his fit. As his knuckles bled into the grass, part of himself feeding the earth, his shoulders shook and he hissed out. "Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry." He hoped to god she thought that wasn't for her. And he hoped to go she'd be gone when he turned back around, otherwise who knew what he'd do next.

[blythe]

<sup>Natalya swallowed hard and studied the young man's expression, waiting for some sign of relief or anything. She really couldn't have him running off over what she said, and so her grip on his shirt remained firm. Her eyes darted over his face, looking for something, and her mouth parted open slightly to continue with the apology when his face and aura suddenly flipped on her. Anger replaced fear, certainly, even Natalya wasn't blind enough to miss the sudden replacement. Slowly... she withdrew her hand, wincing at the tone of his voice and the body language conveyed in the clenched fists and tight teeth. Every bone in her body picked up on the change. He wasn't a student with which she could hopefully joke. No, he had suddenly transformed-- to her-- into a wealthy, powerful individual that didn't care to be toyed with by someone of the lower class.

"So you think messing with people's minds is funny, do you? You think my life here some kind of fricking joke?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean any disrespect! I just thought it was obvious... that I was... joking," she protested quickly under the barrage of phrases wielded against her like swords, slicing at her confidence and composure. She really hadn't meant any harm in her statement and was terribly repentant if it had caused him seriously emotional stress. Her face twisted into an expression of regret, her eyebrows furrowing and her mouth twisting into a faint frown. He continued to yell-- growl at her, really-- and Natalya didn't know what to do. It was as if her feet had grown roots digging into the soil and she was stuck there while he moved closer and expressed his, er, more than displeasure at her. "I'm really sorry! I didn't mean anything by it! I didn't know you were having troubles, honest."

"Did you honestly think, that for one second, I would find that pitiful excuse for a joke amusing? You miserable bitch." When he turned from her, she thought it was to storm away and catch his breath, count to ten, anything to get away from her. Still, the insult cut her more deeply than any other statements of anger, and tears began to flood into her eyes. Oh, really, she felt so awful if it made him so upset. He must have really had an awful night to be so on edge, and Natalya wished she could reverse time and alter what she said. Maybe empty flattery should have been the way to go. It didn't really matter. She had to fix the situation now, or she'd never forgive herself. As Natalya opened her mouth again, though, she found a palm colliding with the side of her face.

The shock left it impossible to register the situation. No pain, no tingle. She only knew it happened because of the sharp turn of her neck to the side and the fact that her eyes had caught the movement before it had drawn near. Why hadn't she moved? It made no sense, but she was rooted to the spot. Even though when she straightened her head out, it happened again, this time using the pain of the first slap to slide into the pain of the second, doubling everything for her senses. An exclamation of shock and the release of tears laid testament to what happened. A hand moved shakily to her cheek, watching the face of Kurtis Lowe as if he weren't even human, but something utterly terrifying to behold.

People just didn't hit her that often. Sure they might yell or exclaim or shove her a little, not something always seemed to happen to stop just short of getting what she got now. Usually the person had a change of heart or were temporarily distracted. Sometimes they would take her apologies for what they were, genuine, and cut her slack before stalking away. This... It was basically a foreign feeling, and she didn't know how to react but respond like a little girl and let the waterworks slide down the slopes of her cheeks to the ground. She did, though, jump at the sound of him punching the tree and caught her breath, holding it for what seemed like forever as he sunk to the ground.

Her eyes took in the blood spot with more than a hint of confusion. So many thoughts and emotions whirled through her head, though her feet still remained rooted in place. Eventually, though, it was his words that broke her spell, letting her eyes finally fall from the mark on the tree to the boy on the ground. "Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry" he had said, and she assumed that it was for her. It was that statement that broke the spell because it sent another wave of guilt over her head. She had actually driven someone to strike her and now she had to fix this. She couldn't let him think she'd hold it against him, certainly not. Natalya moved to crouch down slowly and reach a hand shakily for his shoulder or back... any sort of contact.

"I can help your hand," she replied in a firm voice though her face was becoming blotchy. "Let me see it, please."</sup>

[/b][/color] finished!
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese
WORD COUNT !?: 876 words
NOTES !?: YOU ARE NOT A BAD PERSON! (x
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]

[Poe]

A Man Named... KURTIS LOWE

Tears rarely did the trick to calm him down, to make him realize what he was doing was wrong. In fact, sometimes they made him more angry. And apologies more often than not fell on deaf ears. Honestly, she was simply lucky that a chair or couch wasn't around. He at least realized that trees were a bit too big to lift out of the ground. His teeth ground together, the bits of wood biting into his skin. It was a good day for him, he was actually fairly calm, had kept his temper, hadn't pushed her head into a tree, hadn't broken her fingers, hadn't attempted to cause her death. But he was still shaking with anger as he sunk to the ground, and not even the attitude in his voice or the rage in his eyes could seem to convey that sense to her.

Obviously, she thought that the apology was directed her way, when honestly he wasn't sure who it was for. For himself, for his sisters and brothers back at home, for the headmaster, for the school, for all the people he had let down by hitting (another) girl. Kurtis rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the warm liquid of blood leak down the back of his shirt, running the length of his spine, he ignored her as she got closer, his vision still blurred with red. Hopefully, she'd see he was still alive, still living and breathing and she'd run off, like a frightened doe with wild eyes.

As she reached out to him, asking for his hand, he swatted at her, feeling an immense drain in energy, feeling the magic itch and beg to be let out of him, pushing at the inner sides of his skin. It started slowly at first, the release, and then it left him in a wave, the grass beneath his knees turned greener, the trees straightened with new life, the sky just a tad bit brighter. The energy drained back into the earth and he slumped back against the tree, staring at the girl who had tricked him, and who he had hit.
Twice.

Help? Why would you want to help me?" His voice was still cold, still hard, still had that sharp edge, and he wouldn't look at her blotchy face, but he didn't move his hand away from her, too amused by the fact that the lamb was trying to help the wolf. He stared instead at her feet, ignoring the slight pain in his hand where the skin moaned as the wood pulled and bit into it. "I wouldn't want to help me, if I were you. He laughed darkly, his grey eyes closing against the light sky. Running a hand down his face, Kurtis finally looked at her, watching her caramel skin blocking with red and purple, and he didn't feel the least bit sorry. She deserved it. If she had lived in his household, if she had understood what he went through every day of his life, listening to his father threaten him about not being part of the family if he failed... Then she would understand that emotional drain that her pitiful and stupid joke had taken on him.

Kurtis's breathing was normal again, and the only sign he wasn't going to pull his hand away and was going to let her look it was that it lay, motionless in the grass, letting the green stalks tickle his palm. An ant crawled across the back of his hand, it's feet slowly carrying it across the expanse of white to the other side of the green forest. Kurt focused on that ant, that tiny speck of black, instead of on her face, forcing guilt to find another home, keeping his body completely blank. Besides, wasn't she the one that should feel guilty?
She had brought the whole incident upon herself.

STATUS: Doneeee finally~ XD

[blythe]

<sup>Her hand was swatted at, but Natalya didn't take that as a serious gesture, only jumping slightly at the motion. Her eyes flickered over his body language and didn't seem to feel there was much of a threat left in the young man. Now, she wasn't saying that he had sufficiently calmed down enough, but there was not enough fear left of him to leave her unable to move away or closer, and if Natalya wasn't paralyzed, she was going to help anyone she managed to come across or cause to be injured.

Her eyes didn't seem to pick up on some of the subtle changes going on around them. For a moment, she did consider that the dissipation of fear caused the world to look more lively and vibrant, but then Natalya always took anything her eyes saw with a grain of salt. Her hand slipped from his back-- which was where her hand landed-- so that he could change his position and move against the tree. Their eyes met for a moment as he stared at her, and she dropped hers quickly to the ground, for a moment being reminded of a statement about looking into the eyes of an animal was a sign of a challenge.

The last thing she wanted was for him to think she didn't feel ashamed of her behavior. She had caused emotional distress and there was nothing about such behavior that should be defended even subconsciously. Shifting so that she was kneeling instead of crouching, Natalya found relief in the calves of her legs, not liking the strain she had begun to put on them from sitting in that position so long. Brushing off her dress, she tried to keep her hands busy because they stung to touch her cheek which throbbed even without moving her mouth.

"Help? Why would you want to help me? I wouldn't want to help me, if I were you." His tone made her shift and tense uncomfortably. She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if his bruised ego and emotionally drained body was lashing out even as he tried to apologise. Natalya didn't know what to make of the young man at all. It seemed to her this whole time that he turned things around to blame her while saying things that sounded more like he felt as if she had done nothing wrong and done everything wrong at the same time. It threw her head for a loop, and for a while, she just vowed to take his words at face value than trying to delve into what the tone they were wrapped in meant.

"But you're not me," she amended softly, hesitantly, studying his hand because she truly did want to fix it up. Then her eyes slipped up to his face again, unnerved still at the lack of remorse but still figuring that she didn't deserve it. "I brought this on," she continued as if agreeing with his unspoken thoughts, "I shouldn't have said what I said, and you had every right to hit me. I deserved it. I really did. I'm sorry. Let me try and make it up by fixing your hand." It was the least she could do besides helping him dispose of the evidence that he had been outside. Nothing was going to take her offer off the table; she really wanted him to accept now to just add onto her apology.

Her body didn't move for a while, waiting for some sign that she could reach out for him. It wasn't until his hand seemed to remain in one spot for more than a moment that she deduced he would let her touch it. Leaning over so that she was on all fours, Natalya crawled to close the distance between them and then moved to sit cross-legged near the hand that had gathered a few nasty splinters in the past few minutes. After pulling her bag in front of her, she gently moved to pull his hand into her lap so that she could study it. Of course, some of the splinters wouldn't come out, but she'd be able to get some of them and at least put something over the cuts for pain and fighting small infections.

"If it hurts, let me know, please," she murmured hesitantly, now going over everything she said once in her head to make sure nothing could set him off again. After running her thumb over the back of his hand to remove the ant and see how deep some of the cuts extended, she rummaged into her bag for tweezers of the sorts and begin meticulously pulling at larger pieces of wood.</sup>

[/b][/color] finished, bby.
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese!
WORD COUNT !?: 783 words
NOTES !?: replying promptly, as always.
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]

[Poe]

A Man Named... KURTIS LOWE

His grey-blue eyes had turned steely, and he stared straight ahead, eyes locked onto the space in front of him, his jaw tight, teeth clenched together in order to avoid another outburst. She really didn't deserve it, somewhere in his brain he knew that, but that part of his brain was being silenced by the anger that was lashing out inside of him, that was still ridiculously loud in his head. Swallowing hard, his gaze wavered over to hers, watching her go from a crouching stance to kneeling, his eyes studying her posture, only slightly amused when she jerked her gaze away as their's locked. It was so interesting how so often humans returned to their animalistic sense... Snorting out a soft chuckle, he looked away again, returning his steely gaze toward the spot in front of him, deciding to ignore her again...

It is always so difficult to ignore someone, though, when they are talking to you, when they are trying to make conversation, especially when they are telling you that you are completely, one hundred percent right. He blinked, shocked. He had never heard any one of his victims tell him that they really did deserve being hit across the face, or deserve having a chair thrown at them. Sure, they said they were sorry, but very few- if any at all- said that they deserved it. So he looked at her again, appraising her, watching her study his hand. He looked away before she looked at him again. "No, you certainly aren't me..." he said softly, shaking his head. That much was now painfully obvious.
"No person in their right mind agrees with me when I act like this, let alone says that it really was their fault..." he muttered under his breath, finally looking at her again, allowing her words of apology (though he wasn't sure how truthful they really were) wash over him. "The only conclusion I can come to about that, then, is that you enjoy being hit. Is that true?" Kurtis's voice was slightly sarcastic as he spoke, and he totally ignored her statement about his hand, brushing it off.

As her fingers grazed against his skin, brushing the ant off, he looked over at her, feeling completely drained of any energy at this moment, and relieved that she had seen none of the magic. Letting out a slight breath of relief he watched her while she began to pull out pieces of wood, letting his head fall back against the bark of the tree, gritting his teeth together, refusing to give into weakness and tell her if it hurt. After a while, though, the pain began to fade into a\ numbing, prickly sense in his knuckles and he relaxed, soothed by watching her work.

Then another sensation came to him. One he was not expecting. He gasped slightly, feeling magic surge through his blood again, feeling his heart pump it fast all the way to the tips of his fingers. And his grey eyes sought hers, waiting to see her reaction. She was the closest thing he was touching beside the tree and the ground... Surely... He watched her, licking his lips as a golden butterfly nestled itself into her hair, becoming a clip to hold it back while she worked. He blinked, hard, hoping it was all just a vision- an effect from the lack of sleep, but when he looked again, it was still there, and Kurtis prayed that she wouldn't notice it until much, much later. But surely other things were happening that he couldn't see. He knew he couldn't actually give her the magic, but he figured she could feel it...

I'm K-Kurtis Lowe, by the way," he stuttered out, still shocked by what had just happened. "Now, if you really want, you can report me for attacking you. Or for being out late. Or both." He sighed, passing a hand down his face, itching his nose. Lumps rose in his throat, and finally, he croaked out.

S[/fontorry."

[blythe]

<sup>He did look really mad, didn't he? One could say she reverted to instincts, but Natalya always acted more like a deer than a person. If she wasn't feeling particularly social, there was a large chance she'd flee the scene to avoid having to contact people, and so her skittishness now was very natural. Her perpetually wide eyes, studying him like a baby deer, were natural too. Albeit, hilarious on most occasions, but natural nonetheless. Her body no longer tensed, though, when he would look her way, study her. In a way, she didn't think he'd hurt her again right now, and so, it comforted her that he could look at her without appearing to get angrier. "No, you certainly aren't me..."

Her eyes flickered up to his and smiled softly at the statement.

"No person in their right mind agrees with me when I act like this, let alone says that it really was their fault..." This time a soft laugh came from her parted lips, slightly marred by a small fear that he would be upset by it, and so it shook towards the end before tapering off. How was one to respond to a statement like that? Natalya almost considered staying quiet, but she supposed that laughter would have to be explained because no one liked being on the outside of an inside joke even if it was only a one person type of joke. Her hands still worked over his gently, still pulling the bigger pieces of wood out swiftly instead of dawdling and making it hurt worse. They only paused to brush her hair from her face.

"Most people say those sorts of things to me," said she, not looking up from her work again. "I just... I... well, I don't blame you. I really, truly don't. We're supposed to be more careful about what we say to strangers, and I forget that rule all the time, you know? I just think people look so interesting to talk to that I can't help as if act that I've known them for longer than a second, and you looked so dreadfully handsome and interesting, and well, I forgot to control my tongue." The dam had been broken. She had been so very good at not over whelming him with her words, but they were starting to leak out again.

A slightly wider smile appeared at the next statement before turning to a small frown. "Actually... I've never been hit that often," she admitted softly, shrugging her shoulders for a moment before dropping his hand to let it rest in her lap. Her own hands moved to rifle through her bag, looking for something else besides the tweezers to deal with the rest of his hand. Luckily it had been a tree that caught his wrath and not a window or she might have had to offer temporary stitches which never felt good. Especially since she didn't have fancy anesthetics. Without looking up, she continued, "The only people who do happen to be my supervisors at work. They don't care for me that much because I'm very clumsy. Though, if they'd let me work in the gardens, I'd be much better. I'm a nature girl at heart."

Her eyes remained downcast on her work and the jar she had pulled out. After unscrewing the cap, she set it down on the grass near her leg and then gently pulled his hand into hers again. It was always... exhilarating to touch another person to her because here was another creature as complex as she, one who thought about more than food and the season, one who could voice displeasure and pleasure equally as often. It was even more of a strange sensation when it happened to be the skin of someone higher on the social class level than her. For him to let a gypsy even approach him, well, she thought Kurtis Lowe to be a nice person at heart.

Her fingers moved monotonously as her thoughts whirled in various circles. Sometimes, her mouth would move as if she were going to speak but then would close again before anything came out. All of the big splinters and some of the tinier ones had been worked out, and now she moved to rub the poultice over the open cuts on his hand, murmuring that it was going to feel slightly cool before burning a bit. All the while, a feeling started to wash over her in waves. And then at once, her hands paused in their movements, fingers pressed against his hand a little harder than before. She sucked a deep breath through her nose and hesitantly let her eyes drag up to his face, wondering if he felt it too. Her chest moved a little faster before she felt a flutter of motion land against her head and pull at her hair.

Licking her lips, Natalya remained motionless, assuming it was a cricket or a ladybug or a butterfly that had decided to use her as a temporary perch. It wasn't until the little legs she felt moving stilled that her inquisitive nature got the best of her. While reveling in this new feeling bubbling in her chest, Natalya softly began to speak, her voice sounding more like a child's than a young woman's, "Did you see what landed on my head? Do you think I can reach for it without hurting it?"

Her hand moved anyways, the clean one, leaving his hand to work its way around her head slowly. When it made it to its target, her whole body tensed and then her face broke out into a smile. Without commenting on the clip in her hair, she resumed her work, almost as if nothing happened. Not the feeling that in chest. Not the clip in her hair. Soon it was as if Natalya hadn't paused, and her caramel colored fingers began to work monotonously once again painting a green substance over his pale canvas of a hand before she eventually thought it was good enough to bandage up.

"I'm K-Kurtis Lowe, by the way. Now, if you really want, you can report me for attacking you. Or for being out late. Or both."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lowe," she replied happily enough before wincing, remembering the throb on her face as he alluded to it. She moved her mouth a little and then winced again, blinking her eyes a few times. "Oh, no. Remember, I offered to clean your clothes for you. I'll still do it, you know. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble. I mean, I don't like getting in trouble either, especially with the people at Florence's who always seem to be about schedules. I'm just... not a morning person." Of course not. Why was she so peppy now? Technically for her, day had become night, and it was about eight o'clock at night to her system.</sup>

[/b][/color] finished, bby.
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese!
WORD COUNT !?: 1060 words
NOTES !?: oh snap, i hit four digits.
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]

[Poe]

A Man Named... KURTIS LOWE

He watched her laugh, suddenly at complete ease again, his body relaxing against the hard bark of the tree and the soft ground. He puffed out a breath, a smile forming across his lips, small and gentle, as he watched her work. She shouldn't be working as a maid in the school, she should be the nurse under that crazy doctor, Taki. He shook his head slightly at the thought, wincing again as a particularly long piece of wood broke free of his skin. His free hand, which rested in the grass, tightened into a fist, pulling up a few of the bright green blades, holding in the pain through clenched teeth. And then once again, it was gone.
She was an incredibly fast worker, he noted, only pausing to push her hair out of her eyes, never really straying from her work. Honestly, if he had to hit anyone, it was probably a good thing he'd hit her- at least she seemed slightly forgiving. Unless this was all a wonderful facade, a wall she'd put up to appear strong.

Boy, could she talk. The small smile on his lips stretched wider as the dam broke and her words flooded out of her like a river. "You should be blaming me. I should be apologizing over and over- I am sorry, for hitting you. I just... I get so mad sometimes and I can't hold it in." He rolled his eyes to the sky, watching it, trying to gather words together. "Dreadfully handsome and interesting, eh?" He laughed, his eyes glittering slightly. "I don't know if I'm actually either of those."
He was being good, so far. Normally, it didn't take much for the young man to be so conceited about his good looks, because he did know he had them. But there was something about this young gypsy woman that kept him from "peacocking" and strutting his stuff. She was calming, even as she plucked slivers from his knuckles. "Perhaps it is a sort of good thing you didn't hold your tongue, though. Because otherwise, we would have parted ways and never been able to really meet. And then, maybe, you could have told on me without feeling any guilt." He laughed softly, letting his head rest against the tree again, his eyes sliding closed for a moment.

That was one way to make a guy feel bad, and Kurtis cringed, looking at Tali through his lashes. "Christ, I'm sorry," he said softly, "I should be the one taking care of you, I think..." He watched as she dug through her bag, sitting up a little bit more as she spoke again about her supervisors at work at the school. "You don't seem very clumsy right now. I'd think that only those steady of hand and pretty smart could do this," he said lightly, watching as she began to spread a green cream that he had never seen the likes of before across the back of his hand. "Why won't they let you work in the gardens?" He rose an eyebrow in surprise, finding this very strange. If that was what she was good at, and if it was what she enjoyed... then you think she'd be allowed to do so.

When she looked up at him, he knew she'd felt something of the magic that had spread from his body to hers. He bit his lip gently, waiting for a flood of questions to reach him, waiting for anything, but nothing came. At least not for awhile. And then he laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think you'll hurt it now, he said softly, watching the gold of her brand new hair clip glint in the sun light. But then she seemed to forget about the clip completely, as if she had known it was there from the beginning, and he tilted his head to the side, curious about this girl, suddenly.

As it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?" It just occurred to him that he did not know her name and he waited patiently, decided she'd tell him if she really wanted to- though it would bother him if he didn't know. "Call me Kurtis, though, please. Or Kurt. Whatever floats your boat." He allowed her to repeat her offer of washing his pants, and he laughed softly, shaking his head. "I'm sure they know I'm gone, by now. But that's awfully nice of you, though. And if you really do want to help, then I'll give you my slacks when we get in the building."
But he was going to avoid entering the building as much as possible...

[blythe]

<sup>Perhaps Natalya was pretending to be okay. Perhaps she was putting up a facade to appear as if nothing shook her and that she could be a forgiving soul. Sometimes Natalya herself couldn't tell what were her genuine feelings and what were the automatic reactions of her attempt at being perfect. However, at this point in time, Kurtis could decide that her words and actions were of the real girl behind the facade. There was no reason to condemn anyone for an action made in haste. No blood; no foul, right?

Animals sometimes lashed out violently and regretted it, returning with their tails between their legs, offering to lick the wound. It wasn't as if Natalya would be silly enough to consider that remorse was absent in a human when it was very clear in a dog.

A hope began to form inside her as his whole demeanor shifted almost completely-- of completely, but she didn't like to make generalisations-- into ease. The face that had been steely and hard was smiling at her. More and more as time went on, and she almost couldn't believe that it was all her that was to be congratulated. The young woman wondered if it was just Kurtis Lowe, that his anger came in flash of lightning like an impromptu storm and left just as quickly, leaving a shimmery rainbow behind to make peace.

A faint, breathless laugh followed that idea because it painted a picture of her own mother who was known on more than one occasion to snap like a dragon over something the offender didn't realise he did. And now that her mind was on the topic, she remembered just how many men would walk away with a nice slap mark situated on their left cheek-- She was left handed.

"You should be blaming me. I should be apologizing over and over- I am sorry, for hitting you. I just... I get so mad sometimes and I can't hold it in."

Natalya patted the uninjured part of his hand, stroking it for a moment as a nonverbal sign that it didn't bother her. Apologies really never meant much to her because they were empty words. No matter how sincere someone sounded, they were empty words. The change in his body language was enough for her. It was as if she took his smiles as a sign that he had forgiven her which meant she, in turn, could for give him effortlessly. "Would it be... insensitive for me to ask why it bothered you so? In case we ever come across each other again and speak, I'd like it to go a little more smoothly."

"Dreadfully handsome and interesting, eh? I don't know if I'm actually either of those."

"Oh, well, I can't take your word for it, Mr. Lowe, I'm sorry. People are never the best judges of themselves. Well, except really, really confident people-- that's envying, right? I'd like to be confident. Wait, I started saying something. What was that now? Oh oh oh, OH! Oh, yes. I can't trust your opinion because I tell people all the time I'm very ugly, but they don't believe me. I guess it's the same thing. You'll just have to trust me that I meant it. " she replied seriously with her lips twitching towards a smile as she continued on in her rambling.

There was barely a pause for breath-- though it allowed Kurtis to speak again-- before she "chuckaed" on in her train of thought. "Are you pleased we met? That would make me so happy, you know. I love meeting new people, and I'd like to think they like me fairly well when we part ways again."

"Christ, I'm sorry, I should be the one taking care of you, I think..." A faint blush pooled at the base of her neck and worked its way up her neck to flood her cheeks with a faint pink color. She wasn't quite sure what had spurred on that statement or what spurred on her physical reaction, but Natalya knew that no matter how many times she'd fan her cheeks, it would remain obstinately flushed, and so, she resolved to ignore the color and finished working in the poultice she was spreading onto his knuckles.

Then she took the gauze and gently pressed one end down against his palm so that she could wrap him up and finally finish the process, sealing up the open end with a pin. Murmuring, she offered the directions to just keep that on for as long as he could until it was time to wash and that should be long enough to let the cuts heal up and the final splinters wiggle out. And then... she let his hand go, dropping it in her lap, but knowing that it would probably move in the next few seconds.

"You don't seem very clumsy right now. I'd think that only those steady of hand and pretty smart could do this. Why won't they let you work in the gardens?" A smile flashed onto her blushing face at that statement, feeling a sense of accomplishment only because he complimented her. With all the bumps, scrapes, and bruises she collected from wandering the woods and generally being Natalya, there was a certain necessity to learning the skill. If she could bandage her own injuries, then others wouldn't be burdened-- saddled, really-- with the responsibility to make her better. That, and, well, helping heal other people gave her a certain joy things like gardening couldn't.

"I'm a maid, not a gardener, they say. I'm always late, like today. I break things... I think it's sort of a punishment. I'm okay with it, though, well, I just think they'd have to get less vases if I wasn't around breaking them," said she when her talkative thoughts gave her the chance to squeeze out a word verbally, but when they were allowed to run again, her newly freed hands moved once again to feel at the clip in her hair, debating pulling it out to see if it was indeed one of hers she had put in without knowing or, for once, she had that proof that her childlike belief in faeries and magic was founded on something more than delusions.

"As it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss...? Call me Kurtis, though, please. Or Kurt. Whatever floats your boat." Natalya was going to spew out her full name and then every nickname given to her under the sun quite happily before he moved on to say the second part. Her eyes widened slightly, and she laughed before shaking her head quickly. "That's rude. I shouldn't be talking to someone like you like... we're even on the same level in the world, Mr. Lowe." Granted, she was talking to him as if she considered he cared what she said which probably broke just as many unwritten, but commonly spoken rules about interactions between rich people and, well, gypsies.

At the last statement, though, her sudden resurfacing of etiquette faded back into the back of her mind. "Would it be so bad if you said you went out on a morning walk and tripped over tools left out by a gardener or something? Or me. You could've tripped over me and acted the perfect gentleman by helping me up but that meant your pants would get very dirty. You could..." Natalya wasn't quite sure what she was going to say, but now that she had finished up, surely it was time for him to leave her.

That was completely depressing because all it meant for her was that it was time to start working... again.</sup>

[/b][/color] finished, bby.
RPING WITH !?: poe-baby-cheese!
WORD COUNT !?: 1282 words
NOTES !?: peacocking. -snickers-
LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether
CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul]