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Post by SERAH LIANNE CROSWELL on Apr 24, 2011 6:43:20 GMT -8
A girl with long, light brown hair and eyes that could look so many different colours just depending on one simple element -- light -- pushed open the door of the public library, coming out into the bright sunshine of April in Vancouver, BC. The change in the lighting turned her eyes from their actual green to a mixture of blue and brown and grey, with only tiny flecks of their real colour. It was strange, how the light could do that.
Serah Lianne Croswell clutched three thick hardcover books in one arm as she started off down the sidewalk. She passed someone she recognized, someone from Pacific Oaks High, who had graduated with her. R... Her name started with an R, didn't it? She couldn't exactly remember. She'd never talked to the girl. As Serah passed her, the girl let out a cough that sounded uncannily like whore. Serah set her mouth in a thin line and kept walking, refusing to even turn her head to acknowledge that she'd noticed the girl in the first place.
Why did people have to believe everything they heard? Why couldn't they read between the lines, like Serah did sometimes? It wasn't so hard. Just because there had been graffiti in every girl's bathroom in the school last year (DOWN WITH SLUTTY SERAH in all capitals, black Sharpie) didn't mean that it was true. It wasn't. The lengthy conversations between bathroom-goers, scratched in all different writing styles and pencils and pens and Sharpies, about what a whore Serah Croswell was; they were totally off. She'd never even been kissed.
There was a bed of pretty flowers at the edge of the sidewalk, and Serah stopped for a moment to admire them. A complimentary colour palette of pinks and oranges -- and then someone walked right into her --
She was falling. She reached out with both hands to try and catch herself, dropping her books in the process. Silently cursing whoever it was who knocked her over, Serah looked up indignantly. It was just past noon, and the sun was almost directly above me. The person was just a big black silhouette. Someone else, walking past, lets out a cruel laugh; another Pacific Oaks grad, to be sure. Trying to gather up her books from where they lay scattered around her, somewhat thankful that it wasn't a rainy day, Serah mumbled, "I'm sorry. I should have been watching where I was going." Why was she apologizing? She hadn't been the one to run into the other person; but she'd learned way back in the sixth grade that it didn't matter.
tagged; whoever's bored awesome enough
word count; too lazy to count
wearing; this
muse; firework, katy perry
notes; anyone? anyone?
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Post by RHIANNON KAYE NEVILLE-SMYTH on May 31, 2011 18:21:45 GMT -8
   When she wasn’t busy planning a crazy party or out riding her horse, Rhiannon was very easily bored. There was just nothing that could hold her attention very long. One minute she would be reading a book, and the next she would be trying to create something out of the mass of useless things in her room. Her parents were convinced that she had ADD, but the girl refused to get any testing done. This is how she was wired, and she was used to it. Changing everything all of a sudden would not make her life easier. So what if it was difficult to pay attention in school, it’s not like she would do her schoolwork anyways. Point was, she was sick of everything in her house and had to get out. Walks could sometimes calm her down, so she decided on that for the time being. At least it was beautiful out this time of year, there would be a lot of things for her to look at.
Yes, it was no secret that Rhiannon was easily distracted. So it was no surprise when she walked directly into someone. Of course, she also wasn’t one to take blame. Whoever she had ran into couldn’t have been paying attention either. ”Jesus, watch where you’re going!” She didn’t bother to help the girl up, she was too busy smoothing out her outfit, making sure she still looked her best. After making sure there was nothing wrong with how she looked, Rhiannon finally looked at the person she had bumped into. There was something familiar about the girl, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ”Do I know you?” She looked the girl over. It took her a few moments to realize who it was. ”Holy crap, it’s Sleezy Serah!” Rhiannon had spent a few years giving this girl total crap. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t recognized her. ”Where have you been hiding out!?” It had been hours of entertainment, picking on the poor girl. If Rhiannon had any semblance of a soul, she would have felt bad for her.
Rhiannon had always been this way. Cruel, two-faced, and always thinking of herself. She didn’t have a problem with it, didn’t even care. As long as she was on top, she was happy. From the very beginning she had associated herself with the popular kids. Everyone knew her name because of it, and that’s the way she liked it. It was well known that the Neville-Smyth girls were not to be tampered with. Rhiannon because she was feisty and would do anything to maintain her reputation, and Corrine because no one messed with Rhiannon’s sister. It was fun for Rhiannon. Picking on people gave her a sense of power, and she loved it. She was on top of the world. And so she was thrilled that she had stumbled upon Serah. This would definitely keep her entertained for a while.
::tag:: Slutty Serah =P
::outfit:: right herrrr
::notes:: short, not feeling terribly creative today =(
::words:: five hundred and one
::lyrics:: starstruck by 3oh!3
::listening to:: watching Shameless
::credit to:: rora @ hos[/color][/color][/font][/center] |
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Post by SERAH LIANNE CROSWELL on May 31, 2011 19:49:54 GMT -8
"Jesus," snapped the Silhouette standing above her in a too-familiar voice, "watch where you're going!" The Silhouette's real name came to Serah's possibly-bruised mind immediately: Rhiannon Neville-Smyth. One very rich, very spoiled half of the whole that was the Neville-Smyth twins. She was a year younger than Serah -- of course, that had never stopped Little Miss Popular from joining Tianna Graves in a never-ending conquest to turn Serah's name into dirt.
An angry Rhiannon was just glaring at her now, brushing imaginary sidewalk dust from her midnight-black jeans. Serah scrambled to pick up her fallen books, standing up carefully with them once again stacked neatly in her arms. Rhiannon Neville-Smyth was frowning at her, confused. "Do I know you?"
Serah shook her head quickly; the motion was so fast, so automatic, that it almost seemed somehow violent. She dropped her gaze to her books, as though it would stop the other girl from realizing who she was, and carefully used one fingernail to pick off a bit of dirt from the now-scuffed cover. "No," she lied hurriedly.
"Holy crap," grinned Rhiannon suddenly, and Serah's heart sank. Little Miss Popular had her voice tinted with excitement now, and recognition. "It's Sleazy Serah!" All the control she had previously been holding over her body disappeared now; it was sucked into a black hole, quite possibly. Her hands shook, and she nearly dropped the book on the top of the pile again. "Where have you been hiding out?"
Giving a resigned sigh as she realized there was no way she'd be able to get away from this unscathed, Serah shrugged. The top book tumbled from her arms to the cement sidewalk at her feet again, and she flinched at the sound it made when it hit the ground. She imagined the characters in the book crying out as they fell, and falling silent as they hit the ground. "Um, I graduated," she muttered, unwilling to crouch down and pick up the book, keeping her eyes on the remaining books still in her grasp.
tagged; rhiannon neville-smyth
word count; too lazy to count
wearing; this
muse; don't stop believing (glee version)
notes; hooray!
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