♥ || It's Dangerous Business Walking Out Your Front Door || ♥

This thread is reserved for

RainbowMuffinage
Wavikz
& Dmitri Blair

though, please feel free to take a look. (:

[IMGright]http://i1035.photobucket.com/albums/a434/RainbowMuffinage/SKYE.png?t=1280954057[/IMGright]
Your Name: RainbowMuffinage
Character Name: Skye Wendy Stoneson
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Age: Seventeen
Height: Five foot seven
Weight: A hundred and seventy-four pounds
Eye Color: Green-ish, blue-ish, brown-ish
Hair Color: Red, with hints of gold, blonde and ginger.
Personality: First thing you gotta know about me -- I'm a total emotional wreck. Seriously, I'll be skipping about Starbucks with a vanilla latte one minute and crying in the corner of my room the next. Not gonna lie, I used to cut. It takes a lot to make me do it these days, though. See, it's usually pretty easy to tell whether I'm in a good mood or not. Hood up, hands shoved in pockets, headphones on, iPod blasting, head down = KEEP BACK. And, yeah. That's how I act whenever I'm alone. See, I don't do too good on my own. I get lonely, like, whenever I'm not with somebody I'm close to, be they family, friends or my neighbour's cat. Abandonment issues, I guess. I like to think I have a pretty good sense of humour. I try not to act up around strangers who are just trying to be nice. Though, I do bite. Sometimes. I usually express myself through music. On that note, I WORSHIP Paramore. I tend to quote them in situations.
History: So, I grew up with a pretty regular family. Well, I say "regular". Dad's never really been the "fatherly" type. Basically, he's an ass. Don't even TRY having a conversation with him. It just turns into some huge argument. He thinks the world is such a bad place -- he's always looking for the negatives in everything. I've been tempted to Sharpie "PESSEMIST, AND PROUD" on his forehead for years. I've never known him to go to work -- Mom carries two jobs to support out family and I work at a Starbucks in town. That's where I met Dawson. ♥ I guess we just clicked straight away. It was magic. (: We've got a Wolf Hybrid called Wolf. He's been my best friend since . . . Well, I don't remember a day when he hasn't been by my side. HE doesn't laugh at my flab. ¬_¬ And he howls at the moon with me. I take him out to the woods a lot. Actually, wherever I am, he's there too. I tend to talk to him a lot. Not just in English -- we yip, howl and growl at each other. It's pretty cute, actually.
Abilities: Playing guitar, piano, drums and singing (( although very few people have ever heard me )), cooking and keeping myself to myself.
Weaknesses: Dawson, I s'pose. I can't stand seeing anything bad happen to him. Though, at the same time, I feel like that for Neal. \:
Weapon(s) of choice: My teeth. :3
Likes:
♣ Food -- I eat WAY too much.
♣ Paramore -- I don't think you quite understand how much I worship this band.
♣ Music -- listening, playing (( though I suck )), composing on occasions.
♣ Converse -- good old faithful.
♣ XBOX -- with the guys, usually Borderlands or Mass Effect II.
♣ Dawson -- a shitload. Yes, that's an actual unit of measurment.
♣ Dawson's songs -- you can tell, that kid's got a lotta heart. ♥
♣ Guys in general -- I don't do female friends. They bitch.
♣ My mahoosive green hoodie -- yes, it makes me look like a pea. I don't care.
♣ The "Comfort" Zone -- I like being places and with people I know, and have done for a long time. Change freaks me out.
Dislikes:
♦ The dark -- since I was ickle.
♦ Heights -- since I was ickle.
♦ My weight -- yeah, I need a diet.
♦ Old people who act like they're twelve -- seriously, grow up.
♦ Little kids who don't understand the word "no" -- parents, you should know better.
♦ Old people who blame everything on young people // criticise ALL of us -- we're not ALL murderers who go around raping people.
♦ People who demand respect -- you can have it when you've EARNED it, bitch.
♦ Skinny supermodels -- seriously, you have a disorder.
♦ Being on my own -- another major phobia.
♦ Seeing people hurt -- it's just . . . . . . gah. ¬_¬
Theme Song: [--x--]
I Sound Like This: [--x--]
Other: Oh. And Neal Hunter's a jerk-face . . . . . . . . . Ha ha, just kidding. He may be a total ass sometimes but I love him really. (: ♥

More pictures of me ! :3 :: ☮ ♥ ♫ ☯ ☁

[IMGright]http://www.comicbookmovie.com/images/users/uploads/15871/matt-bomer.jpg[/IMGright]

◤____________________◥
Neal Hunter
Male, Straight
•••••
seventeen years of age
standing about six foot three
weighing in at a little under 150 pounds
baby blues to adore and want
chocolate brown hair to love
◣____________________◢

Personality:

Cocky. Oh, you wanted more? Hmmm. Intelligent, fast on my feet, and sly. I'm your typical definition of a mastermind. I'm sexy (don't hate me), charming, and I always get what I want. Okay, not always, but I do love to push buttons and misbehave. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a player. I'm a flirt, but once I've snagged a mate, I'm loyal like a wolf to its pack. But for as chill and laid back as I am, I do get hot-headed and hurt at times. I guess underneath my evil heart lies a gentleman just waiting to emerge. I'm a 'hold the door open for you,' kind of guy. But shhhhh, I have my secrets. For example, I steal from people (literally) and I'm also caught up in the wonderful world of drug trafficking. Who would have thought?

History:

Ha ha. Wouldn't you like to know? HEY! Okay, okay, sheesh, I'll share. I was raised with manners and morals. I was the 'perfect little child.' WRONG! People think I'm all wonderful and good, but they don't know the real me. Ha, guess my acting skills are impeccable!

Anyways, I skipped grades in high school. Meaning, I stopped going. I saw no point finishing up school and going to college when I can forge signatures and make counterfeit money. Who needs a legit education when you've spent your whole life studying others? Sadly, the parents started asking for report cards, so I did end up having to go. Even though I'm young, I have already earned my first legit degree in criminology, and I'm working on getting another in biomedical forensic engineering. You could say I have the brain of an astrophysicist, but even that might be downgrading my genius ways. I guess I should say that when I was just a little guy the folks decided to bring me in for testing. They actually thought something was wrong with me - as in having metal issues. When it was all said and done, the doctor told them, "Trust me. He's no retard. What you're seeing is the work of a true genius. Congratulations. Your son is incredibly smart. He will go far."

Abilities: Lock picking, forging signatures, and breaking in without tripping alarms. I'm also a quick thinking genius who is physically fit, fast, and mechanical. I also know how to hide things (drugs and such) so others can't find them. Oh, and I love unlocking cryptic messages.
Weaknesses: I'm a little too cocky at times and I do lose my cool a lot (I'm an ass, sue me). Skye. She's a weakness too. I hate being a complete douchebag, but if I'm not I'd be too afraid I might come between Skye and Dawson' obvious love for one another. She makes me weak in the knees. Ugh.
Weapon(s) of choice: Weapons? Whoa partner, I don't fight. I'm too pretty to fight. But I guess if I had to fight, I'd use my fits like a man. Or I'd smile. Yeah, my smile gets me out of all kinds of trouble. But seriously, I'm more of a 'RETREAT' kinda guy. That and I tend NOT to get caught in the act so I really haven't a need to fight. I do exercise everyday though just to be on the safe side.

Likes:

✔ Manipulating people - If I can get someone to do the work for me, I will.
✔ Being deceptive - Say wha? Yeah, I'm a devious chum.
✔ Reading - Room is FULL of them. Murder and mystery are my favorites, but I do love my romance books too.
✔ Learning - Yeah, so I'm a nerd. 8]
✔ Tinkering - I love to see how things work [How It's Made is a GREAT show].
✔ Acting - I have a knack for it and have been staring in school musicals and plays my entire life.
✔ Writing - It's a great way to relax.
✔ Music - Bring on the rock and metal!
✔ Breaking the rules - Who? Me. Never.
✔ Tea - It is the greatest thing ever

Dislikes:

✗ Getting caught - It always puts a damper on things.
✘ Being kept on a short leash - I'm not a pet, I'm free to do as I wish and I WILL do as I wish.
✘ Being told 'No' - Say no and I'll do the impossible and PROVE you wrong.
✘ Knowing the Skye likes him more - Dawsykins is my best friend, but it kills me to see them together.
✘ Losing - I won't give up, not ever. I shall love her even if it is only one-sided.
✘ Fighting - I'd rather not see people get hurt physically. Not emotionally and mentally... that's another story.

Theme Song: Psh, who needs theme songs?

Something
by Escape the Fate
•••••

So now you're running
it's hard to see clearly
When I make you angry
you're stuck in the past
And now you're screaming
So can you forgive me
I've treated you badly
But I am still here

Sometimes I wonder
Why I'm still waiting
Sometimes I'm shaking
that's how you make me
Sometimes I question why I'm still here
Sometimes I think I'm going crazy

Can you help me understand?

I Sound Like This: [--x--]
Other: It's a secret! Okay, I'll share. I already know Skye's going to pick Dawsykins, which is why I've been acting like an ass lately. See, even I can be a nice guy... too bad it's breaking my heart so see her hurt like this.

[IMGright]http://i613.photobucket.com/albums/tt214/dmitriblair/2210103199_241bbb742f.jpg[/IMGright]

Your Name: Dmitri Blair

Character Name: Dawson Graham West

Gender: Male, assuming that wasn't already a total give-in.

Age: Twenty years and counting.

Height: Roughly five feet and nine inches.

Weight: A little too hungry, but not too skinny. Around one hundred and thirty-five pounds.

Eye Color: Green-ish, but they change a little to blue-ish.

Hair Color: Black, with hints and highlights of purple.

Personality: Can you say a little bit of a loner, with a hint of the best cuddle-buddy you have ever had? A music addict. An artist of all trades. I am really down to earth at times, but sometimes I can go a little overboard with partying. I'm a dick to people who disrespect my friends, but if you stay on my good side, I can love you forever, as a friend of course. Well, unless you mention Skye. She is my everything. I'd lay down my life for that girl. I'm a smooth talker when I'm in trouble, but other times I simply can't get the words I need out of my mouth. Scatterbrained and clumsy, but pretty smart. Of course, that won't get in my way. The smartness, I mean. I don't take myself very seriously, except for my music and my art.

History: Well, talk about a rough start to a life. I grew up in a few different foster homes, well, four. My birth parents died when I was young, or at least that's what I was told. Personally, I think they just up and left me. Who wouldn't? I mean, that's pretty much what the first 3 families did. I was too rambunctious, always begging for a guitar, some lessons, and a little love. More than anything, I wanted to become a musician, like my birth father. He was a simple indie guy, but he was really talented, judging on the videos I've seen of him performing.

But the family I landed myself with last? They bought me the guitar! A beautiful wooden Fender, with red for the neck. Most beautiful thing I ever touched. I was 11 years old at the time. But alas, no lessons. I was lucky enough to have the ear, learning from listening to other people's music. Things were good for me and my Charlotte (my guitar's name). That is... until I was about 13. The family of three became a little abusive. The foster mother, Janet? A total drunken skeezeball who only lived for pleasure with her multiple lovers who would come into the house when Roger, he husband, was away. She hit me for wanting to ruin her little game of tag, you're it! with her men.

Roger? Well, he was nicer than Jan for a while, but soon enough, his precious wife wasn't putting out enough for his taste and he began to sexually abuse me. Well, I was too young, a straight d student, and too innocent to know that it was abuse. He had taken my innocence away from my body, my mind still not quite developed enough to grasp that concept.

Oh, the third person of the family? That was the foster sister I was given. She, like me, was an orphan. But Stacy was bad into drugs and alcohol. She was the one who told me my first swearword. Thanks Stace, Jan beat my ass for it. She was one who tried her best to get me in trouble, and lo and behold... it worked every single time. After all, Stacy was the perfect one.

The day I hit 18 years of age, I was kicked onto the street with a little money from social services, the clothes I had acquired, and very little knowledge of the real world. By the time I turned 20, I have had more than 30 jobs. Thirty jobs in just two years? Yeah. 20 years old and little to no success. Go figure. I'm currently working at Starbucks, where I met Skye. She's really changed my life. I met her when I was a lot younger, I was a few years older than her, but we clicked.

Now I'm still waiting for life to decide to 'click' with me. This is only the beginning of my life, after all. Who is to say what comes next?

Abilities: Playing guitar and bass isn't all I'm good for. I can sing, and write too! And though I won't ever admit it, I'm a pretty great cook. Or at least, no one ever complains about my cooking. I'm a painter, mostly. Pastels, acrylic, watercolor? You name it, I do it.

Weaknesses: Oh, the beautiful Skye. And I don't mean that thing that hangs above the ground, I mean the most beautiful red-headed girl in town. <3

Weapon(s) of choice: Weapons? Oh dear god. I like to keep my peace. Who needs medical bills that I can't pay? Not me. But uhm... I do happen to carry around a little switchblade with me. But I prefer not to use it unless I really need to. And even then, I'm far too cautious with it. I work out a little, but only to keep the muscle and not like, die of having no muscle in my body. Geez, that would totally suck.

Likes: ✔
✔Purple - my absolute favorite color of all time.
✔Skye - she's the girl I adore, and so much more.
✔Coffee - can't really live through days without it.
✔Music - it's my life, my creative nook. Without my guitar, you wouldn't see me.
✔Art - of all kinds. Seeing it, making it, it's kinda my thing.
✔XBOX - gamertag? Let's be friends. I play a lot of COD Mod War 2, and Borderlands with Skye. But I'm a boss as any MMO or RPG.
✔Nighttime - what can I say, I like the dark.
✔Helping people - good samaritan? That's me, I guess.
✔Country - not the music type, the land type. I hate big cities. Drive me bonkers.


Dislikes: ✗
✗Seeing people hurt - especially emotional. Been there done that.
✗Tea - that shit is nasty as all hell.
✗Being told off - if I wanted that, I'd still be with my foster family.
✗Noisy kids/old people - face it, they annoy everyone, unless you are brain-dead, or deaf.
✗Hunting - cruelty to animals? Even if they say they will eat it? Hell no. Proud vegan.
✗Card games - bore me to tears? Kinda. I secretly just suck at them.
✗Open water - like the ocean. I have too big of a fear of drowning.
✗Teachers - not educational teachers, but the people who think they know everything and want to 'teach' it all to you.
✗Religion - not my thing. Never has been, never will be. I'm no atheist, but the big man never did anything good for me, aside from letting me know Skye.


Theme Song: [--x--]

I Sound Like This: [--x--]

Other: Can you say tattoos? I have wings tattooed on my wrists, a parrot wing on my shoulder (the start of a sleeve tat), my lover back has a heart on the left, and don't forget the x on the top of my foot. That was my first. I also have a few piercings, that I am very happy with, such as my ears, 5 on the right, 6 on the left. I used to have my nipples pierced, but they hurt like a bitch and I had to get them taken out. And no, there is no difference in what my nips look like now.

[IMGLEFT]http://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/_/32131855/Hayley+Williams+Hayley.jpg[/IMGLEFT]

[ ѕ к у є ★ ω є η ∂ у ★ ѕ т σ η є ѕ σ η ]
" . . . '¢αυѕє ι ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ℓєт тнιѕ gσ
вυт ι ¢αη'т ƒιη∂ тнє ωσя∂ѕ тσ тєℓℓ уσυ
ι ∂ση'т ωαηт тσ вє αℓσηє
вυт ησω, ι ƒєєℓ ℓιкє ι ∂ση'т кησω уσυ . . . "

Fireworks.
A flash of photography.
The howl of a wolf.
The smell of pine trees.
Coarse hairs brushing past pale skin.
Stars dotted across an inky black sky.
Dewy grass, lush green.
Warmth.

And then, a scream.

A plate smashed against a wall downstairs, the audible sound of last night's lasagne slapping against the wall paper and sliding down to the floor. Upstairs, in a room locked from the inside, on top of a single bed, a large lump rolled over and onto the floor, landing with a soft thump ! In the corner of the room, nestled in a pile of old clothes, another lump stirred, awoken. The larger lump moaned, still wrapped in it's duvet, and stretched, it's toes clicking as they were flexed back and forth. Sighing, Skye peeled the covers away from her face and looked up at the stippled white ceiling of her room as she listened to the loud voices downstairs.

Guess Dad was home late. Again.

Groaning, she sat upright. Looking over to her alarm clock (( 9:47 AM )) she cringed. Collapsing back onto the floor, she exhaled loudly. The second lump in the pile of clothes shook slightly as the sound of a dog-like yawn drifted around the room. A large, black, wet nose poked out from the neck of a t-shirt and sniffed. Moments later, a large black and bay creature appeared, fur sticking out at odd angles over it's body. Wolf looked over to the place where Skye was laying and yipped cheerfully, bounding over to her. The girl smiled at her childhood best friend and patted his head. The wolf hybrid's tongue flopped out of it's mouth in a cheeky smile as he climbed up onto his master's stomach, tail wagging excitedly.

"C'mon, Wolf. I gotta get to work." Skye said, scratching behind the dog's ears.

Standing up, she wrapped the bundle up into her covers and placed it onto her bed, leaving it to fight it's way out of the soft, purple ball. Unlocking her bedroom door, Skye padded barefoot to the bathroom, blocking out the sound of her parents arguing. When she reached the small, cramped, tiled room, she shut the door behind her and gazed at her reflection in the large, circular mirror on the wall. Tousled red hair, fluffed up, multi-coloured eyes, an oval-shaped face and skin like porcelain. Sighing, Skye shook her head, dropped her pyjamas and made her way into the shower.

Fifteen minutes -- and seven more plates being smashed on walls -- later, Skye stepped out of the shower. She wrapped herself up in a maHOOSIVE rainbow towel and made her way back into her bedroom, closing the door and sighing as she collapsed onto her bed in a huff. Wolf, who had finally escaped from the duvet, barked and jumped into the bed, licking the girl's face, playfully. He nuzzled the girl's cheek as she looked at him, a dull, tired expression clouding her face. However, it quickly turned into a smile as the dog continued to lick her face. She giggled childishly, for the millionth time in her life, counting her lucky stars that she had her best friend to brighten up her days.

Standing, Skye crossed her room to her closet and slid back the yellow door. It was a Monday, which meant work, which meant a serious limitation on her choice of clothing. Reluctently, she pulled out a black collared shirt -- man's XL -- and her black skinny jeans. Sliding the door shut, she wandered over to her dressing // computer table and sat down on a swivel chair. She put on a little make-up to cover the dark circles under her eyes and finished with some pretty simple eyeliner. Surveying her appearance in the mirror, she attempted a smile. It looked a little . . . 'off', but it'd have to do. Reaching down under the desk, the girl grabbed her old, pale yellow Converse and lazily slipped her feet into them. Standing, she picked up her phone and her iPod from her bed, plugging in her headphones as she slipped them over her ears, preparing to block out the continuing crescendo of her parents arguing. Putting on black and purple striped hoodie and pulling up the hood, she opened her bedroom door and stepped out onto the landing once again.

The headphones Skye wore were actually pretty cool ear muffs and they muffled the screaming voices rather well. But, muffling alone just wasn't good enough. She pulled her iPod out of her pocket and turned it on, switching to her all-time favourite band. The music was deafening, but couldn't be heard by anybody other than her. She desended the stairs of her small home and crossed the war-zone of her parent's argument. On the couch, her mother, a frazzled-looking blonde with wrinkles creeping out of the corner of her eyes, sat with her head in her hands as my father, a tall, dark-haired ape with a mono-brow like a garden hedge, stood over her, screaming his heart out. I crossed the living room silently, only pausing to open the front door.

"Going to work, back late, I'll pick up dinner on the way home." She called out, wondering why she was even bothering.

In response, Skye's Mother stood up in front of her Dad, screaming a stream of insults back at him. Skye sighed and shook her head.

"Have a nice day." She said to herself as she stepped out of the front door, slamming it behind her.

Shoving her hands into her pockets, she started walking towards the town center. Skye held up a job at Starbucks with Dawson. Oh. Oh. Dawson. This day just got better. Pulling out her phone, she wrote a quick text to the boy she was so desperately in love with.

To :: Dawson ♥
From :: Skye ♪
Morning, mister sleepy-head. Beaten me to work (( again )) ? x

Pressing 'Send', Skye smiled as she placed her phone back into her pocket and continued her journey to work.

(( Aaand, I'm done ! Feel free to post, dudes ! :D ))

(I'm posting tomorrow.. Things got really busy. Sorry.)

[[Since I'm sick of getting woken up and sick of freaking fire alarms, I'm posting. Day one of college and the alarm goes off once at 5:30am and then a second time at 7:10am. First they tell us it was our apartment, but then they realized it was one house over. Ugh! It was damn COLD and I got up for NOTHING!!! FML!]]


[IMGRIGHT]http://www.mattbomerfan.com/gallery/albums/photoshoots/session015/001.jpg[/IMGRIGHT]◤______________________◥
Neal Hunter
•••••
вut if I had you, that would be the only thing that Id ever need
Yeah if I had you, then money fame and fortune never could compete
ιf I had you, life would be a party it'd be ecstasy
ιƒ ι нα∂ yσυ
◣______________________◢

Neal's morning always started just before the crack of dawn. Well, except for today. A loud, annoying vibration rattled his brain. Eyes peeling open and head throbbing, the young adult's eyes gave the fire alarm yet another death glare. It was 5:30am. Okay, so he was jipped thirty extra minutes of dreaming of Skye, but that wasn't what Neal was fussing about. No, this was the second time that nice he was forced to wrap a blanket around himself and leave the building. The first time the deafening monster screamed in his ears was at 3:10am. Scared shitless the first time, Neal wasn't really a fan of the blaring noise. If the officer asked him, yet again, if he was cooking at the rip time of 5:30am, he would, again, reply sarcastically that he was just having his lunch.

When the female officer saw his scornful face, she hesitantly walked over to question him. "Excuse me sir, were you cooking or using any electronics?"

A dull, emotionless look drifted over Neal's face. "Of course not. Who the hell cooks a freaking turkey dinner at GODDAMN 5:30 in the fucking morning!" Snorting, Neal's blue eyes shot to the actual culprit. "What? Was one time at 3:10am not enough that you had to wake us again? You know, if I were the fire department I'd remove your stove and microwave. What are you guys? High or something. WAIT UNTIL 6AM TO COOK!"

The brunette contemplated going over to Skye's place, but he knew better. She wasn't interested in him. Everyone else in the world was. But the one person he wanted, no, of course not. Ever realize that's how it always works out? The popular guy can never get the girl of his dreams without doing something super heroic. Neal would gladly take a bullet for her, but he knew that Dawson, his best friend, would get there first. Annoying as hell? Yes. It killed Neal. He knew that no matter what he did or said, he'd never get Skye. There was a time were he almost had her, but then he screwed up and ruined everything. It was like that time were Jacob Black kissed Bella Swan and she punched him in the face and hurt her hand.

Shaking his head at the taunting memory that pretty much forever pushed Skye away, Neal rolled his eyes just in time to see the firemen yawn and walk slowly into the building. Forcing, he read their lips. "Can you believe it? This is officially the start of a bad week. I can just feel it." The other one, who was much taller, smirked and replied with "Sometimes I hate our job. But look at that babe. Her nips are in clear view. I'd give her a nine outta ten. Ha ha ha."

Massaging his temple, Neal removed his jacket and handed it to the female they were gawking on about. A sweet smile appeared on her lips and Neal took a very annoyed step backwards back onto the curb. Standing there, he thought about his options. He could go visit Dawson. He did have an entire closet full of his clothes (as did Skye). But a different, more inviting thought crept into his head. With his wallet and keys in check, Neal swung around the bend and looked for his sick ride.

The engine revved as he pulled away and drove himself to his actual house. It was more like a mansion, but still, it was him legit home. When he first stepped through the doors, he entered the living room. It was a vast room full of modern art and a lot of glass structures. Simple and sleek was the idea he was going for. A few long strides and Neal landed in the kitchen. There at the table sat his maid Emilee, her husband, the butler, Lexer, and their adorable daughter Lenee.

"Good morning, sir. We knew you'd be coming so we prepared. Breakfast is served and your office is all set up. If you need anything, just ask. We are forever in your debt." Bowing, the family walked off.

Pivoting quickly on his heels, Neal let out a friendly laugh. "You're not in debt. You're just the best of friends a man could ever ask for. Mi casa es su casa." A warm smile followed. Rather than just eating the steaming hot food, Neal figured he ought to shower. Moving toward his room, an even larger grin came over his face when he stepped into his private bathroom - it was so peaceful in there.

Dropping his clothes on the ground, he stepped into the shower and let the welcoming feel of hot rain caress his sore body. Old Spice (the body wash) filled the air with it's delightful aroma and then a very expensive shampoo followed. It was a crisp, clean scent that always made Neal smile on the inside. Oh how he loved being rich. It truly was a blessing to be 'cursed' with such wealth and peerless knowledge.

When he was finally done, he dressed in his typical suit and moved back toward the kitchen. With the plate in his head, he stirred his way toward his office to begin his morning routine of checking a very probable count of one-hundred plus e-mails. A grin came to his face when he saw his bisexual friend Alexxis and her girlfriend Jesse in his study room. "What are you two doing here?" A quick peek on the cheek followed his question. "Let me guess, got a Harvard test coming up and you needed the ideal get away place?" Seeing their heads nod, Neal walked past them to his desk. "Well good luck."

His eyes meet the red digital numbers on his desk. It was already 10 o'clock. Smiling, he slid out his Droid and sent Skye a quick text.

From: Neal Hunter
To: Skye Stoneson (Heart-breaker)
Text: Have fun at work today. Hope your week started off better than mine. <3

Looking through the contact list, he punched in a D and decided Dawson needed a text.

From: Neal Hunter
To: Dawson West (Dawsykins)
Text: Let's get married. I bought your a ring. :P

Cheesy grin appearing, he went feverishly to work. If he wanted to score a deal with this upper boss, Neal would have to spend the rest of that morning researching. Thankfully, Neal was good at what he did and knew, no matter what, he would get that contract. But what most didn't know is that he sometimes did some 'off the clock' work to make it happen. iPad ready, laptop up and out, and iPod playing his favorite song (as of right then), Neal was more than ready to challenge the world - especially after his dual fire alarms.

Dawson Graham West


♣ I'm in trouble.
I'm an addict.
I'm addicted to this girl.
She's got my heart tied in a knot,
My stomach in a whirl. ♣

It started with a word, then a lyric, then a melody, and finally a song was born. From that song, spawned the devil and love. Love wanted so bad ot be recognized, that it performed the song every time, to remind the princess of his love, but the devil tried hard to win her. A battle ensued between the two forces, and the princess was left scarred. Neither love, nor the devil could ever have the power to fix her.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Rolling to hit the alarm clock, but somehow, by the powerful smite of God, Dawson pummelled his glasses with his fist. Groaning as the cold metal and glass of the frame cut into his hand for the second time this month, the twenty-three year old forced himself out of bed to examine the damage. The alarm was still blaring as he swung his feet over the edge of the small mattress, the comforter all jammed up at the bottom, thank you heat wave. He moved the botton on the clock to shut off the noise, leaving his small room in an eery silence. The sound of his own breathing and his heart pumping was a little unsettling, so Dawson began to hum.

A song from a dream, that was all that could explain where the tune had emerged from, but already, he knew that he could easily write a new song for his up and coming EP. Of course, the four other songs had come to him in dreams about Skye, but no one would ever know that. Unless, of course, they knew him very well. Sadly, there were only two people in the world, but one didn't think she was good enough, and the other was his best friend and rival for the girl of his dreams.

Pulling out small fragments of glass from the glasses, Dawson winced in pain. He was used to being hurt, but this was different. Physical pain was never his strong point when it came down to it. In all honesty, Dawson was a bit of a baby when it came to getting hurt. But never the less, he dressed his wound quickly. After all, there was only a few more minutes before he had to be out the door in order to be to work on time. Or, on time in his mind. (Which is 5 minutes, or more, early.)

Grabbing his black shirt with the non-injured hand, Dawson put it on to cover his bare, battered chest. The boxers he wore yesterday were still on from sleeping, so he stripped himself of them, walking around the room with just a shirt on, the search for clean boxers and a pair of pants for work. It took him too long, in his opinion, which meant today was laundry day after work. Sighing, he pulled the boxers, followed by the pants around his waist. The pants were deep purple, a very snug fit, and showed his skinny legs of in a flattering way. They were certainly his favorite pair, that was sure. Grabbing his wallet and jewelry from the top of his dresser, he slipped on his favorite five rings. Shoving the wallet in his back pocket, he looked around the dank room a moment.

The walls werepainted dark lavender, the curtains a slightly lighter hue. On the floor were piles of clothes, books, writing pads. The only area that seemed to be cleaned off, aside from his mattress was where Charlotte, his Fender guitar, was. Charlotte was his life, always had been, always will be. The male had two other guitars, but Charlotte was his first, and most definitely his favorite. It had been a gift, and even though he hated the family, he cherished it with all his heart. The rest of the room seemed bland, a lamp in the corner, some dead flowers on the window sill, and the smell that meant that he probably needed to wash his clothes.

Soon, he made his way out of his one bedroom, one kitchen, one bathroom apartment, knowing work was awaiting him. It helped pay for the bill of this shabby living space, that was what mattered. Dawson made his way down flights of stairs, thanks to the elevator being broken from the past three weeks. One day, it would get fixed, but that would likely not be soon. He supposed, however, that it was just good exercise to take the stairs anyway.

He would have normally taken his bike to work, but today was already too beautiful to even consider it. Dawson wanted to walk, take in the full beauty of the place, even though his section of town was less than amazing. The walk only took a mere 15 minutes on foot, and as soon as he arrived, he wa greated by the other employee who ran mornings, aside from himself and Skye. Karrisa was a nice girl, very pretty, but none too bright. She had the chance to open, because her father owned the local stabucks building, but other than that, she mostly had to stick with making simple drinks.

"Morning, Krissy." Dawson smiled her way as he grabbed his visor hat and his apron monstrocity. It wasn't the most beautiful look, but the male just had to keep reminding himself that it was paying his bills. That was when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Apparently, he wore these pants yesterday. Dawson shook his head. 'Damnit...' He really thought he had worn a different pair yesterday. Oh well, though. He figured no one care.

Taking out his phone, he read the two messages, the first being from Skye, the girl he loved, and the other being from his best friend, Neal. Reading the two, the guy laughed slightly. Those two seemed to be less than having good mornings, despite their cheery texts. Now, Dawson knew the two well enough to know that was true, due to the way the texts were written. It was a thing you just learned as you grew to know the friends you adored.

From :: Dawson
To :: Skye<3<3
Hey, beautiful. have a rough morning? yeah, I'm already at work, go figure. (:

Sending the first message, he smiled. Nothing made him happier than Skye, except music of course.

From :: Dawson
To :: Nelly(:
A ring? o baby. I can't wait to see it, big boy. (; lol.

Now, Neal was his best friend, and the two knew how to joke around, but sometimes Neal was just too adorable for his own good. Laughing, the twenty-three year old sent the message, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

The morning wasn't actually looking too bad, for a Monday. The sun shone down on the grotty tarmac, reflecting off windows and giving the streets a golden glow. She was already half an hour late, but Skye was in no rush as she wandered around down-town, enjoying the view. Everybody seemed so . . . happy. After a few minutes of smiling to complete strangers and her walk evolving into some sort of . . . skip, Skye began to enter the all-more busy part of the city. The weather seemed to be smothered by thin, wispy grey clouds here and there, the sunshine struggling to get through the layer. People here didn't have time to smile at each other, or to even stop for a coffee. Wait. Coffee. Coffee.

"Holy C#@P, I'm LATE ! !" She yelled , jumping up and down like a small child before setting off, sprinting, towards Starbucks.

People stood and stared as she weaved around lamp-posts and women with their arms filled with bags of groceries, but surprisingly, Skye managed to jump out of the way before she crashed into them. Rounding a corner, she turned onto the narrow stretch. The finish line. The clouds in the sky opened up and a trail of light landed on the small Starbucks coffee shop dead ahead of her. Starring at the coffee shop in awe, Skye smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. I'm gonna make it. I'm gonna make it. I'm gonna ma-

KER-SMACK ! !

She hit the concrete floor of the street, people swerving to avoid getting dragged down with her. Lying there, Skye gazed up at the lamp-post which had completely ruined everything. She attempted to scowl at the black iron demon, but pain prickled her face at the slightest movement. She could already feel the bruise forming from where she had run, head-first, into the pole. Bollocks.

Feeling her phone vibrate in her jeans, Skye quickly pulled it out of her front pocket and opened a text from Neal. Smiling, and wincing as she did so, she quickly texted back.

To :: Nellykins ♥
From :: Skye ♪
Heh, yeah right. Just got pulverized by a lamp-post when I was trying to get to work on time. I swear to GOD, I will NEVER be early for ANYTHING. >.<

Sending the text, Skye made the decision to attempt to get up. Rolling onto all fours, she stood up very slowly, dizziness already creeping into her brain at waist-height. Groaning, she placed her hand over her face, feeling a small trickle of warm, stickiness around her fore-head. Sighing, she attempted to hide her limp as she hobbled across the road and into Starbucks, leaning all her weight against the door to open it.


"Yeah, I know I'm late. No, I don't really care this morning. And, yes. This is the handy work of that fucking lamp-post across the road." she called out as she entered the customer-less, empty shell of a building.

(( Please do excuse the shortness -- I'm just about to leave for school. :yes: ))

Blowing through a book like it was nothing, Neal recoiled back from his desk. Shit! Class! With the chair still rolling backwards, Neal grabbed his fedora and suit coat and black tie. Flipping the attire on, he went down the stairs and out the door. With a quick hit of a remote to his car, he heard the engine click on as the car started automatically. New shoes still squeaking some as he tried to break them in, he punched in a seven digit code and popped into the black leather seat of his car.

Engaging in a gear shift, Neal rolled his car smoothly out onto the road. Pulling the stick back and smiling, he speed off toward the college he was taking classes at. Biomedical forensic engineering. It was a mouthful, but, to Neal, it was heaven. He learned the ins and outs of the criminal society which made his side job - being a drug dealer - so much easier.

Rather than responding immediately to the two texts he received, Neal Hunter waited until he was parked in his reserved space and locking his car. Phone now open, he read Skye's message first. He smirked. She was such a blonde at times. It was really a shame she was a natural red-head. Reading Dawson's text next, he laughed. Knowing better than to text them as they were both at work, Neal went back to his business - getting to class.

Miss Loraine Scarlet. She was an interesting teacher to say the least. When Neal stepped into the room, she breasts always seemed to 'pop' more. Exhaling (he wasn't a fan of getting hit on by his professors), the blue-eyed male went to his assigned seat. As the other students shuffled in and took out pads of paper, Neal's cool gaze landed on the board behind the teacher. Unlike more of his classmates, Neal never took notes and yet he always aced the tests with a perfect score.

As class began for him, Neal knew work for his two best friends was already amuck. Perhaps today he'd venture their way and purchase something at their little shop. One second thoughts, maybe not. He couldn't stand seeing the two of them work together. Between their flirting and giggling, he literally grew sick. Neal, in an attempt to be modest, tried to avoid seeing the two at the same time. The real reason was obviously because he couldn't bare the thought of knowing his Skye chose Dawson over him. Damn pretty boy stealing the woman I love.

Making himself coffee, Dawson hummed to himself as Krissy talked about herself without stopping. Laughing and nodding in the appropriate places, he stayed on her good side today. Today being the key word. Sometimes he would totally not pay attention to her when he got there and would be on her bad side for the rest of the day. When Krissy was mad at Dawson, she was even more of a bitch to Skye, just to piss the young adult off. Taking a sip of the freshly brewed, first cup of coffee, he sighed softly. A good cup of coffee was a great way to start a morning.

That was when Skye busted into the little coffee shop and pretty much yelled her woes at the store. That was when Dawson turned to look at her. And it was also when he noticed the blood. Nearly dropping the Venti sized cup of coffee, he fumbled to put it down and run to her aid. "Oh my god! Are you okay? What happened!?"

Rushing to her in a hurry, Dawson pulled her to a small table and made her sit down. The wound wasn't too bad, granted, but it was definitely not pretty. Barking to Krissy to get a wet cloth, he bit his lip. Sure, Krissy might be a bitch, but she knows how much he loves Skye. Within moments, Krissy returns with a damp rag, but it is clean, thankfully. Dawson presses the cold cloth to Skye's head, hoping to not hurt her.

"Lamppost? Really, Skye." He laughed, calming down a little as he removed the cloth only to see that the wound was less of a gash and more of a scrape. He was certanily thanking his lucky stars, making a mental note to write some kind of song later about the morning. He had some great lyrics in mind.

'Thank my lucky stars.
I'll be right where you are.
No matter if you get hurt today.
I'll always be here to stay.
Just for you.
I'll be here just for... you.'

Humming the tune to his newfound lyrics, he pressed the cloth to her head a few times to clear the blood, only looking away from Skye's face to get the first aid kit from Krissy, removing a thing of antibacterial cream, and applying it to the girl's head. "Well, it was a doozy, but nothing I couldn't handle." He smiled, laughing slightly.

Taking Skye's hands, he noticed they were also very scraped, most likely from the fall. Kissing each hand, he cleaned them and applied the cream to each, with gentle touches. That was one thing Dawson was good at, fixing up people and making them hurt less. Now, if only he could fix himself up.


(I am SO SORRY for not replying until now. Things have been CRAZY.)

Skye gladly followed Dawson's orders and took a seat at the small coffee table, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as he fussed over her. She winced slightly as he barked at Krissy, another employee and the crankiest chick alive when she was in a bad mood, and then again as he pressed a cold, damp . . . thing to her head.

"Juh-EEESHUSH CRIPESICLES." she moaned as the pain in her temple flared. "Asperin, anyone ?"

Skye watched the thoughts racing around behind Dawson's bright eyes and knew his mind was at work making some form of memory to mark her clumsiness. She giggled slightly, being careful not to jog her lover's arms as he began hastily applying antiseptic cream to her battle wounds.

"Oh, Dawson. You baby me WAY too much." she commented, smiling cheekily as the boy kissed her hands. "Thank you."

Leaning slightly forwards, Skye wrapped her arms around Dawson and cocooned him into a giant bear-hug. He was warm and smelled like coffee ;; she inhaled the scent, craving it more than air, to feel the very essence of him surging through her own body, keeping her alive. She sat there for a moment, thanking her lucky stars that she had such wonderful, caring people in her life. Wiggling her head into the center of the hug, she placed her cheek next to Dawson's and delighted in feeling his skin against hers, sparking and sending electricity across her body. She turned her head slightly and placed her lips gently against his, breathing in the even sweeter scent of his mouth.

This was what made it all worth-while.

This was what made the world turn round.

This was home.

(( Gah. I'm sorry it's been so long. Coursework and such. >.< ))

[[La la la, let me know when we have a time skip. XD I don't really feel like posting Neal through a day of college. If I have to go through it, I sure as hell don't want to roleplay through it. lol]]

(Agree. Wanna time skip until work and college is over? That way we can all have posts together instead of two and one.)

(( Okalie dokalie ! Time skip it is ! :3 ))

(Would you like me to post them getting out of work and heading to get.. something. And meeting Nelly there?)

(( Oh, yes please ! That'd be awesome ! :3 ))