Ⓢhow Ⓜe Ⓢpectrum: (o/a)

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[Leelee_Mraz]

OPEN

Post people post!

[Nox Mortia]

>>Dancing in the sky<<

♫ Қɩɑɾɑ 𝕯𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖊 Ϋʊȥʊҡɑ ♫

No way that you can feel me,
No way that you can reach so high,
The stars will shine, and you won’t touch me,
As I’ll be dancing in the sky.

---The night before---

"And I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud.."
Kiara's voice boomed throughout the hall , raising at a level of decibels people could only marvel at as the sound reverberated furiously, the deadly embrace of her song gradually pulling everyone inside its trance while most of her friends she'd met while still in highschool already started beating their bodies to the music. Maybe she did not have a great voice, she was far from talented in the art of singing, but it was her inner power, her confidence that lured people into the invisible vibration sent by the modulation of her tones. She had the skills, with all those tedious lessons of canto, she just did not have a natural talent, she needed to always work to perfect her voice.. What she did best was dancing, contorting her figure and levitating it with the music in a way that made the scene belong entirely to her, not the other way round. She was the scene, she was ruling it because she liked it, because she was passionate and most of all, because she enjoyed inputting an endless amount of energy in those around her. Two guys, not older than seventeen, touched the cords of their instruments in perfect synchronization's with Kiara's rhythm, and before they had time to realize the strange phenomenon, the karaoke restaurant caught the atmosphere of a night club, where everyone was allowed to release themselves into freedom and break all the rules.

The adults, people from the high society that enjoyed spending their time here, having been enthralled by the girl's performance, joined the youngsters in the dance, resuming to clap their hands above the head. Although they would have enjoyed nonetheless to break free, a sophisticated and polite person must keep himself composed in every circumstance, be it as entertaining and hypnotizing as this. After four minutes, or so, Kiara's show came to a dazzling end, her feet rising off the ground to do a high jump, one meter from the floor. She landed on her soles and bowed, clenching her hand at her heart. One man, whose face was only slightly familiar to her, came forth and helped the girl climb off the stage with a wicked smile.

"Good job my dear, although i suggest you stick with dancing. You have a strong and amazing voice, but we both know canto is not for you." He said, looking around to search for signs of approval, and frowned ever so slightly when everyone gave him the cold glare. He shrugged it off casually and dug his hands deep into the pockets of his trench coat as he made his way out of the building.

"Thank you sir." Kiara called after him in unconcealed delight. She was not bothered by the criticism, far from her to get frustrated over such a silly thing, but seemed to have gotten some enjoyment out of the fact that her skills in the musical area had been so openly questioned. That meant she, as the rest of the band, was envied, and with the risk of being selfish, she felt good in her skin. After all, who would have had the guts to step on the stage and do something he or she was perfectly aware that lacked the necessary quantity of talent for such an act, if not Kiara? That was how she was, always doing something new, always jumping recklessly when a challenge was put in front of her, and never strolling off of her path when all she got in return was disagreement. Her life had been difficult enough before, so there was absolutely nothing that could bring sadness onto this girl's expression from then on, absolutely nothing at all.

"Good job over there." Diane, one of her good friends and possibly the only one nearly as crazy as herself, pushed her way through the row of people and drew Kiara in a tight embrace, pulling her up and spinning her once in excitement. Then, realizing how weird it must have looked, released and gave a sheepish grin from ear to ear. "Remind me not to ever mess with you girl." She caroled and connected their hands together to go to a secluded room prepared exquisitely for Kiara and her friends .

Once there, she was greeted by a group of six people who pulled her from one side to another until they finally decided on how to sit. The tables were not as spacious as one may be led to believe, and without much acknowledgment, she found herself in the lap of her best friend, who happened to also be a guy. He insinuatingly jiggled her up and down, triggering a chorus of laughter that forced Kiara to join it. They were a bit noisy, although nobody could have heard them from where they were located. "So tell me.."She began, crossing her legs and draping her arm around Michael's shoulder. "When will you continue with those guitar lessons? I'm thinking about buying an electrical one instead of using yours." He stared at her as if she had told something in chinese, or spanish, or one of the other languages which sounded like barks to him, and poked her nose as an answer while he nuzzled her ear. "Tomorrow we'll go and buy you one, how does that sound?"He smiled artfully and popped a few fries in his mouth, attempting to be funny. Kiara needed no guitar, she had plenty in the studio, but she liked making him useful to keep him happy.

And he was, no matter what he did Michael was a funny guy, moreover with the purposeful exaggerated arch of his brows adding to the effect of his already clownish visage and with his aquiline nose that, when looked at from one side, was weirdly outlined by the light and had a quite hilarious aspect. Kiara loved him for this, because whenever people made fun of his nose, he simply lifted his chin and wiggled it playfully, showing that he could not care less of his physical appearance. However, except this particular flaw of his, he was in rest perfectly built, about six feet and three inches in height, with a mass of black spiky hair and a pair of emerald green eyes that nevertheless drew you in with each visual contact, not to mention his eternal doleful expression that made all the females want to protect him from the dangers lurking in the outside world.

"You're such a tease."Barracked Kiara as she assaulted his fried chicken, throwing a small piece of meat in her mouth whilst she snuggled more into him, like a child begging to be spoiled by her parents. And perhaps that was all there was to their relationship, he was protective of her, even though she had never asked for his presence, and would always try to make her laugh and smile. Since she herself had a sense of humor that provoked laughter even in not-at-all-funny situations, he managed to do it every time. People had already gotten used to hearing Kiara laughing, or singing, or seeing her in random places dancing to the music resonating from her headphones, but they still could not read past the facade of the happy girl she revealed.

It always occurred to them that inside this girl, something unusual slithered, and they were always half expectant whenever she got on the scene, as if in the next moment she would do a hocus pocus and summon the divine fire. However, despite the fact that she never really exposed something of the supernatural faction, they continued to regard her as an unique phenomenon, eternally looking forward to what she had to offer.

Diane, half jealous of her friend, since she privately fancied Michael, rose her shoulders and let them drop lazily with her eyes averted from the two. She loved Kiara, but seeing her with the guy she liked her unnerved her to amazing extents. She, personally, did not believe in friendship between a man and a woman, hence why it was utterly difficult for her to believe that between Kiara and Michael was nothing more, and it took her a great deal to pretend disinterest and ignorance. She sighed and drew her chair closer, patting the girl on her shoulder with a fake smile.

"Can we talk?" Inquired Diane, ignoring the sad look on Michael's face who had gotten probably too used to feeling someone in his lap. He gave a conspiratorial wink and stood up, letting Kiara sit down as he made his way next to one of his soccer mates. "What's the problem?" Continued Kiara, leaning in to not be overheard by those at the table.

"Think you can hook me up with him...?"

The statement contorted Kiara's features in disbelief, who, by no means, had she foreseen this and was, subsequently taken by surprise at the question in front of her. She bit her lip in dismay, cast a glance at her best friend, then, with a heavy sigh, pecked Diane's cheek and turned to her food.

"Consider it done."

---Time skip---

After a few hours, she was throwing her things aside in one corner of the room as she plopped in her bed and put her headphones on. The night had really been a tiring one, and she patiently waited for the rest of them to come out. Music rang loudly from her mp3 player, but she did not seem to think the volume dangerous for her ear drums and hummed along, closing her eyes while she lost herself to her own world of fantasy. Somehow, she could not get rid of the feeling that something big was coming her way, but she would nevertheless meet it with a smile, no matter what it may be.

They would be having a free day, and since Kiara had decided to take it a bit earlier than the rest, sneaking outside the house when everyone else was sleeping, now she felt the first signs of exhaustion crawling in. She took a shower, put on a new outfit and climbed down in the kitchen to get the lunch ready while, she supposed, her friends were still trying to find something to do. Kiara opened the fridge and peered in, closing the door with her foot after she found a small box with vanilla ice cream, her favorite. She plunged her spoon inside the cream and took a mouthful, tossing her head from one side to the other to the beat playing inside her head.

[Sukimari-234]

❝ ㊋ Scαяℓєtt Jαиє Bяσσks ㊋ ❞

Lσcαtiσи:The streetsxxxxx ωiтн: Myself

The day was beautiful, it was wonderous, it was warm and Scarlett was loving it. It seemed that warm days were not all that common in England, at least according to Sorcha, but to was warm today and she was possibly the happiest girl in the world.

Wearing a pair and tight blue jean shortshorts that showed off her long legs and a deep red tank top, Scarlett's long dark red hair hung down her back in a beautiful cascade as she gleefully lifted her face towards the sun. Unlike most red-headed people, Scarlet never had to worry about getting a horrible sun burn. The sun had never hurt her, she had never gotten a sunburn in her entire 18 years of being. It gave her a certian smugness when it came to the people around her that continued to cast almost dis-believing glances her way.

Casting her dark amber gaze about, Scarlett watched the busy London streets move. She loved to watch people go about their life, she loved to see them live, to see them re-act to whatever was around them. It gave her a certian measure of confort that she could notice the similarities between the people of this town and her home town. It seemed that no matter where you were you could always find things that reminded you of home. Leaning back, the pale red-head leaned back against a railing, her gaze flickering up at the sky as she almost dozed in the sunlight.
She had needed to get away from the group, she had needed to remind herself that she was still the small town girl from mid-west America. She wondered how her sisters were doing, she wondered about their father. The girls should be on summer break right now, she thought. A breif picture of her 15 and 13 year old sisters flashed through her head, Janet's dark blond hair and Bridgett's brown bright in her mind's eye. Thier mother had died giving birth to her Bridgett and Scarlett had taken up the slack, becomming the mother of the group. Heck, the only reason that she was even here was because if she hadn't agreed then her sisters would not have been able to go to college. She guessed there were some things that you had to do by yourself, even if her sisters were angry at her for becomming famous.

Looking around, Scarlett decided to start moving again before people recognized her. It was such a hastle when it happened, she thought, her feel taking on a familliar rythem. Walking away from the street, Scarlett did not notice where she was until she looked up. Since when did she walk into the slums? She wondered, casting a glance around. "I might want to turn back around..." She thought, her fists tightening in alarm. Didn't thugs live in places like this? Being from a small town, Scarlett's mind instantly flashed back to all of the horor stories she had heard before comming to London. Why did she never pay attention to anything? She wondered, looking around almost nervously.

[[Ooc: ]]

-x▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ❝-x ㊋ I pℓαy ωiтн ƒιяє;

αиd иєvєя gєт buяиєd. ㊋-x❞ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅x-

[Nathan_Pierce]

 A hearty laugh escaped the young man's throat, tilting his head back as the boisterous guffaw echoed through the small abandoned building.  Frankie leaned back against the wall, large smile spreading across his countenance as he rubbed his face, trying to contain his humour.  A couple of squatters, both young men adorned in similar garb to the one-eyes man himself, shot up to a stand, shouting at the scene unfolding before them all.  It seemed as though a youthful adolescent, hardly looking fifteen years old, had suddenly gone stark raving mad: the young lad was hysterically yelling and screaming about snakes.  The frantic teenager was slapping and grabbing at himself, starting to strip his clothes in a mania as the two squatters tried to to calm him down.

"Oi, what's wrong Jack?!"
"What the Hell, there's no snakes!  Calm down!"
"Oh my god, they're everywhere!  They're ******** everywhere!"

The boy's shrill cries were of pure terror, frantic wide eyes unfocused and tearing across the interior of the dishevelled edifice.  The prankster sitting against the cool, graffiti-ridden plaster kept laughing, sliding his eye patch back down over his exposed left eye socket now that the poor youth before him was almost completely naked and about to dart out of the building, shrieking the whole way.  Ophidiophobic... Frankie would have never guessed it.  The white cross painted across the cloth eye patch reflected the light trickling into the building, and now the young man let his ice blue eye slide shut, still chortling about the events that had just unfolded before him.  It never got old: every single time it was utterly hilarious.  Even the roughest of men fell to their own fears; when their phobias came to life their masculinity went completely out the window.  Start talking s**t, start acting like you're the dog's bollocks, you better be able to back that s**t up.  Kids were the worst to try strutting, and the easiest to put back in their place.  He chuckled, sniffing and rubbing his face as he tried to contain his laughter.  The large grin peeled across his face was authentically happy, genuinely enjoying watching the young boy going through Hell.  Christ, it was a riot.

Sometimes a man just needs to get out of the comforts of first world life, get out on the streets and sleep out in the urban jungle.  Squatting was not a new endeavour for the young man: having been homeless on and off for the last five years made him familiar with the what to look for in abandoned buildings and forgotten streets.  This building, once an office of some sorts, was now nothing more than a vacant structure attracting spray-painted artwork and the occasional squatter.  It was strange how the guitarist found himself strangely at home in a place so run down and forgotten by humanity.

Snickering, he pulled his athletic frame to a full stand, left hand washing up to let him pull one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it and stepping on the small white stick to extinguish it.  He was alone now: the three squatters he spent the evening and night with long gone.  Admittedly, two of them were definitely good guys to hang out with, but that third little s**t needed to be taught a lesson.  Rolling his shoulders, the male stepped over to the discarded clothing pile, dipping down into a squat to riffle through the male's belongings.  Pocketing the money, and inspecting the shirt, he grinned at himself and tossed the youth's discarded shirt onto his shoulder.  He liked the band depicted across the black fabric, may as well reap the spoils of his victory.  With his winnings, the male exited the building by himself, chains clanking against the back of his studded black leather kutte.  Frankie Teardrop: twenty years old and still just as mature as the day he turned sixteen.  He strolled with an almost dance in his walk, as if he had music playing loudly in his head, freely sauntering out into the open London streets.

He loved this part of the city, far away from the tourist attractions, just on the outskirts of the city proper.  His safety toe boots clunked against the pavement, the start of a beautiful Tuesday afternoon a relief from the rainy past weeks.  All honesty: he could take or leave this city, easily.  It was far too full of pretentious posh snobs, the citizens doing nothing for his loud, reckless personality.  His split-leg plaid trousers were, just as equally, remarkably loud though void of colour: the right solid black trouser leg contrasted wonderfully with its black and white plaid partner.  Tourists were annoying as Hell, always asking him if they could take a picture of him or asking that he take a picture of them near some building or other monument.  He strolled with an amused sway, lop-sided smile spread across his countenance as he reminisced over tourists.  Those were the best, the ones that gave him a camera to take their picture: their faces as he ran off with their camera were priceless.  At least he wouldn't have to deal with it on this side, away from the sight-seeing spots.

A low hum resonated from his throat, shadow casting the male's figure onto the street, putting his large standing mohican on brilliant display.  The buzzed sides of his scalp had tribal impressions through the short hair, designs flowing into the scar spread down the right side of his face.  All in all, he looked like any typical London punk and strolled with the air of a man that simply didn't give a s**t what anyone thought about it.  His DIY leather vest was made from ripping sleeves off a worn leather jacket, frayed sleeves evidence of its transformation, decorated in patches of various bands, studs, and spikes.  The chains across his back patted against a large patch of The Exploited's mohican skull that spread across the back of his kutte.  As he walked, the street punk wished he had another smoke to better enjoy the day.

Rounding the corner, Frankie slowed his gait, left eyebrow propping up on his brow as he took in the backside of someone who did not look at all like they belonged on this end of the city.  A voluptuous silhouette of a redhead walking a few metres ahead of him caught his eye, and his smile started slipping off his masculine face.  Hello... Now that was something he wasn't expecting to see.  She definitely looked as though she should be out walking the busier streets... at night.   The young woman was glancing about her surroundings nervously, as if she'd somehow been transported to this bit of town magically and was assessing her surroundings.  Her shorts were extra short: giving him a terrific view from behind of her long legs, and what he thought looked to be some of her cheeks as well.  His flamboyant saunter lessened to that of a normal stroll, continuing to take in the view the redhead put on display for a moment.  No friends around her?  No purpose in her walk?  What was she doing here?   His gaze snapped up from her posterior to the back of her head.  The twenty-year-old wasn't going to miss this opportunity: a shot never taken guaranteed he wouldn't hit a bull's eye.  May as well fire an arrow and see where it hits.  The tall figure straightened out his kutte, shook out his hands, then picked up his pace.  It wasn't long until the dark-haired male came up alongside her.

"Don't look so nervous there, love, else you'll get tucked up before you know it," a smile peeled across his face as he looked over his shoulder at her.  Her pretty face looked familiar though he couldn't place it at all, and the native continued speaking cheerfully, "It may look dodgy, but it's quite a lovely area, you know.  Friendly blokes, great area to grab something to nosh; no use looking distressed or throwing the toys out to pram.  But how you hold your Chevy can definitely make all the difference in how people perceive a lovely young lady as yourself." He flashed her a smile.  Whoever she was, she had all the right curves in all the right places.  His pace slowed to match hers.  "Need help finding someone or some where?"  He definitely looked looked the part of a hoodlum, but his baritone words suggested otherwise.  Friendly tones poured out his throat, and his smile never left his countenance. 

[Nox Mortia]

>>Dancing in the sky<<

♫ Қɩɑɾɑ 𝕯𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖊 Ϋʊȥʊҡɑ ♫

No way that you can feel me,
No way that you can reach so high,
The stars will shine, and you won’t touch me,
As I’ll be dancing in the sky.

“Mhmm...” Kiara groaned in stern delight as she ravenously continued eating, pushing enormous spoons of cream in her mouth while sounds of pleasure vibrated in the center of her throat. The day appeared to have quite a nice beginning and it was a mystery to her as to why she was the only one out of bed with an unusual appetite on board. Maybe not everyone in the band was as energetic and active as her. She had to constantly remind herself that some people also needed sleep instead of randomly walking around at the weirdest of hours. The coffee maker gave off a short buzz, a signal that the drink was prepared, and as Kiara felt too lazy to raise off that chair in that precise moment, the machine went on to create gurgling noises in lack of water and continued to suck on the air in the filter.

“Sorry sorry sorry...” She mumbled to no one in particular and abruptly snapped her body from the sitting position to rush and press the turn off button. Obediently, the electronic device was silenced. Thin wires of steam crawled upward from around the small pot in perfect circles, as if following an exterior command. She paid not more than a brief interest to the phenomenon and poured her coffee in a beautiful cup, bought also with the money gained from the endless concerts, money which she was not keen on using but which she had been forced to accept because, after all, it was her job, the payment for her hard work.

In the pocket of her shorts a phone vibrated annoyingly, demanding to be either picked up either shut down. She took neither of the two options available and stared at the screen, unblinking until the image died and only the dark mat surface of the screen could be seen. Only the alarm. She had set it a day before in order to not forget about the rehearsals, but it slipped her mind to modify it after they had been given a free day. Silly, she mentally slapped herself and began to take sips of her energizing drink, purring at the warm liquid caressing her insides and filling her body with a comfortable, fresh sensation that nevertheless gave her a few boosts in the positive attitude she already exposed.

Then, more aware that she was alone in the kitchen, she unlocked the keyboard of her phone and rapidly pressed a few buttons. At the end, she hesitated in sending it or not and stared for interminable seconds at the short text. True, she could have personally checked if her friends were awake, or in bed, or outside of the house, but she was not going to go from one quarter to the other with the risk of finding an empty bedroom. That was why phones had been invented, for communication. Eventually, she hit the send button and rolled with her chair.

TO: RS group
TEXT: Are you guys up for something today???    It’s too beautiful a day to stay inside.

She expected no fast reply to the message. In fact, she expected none and it walked out of her mind as soon as she had sent it. In all honesty, she really did not care much if her proposal was accepted or not. If they wanted to spend time by themselves, then she was perfectly fine with it. She could always find something to do by herself.

Kiara threw the empty box of ice cream in the trash can, using the basic movement of a basketball player, and cheered anxiously when she scored a full point. She would give her friend twenty more minutes to give a proper reaction, and if in that interval nothing stirred in the creepily silent house, she would pick her bag and go outside. Her drawer needed new clothes.








>>What I am wearing...<<

[Leelee_Mraz]

They had been outside of the house for about an hour now. They crowded the gated wall and sang, looking up at the fancy house with the tour bus parked in front through the thick iron gate with the security box on the other side, but they sang anyway, hoping for a glimpse of anyone. They all sang, except for one.

Albin Blake was scanning the house for a different reason. He needed to get in. He put his hand in the pockets of his white jeans and studied the house. He already knew that he would not be able to get in from this street. The wall lined the whole street for a while. He knew there had to be another way to get in. He was sure that the only way the the band got in this entrance was through cars. There had to be a foot entrance somewhere. Albin was jolted out of his thoughts and planning by a shrill voice. It was the president of one of the other fan clubs.

“Why are you not singing!?” said a redheaded British girl in full fan club uniform, She was dressed in rainbow everything. It was a real eye sore and he hoped the little tattoo on her her face that read “ I love Leif” wasn’t permanent. Her hands were on her hips. Albin took a step back. “Who are you anyway? I don’t see you wearing the same uniforms as any of the fan clubs here. “ A girl in an over-sized blue shirt that said, “Mrs. Channing” also chimed in.
“Yeah.” She said in agreement. Albin scowled and took a deep breath. Who were these psychos to analyze his behavior? Was this really that important to them? He imagined it was. One of the groups there was a group all the way from Tokyo. Albin straightened his simple, band t-shirt and cleared is throat.

“ My voice is strained from too much singing at the last viewing. I am trying to be prepared for the concert. And I am the only one from my club here today. The rest were....” Albin had most of his lies down by now, but this one was sneaking up on him. There wasn’t really another fan club. He only ever showed up at these things by himself, to get a chance to get one or more of the group members alone. So far he had been unsuccessful. Their security was so tight. He looked at the girls and told them the first thing he could think of. “ ...arrested trying to see a a rehearsal.” Albin nodded. This seemed to work. The girls shrugged and backed off.

“Well. If you are sick. You shouldn’t come. You are not giving them the fan honor they deserve.” She said sticking her nose up and going back to the singing and swaying at the gate. Albin nodded and began to walk away from the gate following the wall to a cross street and turning. He was going to to find a way in today. He had to. He was not one of this people he had been standing with that had nothing to do but devote pointless time and energy to people who they couldn’t see. To him talking to the group was important. It was a matter of life and death.

He could feel the presence of the Dark Shades. They were close. The warriors needed to be revealed to themselves. He had to be the one to do it. He sighed and took a deep breath. How was he going to do it? They were going to think that he was crazy and there would probably only be a small window of time until he was carted out by security. As he walked he thought of what to say, how to phrase it. There was really no easy way to say that someone wasn’t who they thought they were. Yet alone to articulate that they were ancient warriors with a job to do.

Albin continued to walk along the wall leading him to the back of the house where he saw a tree that towered over the wall. He assessed if he could climb. He really only wanted to look to check of security, but it it was feasible he might be able to get in that way...he could go for it. Albin looked around for spectators and seeing that the coast was clear,began to climb the tree.

[Sukimari-234]

❝ ㊋ Scαяℓєtt Jαиє Bяσσks ㊋ ❞

Lσcαtiσи:The streetsxxxxx ωiтн: Myself=> A Charming Thug

Looking around Scarlett took in a bit more of the place before she had to leave. This was definetly a place she shouldn't be, who knew what kind of trouble she could get into. But then again, she heavily doubted that she could get fan stalked in a place like this either.
That idea itself certianly had merit. A lover of going off by herself, Scarlett hated whenever she was recognized by the Rainbow Spice fan group. Though she loved her fan's sometimes she simply wanted to be on her own, not that anyone but her band-mates would understand that.

The red-head nearly jumped out of her skin when a cool, collected voice sounded off not far from her left side. As her dark amber eyes glanced over to him and her body turned towards him, Scarlett was not expecting what greeted her eyes. Tall, tan, in his clothes the boy looked almost like a thug. Eyeing him, Scarlett corrected herself; he was definetly a man not a boy. She took in his almost confident stance and his torn, leather outfit and found herself drawn in slightly by his ruggish appirance. She had always had a thing for bad boys.
Who knew that someone could look so interesting, she wondered, her eyes drinfting over his head. How did he get his hair like that? She wondered, her eyes traveling the patterns of his intricate hair style.

Blinking as suprise littered her pale face, Sorcha tried to understand what he was talking about. Though she had been in England for a little while, Scarlett was still not very good at translating the London lingo. Tucked up? Did that mean picked up? She wondered, frowning slightly. Listening to him as he went on, Scarlett decided that he was definetly a local. There was something familliar about his face... She thought, her head drifting to the side slightly as she tried to figure out what else he was saying. Taking in his smiling face, Scarlett felt a pale blush light her cheeks. He certianly was good looking...

As he finished, Scarlett flashed him a smile as her face colored a little more, he had called her lovley. That was certianly something to keep the conversation going. "Ah, well, I was just out people watching and I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.' She admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "As you can probably guess, I'm not from around here..." She added, lifting her dark amber eyes up to take in Big Ben in the distance. Looking back around, Scarlett gave him a little more friendly smile. She was on break today right? So why not just enjoy her talk with a hansome local? "So since I'm not from around here, What does 'nosh' mean? " She added, hoping that she would not offend him. It seemed that she had a habit of saying the wrong things at the wrong time.

[[Ooc: ]]

-x▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ❝-x ㊋ I pℓαy ωiтн ƒιяє;

αиd иєvєя gєт buяиєd. ㊋-x❞ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅x-

[Nathan_Pierce]

The redhead had been startled by his arrival, crimson locks whirling behind her as she turned her head to face him.  From the side, he had made her out to be pretty, but looking her dead on proved his first assessment incorrect: the girl was gorgeous.  His smile widened, soft clank of his lip piercing Hitting against enamel barely audible as he put his teeth on better display.  The brunette male inwardly cheered at finding such a catch in the most improbable of places.  The native didn't anticipate a small flush to grace the young woman's countenance, and it took everything in him to keep his blue gaze on her amber eyes as opposed to dropping his eye to check out her frontside.  Kept getting better... this situation just kept getting better and better.  The pair strolled down the street, a mismatch of stark femininity and blatant masculinity, and it was noticeable she was checking him out. Her own eyes flicked up to his hair, a common gaze he was accustomed to, before sliding down the rest of his frame, soaking in the various patches and decor adorning his tattered leather kutte.  The young woman surprised him a second time when she opened her mouth and started speaking.  An American accent... It threw off the young man who now tore his gaze from the young woman to instead look before them in the direction they were headed. He had to admit he liked a curvy silhouette and a thick accent, both of which the crimson-haired woman were rocking.  A chuckle escaped his lips, "Yeah, you do sort of stand out... American, right?"  He glanced over his shoulder at her to notice her gaze befall the iconic Big Ben in the far distance.   He'd have to watch what he said now, try to refrain from using local slang.  The way she looked at him implied she wasn't catching onto what he was saying. 

"Surprised to see you on this end of the city, not a fan of the usual sights?" his question was almost an amused chortle, words smoothly peeling out his throat.  "Though I can understand people watching, good for a bubble--- a laugh."  Frankie caught himself about to slip back into the rhyming slang and abruptly corrected himself.  Now that he thought about it, it would be a fun game to try to catch and stop himself from speaking in the playful local rhyming slang.  The fact that she didn't know what 'nosh' meant humoured him: he was certain it was a straight-forward term.  "Nosh.  You know, to eat?"  He looked at her with a lop-sided grin, obviously not at all offended that she asked what it meant.  He'd definitely have to watch his word choice, else he'd be repeating and translating himself more than he'd like. It was far better to listen to her rather than himself. 

"There's a pretty nice local not too far from here, serve great food.  Ah, but they don't take plastic so you better have some readies on you," the male gave her a raise of his eyebrow, and now he couldn't help himself.  His azure gaze flicked down her person before cutting back over to look towards the establishment he was referring to.  Hopefully she hadn't caught his quick peek nor became offended at his wandering gaze. From his swift glance, he assessed she was equally as lovely from the front as from behind.  They passed a pedestrian who cast a wary glance at the pair, mostly to the male, as they carried on in their stroll to nowhere in particular.  "... Fancy anywhere in particular?  Noticed you looking at old Ben there, you visit it yet?"

Without even thinking about it, they were heading towards the tube.  Good luck was still on his side; wherever she may want to go was soon to be within easy reach: only a short ride away.  He had an Oyster card on his person, not his own of course, but it was probably still loaded provided it hadn't been reported missing.  If anything, he could simply skip the stall, especially if she had a valid card or ticket, and ride the Underground less than honestly.  He came to a stop outside the station, pocketing his hands to stand in a slight slouch.  The toned-framed male was easily a head taller than her, and with his mohican on display, nearly towered above her.  Slouching seemed to calm the abrupt height distance between them.   

His band mates would understand him being a little bit late this afternoon: sure they had an album to record, but they knew he was still bitter about selling out.  Being under a local recording company was one thing, but since the buy-out to a larger record company, Frankie had all but gone in kicking and screaming.  It was the reason he opted to squat rather than hang out with the other two who celebrated the band's next step up: selling out was the man's own personal Hell and he wanted to feel the down-to-earth normalcy he found in homeless living.  He pushed aside his trailing thoughts and lifted his eyebrows at her, seeing what Scarlett had to say about where she wanted to go.

[Nox Mortia]

>>Dancing in the sky<<

♫ Қɩɑɾɑ 𝕯𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖊 Ϋʊȥʊҡɑ ♫

No way that you can feel me,
No way that you can reach so high,
The stars will shine, and you won’t touch me,
As I’ll be dancing in the sky.

“You’re a bunch of boring people.” Kiara screamed from the base of the stairs, her healthy voice echoing throughout the whole mansion as she continued calling on her friends. It was weird of them to leave so randomly without previous notification and it would be a total lie to say she was not in the least worried or interested about their safety. Hell, she was dying of curiosity as to where each one of them was located but knew there was nothing else she could do now. Might as well clean up the kitchen and find herself an occupation. After all, this was their free day, so she was willing to spend it by herself if the others refused.

The voice of their fans finally reached her ears and, although she was not an eternal critic, she could not help but observe just how bad they were singing. She was pretty close to grabbing the first hard object in her way and throwing it outside to make them shut up, but a tickling idea in her brain stopped her from doing so and urged her feet to move away from the window. There was again that feeling, that instinct buzzing that there was something getting frighteningly closer. She finished her coffee, washed the cup and walked toward the mirror in the main hall.

She had bags under her eyes caused by the lack of proper rest, and her cheeks lost a bit of their color. Kiara contorted her expression amusingly and slapped her cheeks in an attempt to wake up from the sensation of tiredness still lingering within. As she continued fixing her appearance, she noticed a movement in the tree’s reflection, although the image vanished pretty fast so she had no time to fully ascertain the invader’s identity. Giving him or her ten more seconds, she poked her head out of the window, then the rest of her body and stood at the base with her eyes raised.

“Once are you done with acting like a nimble monkey, or chimp in this case, you might as well come down and have a cup of coffee or tea with me. I don’t think there’s anybody home except myself plus a few maids and to be honest I’m a little bored.” It was just like her to pose such an offer in front of a stranger, but she was aware that should the intruder try to do something inappropriate, he would have a whole group of muscled guards on him in an instant. She doubted that was his intention, so she simply walked away to enter the kitchen from the back door, leaving it open for him to follow. Whether this would prove to have been an intelligent decision or not, she was to see later. For now, one was allowed to be crazy once in a while.






>>What I am wearing...<<

[Sukimari-234]

❝ ㊋ Scαяℓєtt Jαиє Bяσσks ㊋ ❞

Lσcαtiσи:The streetsxxxxx ωiтн: A Charming Thug

Scarlett's gaze was drawn to the Man's lips as a faint clicking drew her attention. He had a lip ring... For some reason Scarlett found that very distracting. Who knew that a lip ring could make someone look so hot? She had never really talked to a guy with a lip ring before, she thought almost giddy. Looking at his light blue eyes, she was so focused on her comanion that Scarlett simply moved to keep up with him.
Being supprised into a grin, Scarlett chuckled slightly self conciously as he acuratly gussed her nationality. "Yeah, this is far from home for me." She admitted, her dark amber eyes glancing over at him.

She felt one of her red eyebrows lift slightly at his word. So bubble ment laugh? That would be good to know, she thought listening to him talk. His words just kind of flowed, though she had listened to plently of British accents since her arrival in England, Scarlett felt herself drawn in by by deep voice. She always did like a boy with a nice vocie. Did he sing? She wondered breifly.
Responding to his alost goofy grin, Scarlett bit back a chuckle. "Okay, so bubble is laugh and Nosh is to eat." She replied, trying to remember the words. Perhaps if she paid more attention to his slang she could learn more herself. The idea of not asking what a word ment was very tempting. "Feel free to keep speaking your slang, as long as you tell me what it means I can probably start to remember it." She encouraged him, hoping he would agree. She suddenly had an itch to learn English slang. "But I enjoy the usual sights, but..." She shrugged feeling a little self consious. She did not plan on telling him who she was or why she really couldn't go see the sights. Once she was there Scarlett was certian that she would be fan stalked. Today was her free day, she did not want to be bothered with her fans. "They can get boring. I wanted to have an exciting day, not one full of the same old things. I havn't seen Big Ben yet though, not that I want to risk the crowd. " She confided, feeling that it was close enough to the truth.

Looking back at the street for the first time, the young woman would not have noticed his look down her body if she had not been looking at him out of the corner of her eye. This caused a breif smirk to pull at her lips. It seemed that they were both checking each other out. Nodding as he talked about having cash on her for food, Scarlett was relieved that she had stuffed a twenty into her bra before she had left. Of course she had her record label credit card in her pocket, but she really didn't like using plastic. It reminded her too much of the fact that she was in a famous pop band.
As her stomach rumbled at him mention of food, Scarlett felt another pale blush cover her cheeks. That was the bad thing about being a red-head, whenever she was even remotly embarrised a blush could cover her pale cheeks. "Food sounds awesome, and I've got some cash." She replied, rubbing the back of her head slightly. Not even noticing the pedestian that walked by her and her very male companion. "You know all of the local spots right?' She asked, a teasing tone to her voice. "I'll eat pretty much anything, so pick a place." She said, her bossy side showing a little bit. Grinning up at him, Scarlett hoped that he planned to eat with her. He was interesting, and she would be lying if she would have said that she was not just interested in him for his voice. The man was nice to simply look at.
Looking down at her pocket as her phone vibrated, Scarlett gave him another sheepish grin. "Oops, sorry." She appologized, pulling out her phone. Flipping it open, She eyed the message from Kaira. Quickly texting back Sorcha kept the screen so that her interesting friend could not see it.

To: Kaira
Message: Sorry, Met a hot local boy, may being going on a date...Catch you later. >: D

Closing off her phone, Scarlett shoved it into the small pocket that her short shorts provided her. Looking back up at him, Scarlett gave him what she hoped was a charming smile. "I'm Scarlett by the way.' She said, holding her hand out to shake his.



Scarlett's outfit

[[Ooc: Hm... I think I have finally decided upon icons...After three tries....XD. ]]

-x▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ❝-x ㊋ I pℓαy ωiтн ƒιяє;

αиd иєvєя gєт buяиєd. ㊋-x❞ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅x-

[Leelee_Mraz]

Albin’s muscles strained as he hoisted himself from branch to branch, up the tree that hung close to the house. The tree had proved more challenging than he thought that he would. He pulled himself onto a tree branch and stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He really needed to work out more. He caught his breath and began to scooch up on the branch and peak over the wall. Hmmmm. He pondered. He didn’t see any dogs or guards on the premises. What kind of security could they possibly be using? It wasn’t that bad of a drop, but Albin was too unsure of the security to risk it. He was about to climb back out of the tree when a window opened and a voice startled him.

“Once are you done with acting like a nimble monkey, or chimp in this case, you might as well come down and have a cup of coffee or tea with me. I don’t think there’s anybody home except myself plus a few maids and to be honest I’m a little bored.”

Albin looked up and found himself starting into a pair of silky caramel eyes. Albin floundered. “I...I um...uh...” He was looking into the face of the orange warrior. He could tell her from anywhere. He looked at her in wonder. He was slightly overwhelmed at the sudden presence of someone who, in spirit, he had considered a friend. In his wonderment, he lost his grip on the tree and fell out of it landing on his side in the manicured grass. “oww...” He said turning and standing up as quickly as he could. His cheeks grew pink. The door to the house opened and remained open. Who would have thought this would be the easy part.

He dusted himself off and and slowly approached the door and went in, finding himself in a kitchen. He smiled. They were living well. This made his apartment look like a rat trap. He looked around until his eyes locked on her. He resisted the strong urge to hug her. He knew that it would be meaningless to her and only make the situation worse.

“Kiara?” he said taking a few steps toward her. “ Um...hi.” He said waving awkwardly. “ Sorry. I just wanted to see....um...I’m a fan...” He said looking down, finding it extremely awkward to be speaking to someone that he was wearing on his shirt. His eyes flashed to the posing Kiara on his shirt, then back at her. ” Do you... normally let fans in when you are bored?”

[Nox Mortia]

>>Dancing in the sky<<

♫ Қɩɑɾɑ 𝕯𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖊 Ϋʊȥʊҡɑ ♫

No way that you can feel me,
No way that you can reach so high,
The stars will shine, and you won’t touch me,
As I’ll be dancing in the sky.

Kiara walked once again to the fridge, thinking about what to serve the new guest since was not exactly acquainted enough with him to know what he preferred, or if he preferred anything at all. No matter how she looked at the situation, she found herself in an awkward position. Maybe she was a friendly girl, she could crawl underneath anyone’s skin and yet, she was horrible a host as she was a chef, and damn she was the worst in the team. Not once since living here had she burned down cakes and even set the table on fire. Maybe that was one of the reasons she had the special fire squad on speed dial. As she took out two cans of soda, her phone sent off a small buzz, an obvious indicator that a text had been received. Placing the sodas on the table, she took out her communication device and blinked at the screen. Scarlet, date, new guy (just met). That was an unexpected thing coming from an overly pretentious, organized girl like the band’s leader but she decided to pry into the topic later when they would have the chance to meet. Kiara clicked a short sms and drew the curtains, letting light sneak inside the kitchen.

TO: Scarlet
TEXT: No worries, things got interesting here as well X.O.X.O love : >

At least one of her friends had the cheek to answer her text. It took one of the many burdens from her shoulders. Although, if she thought about it, there were still a few more that did not bother to pick up their phone and gratify her with a message. Somehow, in contrast with the anticipation, a new feeling made way inside her heart. Anger, or just a tinge of it. She only went like this whenever life was going to take an unfavorable turn on a mud, dirty street instead of rolling neatly across the straight, polished one, and she could not find another source except the guy who had just descended from the skies. From the tree more accurately, but that was of no relevance. She looked at him as he entered, putting the soda in his hands before jumping on the counter with her face to him.

Her mood, even though for a while, returned to its normal bubbly, cheerful state. Perhaps exhaustion also played a place in making her senses go berserk at each unexpected occurrence, or in this case person, so she dismissed the negative thoughts from her mind and lowered her gaze to his shirt. Fan? Was he obsessed with them, or just insane enough to assume the consequences of invading one’s personal territory. His question made her laugh.

“No, I do not.” She answered artfully, amusement still dancing beneath her tones. “But I did not want to keep you outside since you were so keen on entering. Unfortunately, I am afraid that for now you only have me on your head.” Kiara continued with a smile, uncorking the can.“Now tell me what is it that brings you here? And do not give me the fan excuse, for I’m not totally buying it.” True, it was often she gave off the impression that she hid nothing under her pretty hair, but Kiara was even more observant when people did not worry about her suspecting anything, hence why she had had no difficulty in seeing past the façade of this guy from the first moment. He wanted something from them, and she was looking forward to discovering precisely what.






>>What I am wearing...<<

[GodsOwnDeathAngel]

For some reason, the bass was just not lining up properly with the rest of the music. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get it to work. Victoria sighed and lifted her tape recorder to her mouth before clicking the red button. "Bass for Broken Hearts Equal Gray Dreams needs to be rerecorded. We should look into firing whoever did it the first time around." She hit the stop button and leaned back in her chair. It wasn't that she was obsessive with her work. Victoria just wanted to have her own touch on each song, something different than just being one of six voices. It certainly helped that she had the highest range, but hitting the highest notes wasn't enough. Every time she opened one of the CDs and saw her name in the production credits, that was a mark of pride, the same as when she slipped on an outfit she made herself or kissed a boy she had trained to kiss just right.

"I'm a right bloody mess," she muttered to herself. As her stomach growled, she reached for her mobile to check on the time. There was a text message from Kiara asking if she could hang out. "Well, it is our day off," she mused. "I really should do something fun. Maybe I can talk her into putting something nice and going out. Oooh, dancing!"

TO: Kiara
TEXT: I'm completely done for that! I'm wrapping things up at the studio, I'll be at the house in ten.

It didn't take long to shut everything down. Within moments, Victoria was on her way out the door and through the streets. She wore a little gray dress that hugged her every curve, embroidered on one side with purple flowers in a vine that grew up her side before curling around her breast. A long, sheer shawl in silver kept the sun off of her shoulders; she would never freckle if she could manage it, only tan slow and steady. Her plum-colored stilettos clacked along the sidewalk as her long legs made wide strides. With sunglasses on, it was unlikely anyone would recognize her out of her signature color. That was part of why she only wore green when she had to.

[Nox Mortia]

You know you just can't kill a man when he's dead
You know the spirit survives
You can't stop the advance of the Kingdom to come
You know the truth is alive...

Everyone was out, probably causing troubles as usual.

Only one man resumed on staying inside the house for the simplest of reasons, he had company. A beautiful girl, in her twenties with blonde hair swirling around her just like a bride’s veil wrapped her perfectly built legs around him while her insatiable mouth swallowed each single part of him from the neck to the lips, ear, stomach, constantly appearing to find an area which she had accidentally left uncovered in order to rouse him again into action. Men were demanding when it came to their sexual life, and not small was his surprise to discover that women were nonetheless of the same faction, or even more hungry because their brain worked on a different frequency. This particular specimen was the perfect example that stood as a strong proof for his previously stated theory.

With his body aching to have her again, Lorenzo smiled artfully and stroked the small of her back using his hands. He quickly pinned her to the bed and arranged himself on top of her curvaceous figure, fully claiming her mouth with a violent kiss. She struggled to release her hands, only half serious about it, and rubbed one knee teasingly up and down his manhood to express her impatience. “Honestly..” He whispered as he looked down at her. “Do you ever get tired?” The blonde, proceeding on answering his question without necessarily using words, entangled her fingers in his ebony hair and pulled his lips to her again. The atmosphere heated, and the minimum number of clothes they had put on a few hours ago when they had decided to have some sleep now flew off all over the room, a pair of red undergarments hanging lazily down the door’s metallic knob as sounds of raw delight poured out from both of them.

“You know..” She murmured after they finished, stretching languorously next to him, a slow motion in which she flattened her abs and pushed her chest upward. “I might get used to this.” Her words did not reach him though. He was focused on the outline of her breasts dignified in the dim lit environment, his tongue running swiftly against his bottom lip at the outrageously seductive sight. Tired as he might be, he would still be up for round three if it were not for the jobs he had to handle today. “I know love.” He kissed her again while he removed the blanket to fully expose her body, her bare flesh which was as tempting for him as honey was for a bee. “But I have to go now, so feel free to stay here although I cannot promise you any safety. I’m afraid you might get harassed.” How fake, as if he truly cared about her. She was one lucky little thing he had made him feel so good. Otherwise, there was still that dagger patiently waiting under the drawer to be used.

After he blew her one last kiss, Lorenzo walked inside his shower and let water clean his skin of the prior night’s remnant without further worrying of her departure. His assumption had proven correct as usual. She gathered her things and silently tip toed out of his room, indulging herself in a merry song as soon as the door closed behind her. Clearly, this had been a happy moment for everyone. He felt boosted with energy, as he always had whenever a woman graced his bed with her presence, and he decided against drinking coffee today. Who needed it when women were so addictive?

Once in clean air, Lorenzo took out from the garage his car, one of the most expensive models from Jaguar, XJ. Beside females, this was his second passion, his second love, his precious ‘girl’ which, should it be even scratched by someone, he would tear that person’s insides in an instant. The engine screamed a defiant roar and the door of the garage opened to admit exit for the man, sliding down to the ground precisely three seconds after he turned into the street. London was pretty calm today, not to mention frighteningly sunny. The extreme light bothered him, but since there was nothing that could not be corrected by a pair of sunglasses, he put the object on to shield his eyes. While he rode, heavy metal booming at maximum, his gaze came across quite an awkward feminine figure dressed in grey and purple. The contrast alone was intriguing, so he pulled his vehicle next to her and took off his glasses.

His eyes of a blatant crimson met hers; not faltering while sweet sounds of deceit left his mouth. There was a reason he was called ‘Snake tongue’ and that was because his voice had a strange, but utterly attractive allure to it that not many could resist. “Need a ride?” He inquired, smiling benevolently.

With silence comes peace
With peace comes freedom
With freedom comes silence...

[GodsOwnDeathAngel]

This was why she loved living in London, even if she was far from her family. Whenever Victoria started to feel just a little lonely, she just had to put a tight dress on over her curves and walk outside. Invariably, she could find someone to lift her spirits; and if they didn't talk to her, they certainly stared. She knew she looked good, and she was willing to flaunt it.

"Need a ride?"

Look, she caught one. Her lips curled in a smile and she walked to the curb, hips swaying a little. "Oh, I'm just heading around the corner. My place is pretty close by." She rested her hands on the door, stroking the metal briefly before she bent at the waist, still hiding her own eyes behind her sunglasses. "Beautiful ride, though. She purrs for you." The pale-eyed young woman finally pushed her sunglasses up atop her short, curly charcoal tresses. "What's your name, pretty boy?"