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xxxxxthat shrewd and knavish sprite, are not you he?xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
that frights the maidens of the villagery;
skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
and bootless make the breathless housewife churn;
and sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
those that hobgoblin call you and sweet puck,
you do their work, and they shall have good luck;
xxxare you not [s]he?
xxxHer bed was flush against the wall beneath the only two windows in the room. They were both halfway open, and she knew it without even opening her eyes. A breeze passed through the screen, which would have done a wonderful job at keeping the bugs out if they weren't so infernally small and could squeeze right through the mesh holes. There were curtains covering the windows and though they obscured the view from either direction they were a diaphanous material to allow the sunlight to pass through. Her skin felt warm in the rising sun. She never needed the alarm clock that sat by her bed; the birds outside her window woke her up every morning and it was more pleasant to awake to birdsong than a mechanical beep. Rio opened her eyes and looked at the clock. It was just a few minutes after 7 AM, and she stretched, reaching her fingers to the wall and stretching her feet off the end of the bed. She threw back the covers and jumped out, wide eyed with wild hair sticking up in every direction.
xxxShe didn't need any time to "wake up" and hated to lie in bed after she was awake. Rio was one of those rare morning bird and night owl, capable of running at full capacity on a handful of hours of sleep. She never felt tired, and only drank coffee for the taste of it, never because she felt tired. She was wearing a pair of old shorts made of sweatpants material and a sleeveless white shirt. She pulled on a pair of socks and dashed out into the small living room, sliding expertly across the floorboards. She lived in a small flat with one bedroom, a bathroom, kitchen/dining room, and a living room. That's all she needed, though. Too much space and she didn't know what to do with it. There was something comforting about being in a small and rather cramped space. It was how she explained away the mess that was her room. Well, mess was too tame a word; a vortex would be a better word to describe it. It made her feel cozy if she was in a small space, and paranoid if there were too many rooms that she couldn't watch easily, especially at night. Nothing had ever happened, and maybe she had seen too many crime shows, but it was easy to be paranoid when you were by yourself.
xxxShe turned on the radio, turning up the volume as loud as she could tolerate it and blasted her CD of favorite energetic songs. It was something of a ritual; she listened to mostly the same songs every morning. It always made her feel like it was giving her the extra bounce in her step, like a fresh glass of orange juice always seemed to energize her body. She danced through her apartment, singing at the top of her voice. It was a small apartment, but luckily it was not part of a complex. It was on a piece of property that was set back a bit from the road compared to the other apartments and small houses. This odd placement of her home made it well situated to afford her a certain level of privacy, whether it meant not hearing everything going on in the road or in her neighbor's houses or keeping her neighbors from complaining about her noise, it was extremely convenient. It was not a wealthy section of town, but she preferred to live with the hippies and the punks and the kids turning just twenty.
xxxEven the at times frighteningly chauvinistic men that sat on their porches drinking beer and smoking cigarettes and either called lewd things to passers-by or smashed their bottles out in the road had their neighborhood charm. She thrived on drama though she preferred to keep herself above it, always looking in as an outsider. It kept her life relatively stable despite how often she moved around to new places (for she also needed novelty in her life) but it did not afford her much interpersonal contact. She had been too trusting in the past, to open and honest, too...dependent on someone else for her own happiness. Well she had thoroughly learned her lesson, and if it was a bit harsh at least it had been learned early on in her life so that she could correct her behavior to avoid that unpleasantness in the future. She finished eating and put her dishes in the sink, then traipsed into her bedroom to get ready for the day, dancing all the way.
xxxHer light blue tee bore the image of a unicorn that said "they do exist" underneath, and there was a black patch in the knee of her tight jeans that she had cut one summer into capris that fell mid-calf and frayed slightly. She wore a pair of converse high-tops in zebra print, and a plain black belt around her waist with a rather intricate holographic belt-buckle with her name on it. She slung a messenger bag over her shoulder and opened it up, checking the inventory to make sure she had everything. Wallet (with only her id and membership cards)? Check. Money stuffed in her bra for safekeeping? Check. Cellphone? She pulled it out of the bag and stuffed it into her pocket. Check. Notepad and pens? Check. Sketchbook and pencils? She ran through it all in her head, checking to make sure it was all there. When she felt completely ready, she slipped out the door, ruffling her hair, wiping the hair product off onto her pants. Her hair was sticking up in all directions, but this time it was on purpose; not just because she tossed and turned in her sleep. Her hair was dark brown with highlights, cut in layers that fell just past the top of her ears. She preferred her hair to be short; when it was long, it was just too much of a pain to take care of. She could wash her hair and just leave it without brushing it. She liked to put some generic brand hair gunk in it to make it stand up a bit.
xxxShe enjoyed looking a little chaotic.
xxxShe checked the watch strapped to her wrist, shaking her arm to part the varied bracelets that were covering the face of the watch so she could read the time. She still had a few hours before she had to be at work; that was one of the great things about Healthy Living; it was owned by a couple of health food hippies. She had worked at health food stores that were owned by a bunch of yuppies that only saw it as a way to make money; the woman that owned this store had started out with a small stand at a farmer's market and worked her way up to the large store it was now. She really cared about what she sold, who was selling it, and that everyone was happy. She wanted her workers to be happy, not just the clients; she believed that if the employees interacting with people were happy, they were bound to work harder and make the clients happy in turn. It was good business practice, and it meant that there was little actual pressure to do things--just the desire to keep the job and make their boss pleased. Thinking about how lucky she was to work in such a relaxed environment compared to so many people that had to deal with deadlines, tyrant bosses, exploitative managers, and a boring or redundant routine every day, she slung her messenger back so it was against her back and tightened the strap so it would stay that way, looping it around her neck as well so it fell across her chest and back at an angle. She unlocked her bike and looped the lock around the strap and re-locked it, then mounted the bike and set off for town.
xxxAs she was riding down a mellow hill, all she could hear was the whistle of the wind in her ears. Her hair, mostly plastered to her head and flaring back, made her remember that she really ought to get a new helmet. Her old one had, ironically enough, broken when she dropped it down a hill a few days ago. She might look silly riding with a hulking piece of plastic over her head, but at least she was marginally safer. You could never be completely safe no matter what precautions you took in life, but every little step was better than nothing. She mentally reviewed how much money she had on her person and what she was planning on using it for today, but there really wasn't much at all. She didn't have to worry bout food, because she just got free food at work. If she was really pressed, she could just make herself a smoothie at her little coffee/smoothie island. Even though the pay was kind of s**t compared to some places she had worked, the trade-off was being able to take free food. Maybe when I get there I'll have myself a.....strawberry smoothie. No; raspberry. Oooh....both? she contemplated her choices, then rejoiced in the small amount of relief she felt that this morning, that was her biggest concern.
xxxAs she stood before the crosswalk standing next to her bike, she glanced up at the traffic light. She had just missed the red light, and now had to wait for the cars to stop before she could make her crossing, necessary in her route to work (she liked to meander about the town and take her time). She happened to look into Javascript, which was directly opposite from where she was standing. Luckily it was close enough to see right into the window, and what she saw was....delightful. As previously stated, she thrived on drama. Her friend Evan was highly embroiled in a dramatic romance, involving Jodie and Benjamin. She knew them, though perhaps not well and not on a personal level; simply through gossip and her own private observation. She had a feeling that Jodie was likely inclined to dislike her simply on the premise that she hung around Evan. It was a purely platonic relationship between them, //of course. Sometimes she thrilled in flirtation, but she was not the type to sleep with someone just for their charming airs. She was more the type that preferred to manipulate the love lives of those around her, promoting romantic drama in the lives of everyone else but herself. When she finally got the walk signal, she skipped across the street whistling in high spirits. She took her time locking up her bike while she watched the scene unfolding in the shop. She waited for an opportune moment to make her entrance. All right, so sometimes she enjoyed having drama in her life, but she wanted to be in complete control of it. She hated when she found herself mired in a stressful situation, but if she was the one instigating the drama; well, that was different. Of course, she'd be the first to admit to hypocrisy, and in fact it was something she considered a bit of a personality trait of hers. It made life easier to be able to say what you think but do whatever you feel like. If you're honest and upfront about being a hypocrite, people would be less inclined to hold you to your opinions and values, and that's what suited her perfectly. She saw the young woman turn to address the two young men involved in her little love triangle, and it was at that moment that she pushed through the front doors, slipped past Jodie, and approached Evan.
xxx"Morning, Evan and strangers....what's kickin'?" She grinned, relishing the tense atmosphere. Ahh, it was a good day when she came to Cohen...
{{ sorry it took so long ._______.' and if its a bit confusing/superlame.
I wrote it then realized she only knows Evan personally and tried to fix it. D:
if there is anything weird uh......please ignore it? hahaha...
also, hope you don't mind me crashing the coffee parteeee ;D }}
xxxxxthou speak'st aright; i am that merry wanderer of the night.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
and sometime lurk i in a gossip's bowl,
in the very likeness of a roasted crab,
and when she drinks, against her lips i bob
and on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
and then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
and waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
a merrier hour was never wasted there.
xxxjust call me P U C K.
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