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 Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 8:49 pm
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Taima was so tired of seeing those Jackdamned prom flyers everywhere. The halls seemed to be wallpapered with them, obscuring more worthwhile signs for upcoming classes and field trips and things more worthwhile than some dumb dance. She had gone last year, and while she had met some interesting people, mostly she remembered Danny getting glitter all over her wings. It had taken forever to get it all out, and it was not an experience that Taima was eager to repeat.
Her lip curled in annoyance as she ripped a flyer off of her dorm room door, taking the barest hint of solace in the fact that at the very least, her room would remain prom-free. She dumped the paper on the end of her bed along with the rest of her assorted books and binders and promptly put it out of her mind.
It wasn't until later that evening, when she was sitting in bed reading and idly preening, that she gave it another thought. Taima had been using the flyer to collect the loose and broken feathers with the intent of just throwing it all out when she was done. She didn't notice until after she was finished with her book and getting everything sorted for bed that she had divided them into little piles of black and gold and blue. The thunderbird thought nothing of it at first, but maybe she was overtired, or maybe the thought of prom had been lingering, buried, in the back of her mind. Either way, something clicked as she looked at the pile of feathers on top of an encouragement to go to prom.
Feathers flew as Taima snatched the flyer off of the bed and ran for the door, literally flying down the hallway before she realized she had no idea where she was going. A few rushed inquiries to whatever poor souls she encountered that were unfortunate enough to still be out at this late hour provided Taima with the information that she needed. Soon enough, she was knocking insistently on a door, hoping fervently that it was the right one.
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Posted: Wed Jun 19, 2013 8:11 pm
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Despite his 'romantic' success the two years before, this year Nuk had had absolutely no intentions of going to Prom. Every year, the skinwalker went, looking out of place and disheveled compared to the glittering dresses and the well-dressed. And by the end of the night, every year he had some ghoul's lips against his neck, crooning something low and saccharine, shadows hardly concealing lingering desires and sexual tension. While the other couples danced and laughed and played games, he snuck away with a ghoul he'd never met, lewd pawing replacing the romantic lace of fingers.
This year, he didn't want it.
Don't get him wrong, it had been great. It was everything he'd wanted at the time, boosting his ego and his masculinity, and yes, even taking the edge off the loneliness which had been present, even as far back as then. He liked ghouls, he still argued with himself; he'd enjoyed it, had deviously reveled in it. Now the memories disgusted him. Confused him as he paced restlessly, obsessing over the redhead he now knew to be a hunter. If his pining over a man distressed him, trying to go back to how things had been before drove him to anger and frustration. Prom would be the epitome of everything which currently infuriated him, reminding him at every turn that not only was he not with who he wanted to be with, but that he never would be. Seeing the beautiful ghouls in the dazzling dresses would remind him that that's not what he wanted, and that no one wanted that with him.
This thought had come to him one idle tombsday afternoon, and had sent him down a dark, spiraling path which had left him confined to his room and his own brooding thoughts. As if to add insult to injury, he didn't even have to leave for food; with the FEAR in the air, he couldn't starve.
This was where Taima found him that evening. The knock on the door drew his attention, glowing amber eyes sliding open to peer across the ink-black room, the only light-source. At first, he considered ignoring it, unwilling to deal with the mild scolding of his friends, their coaxing attempts to get him to go to class. But after a second, the skinwalker make a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat and sat up from where he'd been sprawled broodingly across his bed, clawed feet touching the bare floor as he stood, padding towards the door and swinging it open slowly, his expression skeptical and dark... if only for a moment. In that second, his eyebrows lifted a little, genuine surprise lacing his eyes as he met the thunderbird's gaze, clearly having been expecting someone else.
"Hey," he offered, his expression still a little quizzical, curiosity starting to win out over his moodiness, "What's up Taima?"
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Interesting Conversationalist
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