s a m p l e s ? - *

[MearaT]

MEARA T'S SAMPLE THREAD. <3

[MearaT]

Well, Rheyanne had obviously discovered her alarm clock and its new indestructibility.

Lou sat up and rubbed his head, feeling the bump where he'd smacked it against the nightstand and thinking for a little while. The woman could yell. Normally he wouldn't fall out of bed like that, but he'd been up so late reviewing files, organizing things, trying to make two and two equal four... And, if he was being honest with himself, waiting for everyone to come Home. It wasn't a big deal. But leaving them out there on their own made him paranoid, and when you were feeling paranoid it was hard to read reports and do complex mathematical equations and overall function in any way whatsoever.

He yawned and got up off the floor. A few papers rustled from under him, and he sighed softly, gathering them into his hands and pushing a lock of dark, wavy hair out of his face. He tapped them all together and then stood, tossing them on his desk. Then he glanced at his laptop, still open and running, and wrinkled his nose uncharacteristically, watching numbers and letters scroll across the screen. It was still running all of the probability tests he'd given it yesterday, almost seventeen hours ago. With a sigh, he reached forward and shut it off. Another failure. There were too many possibilities.

And he thought he'd been so close to isolating his mutant genome. So close.

He shuffled into the bathroom, rubbing an eye and flicking the light on. He peered in the mirror and brushed his hair from his eyes for a moment, leaning close and studying his face. He ran a hand long his cheeks and chin. He needed to shave, but he just didn't have the energy this morning. Odds were that Rhey was going to get on his case the instant she saw him, and he started formulating comebacks about her hangover in his head. It always went like this... he planned and calculated a lot, and she was just too predictable. But... also utterly unpredictable. It was absolutely infuriating. He could tell how she'd react to being prodded, or teased... but whenever he sent her out to find something, she always ended up doing her own thing and somehow blowing something up. It was incredibly unsubtle.

It was a love-hate relationship. It was amazing how much crap they put each other through, and how they could still have those weird moments where they just... got it. You had to really know someone well to bug someone this badly.

He stood up, brushing at his shirt. It was a t-shirt, white, oversized, hanging on him like a sheet on a broomstick. He was getting thinner. How absolutely irritating. He spun to the door, his bare feet shuffling out into the hall, determined to eat as much as possible.

He'd come to terms with his body deteriorating, but seeing it so plainly was quite possibly even more annoying than Rheyanne.

He managed to make it to the cafeteria. It already smelled like coffee and pizza, and he caught sight of Leanna and Rhey in some sort of discussion. Leanna looked about as normal and, in all honesty because he was an honest person, pretty as ever, while Rhey obviously had the predicted hangover. He couldn't stand the smell or sight of alcohol in the slightest. It was nauseating. And, evidently, it made people do stupid things, like, say, start a bar fight in the middle of a top secret mission and come home with a bruised back and knuckles split from punching people in the mouth.

He couldn't believe she'd been planning on being a cop. She'd have to arrest herself quite possibly every other day for being a nuisance.

"Have I told you how much I hate you?" He came up behind them, smiling sweetly and pouring some coffee for himself. Black. Bit of creme, so much sugar it wasn't even really coffee so much as slush. That was one thing he and Rhey had in common-- Straight coffee intolerance. "Not yet? Rheyanne Laura, I hate your guts. Now move so I can sit down. Hello, Leanna. You seem to be having a better morning."

{{Out Of Candy: }}

[MearaT]

I can't stand to flyXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXI'm not that naive

Matthew would have been woken up by Dom's message, except for the fact that his parent's yelling had beaten him to it.

At first he didn't know what was going on, except that he had fallen out of bed and was now wrapped in blanket and moderately confused as to which way was up. Then he managed to put two and two together and sighed, pulling his head back into his comforter like a turtle. Seriously? What time was it? They couldn't wait another hour to get out of their stupid zone and start biting each other's heads off? He stared at the inside of the blanket, tracing the plaid as the voice switched from his mother's to his father's. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to shut them out. Maybe it he ignored them, they'd go away. He willed the world to melt, at least for an hour, so he could sleep and not have to deal with any of this. Of course, no such luck. He grimaced and struggled to his feet, dropping his blanket to the ground and sighing, running a hand through his messy hair. Then he shuffled into the hall, where the light blinded him, and walked right into his mother interjecting on what was going to be a very long argument.

"...and what, did you think that just because we're rich that I wouldn't even glance at the bills? You still haven't explained! A hotel? When in the world did you stay at a hotel?"

Matt winced, poking a finger in one ear. His mother had the highest voice on the planet. It was like listening to a chihuahua on crack. She was squeaking all the way until his father cut her off, with his chocolate tenor. In a way, it was worse. His dad's voice made pretty much every hello he said to the opposite gender sound like he wanted to sleep with them. Hell, for all Matt knew, he did. But it was driving him crazy. Both of his parents seemed determined to catch each other in some sort of massive scandal so they could divorce. Did this make him happy? No, no it didn't. It actually put him in a rather pissy mood.

"Mom, Dad. Really, it's early. Can we all just go to bed?" He rubbed his eyes. He was still pretty dizzy from standing up so fast. Ugh. Why did he even try?

"Matthew. Go. Now."

Matt groaned. Oh, here we go. "No, I will not go, thanks. Dammit, guys, my school burned down! And you can't even stop for two friggin' seconds? You have to be kidding me!"

And of course that set them both off at once. Great. Someone was telling him that he was talking back, and that he needed to know his place, and someone else was telling him that he needed to mind his own business and know his place and get better grades and... Okay, he was done. He did an immediate about-turn, put his hands up in exasperation, and walked right back in his room, slamming the door.

Well, this was a great morning.

He bent over to pick up his stuff, and his phone beeped. He grabbed it, tossing his blanket back on his bed while he flipped it open. His mouth twitched into a smile despite himself.


Dom~
Old man beat you to it.
I. Need. Coffee.

~Matt

He sent the message, and then sighed and looked at himself in the mirror. He was an exhausted mess, brown hair sticking up every which way... he ran a hand through it and then went to go shower in his giant, enormous, lonely bathroom



Ooc: Post style will probably change. ^^''

[MearaT]

Adrian pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and whistled.

Swank. He grinned and slid his glasses back down, whistling absently as he wheeled his bag along. Nice hotel. Maybe not the greatest in the universe, but definitely nicer than the old-school motels they used to take 'family vacations' in. Of course, it was probably better than way. You weren't allowed to throw food and almost kill each other in fancy hotels, and you most certainly weren't allowed to wake up your youngest brother at two in the morning with silly string. Speaking of which, he had some in his bag. He hadn't quite decided what to use it for yet, but man, one of these mornings someone was getting it.

"Yo! Daemon! Aaron! Bryce! Get your lazy butts out here and see this!" He wheeled past the pool... and stopped. Stared a little bit. "If it makes you move faster, there are hot girls working out by the pool. If not, you have issues." Adrian fixed his hat, turning away. He tried not to look too hard at them. Chances were Aaron'd have their hearts in his hand before he even got to introduce himself, so what was the use setting yourself up for disappointment? Besides, not many girls were into your average, everyday smartass. Guitarists, maybe, provided said guitarist didn't actually open his mouth. Which was a problem, seeing as him and his mouth had severe control issues.

It took him a while, but he managed to stroll into the lobby and do exactly three things at once: Check in, get his key, and severely piss off whoever was working behind the desk. He had a feeling he was going to get a three-in-the-morning wake-up call. Of course, like always, did that really matter? At least wake-up-call-people didn't have sharpie markers and a blowhorn. Being the oldest of eight kids really made you resilient when it came to being annoyed.

Everything blurred by. He was so intent on getting rid of his stuff and exploring that he barely remembered what his room looked like when he tossed his bag in it. He swung is guitar on his back, feeling its familiar weight like a security blanket. He smiled. That was the feeling of everything being right in the world. He slid down the stairs rather than taking the elevator, and then started to poke around, waiting impatiently for everyone else. He saw a gym, a sauna, the pool. Should he even try the pool? Ah, well, just because he had a snowball's chance in hell didn't mean he couldn't scope out the girls. He poked his head out.

{OoC: Post style subject to spaztic change XD wanted to hurry and post!}

[MearaT]

If shame had a face, I think it would kind of look like me. ▌ ♥██ █ ▌█
If it had a home, would it be in my eyes? XXX

Ryan stretched. It wasn't anything big, just a small movement as he straightened himself out in the sheets, slowly opening his eyes to the morning as it came in through the window. He watched the sunlight for a moment, letting it create small spots of light in his blue eyes as day crept into the room, spreading tentatively across the carpet and illuminating the small body beside him. He blinked softly. It was just another morning. But at least it was just another morning with her in it.

That was a bit of a fear of his, waking up alone.

He rolled onto his side, draping an arm over her and pulling her close. He blinked at the blankets for a moment, his mind floating through thoughts absently. He wasn't quite awake enough to grasp all of them completely, but he didn't mind so much this morning. Things were better if he just... didn't think about it. Pushed it out of his head. Then he didn't have to feel... well, bad.

He liked her. He really did. But he couldn't just... It was... He was uncommitted. He'd decided that forever ago. Maybe it was cruel and rude to keep himself emotionally distant from all of the girls who got attached, but... well, being committed meant opening yourself up to getting really, really hurt. And the last thing he wanted was to feel that again.

But for now, Scarlett was here. His best friend. She was always there somewhere, holding him up. Another part of him. And even then, he couldn't make himself get into a relationship. No, even then he could only go so far as coming together every once in a while so they could wake up like this some mornings. Maybe it was less painful, but even he knew it was pathetic.

But being pathetic was all right. It was hard to feel down, really. Even if they weren't 'together,' she'd always be there, the way she always had been. And even when life was dark, at least he had that.

He pressed his lips to her ear. Didn't say much. He felt... a bit happier this morning, at least, and that seemed like a sufficient 'good morning to you' to him. Then he slowly sat up, stretching and going through things in his head. Parents were out, so maybe they could head downstairs and grab something to eat before the day caught up with them. His heart sunk. The world had a way of doing that... running up behind him and covering him in muddy water. Moments, slow, carefree ones like this, couldn't last forever. Sooner or later, life came back and bit you in the a**.

"Hungry?" He said softly, stretching one more time to get rid of a sore spot in his back. He turned to look at her, running a hand through his hair and blinking tiredly. He adjusted the blanket and grabbed a pillow, putting it in his lap while straightening it out. He traced the creases in the pillowcase with a finger, looking more through it than at it. He didn't feel like... well, worrying. He knew it would come later, but for now he'd enjoy the feeling of not having to think about all of that.

█ ▌█ ██ ♥ ▌Would you believe me if I said I am tired of this?
XXXWell here we go now, one more time...

[MearaT]

█ ▌█ ██ ♥ ▌"Time is a D R U G. Too much of it K I L L S you." ▌ ♥ ██ █ ▌█

Chris was dangling by his knees from the rafters. It had absolutely nothing to do with vampire legend, or the idea that they could turn into bats and such. It just so happened that this was the only place he could read without Sky bothering the ever-living holy hell out of him. The kid didn't mean to be annoying, but really, he had the attention span of a squirrel. An ADD squirrel. An ADD squirrel determined to poke out a nut from every living, breathing thing that walked into its little squirrel radar. It was kind of like trying to concentrate while being assailed by a German bomber.

He poked at one of the gauges in his ear, brushing some of his hair away. There was a plus to not having hot blood in your body: Minimal head rush. He could hang like this for days. Weeks. Well, hang like this until he got thirsty, but even that would only take about a half hour to take care of. Of course, then he'd have to wait a little longer for the blood to settle. That was a downside. You could get marginally dizzy when you had a few quarts of some animal's O-negative rushing through your body like an old man on tequila. Ah, tequila. Not that he could really drink much anymore, but he had discovered certain blood types held the same effect.

He looked up from his book (or down from his book... what were directions, when you were hanging the wrong way around?) before sighing. He pursed his lips and listened. Something was off today. He'd been able to hear Sky running like crazy through the halls again-- if he broke another vase, they were going to have to have a talk,-- but now... it was eerily silent. This was almost as worrying as the running. If Sky wasn't making noise, he'd either gotten into a place he wasn't supposed to or fell in something.

Ugh. He didn't even want to think of the last time Sky'd been stuck somewhere. The smell had been around the house for weeks.

Tucking his body in gracefully, he exhaled and swung his body forward, detaching himself from the beam and gracefully somersaulting to the ground. He landed in a catlike way, straightening up before putting the book down on a nearby small table. His boots clicked softly as he made his way through the halls, looking left and right and pressing his lips into a thin line. Where had everyone gone off to? No one told him anything anymore. Sure, they could take care of themselves, but what was he supposed to do if they got into trouble? Kick back and shrug?

I swear, no one but me even bothers to think these days. Taking a few long strides, he slowly broke into a lazy run, zig-zagging through the halls. He called out lazily as he passed by several rooms.

"Alex! Help me find shortstop, before he falls in a hole!" He strode gracefully out the door, following a faint smell. Ah, so Sky had gone outside. That just increased his chances of falling into something disgusting, like a pit of mud. Wouldn't that be the perfect ending to a perfect day?

And then...

He stopped short. No. It wasn't possible... was it? He sniffed, and then groaned as an ebbing want tugged at his gut. People? There were breathing people nearby? And... Sky was missing...

Oh, for the sake of everything holy, if they had to cover up another murder he was going to hurt someone.

Following his nose, he managed to break into what seemed to be... a group of girls. Three human girls. He glanced them over quickly... They all seemed to be alive. He gave Sky a look.

"There you are," he said, smiling dangerously. You are in so much trouble when we get home. "I've been looking everywhere. Excuse us, ladies. Can we help you?" He had to find out why they were here, and get them on their way. Soon.






{OoC:Post style will change! <3}

[MearaT]

█ ▌█ ██ ♥ ▌ Life is too short so love the one you got {♥} Cause you might get run over or you might get shot ▌♥ ██ █ ▌█

Mornings were created just to screw with Laurie's head.

She kicked the alarm clock off of her nightstand. It wasn't on purpose... she had a bad habit of moving while she slept, and she had managed to migrate almost a full 180 degrees, the blankets either tangled around her ankles or gone entirely. So when the screeching, irritating noise jerked her awake, she ended up sending the small, rather defenseless clock all the way across the room and into her laundry hamper. If it wasn't six in the morning and annoying, she would have felt proud of the shot. But since it was, she just groaned and felt irritated that the towels didn't muffle the sound any.

"If you could turn off, that'd be great," she groaned into the covers, speaking rather ridiculously to the sound coming from the basket. She flopped onto her back and grumbled, rubbing her palms on her eyes and then pushing her dark hair out of her face. She blew strands of turquoise out of her mouth. "Please? Mercy? No? Fine. Be that way. Ow."

Her head hurt. Her head hurt a lot. Of course, that was kind of her own fault for sneaking out until four in the morning, but that didn't mean she couldn't complain about it. She groaned and rolled over. Screw the alarm. It was just going to have to keep going, because she was not getting up for anything.

"LAUREN!"

Especially not that.

"Lauren Diana Parks, get out of bed this SECOND."

."Shut up, witch," Laurie groaned, grabbing her pillow with her feet and putting it on her face.

The voice seemed to get shriller. She half expected the door to shatter because of it, like some glass at the opera. "What? What did you say? Argentina, did you hear what your daughter just said to me? Argentina!"

Ah, Aunt Lily. The biggest freeloader on the planet who acted like she owned the place and, coincidentally, Laurie's life. Everything was this or that or the other with her. Laurie pulled her black sheets over her head, though the room was still dark, her thick curtains still drawn. It was pretty average, if a total mess. A bed, a nightstand covered in papers and other crap. Clothes on the floor. White walls. She wrote on them on occasion, just to piss people off. It was funny how that still worked after all of these years.

Agh, her head.

She didn't get up until an hour later. Lily had screamed, tattled, even shoved her way in the door and tried to pull her off her bed. That didn't end well. They probably wouldn't be speaking for a while, thank everything holy. Laurie yawned and rolled onto the floor. Well, a shower would be nice. She ran a hand through her hair, wrinkling her nose.

She wasn't mean, really. Okay... maybe a little bit. But really, she was just a tired girl who didn't give a s**t anymore.

She showered quickly and then blew her hair dry, spending a while making her hair look like she'd just rolled out of bed. She braided her turquoise streaks and fluffed the pink ones. Then she flicked off her lights and watched plaster fall from the ceiling. Wow. They really did live in the most piece of crap apartment in the history of piece-of-crap apartments. It snowed paint every time she closed a door.

Putting on a baggy shirt and jeans, she slid down the hall. Lily was sitting on the couch, poking at the stuffing and turning her nose up pointedly. Laurie waved with three fingers, and then walked out the door and flipped her the bird.

Ah, that felt good.

Mom's car wasn't in the parking spot, so she wasn't home. Lily must not have noticed, which was sadly amusing. Still... That was a little worrying. Laurie started to walk to school, but couldn't help but wonder exactly where and what her mother was doing.

And, of course, was among some of the last there. Well, that was no surprise. Laurie wasn't exactly uber punctual. She was already considered a delinquent, so why not act like one all the way? She got more sleep out of it. Convenient? Yes. Convenience was nice.

{Ooc:HORRIBLE first post! I promise when I get my footing, her personality will be more obvious and less pathetically generic.}

XXX XXX XXX

[MearaT]

╔═

█ ▌█ ██ ♥ ▌Life is too short so love the one you got X{♥}X 'Cause you might get runover or you might get shot ▌ ♥██ █ ▌█

═╝

╔═♥Tony was wondering how in the world the rest of the planet put up with this s**t.

He took a long drag on his cigarette and sighed, pulling it out between his fingers and blowing a perfect 'o' into the next man's face. The guy managed to only twitch. You had to give him points for self-control, in a place like this. Bars weren't exactly notorious for being the epitome of safety. Especially not this one. In fact, a guy was in the middle of beating up another guy at this very moment, about two inches to his right. He slid his glass out of the way so it wouldn't be knocked over.

"I told you." Tony's voice was bland, passive. He inspected the end of his cigarrette thoughtfully. "You've got the wrong man. Now, unless you're going to be useful and, I don't know, buy me a drink or something, I'd appreciate it if you gave me room to breathe my own fumes." He waved the smoke in the air pointedly, not even bothering to make eye contact.The man scrunched up his nose in confusion.

"No... no, I'm sure it's you. They told me to come here. You have to be him. Silvertongue." He was getting more confident, now, sure of himself, his face marginally less shiny and his suit a little less rumpled. Tony rolled his eyes.One of those types, tossing around a name like candy. "It's about a thing. A job. Twenty grand, no questions." he beamed.

Tony slowly put his cigarette out. If the guy was smart, he would have known that you don't just sit there and grin mischeviously when Antonio Stone put his cig out. When the cigarrette went out, s**t was going down.

Morons.

"Let me... give you a little advice." Tony sat up, taking his boots off the counter. He wasn't a tall man, but he had the sort of lazy confidence that scared the life out of anyone sensible. Too bad sense was in short supply, these days. "You see, I'm just a construction worker stopping for a beer on the way home from work. But, you see, I could also have been some sort of vigilante, in which case I could have just totally nailed your a** to the wall. And if I was Silvertongue, let me tell you something..." He leaned forward, cocking an eyebrow. The suit leaned back. Maybe he was getting smarter. "You cold not, on your life, get anything trafficked out your front door for twenty grand. It seems to me you, friend, are missing a pair of balls and a couple of zeros. Now, when you've got, say, two hundred thousand or so, let me just let you know: See that?" He pointed to the door with a gloved hand, where fading sunlight was peeking through. The man looked. Tony smiled softly, the corner of his mouth twitching under his beard.

"Old man Silver doesn't exist in the day," he said, tilting his head. "But when that sun goes down, all sorts of things crawl out of the shadows. You get what I mean?"

The man nodded. He really did have a sweaty face. Tony sighed and turned back around.

"Nightfall. Two hundred grand. Alley back behind the bar. If you show up, maybe there'll be some talking. Now, if you've got a pack of smokes on you, I'll take one as payment for the last twenty minutes of my life I'm never going to get back." Without waiting for an answer, he reached over and pulled one out of the man's suit pocket, patting it gently. "Do everyone a favor before you get beaten up, hmm?"

The man, flushed and yet somehow pale, tripped over himself on the way out. Tony stood up and sighed, pushing his glass away and turning towards the door.

It had only really been there for looks, anyway. Tony's work may be done, but Silvertongue had a pre-arranged appointment with a sticky-fingered customer and, from what he understood as of yesterday, a really, really big and sparkly rock.

Tony turned the corner, ducked into his apartment, and took a shower.

A day's work made a lot of dirt and grime, and from what he'd learned, dirt and grime let to mistakes such as, oh, alarms getting tripped. Sweat falling on a pressure tile. All sorts of nasty. He would have been so much happier if he would just track down someone selling what the guy wanted, but no such luck. It was theivery tonight, and that was just going to have to be okay. Even if it was inconvenient. He spent the rest of the sunset scrubbing off excess skin, getting the dirt from under his nails, and pretty much removing anything that could flake off and be swept up in time to postitively match him with any sort of DNA record.

Although, to be honest, to be safe he probably should shave his beard. But that wasn't going to happen. Don't even ask. Unless, of course, you didn't mind horrible things happening to you.

When he slipped out, the sun was already down, and he shivered, wiping his hands on the towel around his waist. When was the landlord going to fix the damn heating? It was like living in an icebox. He shuffled over to his tiny dresser, digging into it and eventually pulling a sweatshirt and jeans on. Then he dug even further, and his fingers wrapped around wire.

He gently lifted out a fragile silver mask.

He rolled it over in his hands. Ugh, he just wanted to go to bed. Get some sleep for work tomorrow. But it hardly was his choice any more. It was time to put his 'game face' on, and hope it could go another night without stabbing him in the eye.

He slowly slid the mask over his eyes, pulling on a jacket. He went to the door, pausing to grab a heavy black crowbar off the floor and slide it into a little loop on his back. All of the sudden, any lingering doubts went away. It was like a giant, twenty-pound security blanket.

If things went well, he thought as he slipped out into the street, he might only have to concuss two people this time.

If things went well.

Things never did go well, did they? ♥═╝

{OoC:ULTIMATE FAIL.}