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 Posted: Sun Dec 25, 2005 11:49 pm
Liquid colour melted across the sky, gold into red, red to pink. The clouds, sharp edged in daylight, faded into the night, modern photography becoming impressionist art. The streets were mostly empty, the cold and the dark chasing people indoors. With the holidays over, old patterns were being returned to. No more charity, no more ringing bells.
Lithle shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, hating the way her breath hung on the air. The bird was on her shoulder for once, a perch he usually distained. But he projected an air of protective malice, and maybe that made the difference. It was ok, so long as he played the protector. She hated it.
"You could have stayed home." She hissed, teeth clenched against the cold or anger. Just clenched. Perminate anger sizzling just between the skin, and lately it seemed like the apathy was wearing thin. It worried her. If the anger came back, the real anger, would the pain be back in force as well? Not the dark nights, but the real pain. The kind she was running from. It didn't help that those few people that did see her kept giving her looks. Blame the bird for that too. Who walked around with a falcon?
There it was, just ahead. 'Lost Here'. Not exactly the cleanest atmosphere, but the coffee was good. Besides, she knew the manager from... before. So she could bring in the damned feathered thing. And she- well she needed to not be at home.
((Think MorningStar 75/76 sort of place. I'm too tired to go into depth, but you get the idea. Sorry about the scene place. Lithle didn't want to go to the park.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:47 am
Lost Here. Dimly lit inside, not because the lights were low, but because the smoke fogged the entire place. Cigarettes were lit everywhere, like status symbols of lost youth. Lost.
And too damn crowded tonight. College kids were back home for the holidays. They wanted their share of depression for the night.
Open mic night was an absolute terror. But a terror Lysis had to endure, it was the only place that would let her play. Scene kid after scene kid went up on stage, stuttering poetry with no structure. Just words like "bleeding heart", "suicide of a dream", and her favorite "my parents are unfair to me so all I can do is go to this dank place and read my shitty poems." The kids rarely sang or played instruments, that would require talent.
Lysis was sitting calmly at her own tiny table near the entrance, tuning Rosie up. It was hard to hear with all the chatter and sobbing but she made due. She placed her ear on Rosie's mohogany side.
ping
As classical guitars go, Rosie was tempermental. Passed down from generation, to generation in her family and no one could get her to sound right. That is, until Lysis came into the picture.
ping
Her eyes focused on the door swinging open, her head still on the Rosie's bottom. It was a red haired girl this time. A very disgruntled looking red haired girl. "Good luck finding a seat, Doll. Its full up tonight."
ping
ping
KREE!!!
"Holy s**t!" Lysis's head darted into the upright position so fast she could feel her brain beating against the side of her skull. "A bird."
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Posted: Tue Dec 27, 2005 2:16 pm
The place was crowded, the air thick with smoke and broken dreams. Lithle inhaled deeply, she missed the former. The later, well, she had plenty of her own. Tattered black butterflys clustered in the corners, while sheep dressed as wolves paced about. Lithle kept her stance tense, sometimes, real wolves hid among the false.
For example, Kyle behind the counter, calmly making drinks. The spikes he wore on his wrists were no false advertisment, Lithle had seen how deeply they could cut. The old days, running the streets, wild. Hungry. Had she changed so much? Had he? God she missed it. She missed everything.
The Kestrel screamed, probably annoyed at her obvious introspection. She'd learned he didn't like her mood swings, and was apt to throw a fit if he saw her slipping toward the dark. So tonight, they'd gone out. Away from the apartment and memories of her.
A voice, close by, and Lithle turned, not suprised that her 'friend' had been noticed. The girl was lovely, bright eyes and wild pink ringlets. There had been a time-- but not anymore. Why bother? Trust was an illusion.
"Yeah. More or less." Her usual growling drawl, not angry, not anything except mildly amused at how startled the girl looked.
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Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 6:39 pm
How very odd. Yet really cool!
The puzzled expressions on all of the eyeliner infested faces as the angry girl with angry bird made their way through, raised Lysis's spirits. She was a neat one. And she smirked at Lysis. This must mean she won't sick the throat slashing bird on her. Not tonight at least.
Lysis wondered if she should attempt chatting with the angry girl. Her gig was soon though, should she ask for a request? Angry girls like music. Everyone likes music.
She took Rosie's case down from the other chair at her table and kicked it out in a welcoming manner. "I'm Lysis! I'm playing guitar tonight. You and your bird are more than welcome to sit at my table if you'd like to stay and watch."
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2006 11:53 am
"Lithle. The bird doesn't have a name." Short, simple statements, not opening up chances for more conversation. But, Lithle had never been much for socializing. Even with pretty pink haired girls. How Cilere had ever-- nevermind. She was here for distraction, not to brood.
"Why not." She responded to the invitiation with a shrug, disrupting the Kestrel and sending it circling the room. He'd be back though, he always came back. Lithle knew birds weren't supposed to follow people around, but then, the Kestrel was abnormal in more ways than she felt like seriously considering.
But first, something to drink. That was what coffee shops were for, after all. Weaving through the mass of people, using her elbows when necissarily, she caught Kyle's eye and nodded.
"Lithle, you don't get out much." He scanned the room, "And no Michael."
"I needed to not be home. Just coffee, black."
"Sure. I know the feeling. Sometimes, thinking gets to be too much. The itch, right?" He took it so much easier than she did, smiling as he moved, at ease. She didn't think she'd ever been so at ease. But she'd lost more than he had. "The bird yours?"
"I wouldn't go that far. It follows me around."
"Who's the girl?" He nodded in Lysis's direction, his smile taking on a slightly more wolf like edge, "Pretty."
"She's not mine either." Picking up the coffee he pushed across the counter, Lithle made her way back to the girls table, sitting down in the free chair. The Kestrel was perched somewhere in the roof, and Lithle figured that was good enough. He'd come down when he was ready.
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