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 Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2011 8:37 pm
Third period English, the teacher had asked Jude to swing around after three for a little chat -- and with one small sentence had successfully ruined his day. His next class he hadn't heard a word out of the teacher's mouth, his usually precise and detailed [and color-coded!] notes gone crooked and slanted, each letter blending absently into the one next to it. Lunch had gone ashen in his mouth, which had actually served pretty well for gym class, which some sadist had scheduled immediately after.
Now, though, standing in front of his favorite teacher's desk with an armful of books and several other students lingering nearby, Jude could barely even remember the last class of the day, his stomach had been so clenched in knots and his eyes wandering so frequently to the clock -- unsure if he was willing it forward or to come to a complete halt. Which was worse, the waiting or the knowing?
Except all of it had been for nothing, and as he watched his teacher's mouth move, merely asking a few of the more promising students to consider working on [or at least submitting to] the school's literary magazine, Jude's expression had gone a different kind of tense. Pink around the edges, he just nodded stupidly and half-listened, unable to think of much except that the teacher could have phrased this a bit better, could have let him know somehow that he wasn't actually in trouble.
His eyes raked over the other students, flustered, wishing he weren't so embarrassed, and also wishing that he were angrier. When they were finally dismissed, he hugged books closer again and hesitated just a moment before heading toward the door.
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2011 9:13 pm
Quite the contrary to Jude's stress-filled day, Dana had merely furrowed her brows, narrowed her pretty eyes to tiny, hateful slits, and had spent the thirty minutes of class sulking at the request. Then, she'd promptly forgotten about it, and had doodled in the margins of her notebook instead of taking notes, threw wadded up pieces of paper at the heads of people who wouldn't stop talking, and landed herself yet another detention.
All in all, a typical day.
The thought of having her writing read by everyone who picked up the school's newspaper was, indeed, tantalizing, and the young girl was significantly cheered up at the thought. Who knew? It might be fun! But she would do it if and only if her duties as a secret, super heroine allowed it. Duty and justice always came before fame! Her eyes misted over briefly as she thought about her secret scouting at night. She hadn't been able to do much of it, not with her parents watching, but she longed for the taste of her own, special powers.
Someone fidgeting snapped her out of her dreamworld, and like a hawk focusing on a mouse, Dana honed in on Jude all but slouching out of the room. It wasn't her business, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to butt right on in anyway.
"Most people would be happy to get picked for something like this, you know." She informed him almost haughtily, thrusting her tiny nose in the air even as she tried to subtly rise up on the tips of her toes so she could meet his eyes. "Unless, of course, you think you're too good for it! Well? Do you? Hm?"
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2011 6:53 am
Jude was a sloucher, and he was also a bit -- well. Prissy. The usual sash of his uniform had been swapped out for a proper tie, and not one with silly patterns on it; gold and white, it even somehow managed to go with the godawful orange they were forced to wear. Instead of a real backpack he had what was obviously a laptop bag, battered but definitely leather, even if it was old enough to have been inherited through several sets of hands.
That gave it character. Like him. Altogether he looked a bit like a really young adult shoved into a kid's position, and it was awkward, and it was probably why people liked to poke fun.
As Danny did exactly that, the pink [which had started to fade] slowly crept back onto his face. If he'd had the balls, Jude probably would have just kept walking, made her trot to keep up. Instead he hesitated, showed weakness, and finally came to a complete halt, still hugging his books. They halfway blocked the door, and he took a stumbling step back out of the way to let someone pass outward.
"Um. No." It lilted a little, questioning, Jude obviously without a clue in the world how he was supposed to reply to that accusation. He dug for an explanation, shrugging at her helplessly. "I don't...I don't know. I don't want people to read my stuff."
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2011 10:08 am
Her hands had impatiently reached forward, first swiping over that bag of his just to see if it was really as nice as it looked (age or no age), then wrangled themselves around his tie, just to experimentally tug at it. "Oh." Was all Dana said for a moment, that single word filled with all of the concentrated disdain within Destiny City. Worst of all, she didn't say anything else for a bit, allowing the silence to awkwardly grow as if she knew it would make things even more uncomfortable.
Fortunately, that was not her plan of attack. No, Dana was thinking, dissecting the poor boy's life story just from his fancy clothing and his fancy bag and his fancy face and everything else.
"I see. You aren't used to any of this. You've been so tragically sheltered, living high up and looking down on the rest of us." She glared at him again for a minute, accusing, and his tie received another sharp tug as though to make sure he was paying attention to her.
"Well. Social interaction is important now, you know! You're used to parading around in front of people, you just have to pretend it's exactly like that!
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2011 10:15 am
It was, in fact, the tug on his tie that distressed Jude more than anything else; she pulled hard enough to knock his perfect double Windsor somewhat askew, and his instinctive reaction was to lift a hand up, cover the knot, keep it from degrading any farther. As it was, he'd probably take a moment in the bathroom before heading out, to make sure it looked alright. Assuming he got a chance.
Jude's mouth fell open to reply, and then snapped closed again, his eyes somewhat wide and baffled as he tried to sort out what the hell Danny was talking about. It meant his silence stretched out just a little longer than was comfortable, he dug for something appropriate to say.
"Um. I don't think....I mean, I've never...it's just weird when people you know read your stuff."
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 12:24 pm
Her fingers instinctively tightened on the fabric when it looked like he was going to try and shoo her away, but no, he was grasping the tie higher up, and Dana dismissed his movements after a moment. He may have been trying to ignore her, but her eyes bored holes into his own, demanding answers and explanations without having to say a single word. Of course, if he continued to stay silent, she undoubtedly would launch into a tirade sooner or later--
--and just when it was beginning to cross his mind, Jude, thankfully, spoke up.
"Know them? You don't know them." The girl scoffed, stomping a small foot for emphasis and propping her hands on her hips. "They're just kids at school. Who cares what they think? If you don't get your name out there while you're young, you'll shrivel up and die all by yourself."
And that was a fact. Trust her, she knew.
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 2:52 pm
"I don't...I'm not sure that's...fair." It was melodramatic, is what it was, and it left him hopelessly confused -- a slow, radish-red blush creeping out from his collar, finally able to straighten out his tie now that the prying fingers were gone. She was high energy; in comparison, he was low, quietly nervous, trying to figure out how to extract himself without offending her.
Jude tried one step. Small. Uncertain. One step toward the door.
"I'm...I'm sixteen, it's not like I'm twenty or something..." In other words, it wasn't like he was old, wasn't like his life was over. He yet had time to make it big, if that was really what he wanted to do. The flush inched higher. "...if I even want to do it..."
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Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2011 8:16 am
"How?" She demanded, suddenly back in his face and all but bristling. "You can't say I'm wrong, because I'm not! One day, you'll get out of this city, and--" Oh. But she'd never leave, would she? She had a job, a duty, and if she were to abandon Destiny City again, who knows how many people would die this time?
Her face fell if only for a moment, but Dana soon straightened herself up again with a fierce gleam in her eye. "Sometimes, you have to do things, even if you aren't sure you want them." She wasn't talking about the silly writing thing anymore, but that was alright. He didn't have to know that.
"You're sixteen?" She pounced on the new information, taking quick, snapping steps to cut off the boy's escape route. "Hmph!" Her age, then. She wasn't sure what she thought about that, but she supposed it would do. He didn't look sixteen!
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Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2011 9:38 am
She cut him off, and Jude immediately froze again, staring down at her and mourning the kind of quiet days he usually had, where he mumbled mostly-right replies when the teacher asked but otherwise usually managed to go unnoticed. School was for slipping by under the radar; after school was for relaxing a bit and forcing himself to chat up customers at the coffee shop, play nice, dress nice.
He was having trouble flipping the right switch, figuring out what he was supposed to say here. It took him a moment, words churning and stewing, to figure out that the wise thing to do would be to turn the conversation back around on her. "...are you going to do it, then? Submit something?"
If he was lucky, she could launch in about her own writing and spare him.
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Posted: Fri Oct 21, 2011 12:04 pm
Dana merely stared at the boy for a moment, her face scrunched up as though she suddenly smelled something unpleasant. There was a beat, as though waiting for Jude to catch onto his obviously stupid statement, but when it never came, the girl sighed dramatically. "Of course I am. Everyone should."
Of course, not everyone was going to win. Danny didn't plan on being one of the losers.
"But we aren't talking about me." For once, and don't you think she didn't know you were trying to change the subject, Jude! "What's your name?" She demanded, rising up on the tips of her toes as though to somehow become that much more intimidating.
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Posted: Fri Oct 21, 2011 7:16 pm
"Uh. Um." Damnit. At least this was an innocuous question, Jude fidgeted, hesitated just a moment, and then thrust his hand out in an entirely too-adult, awkward manner. Kids didn't really shake hands like that. Kids didn't do formal introductions. Jude, however, did.
"Um. Jude Harrow. Junior." It was stilted and awkward, god help him, but it would serve. Hopefully she'd actually take the hand, instead of just staring it blankly.
The weirdness of this would probably feed into her model theory a little too well.
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Posted: Wed Dec 07, 2011 11:31 am
"Hum," Was all Dana said for a moment, eying his hand like a poisonous snake before she snatched it and squeezed hard enough that one could very well imagine that she was trying to strangle his hand. "Dana McZeal."
Junior. So he was a model! It explained the jilted formality, and, if she squeezed his hand experimentally a few more times, the.... burns? Her face twisted up even as she stared at his hands for a moment, immediately reaching out to snatch the other one up, as well. Then, silently, she flipped them over, studying them like a mother making sure her child had washed their hands before dinner.
Jude, it seemed, had not metaphorically washed his hands.
"Hum," She said again, clicking her tongue against her teeth in an obnoxious, know-it-all sort of fashion. "Well. What are you going to write about, Jude?" His hands were promptly dropped as though they'd never been a concern at all, and her hands found her hips so she could stare up a him defiantly.
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Posted: Thu Dec 08, 2011 6:53 am
Her intense focus on her palms left Jude confused, turning over pale hands to examine them himself. A burn here and there, yes, from the espresso machine or from pulling baked goods from the oven; one absent slash from when he'd cut a bagel the stupid way. He'd been scolded rather thoroughly for that one. Flustered, he smoothed his thumb over a pale scar on the back of one knuckle, and looked up at her again.
"I'm not sure I'm going to submit." But he didn't sound certain, no -- he wasn't sure, and there was at least an idea behind his eyes. Finally understanding that the girl wasn't going to just drop this and go away, that she'd keep poking and prodding until he offered at least something in return, Jude let his shoulders slump and worked his mouth.
"I'll write something, though. I have a couple short things I could...could make longer, I guess." He paused, just a beat, fidgeting where he stood.
"...a thing about a girl who can see a few seconds into the future, maybe?" It sounded lame, he thought, when it came out of his mouth. Well. Better on paper.
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Posted: Sat Dec 10, 2011 3:44 pm
Her eyes lit up at his offering, and Dana rolled it over in her brain. "Was that really one of your original short things? Or did you just make that up on the fly?" She demanded, but she seemed satisfied for the time being. Nimbly snatching up one of his hands again, she began to tug him out into the hallway. It seemed as though his fate was not merely chained to the English classroom. Poor Jude.
"Will she be driving down the road and suddenly see that she's going to get into an accident? Will her seeing the future actually make her cause the events she sees? This sounds very complicated, you know, so you better be clear about it or everyone who isn't as smart won't get it!"
She whirled to glare at him fiercely for a moment before she spat out, "And then you'll lose."
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Posted: Mon Dec 12, 2011 12:24 pm
He tensed at the grip of hand around his own, stumbling out after the girl, his expression growing more and more baffled, lost. If he'd wanted to, Jude could perhaps have tugged his hand free and struggled out of Dana's grip, he could have danced away to freedom. Or maybe not danced. Run, more like. Unfortunately, he didn't quite have the guts to be that rude, instead letting his fingers go limp in her hand, footsteps tripping behind hers.
"I...I don't..." the sharp almost-accusation drew him back a step, hand pulled up short, lower lip drawn between his teeth. How could he even answer that?
"I have a little bit worked out, but it's nothing like that. The story's about her father dying. The other bit's just part of...of atmosphere." There, a hint of something stubborn crept in: he wouldn't be swayed by her opinions of his story. "What are you going to be writing?"
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