I HATE YOUR FACE//open

[Deleted]

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shit shit shit shiiiiit. the boy holds a large, stuffed backpack in his right arm, desperately trying to zip it up with his left hand as he hears a car approach the drive way of his old house. this was a normal routine, but either the backpack had shrunk, or cal was trying to put too much into it. every few weeks he'd 'visit' his parents' house, because why wouldn't a loving son steal from his mom and dad every once in a while? they never seemed to notice that some of their food was gone. and geez, they had never been great caretakers, so this was their payment...they just didn't know it yet.

of course he needed help feeding himself. what, do you think money grows on trees? cal wishes. if so, he'd go into the gardening business. yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it.

he slips out the back door just as he hears his parents unlock the front door. successful trip, and now he can hop the fence and head back to the apartment. and he does so, hustling down the sidewalk with a happy spring in his step. he's got food for the next week or two! preeetty good.

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GS

[Deleted]

MOOD - CONSIDERATE WORDS - 357 TAG - YOU THERE, WITH THE FACE NOTES -

She needed to stop exploring and get down to business. The city was a nice place to stay, and she loved to visit the museum that had recent paintings of Burgh's art plastered onto walls. For once, she felt oddly serene in her museless wanderings among others. She just feels well when she did so. To blend into a unsuspecting crowd and get lost in it. Usually, she was crowded by people, asking her questions and asking her to battle and show her Poke'mon that she had battled with in the Elite Four. She'd just smile, put on a mask for everyone and keep walking. Autographs? Please. She wasn't supermodel, not like Elesa. Children liked to play with her thick, blonde locks that seemed to be almost inches away from the ground, carried by psychic forces. Her eyes were droopy, her body posture was tall and straight, yet, in the thick kimono, her hand folded each other, her body was tense. Cloudy, moody sea blue eyes swayed decisively over the many people. Some, dressed for work, some were dressed casually, as well.

"Hmph,"

The grumble that came from her lips was a dull grunt, ending with a slight hum. She pressed her lips together tightly, the heels she wore today couldn't be seen by others. The dress she wore was too long, so it seemed she was simply gliding over the cement. She stopped, suddenly.

She unfolded her arms wearily and blinked. There was a man, coming from a few houses and neighborhoods, large backpack shrugged casually over his shoulders. Her eyebrows raised almost in a surprised motion. Did he need help? She wasn't considering that he could handle what he was doing, but Cattleya felt--considerate today, unlike any other day when she'd just leave the person be. She let a small smirk hover on her lips before padding over, making the barest minimal of noise. He held out a hand and smiled warmly.

"Do you need help, sir? Or do you have it under control?" the blonde asked, shifted her body, and reaching upwards to move the strand of hair out her eyes so she could make eye contact.

CODED BY PURE