the limit does not exist // rave [blitz]

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 5, 2014 20:48:15 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 20:48:15 GMT -5

finity hampton

I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok

I push a little strand of hair behind my ear and pull my face back into my little book full of numbers. However, my mind kept getting distracted by the many noises around me: the wind as it sweeps through the trees (I wonder at what rate is that accelerating?) and the voices that fill the atmosphere around me, sound waves and sound waves disrupting my train of thought. I sigh and close the book, stand up, and then go back into the building called school - it was a bit too cold outside anyways - and sit down at an empty lunch table (I'm not really hungry). I reopen my book of Sudoku puzzles and devour it all at once, my pencil flying as it fills in each number. 4 5 6 3 9 0: I don't understand how people can speak so freely in English when numbers are much easier. However, I suddenly hear footsteps approaching at a constant velocity of probably about 4 feet per second, which seems a bit slower than average, and in about 2.341 seconds, I'm looking up to see who it is.

codeword: odair

♥

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 5, 2014 21:11:19 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 21:11:19 GMT -5

What's the point of being dragged to school if I'm supposed to be dead before I can use anything I learn from this place. It isn't like this school is even a good one either, most of the other imbeciles here suck like the food they probably cooked for about one-fourth of the recommended time. Odds are two of them are gonna die before me anyways, but still, can't they even attempt to be mature for about two seconds while I get my damn food and try to sit down? Yesterday, some idiot decided it would be funny to cut my hair with some grimy plastic knife (how he even managed to without me knowing is beyond my belief.) Today, this one guy thought of an even greater idea, because sticking gum in somebody's hair is completely a good idea. I could of tried to kicked his ass then, but I got ushered away by Saffle before I had the chance.

Of course, she ditched me too to make sure Elverum was doing fine. She treats him like her son rather her brother, because "street rats" and all that shit. I know life as a street rat isn't pleasant, considering I've been living with them for a couple years, but still, you don't have to have him under eye-watch 24/7. Her leaving meant I was alone of course, so I began walking around to the only close to empty table within a mile. Instead of asking, I just kinda sat down politely because at least she doesn't want to cut me like the strands of hair matted together by gum I was attempting to sever off.

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

Last Edit: Jan 5, 2014 21:19:45 GMT -5 by Deleted

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 5, 2014 21:39:56 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 21:39:56 GMT -5

finity hampton

I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok

A stranger sits across from me, and I immediately start fidgeting, my pencil slowly faltering. The numbers stop flying from my hands, new thoughts having invaded my head and pushed out the numbers - thoughts like, who is this stranger? Why is he sitting here? Why is there gum in his hair? He looks a bit frightening. I don't really want him here. I'd rather sit by myself with my numbers and my math theorems and make up beautiful sob stories in my head about tangent lines. However, I look up to notice that he's unsuccessfully trying to pull the gum out of his hair, and I shake my head. He's not doing it right. Of course, I've had quite a bit of experience in dealing with stupid pranks like this, so I should know. I put my puzzle book face down so I won't lose my page and reach into my backpack, pulling out my lunch. I take the plastic wrap off of my uneaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich and stick my two fingers directly into the peanut butter. Then, I get up on my knees and lean over the table. "Here," I whisper hesitantly as I put those two fingers to his hair, right where the gum is, pulling it out. "Just takes a bit of peanut butter." I wipe my fingers on a napkin before retreating to my seat and back to the numbers in my head.

codeword: odair

♥

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 5, 2014 21:59:17 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 21:59:17 GMT -5

The plastic knife that failed to succeed in the one job it was made for rattled after being tossed back onto the table, while I frustrated with my fingers to scrap the gum out manually. It didn't go so well, since the only thing I managed to accomplish was getting gum underneath my nails and irritating me further to the point of scrunching my face like I ate something as sour as the words I was throwing around in my mind towards the guy who stuck this in my hair. My attention never faltered away from the act considering the only thing to look at was my food ("food" being used lightly here) and the girl practically shaking for some odd reason. She managed to break my attention however, after getting up towards me and greasing the gum wad with peanut butter, before she slid it off of my hair. Apparently it "just takes a bit of peanut butter."

Blood flushed my face after she retook her seat, due to the embarrassment flooding my mind. I let out a tiny "Oh" that was definitely proportionate to my height, and I looked her over while wiped her hand onto a napkin that looked more appetizing than the food in front of me. "Thanks." To break the awkward eye contact, I wrapped my hand around the whatever it was on the trey in front of me and bit into it. Poisoning myself with cafeteria food was probably better off than staring silently into some girl I didn't know's face.

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 5, 2014 23:24:55 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 23:24:55 GMT -5

finity hampton

I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok

"Thanks," he says, and my face turns red. I don't really know what it is - embarrassment? Flattery? - but I quickly hide my expression in my now open puzzle book, numbers flying from my fingers as I escape the reality that surrounds me. Finity Hampton saves the day...and now back to awkward bookworm she goes. However, the numbers don't come quite as quickly as they did before, for my mind is distracted by the presence of the boy in front of me. I keep glancing up from my book at him, and then back down so he doesn't see. I can tell he particularly abhors the cafeteria food that he is eating - or at least trying to eat. I look at my own lunch, untouched, besides the peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. I push the brown bag towards him, looking up momentarily. "That looks quite... disgusting." Getting a good four words out of my own mouth is definitely an accomplishment. "You can have my lunch if you'd like. I'm not hungry." And like a turtle, I pull back into my little world of numbers, dropping eye contact. How do people have conversations like this on a daily, or even, hourly basis? The anxiety that these few words are causing me is probably enough to last me a lifetime.

codeword: odair

♥

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 6, 2014 3:03:57 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2014 3:03:57 GMT -5

While sitting through the horrendous aftertaste of one bite of whatever-it-is that I spent my money on, I made sure to look everywhere but at the girl in front of me. I was trying to avoid awkwardness, besides, about twelve people alone get thrill off messing me up, so having somebody not drive me around like a raging bull because my lungs had some overly-reproductive-happy cells or because I didn't have a set of parents would be nice. Besides, she seems, nice. Not like grandma-nice, the type of person who bakes you cookies and gives you stuff for the hell of it (not my words, somebody in my literature class said that and it stuck like gum in a guy's hair), but like, nice. Although, I guess it'd be hard to judge somebody when the best companion you have at the moment is a book of numbers and puzzles.

In the wingspan of about a minute, I caught her looking at me about twice, but then again I kinda kept looking over there too. Each time I looked over, her face was as red as her hair, which probably wasn't healthy but she didn't seem alarmed so I tried to ignore it (besides, it's not like I wasn't two seconds ago.) After me catching her catching me looking at her to see if I could catch her looking at me again, she pushed the bag in the middle of us over like it was a bomb and told me that my food did, in fact, look as disguising as it tasted.

"Nah, I'm fine. Besides, this tastes better than what my mam makes." I even added a little smile on top of that lie, mostly because my mam never made me food. Probably because she gave me up to an orphanage but, eh.

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 13, 2014 0:03:12 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 13, 2014 0:03:12 GMT -5

finity hampton

I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok

"Nah, I'm fine. Besides, this tastes better than what my mam makes," he says with a smile. A confused expression crosses my face as I try to comprehend this utterly paradoxical act of human nature. Why is he smiling if he didn't take what I just offered to him? I'm a bit offended that he didn't; did I do something wrong? Does he not like me? Is he afraid that I've poisoned my lunch or something? That seems like more of a pasttime for the chemistry students, but me - I've been a little more physics-oriented all my life, so who would think such a thing? I try to wrap my mind around these unanswerable question - why did he smile? Why didn't he accept my lunch? I try to do synthesis in my head, but it isn't working out, and the equations aren't balancing. It's so much easier to look at a math problem and apply the theorems I already know, but are there any theorems to fix this moment, to get the words out of my mouth that will get me an A+ in social skills? "Oh...okay..." I finally answer, words stumbling out of my mouth, trying to find some sense of direction. "Well then...I sure hope your dad can cook. Or you can cook. Or someone in your house can cook. Or um..." God, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. Why did I ever let the words come out of my mouth in total free fall? They're only accelerating and accelerating and - "My name's Finity," I finish, my face red with humiliation. I wish I knew the first thing about how things worked in the world around me, but I was too stuck in the one at the tip of my pencil.

codeword: odair

♥

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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jan 20, 2014 23:35:56 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2014 23:35:56 GMT -5

"Oh. Ok. Well, I hope your father can cook. Or you can cook. Or somebody in your house can cook. Or um." Her massive verbal explosion forced a more realistic smile onto my face, mostly due to the disgruntled, embarrassed look she took afterwards. "My name's Finity." After she finished, she broke eye contact and starting looking elsewhere, so I took this as a sign to reply. "Axton." I continued smiling until looking away and around for either Saffle or Elverum, but I didn't really feel up to talking to either of them. It felt nice to talk to somebody other than the both of them.

"And yes, Elverum can cook." Pointing out the little idiot made me smile a little, mainly from the irony of my not wanting to do so, but responding to Finity's verbal rampage and playing along was better than being stuck up and ignoring it. Maybe reply to it wasn't the best idea, maybe all this smiling is making her uncomfortable? I should stop, her parents probably told her never to talk to strangers, isn't that the cliche shit they say in family movies? Once I realized my constant eye contact might be terrifying her, I looked away to continue looking for Elverum or Saffle. At least having a back up would be better instead of being alone when this blows up in my face.

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

cici
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the limit does not exist // rave [blitz] Jul 21, 2014 20:03:29 GMT -5

Post by cici on Jul 21, 2014 20:03:29 GMT -5

finity hampton

Open hands are hard to hold onto anyway

Seeing as this is already the longest conversation in months that I've had with a total stranger, I am absolutely exhilarated. I feel as I have an unbalanced force of 400 Newtons pushing me to new velocities and unfamiliar territories. Newton must have known what he was talking about when he said, "Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it" because the boy is definitely the external force in this situation, and I am surely not in my uniform motion of sitting silently in the corner with my nose in a textbook.

However, I can't say I despise this accelerating feeling. It's similar to the feeling I get when I start experimenting with wires and circuits with many hazards and no full knowledge of the results. "Axton," the boy introduces himself, and I quickly pull my mind back to the situation at hand. The name seems to fit, considering how his expression seems about as heavy as an axe...except for when he smiles. "And yes, Elverum can cook." He smiles a bit, just like he did a minute ago during my embarrassing spew of words; did I do something humiliating again? Why is he smiling? You know, my mother spent so much time teaching me the extensive language of calculus and yet I'm at about a first-grade reading level when it comes to body language...and English for that matter too. I'm more than proficient when it comes to reading, speaking, and writing in English, but who knew that there could be an entirely deeper level that analyzes the gap between what people are "literally saying" and what they are "meaning to say." Math doesn't put up for shit like that. A 33 means a 33...not a 4.

Axton turns his head as if he's looking for something, and I am quickly pulled back to reality. I try to recall the last think he said: "And yes, Elverum can cook." Who is Elverum? Should I already know who that is? Did I miss something? I dig through my memory, trying to recall whether this name was mentioned earlier in the conversation, but I can't quite put a finger on it. I'm assuming Elverum is a brother...or a sister - could "Elverum" be a girl's name? - because people don't usually address their parents by their first names; at least I don't. Or maybe Axton is some rich kid with a family who has a personal chef named Elverum? The fact that he's got cafeteria food in front of him almost eliminates that answer.

"Who's Elverum?" I finally ask out of curiosity. "What are they like?" I avoid the words "he" and "she," afraid I will be incorrect. However, I notice that Axton is looking around as if searching for an escape route. Hesitantly, I open my mouth again. "Sorry if I'm not very interesting company. It's okay if you want to go sit somewhere else." I stop, but realize that I don't want to make it sound like he should go. "But if you don't want to sit somewhere else...that's okay too. I don't not like you sitting here." It's only after the statement pours out of my mouth that I realize it probably would have been easier to say "I like you sitting here." Then again, the statements don't truly say the same thing, do they? While -x = -1 yields the same answer as x = 1, the English language is an entirely different problem to solve.

Either way, this whole "socializing" thing has stolen all of my potential energy. You know, whoever came up with the ridiculous idea of stealing forty-five minutes from the 7-hour school day (10.7%) to shove a bunch of teenagers into a room full of long rectangular tables and uncooked pasta anyways? Likely the same person who came up with the Hunger Games. As much as I'd like to be one of those confident people who are never afraid to make eye contact, my own gaze falters the next time Axton looks my way, and I glance downward at the table again. Maybe it's because people always say "the eyes are the window to the soul," and I've never actually broken into someone's house through the window before. It feels a lot less intrusive to leave a knock on the door.

ooc - oops, longer than I anticipated.

codeword: odair

♥