watching from the w i n d o w [ open ]

lissa
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watching from the w i n d o w [ open ] Jan 5, 2012 15:33:00 GMT -5

Post by lissa on Jan 5, 2012 15:33:00 GMT -5

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LITTLE DARLING, THE SMILES RETURNING TO THE FACES
little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
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^{Good morning, sunshine. Blech. Another frigid January morning just lying in wait, ready to pounce with icy talons and foggy breath onto unsuspecting District One dwellers. Though from her perch on the windowsill Nara could see the watery sun peeking out behind the clouds, spiderwebs of frost decorated the outside of the window. Pressing her palm against the glass, she could feel the chill from outside, while the rest of her was perfectly warm inside her family's heated house- a privilege only enjoyed by the richest families. Sitting there, legs curled up against her chest, one arm wrapped around her knees and the other still on the window, you could almost imagine her a normal girl. If you didn't know her, that is. This girl was anything but normal, but of course the entire residency of District One knew that.

Unlike most people, who thought Sunday was the 'slow' day of the week, the day where there was nothing to do, Nara loved Sundays. Well, as much as she could love anything, I suppose. The one day a week when she wasn't required to train non-stop from dusk until dawn. The one day a week when she could do whatever she liked. She didn't even really like sitting up in her room, watching those below go about their everyday lives, but it sure beat training amidst the all-brawn-no-brain tough guys, swinging axes and swords around like ragdolls, or watching the skinny little ten-year-olds attempting and failing to hit the target with less than five feet between the tip of their arrow and the bulls-eye. On the bright side, watching people and knowing their secrets in the bat of an eye did have its advantages. If anyone were to find anything out about her that she wouldn't want them to know, she would have some dirt on them that would keep their gossip-happy mouths quiet. Not that there was much time or opportunity for Nara to do anything she'd not want others knowing about.

On this particular Sunday, Navarre was simply sitting and watching. Vacant stare, as if she wasn't really paying any attention, but behind those eyes a mastermind at work, watching for the quirks and tiny little facial expressions that let her read you like a book. Even at such a distance, in the attic that was now her bedroom, she could see the way one would walk. The older peacekeepers, hunched over ever so slightly, weighed down by the pain of their work, the younger ones with their head held high as if they owned the District. Some people walked quickly, with eyes darting left and right as if they were about to be caught committing some sort of crime, others with a spring in their step to suggest they had not a care in the world.

Tired of watching from such a distance, and knowing she'd get much more out of actually being amongst others. Though of course she wasn't very happy about it, given that she practically hated everyone. Scratch that, she actually hated everyone, until someone could prove to her that they weren't as despicable as most people were. And that would be a hard task, considering you can't lie to Navarre, and nobody would bother trying to convince her anyway. Everyone steered clear of her, and for good reason. Unfortunately for them, someone didn't realize who she was in time, and seemingly in a hurry, ran right past her, their shoulder making contact with hers and flinging her to the ground. Picking herself up, she turned to who had dared run in to her. "Watch where you're going," she said coldly, her breath rising in small clouds and then dissipating into the air.}

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LITTLE DARLING, I FEEL THAT ICE IS SLOWLY MELTING
little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
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tagged; open
lyrics; here comes the sun by the beatles
listening to; vanished by crystal castles
word count; 608 give or take
credit; to brooke from caution

Last Edit: Jan 5, 2012 18:19:42 GMT -5 by lissa

✨ zozo.
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watching from the w i n d o w [ open ] Jan 7, 2012 4:06:53 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jan 7, 2012 4:06:53 GMT -5

CORRAN DEVEREAUX - D1

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describing [aa5544] - thinking [ccbbcc] - talking [9eb9c4]

--

Sundays. Corran never really cared for them. Sunday always came with the lingering dread of knowing that another week was about to begin, despite having just got through the last. Sunday meant another week of training, another week of school, another week of silly little dinner parties with her father's customers. Fake smiles and nods of approval, from both ends of the conversation - having to be fussed over and dolled up by her mother for hours on end to match the rest of her siblings, when what she really wanted to do was curl up with a good book in front of a fireplace, or wander around the streets of District One.

And that's what she was doing. Wandering. Pattering amongst the snow-covered paths, passing rows of houses and residents hurrying towards the warmth of their homes. Her breath escaped her mouth in warm puffs of cloudy air, evaporating in front of her. Many would look quizzically at Corran as she happily plodded alone in the opposite direction of her house in her fur coat and boots. She liked the cold - mainly for the fact that the streets were almost deserted of people, leaving her to her thoughts; and the way she left footprints along in the snow, marking her presence. Sometimes snow would fall and she'd wander about, letting the little flakes collect in her hair.

Of course, she wouldn't dream of telling her mother. If she had any clue that Corran could possibly be even thinking of going out in that awful cold snow and catch her death, she'd never be let outside the house again. Rolling her eyes at the thought of her mother's ridiculousness, she continued up her path; watching curiously as the last lot of people trickled through the paths back to their homes. It amused Corran how, despite all being different, they all carried themselves through the snow the same way. Trying desperately to hurry into the comforting warmth without thinking of the snow that slowed their feet down, tripping over clumps of snow. Corran smirked, observing their faces become irritated and flushed with effort.

Observing. Mother called it staring. Corran found people fascinating, how every mind was different. We can be all so alike, and yet not one of us is the same. She liked to watch how this was explained through body movement and quirks, painting out a unique, personal picture. Like now, for instance, as everyone became increasingly frustrated with the snow. Some faces crumpled, other's yelled, yet they were all so similar. Corran thought it was a pity that people found the snow a burden, whereas she thought it was a gift to the District.

Gazing at the passers-by, Corran was suddenly surprised as she accidentally bumped into a girl walking on the same side of the street as her, knocking her to the ground. Before she had time to apologise and offer a hand (manners that had been drilled into her by her mother popping up when needed), the disgruntled girl picked herself and snapped "Watch where you're going."

Before she had time to think, Corran piped up with "That was rude. You're obviously agitated." She couldn't help it, picking up mannerisms was of second nature to her. Mother would certainly be gasping in shock at this comment, but since when did Corran care what her mother thought? She didn't.

--

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Last Edit: Jan 7, 2012 4:07:36 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

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watching from the w i n d o w [ open ] Jan 13, 2012 19:04:31 GMT -5

Post by Aven on Jan 13, 2012 19:04:31 GMT -5

~~~~~~~

The snow was starting to make me frustrated. I loved snow usually, and its beautiful blanket that covers the ground. Not today. Today, it was too cold. I walked alongside the road, shivering as I pulled my jacket closer around me. Stupid snow. Stupid weather.

I wasn't sure where I was walking to. I just decided to go out for a short walk in the fresh air. Maybe go to the town to buy an orange or something. I don't know. But maybe I should've stayed in the nice, warm house. At least I wouldn't be out in this weather. I stared down at my feet as I walked down the icy road. It was cold.

I glanced up as I heard a couple of people talking. I stopped abruptly. I wasn't sure how long I'd been walking, it wasn't like I was keeping track. They seemed to be in a slight disagreement. I was unsure whether I should say hi or turn around.

For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.
-Vincent Van Gogh

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watching from the w i n d o w [ open ] Jan 16, 2012 0:54:51 GMT -5

Post by Sherlock is real. on Jan 16, 2012 0:54:51 GMT -5

Speaking//Thinking

Cold and dry, the snow was sticking to the icy pavement as Ivory marched through the light, falling blizzard.
Her boots were soaked, but not soaked through; it would have been trouble for Ivory if they were. She had been wandering the streets for a while now; she was yet to become formally acquainted with the district. The snow made every road and every building look exactly the same, adding to her uncertainty. She couldn’t remember how long she had been away from home, an hour? Two hours? It wasn’t possible for her to be sure; time didn’t seem to matter when you were lost.

She was covered in furs; from the top of her ashen head to her toes. The heat of her outfit was uncomfortable, the sweat dousing through her thick jacket. She was starting to shiver from exhaustion, or perhaps anxiousness, either way she pushed herself to hurry home. Ivory remembered the disappointed looks of her parents the last time she came back late from a morning walk, they would be worried now that it started snowing. Snow was her greatest rival.

Ivory didn’t realize it would start so early in the day. Usually on frosty mornings, like that day, the small flurries would begin at around ten A.M. or so. It was around nine, probably, she didn’t typically go so far from the house, but it was different that day. She had wanted to meet a friend at the market place, but her peer never showed up.

That generally happened to her, no doubt people wanted to be her friend, but her classmates were scared of what would happen to them if they did. She didn’t know why, though. Ivory didn’t care for others anyway; she had learned to be lonely. However, every so often she would meet someone would she really did care for; they were ordinarily just strangers she saw on the street. Such as the little boy that lived next to her who would bring Ivory the morning paper before she left for school, or the golden haired woman who worked in the tailor shoppe, she had a pretty smile. Simple people, really.

The street wasn’t looking any more familiar as she gazed at the buildings she walked pass. They were all grey and gloomy, their windows frosted over so you couldn’t see inside. Ivory remembered the buildings in the summer; they were never too noticeable with the children playing in front of them or the young and old couples riding their bikes. Life was austere in winter, hardly anyone was outside. As a result, it was impossible for Ivory to question a passerby for directions.

Turning the corner onto another plain, grey avenue, Ivory noticed a handful of people crowding the street. The sidewalks here were, more or less, bustling with people, which automatically excited Ivory. Finding her way home wouldn’t be too difficult if she had someone to show her the way.

Making her way toward the group of girls, who looked quite cross with each other, Ivory tapped the shorter, younger looking girl, lightly on the shoulder. “Would any of you girls know how to get to 145 Diamond Street? I am very lost, unfortunately.” Her tone was as polite as she could render it, a grin formed lazily on her thin lips. She hoped the girls, who really did look agitated, would see her smile, even though it was tightly covered by a fur.

Last Edit: Jan 16, 2012 0:59:57 GMT -5 by Sherlock is real.

~made by the awesome `ruth!~

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watching from the w i n d o w [ open ] Jan 17, 2012 6:31:05 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jan 17, 2012 6:31:05 GMT -5

corran devereaux
district one

Before Corran had time to here the agitated girl's response, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning around suddenly, she found herself face to face with a warmly-dressed girl, grinning at a stern-face Corran. Corran wondered if perhaps she had over-dressed, surely that many layers must cause someone to overheat, or exhausted from the amout of extra weight carried whilst trying to manage trekking through the heavy snow that coated the ground below her boot-covered feet.

"Would any of you girls know how to get to 145 Diamond Street? I am very lost, unfortunately”

[/b] she asked politely with a smile. Corran nodded, bits of blonde hair blowing astray in the slight wind, knowing that one of her sister's friends that lived down the same street. She did wonder for a moment how someone could get lost in their own District, but District One was a large place after all, and Corran had done many a trip wandering around in the snow and sun alike whilst living in the District.

"Yes. It's a bit too long to give directions to remember, but I'd be happy to show you" Corran replied, nodding in response. She then turned toward the other girl that she had accidentally walked into, wondering whether or not she was going to reply to Corran, waiting for a response.[/blockquote]
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Last Edit: Jan 17, 2012 6:45:35 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

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watching from the w i n d o w [ open ] Jan 19, 2012 0:34:33 GMT -5

Post by Aven on Jan 19, 2012 0:34:33 GMT -5

~~~~~~~

I watched, overhearing bits and parts of their conversation. I probably looked really creepy, just standing there. I was about to turn around and go home- if I could find home again - when a new girl showed up and walked to the small group. I frowned slightly and watched a few more minutes. I heard the new girl ask about an address. Apparently she was lost.

I decided it was safe, considering another girl had just walked over. I tromped over through the thick snow. "Hi," I started slowly. "I'm Tori. I kinda overheard your guys's conversation. May I join you?"

For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.
-Vincent Van Gogh