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Post by rhapsody on Sept 25, 2011 19:45:41 GMT -5
[/i], by Eric Clapton. Jamie was having a bit of a hard time trying to play the chords, not when she hadn't heard the song in a while. The one time she played the first few bars back home, tears had welled in her father's eyes before he had wordlessly walked out of the living room. She had never played it again. But right now, she needed something, someone, anyone who comforted her. She had been excited when she found out they were moving to Canada. She wanted to get away from Australia - the blistering heat, the red desert, the memories, her father's silence. She wanted to find new friends, build a new life. But now that she had arrived, she wanted to go back home. Back home, she was one of them. She wasn't separated and distanced like she was here. It was already hard for her, being the new girl from halfway around the world; she didn't understand the slang, didn't know what was acceptable and what wasn't. And then some students who didn't even know her would give her a glare, simply because she was a fire elemental. It had been so much easier back home to just pretend she was normal - at least it was a clean slate for her, no prejudice. She blew another wayward strand of hair from her face, before giving up on trying to play the song. Her eyes searched the grounds for inspiration, before she pursed her lips and bent her head down again, her fingers sliding across the strings. The familiar chords were like gentle exercise on her fingers as she played Tears In Heaven, her lips turned down a little in the corners in a rare and never-to-be-discussed moment of emotion. Had she known someone was behind her, she would never have played the song. [/ul][/font] |
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Sept 26, 2011 14:31:45 GMT -5
 Altair was trying her best. Really, she was. She tried to focus more in class instead of filing her nails, avoided detention as best as she could so she could continue a job hunt that paid better than working at a skin joint. She was actually focusing on her future. No, not hers actually. Her sister’s. Rowena was someone with much more promise than her, always was. That sketchbook of hers was something the Fire sibling saw a lot, and it was strange how much this filled her with happiness, something that she hadn’t felt in a long while without the Vicodin. She realized that the only thing she’d ever wanted was her sister’s happiness.
Even though they were still far from such a thing. Because the ghost was still there, and when the two sisters walked next to each other, Altair swore there was enough space between them to fit Syria. It was sickening, how much her presence could still be felt. And when her gut twisted and physically hurt, she reacted the only way she knew how—anger. So much anger she had to slam shut a bathroom stall so she could scream and rant and cry. She was still Altair. Just missing her Syria and trying to get back her Rowena. She was like a math problem that needed to be finished solving.
Speaking of maths, the girl had her homework finished already, an accomplishment really. But she couldn’t feel any sort of happiness when she stormed across the lawn. Hopefully, she would be able to get over the nicotine soon, but for now she needed it as her crutch. But she wasn’t weak. It would sooner rain in hell before Altair admitted weakness to anybody. So she simply found a tree, lit up with her lighter, and from that lighter dispersed a flame around her to clear the area of anyone who might come around to even approach her, unaware that there was a girl playing guitar underneath the tree.
Noticing the redhead, Altair realized it was a Fire girl she’d seen around. She didn’t apologize or ask if she was all right—because Altair didn’t care, of course—and simply shrugged before flicking ash into the grace, spreading her influence to start a small and contained fire over the blades. Altair still didn’t care about too much, surprisingly. Not even the death of one of the girls she loved most could change that about her.
[sorry she didn't talk, but i wanted to keep it ic for her. ><]
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Post by rhapsody on Sept 27, 2011 19:11:05 GMT -5
Jamie was caught up in her own little world now. The Academy didn't exist behind her, nor the grass underneath her feet, nor anyone else who happened to be around. Her mind had been transported back to her home, with the wooden panelling smooth under her soles. Her mind's eye feasted hungrily on the memory, everything a little blurry from time. She wasn't quite sure if the pillow on the couch was that way or the other, or the mantelpiece cow ornament she bought for her mother when she was six was on the left or the right of the family picture frame.
But that didn't matter. She knew this memory, she knew exactly who was going to come down the stairs at any moment. She turned her mind's eye up to the rickety stairs, hearing the complaints of the wood as someone stepped on them, and her anticipation heightened.
She was slowly being pulled out of the memory as she felt heat coming up from her side, and she turned her face towards it, annoyed and irritated that someone or something had interrupted her daydream. To her surprise, it was a flame, barrelling a perfect circle around a point on the other side of the tree she'd been taking shelter of. Jumping out of the way with a muttered curse, she glared at the center of the circle. Hooking the guitar and swivelling it so it rested on her back, she stomped around the tree, her sneakers following the flame's path.
She knew it would be a Fire student, so there was a chance it would be someone she knew or saw around the place. Who she didn't expect to see was the blonde girl she knew was named Altair.
Jamie was a judgemental being. She knew from the very first time she saw Altair - passing by a class, where the blond had been filing her nails, paying no attention whatsoever to the teacher - that Jamie and the blond would never get along. She'd known of girls like Altair back home, girls who showed no respect to others, girls who were self-obsessed and thought they were god's gift to mankind, and Jamie had no neither time nor patience for them.
As it was now, her ire only grew when she found it had been Altair to set the flame around her, in a way Jamie saw as 'marking a territory', regardless of who was around and who could have been hurt. "The fuck is your problem?" Jamie demanded once she was in clear view of Altair.
that's okay, lovely!
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Sept 27, 2011 20:21:21 GMT -5
The beginnings of Altair’s anger was cool and collected. She took the cigarette from her mouth, blew out some smoke nonchalantly. Perhaps this girl…Jamie, right? Altair didn’t care enough to really remember it that well. Anyway, perhaps what she said would have set Altair off before. It could have been a punch to the face, or another blast of fire. But now she had the intelligence and forsight to stop herself. She needed to work today, to provide for Rowena, she couldn’t have detention for beating on some redheaded bitch interferring with that. She felt like the breadwinner now, the mother—she always had that strange sort of complex with her sisters. And it was now sister, she had to keep reminding herself, singular.
What was her problem? Well, she had a lot of them. Her sister had just overdosed on whatever meds she was taking—Altair didn’t know whether it was intentional or not, and she didn’t want to—and her life was quite a literal shithole. Shitty apartment, shitty jobs, shitty lifestyle. But in front of the world, Altair was fucking perfect. ”Right now, there’s a little cunt bitching at me,” she replied smoothly, arching an eyebrow. After a moment, she turned away and shrugged. ”If you’re so bloody pissed, just walk on by. I don’t have time to listen to you.” Altair never had time, and that’s what she told most to people when she was getting aggravated. The girl with the guitar slung on her back hadn’t even said much to her, and she had every right to be yelling at Altair—but her pride didn’t even consider that this bitch could talk to her like that.
Then she rolled her eyes when she considered something, now sure of the fact that she’d seen Jamie around the dorms. She slept there a lot to avoid the apartment, after all. The night she found out Syria had passed, Rowena had broken the showerhead. And before that, Altair threw a lamp at the wall to kill a spider. And then there was the door, and it was such an odd thing, but both of the sisters couldn’t look at it anymore. Because there was a piece of fabric covering the whole Water girl had made when they first moved in, the girl who looked like she had it all together. Thinking of her made Altair even angrier, so she flicked more ash onto the ground, and decided that maybe she should start something to take her mind off the grief. You’re not getting better. Maybe she never will. ”You’re a Fire, anyway, not like it’ll hurt you bad.” Unless Altair wanted it to. And she could make that happen if this girl pissed her off, which was not hard. At all. Even though her temper had a longer fuse now, it was still a ticking time bomb. ”But if you keep talking to me like that, I’ll make it hurt something fierce.”
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