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Post by HUNTER DOUGLAS ULRICH on Nov 25, 2012 13:07:16 GMT -5
Hunter lived in the part of Burbank California in everything but technical location. Graffiti was a fact of life, and he'd been seeing it for his whole life. He didn't even notice it, usually. The first time he really took note of a piece of graffiti was near the beginning of fifth grade. Someone had doodled on one of the library study carrels. Amidst the carved in initials, swear words, and phone numbers, it said, "Kid Row Was Here," in thick black marker. Underneath it was a doodle of a cartoon face peering over a fence. Hunter had no idea who Kid Row was, but the image was burned in his head.
The next time he noticed graffiti was when it was scrawled elaborately over his desk in English class. It was a name drawn in slanted block letters, each of which had an arrow drawn into it. It was shadowed and looked almost three-dimensional, with painstaking texture in each letter. He blinked, looking at it again; the first time he'd only been admiring the artistry, but this time he read it. ‘ROYCE.’ Hunter wondered how it had really gotten there. It was too intricate to have been doodled quickly, and while teachers were often distracted trying to prevent gang fights from breaking out in the hallways, so someone drawing on a desk could easily be overlooked, but he thought it was too involved to have been done in a single period. But he'd had the same desk the previous day, and it hadn't been there. He had shrugged it off, figured he was just over-analyzing it, and went back to the book he'd been trying to read below the desk.
ROYCE had became a well known name at school in late September of Hunter's sixth grade year. It appeared painted in bright pink and green on the front of the school one morning, though it was removed the next weekend. It reappeared, this time in blue and yellow, on the school's cement basketball court. After that, it was pink and yellow on another wall. It started showing up on bathroom stalls, drawn in sharpies or paint markers. Each new tag was more intricate than the last. The school erased the graffiti on the outside, and didn't care too much about what happened on the inside. They handed out fliers about how defacing the school could result in expulsion, but no one got expelled.
Hunter Ulrich wasn't a particularly bad kid. He was never in any gang, though he knew plenty of people back in the states who had succumbed to it. Maybe if he had stayed there he would have got caught up in the same kind of trouble his old friends did. His old buddy Danny Hatch was in a gang, if it could be called that; it had started off as a bunch of kids who hung out together and played basketball. They called themselves the Bloody Palms, because new members cut their palm to become blood-siblings with an older member. Now he sold drugs and carried weapons, and their colors and symbol were banned from their school. Danny was one of their original members, and kind of in charge.
The Bloody Palms didn't like ROYCE, Hunter realized when he saw the retaliation on the street walls. Most of the graffiti in the neighborhood was done by the Bloody Palms. The Bloody Palms didn't mind ROYCE at first. No one minded defacing the school, and Hunter secretly loved ROYCE's tags. They were colorful and intricate, clearly pieces of art. And he never covered over the gang tags; whoever ROYCE was, he wasn't that dumb. It was only when he started expanding off of the school grounds that the Bloody Palms got annoyed. Not that he covered their tags there, either, but he was clearly operating in their territory, which was disrespectful, and he definitely was taking the attention away from them. Hunter moved away before he could see whatever happened to ROYCE.
That was what he hated about the whole gang life interfering with tagging. The fights. Hunter just wanted to learn whatever he could about the underground lifestyle, as an independent. He hadn’t reached the level of bombing yet, nor did he ever think he’d be that obsessed with it. He still needed to find a tag he really loved. Hunter tried his best to get the mask over the massive amount of blonde hair he had and went to work. The clicking of his can could barely be heard over his music as he shook up the aerosol. Steadying his hand, the paint flowed out of the top and onto the brick. The short bursts of paint, followed by the occasional reshaking of the can felt invigorating for the Thunder. He stepped back from his work, smiling behind the white mask. This new tag looked pretty sweet, enough so that he took out his iPhone and snagged a picture of it. He’d have to look at it later and see how much he liked it after some time went by. He cast a looked over his shoulder to see how his friends were getting along.
NOTES:SNIPER TAG
TAG: Kennedy and Caleb
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Post by KENNEDY LYNN BEAUFORT on Nov 25, 2012 14:48:13 GMT -5
make the world move
let me hear that future sound
Kennedy didn't really see herself as pushing herself into the 'bro time'. In fact, she hadn't really known what exactly she was getting herself into. However, she was entering the eleventh grade and hadn't really done anything interesting with her life. Sure, she'd gotten away with her fair share of pranks, and gotten caught as well, but she hadn't done anything note-worthy. Not like her sister had. So, when she heard the two seniors conversing over their escapade, she had asked Hunter if she could come along. Her parents would be happy that she was getting out for the night and not holed up in her room; blasting music and keeping to herself.
When she had confronted Rebecca on her plans her sister had given her "appropriate" dress. She had a basic tee-shirt underneath a somewhat tight, black hoodie. Some tighter sweatpants, you honestly can't expect to turn their heads in just a normal pair of pants, sweetheart, and her own tennis shoes. Kennedy had also straightened her hair and pulled it back into a pony-tail. Her sister had deemed her "perfect" but it had taken her a bit to get used to the attire. Kenny was just glad that she could move easily. Maybe her sister did have some sense after all.
She had plugged her ears with some head buds before taking off on her run, telling her parents she would be back "later". She lived a good ten minutes away from the meeting spot at a brisk jog, so she set out twelve minutes early. It would give her time to meander and whatnot, especially 'cause she figured neither of the boys would actually show up early to a set time. She wasn't quite sure what they were going to do tonight, but she figured that she should be ready for practically anything. If Caleb Cross was involved then you could bet it wasn't a hundred percent legal.
Not that she had against Caleb. It was just the truth.
She arrived at the location shortly after Caleb did, resting against a nearby structure before removing one of her ear buds so that she could hear anything around her that she might need to. It wasn't much longer afterwards that Hunter showed up, giving Caleb a high five and asking if she was there. She leaned off of her position, moving towards the duo. "What? D'you think I was going to chicken out or something?" she challenged, arching a brow towards him with a smirk on her face. Messing with Hunter was fun, he made it far too easy.
outfit | kenny will try very hard not to be a dead weight.
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Post by caleb on Nov 25, 2012 15:21:40 GMT -5
 Caleb wasn't used to being the first person to show up to anything. He was usually the last. He was the kind of guy to show up half-drunk two hours late. But his respect for Hunter meant that he'd at least try to be on time, and that meant that he was the first person to show up to this adventure tonight. This meant that he was checking his phone for the time every few seconds, and trying to figure out if he showed up to the wrong place. It didn't matter much, as long as he kept his cool. The last thing he wanted to do was make it look like he cared that he was waiting for people. He was cooler than that. He didn't care about anything, and he was becoming notorious for that attitude. Apathy was Caleb's thing, and there were very few people that could make him feel otherwise. Hunter was one of those people. They were close enough that Caleb was sure he'd do anything for his friend, though he hoped he'd never ask for much. He owed Hunter a lot. After all, without him Caleb would be on the streets right now, or worse, he could be back home. That was a horrifying thought. Caleb hated going back with his family. There was far too much conflict between the bunch to ever form some kind of loving relationship, and Caleb looked forward to the time he'd be able to move out completely and get a place up here. He loved the Hollow, and living here seemed like a good idea once he got everything settled. He'd need a job first. But that didn't matter right now. He was too focused on having fun right to seriously care about his future. He'd deal with it when he came to it. Until then, he was completely invested in his day to day life, because living in the moment was the only way he knew how to live. Caleb positioned himself under a streetlight to make himself completely visible. He was dressed in clothes that would be easy enough to move around and not alert police attention. He was good enough at not getting arrested at this point. There was a lot of practice invested in that one. He barely even noticed when Kennedy came to join him. She didn't say anything to him, and he assumed that she was here for something else. After all, she didn't seem like the kind of girl who would be interested in running with his group. If what he'd heard was right, she was more invested in books than anything else. And anyone who had time to read definitely wasn't living as destructively as he was. Even now, Caleb was finishing a bottle of whiskey under this streetlight. She didn't strike him as the type who would partake in that kind of blatant decadence. When Hunter arrived, Caleb returned his highfive. "Good of you to make it, bro," he greeted the boy. As his friend explained that the girl was, in fact, partaking in their adventure, he cocked his head to the side and tried to figure out what Hunter's motive was for this one. After a second he smirked and leaned in toward Hunter. "What man? Tryna get your dick wet?" he asked in a whisper, not loud enough for the girl to hear. Caleb would have been glad to talk his bro up if it meant getting him laid. All Hunter had to do was say the word, and Caleb would snap into wingman mode. This was definitely going to put an interesting spin on the evening.
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Post by HUNTER DOUGLAS ULRICH on Nov 25, 2012 16:23:19 GMT -5
Most people only saw one side to Caleb when they looked at the teen. True, he filled the role of bad boy pretty well, but he was fun and when it really boiled down to it, Hunter had faith in his best friend. He helped to remind Hunter not to sweat the small stuff and was always willing to have fun. Even if it was more fun than Hunter had bargained for sometimes. Sure they didn’t sit down and debate about important global issues, but they were seventeen. Who honestly gives a fuck about that when you’re in the prime of your youth? ”You get here before me once and you already think you’re the God damn king of punctuality.” He observed his buddy as the wheels turned in the fire student’s mind. Hunter’s eyes took note of the whiskey bottle. Leave it Caleb to get things going already. Hunter might cut lose a bit tonight as well, but not enough to lose track of what was going on. He didn’t need the cops on their tales with three completely drunk high schoolers.
When Caleb leaned in towards Hunter he was under the impression he had some urgent news. Instead, in typical Caleb fashion, he made a humorous but crude jab at Hunter and Kennedy. Hunter gave his friend a small shove ”Screw you Cale!” loud enough for the eleventh year to hear. Caleb was a wild man, while Hunter wanted a real relationship. Now all he had to do was man up one day. The blonde was not interested in Kennedy that way, at all. If he was, the boy would be a shuttering, bumbling, blushing mess. Instead, Kennedy was just a friend. A friend who sometimes got on his nerve, only for him to brush it off the next day as if nothing happened. ”You don’t even know what we’re doing yet Kennedy. Hard to chicken out of something you don’t know the consequences of.” Kennedy’s outfit seemed suitable enough for what they were going to do, even though she was still a bit out of the loop.
Hunter tightened up the grip on his board and swung his backpack off one of his shoulders. Putting his skateboard back in its straps, he slowly opened one of the zippers. Inside one of the larger pouches was an assortment of spray paint cans. A few blues, greens, a purple, yellow, red and finally a black. All of the bright colors looked fairly new, while his black spray can looked well worn. ”Took a quick trip to the hardware store to stock up, but go easy on the black,” he directed this comment towards Caleb since he knew what was on the menu for them tonight. Zipping up the back, he swung the strap back on. ”Are you still down for this?” Caleb and Hunter were going to tag this new piece of property Caleb had been telling Hunter about all week. Satisfied to hear that it was a small rundown abandoned factory in the downtown area, Hunter finally gave in. When exploring a new place for tagging, he made sure that as long as he wasn’t ruining someone’s home or business, he saw it as fair game. Now the question stood if Kennedy was going to bail, or even worse, rat them out.
NOTES: The start of the unGolden Trop
TAG: Kennedy and Caleb
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Post by KENNEDY LYNN BEAUFORT on Nov 25, 2012 19:27:21 GMT -5
make the world move
let me hear that future sound
The brunette wasn't one to be pitching a fit over being left out of stuff, but as Caleb leaned forward and whispered something to Hunter, which caused a rather adverse reaction, it spiked her curiosity. However, Hunter easily bantered away her challenge, saying that she didn't know what she would have been chickening out of if she had. This was a good point and she had to remind herself that she should expect this sort of thing from an older, fellow Thunder.
As it were, Kennedy wasn't really one to graciously give out compliments, no matter who it was that was to receive them.
She watched as Hunter dropped his backpack to the ground, opening it up and revealing spray paint. Kennedy had never tagged anything before, that was obvious, but she had worked with spray paints before. Her artistic side was absolutely thrilled at the opportunity. She knew many forms of graffati and had been working on developing a style in her sketch book. It was something that she had been intrigued to do, especially if she could ever get a permit for it on certain lands. That was something she had aspired to do. However, the legal side of her screamed that this would be terribly illegal if they got caught.
If.
Her inner demons won out, they usually did in her case, and she gave a slow smile. She wasn't going to chicken out now, she really didn't feel like she could if she wanted too, and she gave a nonchalant shrug. "You think I'd bail? My parents don't even expect me home tonight and I've got nothing better to do," she said easily, though it was sort of a lie. She could think of a lot of things better to do than breaking the law. But she wouldn't let Hunter or Caleb get that satisfaction.
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Post by caleb on Nov 25, 2012 19:56:20 GMT -5
As Hunter pushed him away, Caleb gave a toothy smile. "Fair game then?" he asked, implying that he was going to focus his attention on Kennedy this evening. Maybe he was wrong about her. Maybe she really was the kind of girl he wanted to have around. Or even better, if this whole thing was a mistake, and he never saw her again, he'd be able to catch her and release her, never having to see her again. That was pretty appealing. Not to mention, it'd just fuck with his friend if Caleb started hitting on her right in front of him as they tagged some buildings. At least he thought it would. He wasn't entirely sure, but it was worth a shot. He just hoped that Hunter really didn't like this girl. Because the last thing he wanted to do was steal someone out from under him. Hunter didn't seem to get much action, and that was a shame. He was a pretty dude, and Caleb threw him as many girls as he could manage, but none seemed to go back to Hunter's extravagant home, and that was a waste in Caleb's opinion.
But Caleb didn't judge Hunter's lifestyle choices, and Hunter didn't judge Caleb's. That was how their friendship worked. Instead, they managed to find the things that they had in common. Things like parties and tagging. And that was pretty awesome. Caleb wasn't usually the one to come up with tagging ideas, or even the one to want to go tagging at all, but he was trying to broaden his horizons, and this seemed like the perfect place to do so. It was going to be a fun night, one way or another. Caleb took another swig of his whiskey. Hunter was starting to lecture about the colors he managed to pick up, and all Caleb could do was nod along to show that he was paying attention. "Alright Sniper. No black for me. I got this." Caleb called his friend by his tag name. Caleb didn't need black, because he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He was going to use only fiery colors. Seeing as he was probably the only fire student who tagged at this point, it'd be a signature all to itself. He was proud fire student, even if he seemed to surround himself with all thunder students. Fire was his home, and he couldn't think of a power he'd rather have.
"That mean you're sleeping with us tonight, then?" Caleb asked the girl. Kennedy wasn't going home tonight, and that just increased his likelihood of trying to nail her. She didn't have an excuse to stay away, and Caleb was confident enough in his own charm and beauty that he could definitely seduce a girl trying to be bad with nowhere else to go. That was like shooting fish in a barrel. Caleb was manipulative and quick on his feet when it came down to it. The only reason he didn't do well in school was because he took class time to sleep off his hangovers. He saved his best thinking for the night. And a night like this meant that he was bound to get the girl. Supposing Hunter was okay with it, of course. If he wasn't, Caleb would just focus on making his mark on some buildings. Because that would still be a hell of a time.
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Post by HUNTER DOUGLAS ULRICH on Nov 25, 2012 21:00:22 GMT -5
Fair game? What was he talking about? ”What?” he asked. He simply shrugged Caleb’s question off with little concern. ”Yeah sure, whatever man.” In all honesty Hunter had little idea what Caleb’s plans were with Kennedy. Not his problem though. They were both big boys and Kennedy could make her own decision. Speaking of Kennedy, ”Just don’t freak out the first time you hear some hobo stumbling around or see some red and blue flashing lights in the distance.” He had a little history with running from the cops, a few times getting caught by the boys in blue. He could talk his way out of most things, but one time his father caught wind of his run in and swept it under the carpet. Who said money can’t buy silence? Hunter didn’t want to make that a routine occurrence though. The Thunder knew Caleb could more than handle himself in front of the cops, and his faith in him was solid.
Hunter smirked a bit upon hearing his little nickname. Sniper was his calling card, and usually the main thing he like to graffiti around this town. It had come to him thinking of ways to draw a connection to his actual real name of Hunter. Various lists of different back water hunting terms, animals, and then weapons brought him to Sniper. Something about it clicked for him and he thought it was cool. His work was neat and precise, so the name worked on all levels for him. The styles of his tags varied a bit since Hunter wasn’t the best at thinking of good color schemes, but the typeface was locked into place for him. He was heavy handed on the black spray paint himself since he liked to put a liner on a lot of elements in his tag work. The boy was drawn a lot more to tagger names and words as opposed to chunky blocks of colors or actually images. He was a type fact and design man and that was as far as his ‘painting’ abilities went.
”Wait, you’re crashing at my place tonight?” Now this was news for the blonde. Not like his house couldn’t handle another guest. House was an understatement. The Ulrich estate was grossly way too lavish for the humble street boy. The Ulrich estate had one room that was larger than his birth mother’s whole apartment. Back in Cali he had shared a small closet of a room with two of his three stepsiblings and now he had a whole hallway of rooms just for him. Maybe it was a way to make up for his father's absence in Hunter’s life, but he had an expansive bedroom, his own little soundproof room for his drum kit with a recording system and mixing board and whatever else his heart desired. Money was no object for the Ulrich’s. ”I mean it’s fine with me. Just don’t let my grandmother see you. She’s already over the moon with Caleb here. Nasty bitch.” His grandmother reminded him of the mom from Arrested Development, complete with an IV full of booze hooked up to her veins and venom aimed towards Hunter. ”So, we’re all here, lead the way Caleb. I’m dying to see this place.”
NOTES:
TAG: Kennedy and Caleb
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Post by KENNEDY LYNN BEAUFORT on Nov 25, 2012 21:56:01 GMT -5
make the world move
let me hear that future sound
Kennedy didn't realize the full extent of what she was getting into. While Hunter believed she may now, being under all the details, she was completely unaware of the other things that were clicking into place in the minds of the two boys, or lack thereof. There was a reason that Kennedy was the good daughter. She wasn't exactly street smart, though she could pull her own weight when she needed too. What she knew came from books, research, observation... The only thing she could really manage was her ability to run and remain nondescript. Which should help her tonight, should she need it.
However, it would not be possible to remain unknown to the two boys she was with. Especially to the Fire boy, who was now referring to her as "fair game". She had never really dealt with anybody being attracted towards her, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to fall a victim towards Caleb. He was bad news and she wasn't going to let herself become another tally on his headboard. Honest, she had nothing really against Caleb, just what she had heard about him around the town. Which kind of always made her wonder how Hunter and him really got along all the time, but she would never ask. Who was she to question friendship?
When Hunter turned his attention towards Kennedy, saying that she should try not to freak out when she heard a hobo or saw flashing lights, she rolled her eyes. "Hunt, you act as if I'm an idiot," she quipped, crossing her arms across her chest. "It's not like I've never been around town once it's gotten dark," she finished, as if this explained her reason why she would not freak. That, however, was not it. She was just stubborn enough that she wouldn't run or panic until the people around her did. She wasn't going to be the one to "ruin the fun" this evening.
When Caleb made a quick remark in response to her saying she didn't have any place to be tonight, she was going to make a smart retort. However, Hunter spoke before she could. Should she had been on some sort of internet chat room, her response to Hunter would have been simple: /facedesk. They were not, unfortunately, in an online situation though, and there were no desks for Kennedy to do such an action. Instead she pursed her lips, remaining quiet and playing with the ear-bud that wasn't in her ear. She glanced at Caleb, hoping he wouldn't act on his friend's blatant disregard to anchor-sized hints immediately. She might as well get to know him first, right?
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Post by caleb on Nov 25, 2012 22:50:32 GMT -5
Caleb was more than satisfied seeing his friend shrug off the question. Even if he didn't understand, something told him that his friend was giving consent, and that's all he needed. He was going to enjoy this. But he wouldn't lay everything on as thick as he did when attending parties. After all, he had the whole night to focus on her, and she wasn't drunk. He could probably change that last one, but offering the girl a drink after almost blatantly declaring that he was going to try to get her in bed was a bad move. Caleb would have to wait on that one. As Kennedy declared that this wasn't the first time she'd been in town after dark, he couldn't help but let out a small laugh. He wished he was better at stifling laughter when he was buzzed. Unfortunately, he couldn't. "Something tells me you've never done anything illegal though," he retorted quickly. That probably wasn't his a-game, but he could definitely recover from put-downs if he dried hard enough. He'd work on it. Caleb absolutely loved the fact that Hunter was offering to give the girl a room for the night. And he knew exactly where she'd be staying if she decided to take him up on the offer. She'd be in his bed for sure. He grinned at Hunter's warning about his grandmother. Caleb knew the woman hated having him there. Hell, she made it painfully obvious. But he managed to not care at all. He didn't have time for old people, and didn't give a damn if they wanted him around. He was much more concerned with keeping people his own age entertained. "Oh please, Nana loves me!" he declared with a bright grin. The fact that he referred to the woman as Nana wasn't winning him any points either, but he refused to call the old bat anything else. Toying with her was so much fun. And now it was time for Caleb to do the leading. He took another swig of his whiskey and started toward the building that he'd set his sights on. He actually had to do research on this one. Because of Hunter's moral code, Caleb had to make sure that the building wasn't going to ruin anyone's life. And Caleb guessed that he admired that about his friend. Caleb wasn't one for thinking about consequences until he heard sirens, and for others to do differently was always incredible for him. He continued to take a few drinks out of his whiskey bottle as he walked. Soon enough, they arrived at a large building, and Caleb faced the thunder kids with a smile, his arms outstretched. "Here we are. Isn't it marvelous?" he boasted. Now he just had to wait until he was handed some spray paint, and the fun would start.
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Post by HUNTER DOUGLAS ULRICH on Nov 26, 2012 0:18:36 GMT -5
He cast a quick look at Caleb before settling back to Kennedy and her crossed arms. Caleb voiced his exact concerns about the younger Thunder. He didn’t know much about what Kennedy did in her free time other than the occasional times he walked through the common room between classes. From the looks of it she was more into books than street life. Never too late to turn over a new leaf though right? ”Yeah, well, I’ve heard some of the questions you’ve asked others.” Hunter didn’t show any signs of humor when he said this to Kennedy, but that was just the way he delivered things. If a person stuck around then he knew they were worth keeping around. People with a soft shell were a waste of time.
Still a bit out of the loop on what was going on between Caleb and Kennedy, Hunter tightened his grip up on his backpack straps and kept in step with the two. He couldn't stop himself from laughing at his best friend's theory on his grandmother's love. ”Sure, keep telling yourself that. ’Nana’ will be first in line to come bail you out if things go sour tonight.” ’Nana’ was actually counting the days until winter break was over. Some of her drunken rambles at the dinner table were hilarious when not directed at Hunter or his friends. Her old school views were so outdated the references were lost on the Ulrich boy half the time. Caleb lead the group to a wonderful new location. The outside of the place wasn’t too sketchy, and hopefully no one was living in there when they went in. It was large enough that the boys would be able to come back for a few nights to explore all of it’s wonders. Hunter spent little time thinking about what this place use to be.
He looked for an opening, crawling in through one of the broken out windowpanes. ”Shit Caleb, you did good.” The ceilings were covered with crisscrossing pipes, all leaky and rusted out. In the dark he tried to make out what other hidden wonders this jewel had. The brick walls were destroyed, but they were at least clean of any paint. Hunter tossed his bag and skateboard on one of the ratty tables. Placing the cans on the table and three white throwaway masks, he let his friends loses on his supplies as he set up his iPad. The screen cast a bluish white light as he went through his music catalog. A little upbeat tunes could get them all in the spirit of the night. Satisfied with his choice, he grabbed a light blue spray can and a mask and claimed the wall nearest to him. Now just what would he do to warm himself up?
NOTES: INSIDE and SONG
TAG: Kennedy and Caleb
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Post by KENNEDY LYNN BEAUFORT on Nov 26, 2012 1:58:20 GMT -5
make the world move
let me hear that future sound
Kennedy had chose to ignore the quip made my Hunter, instead choosing to address Caleb. It wasn't like her to go for so long without making a smart retort towards somebody and he was asking for it. As it was, the words were out of her mouth before she considered that they could be taken as a challenge. "And something tells me that you'll never do a Beaufort," she shot back, her gaze even and blunt. Now that the words were out in the open, she wished she could take them back. She practically was egging him on now. Fantastic.
Kennedy let the boys to bicker back and forth about Nana, who apparently did not like guests in Hunter's house. It made her sort of want to go and meet the elderly lady, as she had a way with adults that typically made them like her. Then again, if she had something against Caleb and Nana knew that Kennedy hung out with him and Hunter, then it probably would not blow over well. Whatever the manner, the trio of them after headed off, all three of them seemingly at their own pace but all moving in a group. Kennedy went ahead and plugged her other headphone in, letting the music swarm around her briefly as they started off towards their location.
Kenny allowed herself brief moments to go over what situation she was currently in. She was with two boys, twelfth graders, going out on a tagging adventure. One was her friend, the other somebody she hardly knew except for hearse. Hunter had basically through her under the bus, though he didn't know it, to Caleb to freely try to get into her pants, which had blatantly made clear he expected he was going to by the end of the night. Caleb was probably drunk. She gave a glance towards the elder Fire. Scratch that, Caleb was drunk. Or on the verge of it at least.
They finally came up to a large looking building that looked mostly abandoned. Caleb gave the grand gesture and said something she couldn't quite hear because she didn't take her ear-buds out quickly enough. Hunter complimented his friend on a job well done and disappeared into the building though a broken window. Kennedy picked her way in easily, moving blithely as if she typically did things like this. The truth of the matter was that she was born with a sort of natural grace that allowed her to move and such without too much worry about tripping and embarrassing herself. She gave a smirk. "Not bad," Kennedy said easily, anticipating this would be the one and only compliment she'd be giving the Fire boy this evening.
The inside of the building was as beautiful as it was eerie. The artistic side of her wanted to take a picture or make a sketch, catching the picturesque state of the room forever. At the same time, she knew they were about to literally leave their mark on the location. Kennedy watched as Hunter placed all his stuff on the table and set up his iPod, light music filtering over the quiet room. She liked the beat of it and, as Hunter took up the light blue and a mask, she moved over and picked up a few of the colors for herself and a mask.
She the yellow, feeling a connection with the color. She may pick up some of the more darker colors later for accents but she was going to start with the brighter hue for now. Kenny found a wall a bit of a ways from the boys, close enough to be in earshot and still talk easily, but enough that she felt like she was alone. The only way she was going to release any sort of artistic vibe is if she thought she was alone, so she might as well try to create the feeling. She took of the lid and shook the can, doing a large streak against the wall as she places the mask over her mouth. Well, no turning back now.
outfit | /puts song on loop while posting.
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Post by caleb on Nov 26, 2012 15:35:11 GMT -5
Caleb had to think about this one for a moment. Was there some kind of prestigious honor to doing a Beaufort? Were the men who did in some kind of prestigious league of finery that would never be opened to the likes of scum like Caleb? It was entirely possible. After all, Beaufort seemed like a pretentious name, and if Kennedy's family was anything like her, they were probably all snobbish and prone to snubbing all of the kids like Caleb. The kids who had been arrested several times. The kids whose minds were being corroded by tons of toxins at any given moment. This was probably Kennedy's way of rebelling against her parents, by hanging out with lowlifes like Caleb and Hunter. The criminal kids that parents warn people about. But she was going about it all wrong. The best rebel girls were the ones who went all the way with the scum of the earth. At least, that was Caleb's opinion. He tended to have a higher regard for anyone with loose morals though. "Is that a challenge?" he replied with a cocky grin. If Caleb was one thing, he was confident, and he wasn't going to let the girl win this easily. He'd have her eventually. And she'd love it. Caleb let out a laugh as the thunder boy told him that Nana would bail him out. That'd be the day pigs flew. The woman would probably just give a speech on how cretins like Caleb deserved to be locked up with the key thrown away to whoever was closest to her at the time. Caleb had his own support system. His father liked to throw money at problems to make them go away, and that was aces in Caleb's book. It meant that he could get out of whatever jam he was in at any given time without even having to hear so much as a speech about his wrongdoings. It was paradise. Sure, he may have loathed his family, but he loved the things that they did for him. "I can see it now: Nana at the police station slamming down a wad of hundreds and screaming "I need my baby home. Oh, and Hunter too while you're at it,"" he joked in his best old woman voice, which admittedly wasn't very good at all. Caleb was proud of the fact that he'd managed to discover such a prime piece of wall for tagging, and he was glad that the thunders thought so to. Even more impressive was that Kennedy was giving him a compliment. Or, what should have been a compliment. Not bad wasn't exactly high praise, but it was certainly praise enough. And that was what was important to him. It meant that he could still turn things around. He could still manage to seduce her. To make her attracted to him and nail her. It wasn't just because she was cute anymore. It was because she challenged him. And Caleb Cross didn't lose without a fight. This would be one for the record books if he managed to pull it off. Still, he acted like he didn't care. The last thing he'd want would be to make it seem like she was playing into his hand. Best to keep her oblivious to his game for now. Caleb followed Hunter's path into the building and picked a dark red out of his friend's bag. He positioned himself in front of an unoccupied wall and set to work. Now if only he had any artistic talent at all.
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Post by HUNTER DOUGLAS ULRICH on Nov 26, 2012 18:14:44 GMT -5
Hunter lived in the part of Burbank California in everything but technical location. Graffiti was a fact of life, and he'd been seeing it for his whole life. He didn't even notice it, usually. The first time he really took note of a piece of graffiti was near the beginning of fifth grade. Someone had doodled on one of the library study carrels. Amidst the carved in initials, swear words, and phone numbers, it said, "Kid Row Was Here," in thick black marker. Underneath it was a doodle of a cartoon face peering over a fence. Hunter had no idea who Kid Row was, but the image was burned in his head.
The next time he noticed graffiti was when it was scrawled elaborately over his desk in English class. It was a name drawn in slanted block letters, each of which had an arrow drawn into it. It was shadowed and looked almost three-dimensional, with painstaking texture in each letter. He blinked, looking at it again; the first time he'd only been admiring the artistry, but this time he read it. ‘ROYCE.’ Hunter wondered how it had really gotten there. It was too intricate to have been doodled quickly, and while teachers were often distracted trying to prevent gang fights from breaking out in the hallways, so someone drawing on a desk could easily be overlooked, but he thought it was too involved to have been done in a single period. But he'd had the same desk the previous day, and it hadn't been there. He had shrugged it off, figured he was just over-analyzing it, and went back to the book he'd been trying to read below the desk.
ROYCE had became a well known name at school in late September of Hunter's sixth grade year. It appeared painted in bright pink and green on the front of the school one morning, though it was removed the next weekend. It reappeared, this time in blue and yellow, on the school's cement basketball court. After that, it was pink and yellow on another wall. It started showing up on bathroom stalls, drawn in sharpies or paint markers. Each new tag was more intricate than the last. The school erased the graffiti on the outside, and didn't care too much about what happened on the inside. They handed out fliers about how defacing the school could result in expulsion, but no one got expelled.
Hunter Ulrich wasn't a particularly bad kid. He was never in any gang, though he knew plenty of people back in the states who had succumbed to it. Maybe if he had stayed there he would have got caught up in the same kind of trouble his old friends did. His old buddy Danny Hatch was in a gang, if it could be called that; it had started off as a bunch of kids who hung out together and played basketball. They called themselves the Bloody Palms, because new members cut their palm to become blood-siblings with an older member. Now he sold drugs and carried weapons, and their colors and symbol were banned from their school. Danny was one of their original members, and kind of in charge.
The Bloody Palms didn't like ROYCE, Hunter realized when he saw the retaliation on the street walls. Most of the graffiti in the neighborhood was done by the Bloody Palms. The Bloody Palms didn't mind ROYCE at first. No one minded defacing the school, and Hunter secretly loved ROYCE's tags. They were colorful and intricate, clearly pieces of art. And he never covered over the gang tags; whoever ROYCE was, he wasn't that dumb. It was only when he started expanding off of the school grounds that the Bloody Palms got annoyed. Not that he covered their tags there, either, but he was clearly operating in their territory, which was disrespectful, and he definitely was taking the attention away from them. Hunter moved away before he could see whatever happened to ROYCE.
That was what he hated about the whole gang life interfering with tagging. The fights. Hunter just wanted to learn whatever he could about the underground lifestyle, as an independent. He hadn’t reached the level of bombing yet, nor did he ever think he’d be that obsessed with it. He still needed to find a tag he really loved. Hunter tried his best to get the mask over the massive amount of blonde hair he had and went to work. The clicking of his can could barely be heard over his music as he shook up the aerosol. Steadying his hand, the paint flowed out of the top and onto the brick. The short bursts of paint, followed by the occasional reshaking of the can felt invigorating for the Thunder. He stepped back from his work, smiling behind the white mask. This new tag looked pretty sweet, enough so that he took out his iPhone and snagged a picture of it. He’d have to look at it later and see how much he liked it after some time went by. He cast a looked over his shoulder to see how his friends were getting along.
NOTES:SNIPER TAG Accidentally modified my first post in this thread instead of just quoting it. Stupid Kenna...
TAG: Kennedy and Caleb
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Post by KENNEDY LYNN BEAUFORT on Nov 26, 2012 23:37:07 GMT -5
make the world move
let me hear that future sound
The Beaufort family was a fairly good family. While Kennedy had said that Caleb would never do a Beaufort, that was partially a lie. She had no doubt that her older sister would probably fall for the Fire boy's charm, especially because they were in the same Element. Whatever the matter, she knew he was going to take it as a challenge and Kennedy knew without a doubt that she would not let him get the best of her. She wouldn't lose it to somebody like him, especially at the time she was right now. No matter how smooth he thought he was, she wouldn't let him. Her competitiveness meant she wouldn't allow herself to lose.
When Kennedy started her painting, she really didn't have an idea what she was going to do. There were a lot of ideas floating through her mind as she lashed loop after loop with the yellow paint. Finally, an idea started forming in her mind as she moved across the wall, her motions fluid as her piece started taking form. She would need to high-light it with a darker color when she was done, but she would simply get the form done with before Kenny would try to outline it.
When she was satisfied with her base, she went to the table and picked up the purple, she didn't want to waste Hunter's black, and went back to her wall. She needed something to allow her to get sharp lines, though. The blasting motion of the paint wasn't doing too well for her. Glancing around at the floor, she spotted a piece of scrap wood. Perfect, she mused, picking it up and using it now to direct the lines of her paint.
Kennedy lost herself again in the music, in the moment. Tagging wasn't all that bad, she figured. Sure, it was vandalizing, but it was a beautiful art-form. It took skill to make it look like it did, sharp and elegant at the same time. She wasn't quite sure what Hunter or Caleb would say about her wall, especially because it wasn't just a quick tag. No, she could probably just spend the night making a collage of different images, all looping endlessly into one another like a jigsaw puzzle.
Maybe the reason people did illegal activities was because it was a release. She definitely would never have allowed herself to show her artsy side, especially in front of Hunter and Caleb. They would probably mock her for it. But she was doing something new and if she ended up doing something awesome, that was fine. Either way, she was out here doing something completely illegal and they couldn't diss her too much down the scale for actually being a perfectionist, delicate graffiti artist.
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Post by caleb on Nov 27, 2012 19:35:07 GMT -5
Well it looked like everyone was done talking for the time being. Both thunders were at work making really elaborate pieces of urban art, and Caleb was, well, lacking in the ability. He'd manage, sure. He'd make something worth looking at, but it surely wouldn't take as much time as the others were spending on their art. Which was fine. They had their styles and he had his. He just wished that those styles involved socialization. Because he couldn't deal with silence. He never could. It was too much for him to bear, because that's when his thoughts set in. Caleb didn't like thinking much. Not when it wasn't about strategy for drinking, drugs, or sex at least. If he didn't have anything to preoccupy himself with, he'd start tearing himself apart. God, he needed to find people other than thunders to hang out with. The silent types were no good for him. Hunter was the exception, of course. Caleb wouldn't trade him for the world.
Armed with his red spraypaint, Caleb set to work. He wasn't an artist like Hunter, and he wasn't even sure how well Kennedy would do, but he what he lacked in ability, he made up for in other ways. Or he liked to think so, at least. His letters weren't fancy, but they got the point across. Even if his point was stupid. And nothing was stupider than what he'd written on the wall. Standing in front of him were the words "for a good time call" and the phone number of a particularly awful teacher that Caleb had the misfortune of knowing. This woman tried her hardest to get Caleb held back, and this was his own personal revenge. Teachers were stupid to list their numbers, especially when there were people with memories like Caleb's out there. If he decided that he wanted to hold onto something, it'd be there for a while. The alcohol hadn't corroded his memory too much yet, thankfully.
Caleb turned around and walked over to Kennedy. He wasn't finished with his "artwork", but she had what he needed. He was going to do the same thing she did and avoid using black all together. "Yo, when you're done with the purple can I get it?" he asked her, running a hand through his hair casually. He stood next to her and looked over her creation. "Woah. That's really good," he said, obviously surprised. Was this really her first time with this? Maybe he was wrong about her. Maybe she was always hitting the streets with cans of spray paint. Maybe she just didn't sign everything, and maybe that's why she hadn't been caught yet. No one would think that sweet, innocent, bookish Kennedy Beaufort would ever go and vandalize buildings. That was the best cover he'd ever heard. And if he wasn't so reliant on his bad boy charm and attitude, he'd be tempted to try it out.
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