LIVING LIKE A DISASTER,, dakota

[NELL DOE DALE]

Nell sat back in the chair, arms crossed as she bobbed her foot up and down, the heel sliding off her foot. She felt out of place in her dress, but simply because she never really wore them—everyone else in the upscale resturaunt was dressed similarly. Well, save for the flowers dotted in her hair, as if they were growing out of her head. In a way, they did. The small blue wildflowers matched her dress, one that probably cost more than her car. She was glad that she could do this now, even weave flower crowns, since winter had fully thawed. That season had been killer, and she was finally for the first time experiencing a Canadian spring.

She’d invited Dakota to dinner that night, planinng to pay for all the food he got. There would be no resistence on his part—she wanted to spend her father’s money, and she found that food was the best way. It would make her feel guilty if she was wasteful when it came to food, but she could consume mountains in a matter of minutes. And actually, this wasn’t just all for bitterness. She loved doting on Kota. Anyone she found to be adorable, actually. It was just an instinct to do whatever she possibly could to make those around her happy. She was sure a nice meal at an expensive resturant would do the trick. Plus, since it was still early in the evening, she had other plans.

The server came over and Nell just got a soda while she waited. Nell remembered when her father let her have wine when she came over his house for an awkward dinner one night. And with her forged ID, she could have ordered some here if she actually liked it. A part of the reason she believed she’d downed two glasses that night was the hope that getting a little buzzed would make the dinner somewhat bearable. But she didn’t need to do that tonight. Even thoguh she did feel painfully out of place. She wasn’t one of those glossy socialites who’d been born into the lap of luxury. She was still just little plain Nell, whose PT Cruiser sat like a slug in a garden of sleek towncars out in the parking lot.

To entertain herself, she ran her finger along the rim of the wine glass holding the water—since apparently everything must be fancy—and enjoyed the musical humming noise it created. Which the other patrons seemed to be irritated by as they glanced over the table that only sat one. Smiling sheepishly, she cupped her hand over the glass to stop the sound, then threw back a gulp. When the server arrived with her soda, she took the straw and blew the wrapper off, and watched as it gently glided down on the table a bit away. She sighed. Staying in one place too long made her antsy, but she usually got preoccupied with food. However, she needed to wait for Kota before she began chowing down. After all, this was the night where he would experience new things, and she’d make sure that he liked it.

[dlite]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, line-height:120%;][atrb=style, width:350px; padding:20px; background:#f8f8f8; border-left: 40px solid #E0B1B1;] KEEP SPRINTING IN THIS ROUGH WORLD eleven.fifty. nell. wearing. kota has button trouble.   The auburn-haired teen stumbled across the hardwood floor of his bedroom. The creaking, rickety noises echoed beneath his feet. These floorboards should really get fixed. Or else he could fall through the second story of their house and into the kitchen (what'd be much worse was if his mom was in there cooking when it happened). These thoughts barely graced his mind as he was too busy trying to pull up his pants without knocking the socks off his toes. One leg was inside his black trousers, while the other one seemed like it had a mind of its own, and didn't want to be shoved inside. He hopped around the room on his left foot, as if that would make getting his right leg into his pants any easier. But with various clothes strewn about the room, made it hard to move about on one foot. The teenager slipped on a sweater (which probably should have been put in a box with the cold-weather stuff), and tumbled to the ground. His cheeks turned pink, even though no one was there to see. Even so, ignoring the sting in his butt cheeks, he finally managed to pull on his pants (in an awkward position, mind you). He bit his lip, the tip of his tongue just poking out from the corner of his mouth like he always did when in deep concentration, as he focused on the buttons. This was always the hardest part for him, his fingers fumbling viciously over them. His hands already shaking a bit, from his fall or the fact that he was going to be late for the dinner. Perhaps stopping at his house wasn't a good idea, and it would have been better to have shown up underdressed at the fancy restaurant. He always liked being early to events. Not only because he could scope out the area for any suspicious behavior and prepare himself, but because it was polite. But it was too late for regrets now. After successfully fastening one button, the door to his room slammed against the wall of his bedroom as it opened. The young man yelped in surprise, and scrambled to shield the stretch of boxer that hadn't been covered yet, as well as fold his not-so-buttoned-up shirt to block any part of his chest from his mother's view. "Mom, now's not really the best time," he started, staring up at her from his spot on the floor. But stopped as he took note of the worry etched on her face. "What's wrong?" Anything could have been wrong. His father could have gotten swallowed up whole by the millions of words he'd written on his computer. Or his Immy could have collapsed at school, when he wasn't with her. Quickly, as if the new purpose gave him strength to fasten the other button, he had his pants completely on, and was working on the middle button of his shirt (that's how he always started anyway). "I heard you fall; I thought you'd hurt yourself," she said, just a bit grim. But then the older, dark haired woman broke out into a teasing grin. "I didn't expect you to express such enthusiasm for your date." Dakota's fingers halted on his fourth to last button, and he blushed. "It's not a date," he stated, before continuing his button-ery. He'd never been on a date before. He hadn't ever really thought about it so much. Just the thought would cause him to blush, maybe even 'causing his cheeks to explode. Dating and Dakota might have sounded good together, but he imagined that it'd just be somewhat of a mess if it actually did happen. Just look at what a wreck he made of his room. Imagine if he was that frantic about finding bottoms and a shirt, how would he be when trying to pick out a movie or a restaurant? Nothing scared him more than girls and dates (except for the ones you eat, 'cause those were good). "Whatever you say, my little Kota-bear," his mom said. It was almost like something Imogen would have said to him, in this situation. You know, just without the motherly tone, her voice would have taken more to teasing than anything else. Kota glanced at her from beneath his dark ginger-brown-ish locks and bit his lip. "Mom, I'm gonna be late!" He said, as if her standing there was keeping him from buttoning his shirt. Which it was embarrassing, he didn't want her to see his chest! That was just too much. He looked down at the white fabric, and then back up at her, expectantly. She gave a nod and opened her mouth as if to say she'd seen it all before, but there was no point, and just went back down the steps. Kota, making up for lost time, rushed to get the buttons into the right hole, and pulled his socks on all the way. Moments later, he rushed down to the entryway, with a light, black sweater in search for his shoes. Well, not really in search. Any time he was home, he left his shoes in the same place. It was like a routine for him, and what he did. Shoes always went in the hallway to the left of the front door. He slipped them on, retying them (just because one loop was looking too loopy and droopy), and turned towards the back of the house, where he knew his parents were. "I'm leaving!" He called, half expecting to hear his mom wish him well on his date, again. "If I don't come back, it's probably because I died of food poisoning. Remember that I was with Nell Shepherd, okay? She'd have been the accomplice in the scheme to murder me." He was totally serious. "Love you, bye!" With that, he left into the night. Or rather, to his impending doom, also known as Northern Lights. When Nell took him out to do something, who really had a clue whether he'd survive or not? She kind of frightened him, actually. It was uncertain to Kota if there was a good!Frighten, but if there was, it'd probably when he spent time with Nell. Even if some of the things he did with her made him think that, oh yes, his life was going to come to an end soon. But he liked spending time with her, so he didn't really want to turn this down. Plus, food was just good. When it wasn't alive and trying to eat you. After entering the fancy schmancy little place, he found his dark haired friend, and took a place across from her. "Hey Nellie," he said with a smile. "You are The Real Nell, right?" How was he supposed to know if an alien invasion had taken place in Maple Hollow while he was fighting a pair of pants in his bedroom?   Coded by Juliet of RCR, ATF, SP, & Caution.

[NELL DOE DALE]

If Nell was left alone much longer, damage would be done to Northern Lights. A bored Nell was not a good Nell to have in an upscale resturaunt. A bored Nell with a spoon was even worse. She had taken to putting pieces of bread on the eating utensil and pulling it back, using it as a slingshot to launch the piece of bread. It usually ended up rolling across the floor, but one time it ended up in a poor old woman’s frizzy hair. Ducking down, Nell scanned the resturaunt to see if anyone saw what she’d done, and then stood up, smoothing down her dress a bit. Well crap. What did she do now? Could she just…reach into the woman’s hair to retrieve the piece of bread? Or… She strolled past the table, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, reaching over to gently touch the woman’s hair. Taking her hand away, she strolled to the bathroom, empty-handed.

In the bathroom, she tried to think of a better way to do it while pretending to fix her hair in the mirror. She’d wait out there for a bit, so she didn’t look to suspicious when she walked by that table again and reached her hand over to the old lady’s hair. Drying off the row of sinks, she perhed atop it and waved as women came in and gave her strange and disapproving looks. After a few minutes, she decided that it was safe to go back out and attempt her little snatching maneuver. Walking close to the table, she felt the woman’s hair again and almost let out a successful ‘aha!’ when she retrieved the piece of bread and sat back down at her own table, dropping the piece of food onto the napkin. Crisis averted. Okay, now she was bored. Why couldn’t they have those placemats and crayons like at other restaraunts? Because this is a fancy restaurant, Nell, now stop slouching, it’s not attractive.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for Kota to arrive. ”Hey Kota,” she greeted back to him. ”You’re looking very spiffy. I’m impressed!” She didn’t even bat an eyelash at his question, just wore a quizzical expression as she lifted her eyebrows. ”What, is it really that weird to see me in a dress?” She looked under the table and inspected her body as if to make sure, then glanced back up at her friend with a big smile. “Well, I’m pretty sure I’m the real Nell,” she said, humoring him. Nell found his paranoia cute—just like everything else about him. But she wouldn’t tell him that. What respectable young man wanted to hear that he was cute all the time? So even she found herself able to hold back on gushing to him. ”But just to make sure, ask me a question that only the real Nell would know.” Of course—like most people—Kota didn’t know much about her personal life or anything like that. But things that had happened between them would be a good way to dispell any of his suspicions.

Folding her arms on the table, and leaning over a bit, her brown eyes glinted rather slyly. She may have been enjoying this a little too much, way too much. ”So, do you want to hear my plans for the night, or would you rather it be a surprise?” Her mouth spread into a mischevious grin, and the Cheshire Cat came to mind. She had half a mind to start telling him riddles, but she wouldn’t torture the poor guy that much. No, what she had planned—in her eyes—was a lot of fun. Of course, Kota’s view of fun and her view of fun were at two different ends of the spectrum. Actually, that wasn’t exactly true. While Nell did enjoy being reckless and wild, there were simple, childish things that she also enjoyed. Like building snowmen and running around on playgrounds. One of her favorite things to do, actually, was to play card games. Those things may have seemed tame, but she’d never built a snowman or played on a swingset before coming to the academy—they were new and exciting to her. Which is what she wanted for Kota, the same kind of exhilerating and fresh enjoyment of doing something you’ve never done before.

The server came over to them, seeing now that her other person had finally arrived, and Nell looked up with her usual bright smile. ”Tell me, what is your most exotic cuisine on the menu?” Would this be worrying to Kota? Hmm… Well, food was good and she couldn’t imagine anyone having reservations about it. The man informed her of a seafood dish—which, of course, would be quite expensive as all seafood dishes were—and she said that she would take that, and also ordered three other main courses. The server eyed her warily, probably wondering if she’d be able to finish it all, but she just kept smiling right back. Oh, she would finish every single morsel and then some. Plus, there were also some things she wanted Kota to try. And speaking of the poor boy soon to be subjected to Nell’s idea of new and interesting, the server turned to him, asking, ”And what will you be having tonight, sir?” She waggled her eyebrows at Kota. Sir, huh? Yeah, that was pretty darn fancy.

She wondered how he felt about all this, and if it was a culture shock or anything. Nell didn’t think he was super rich or anything like that, but she suspected he and his family got by. There was a lot she didn’t know about him considering she didn’t pry into other people’s personal lives unless she was concerned about their well beings, since she didn’t like to give out information about her own life. Which is why it may have seemed strange to him that she had money to do this, considering the fact that she was a seventeen-year-old living alone in a downtown apartment. Most people didn’t know she even had parents or a family—they could have just assumed she congealed in a petry dish. The truth? Well, she was hiding a rich family. A rich family who wanted nothing more than to see her behind bars. Papa says he’s on my side, though. The thought was quite bitter, but considering the fact she was taking his money because of this bitterness, it didn’t even matter. She didn’t believe him to actually be on her side since he really didn’t care about what happened to her. In truth, the only person she felt that was fully and completely on her side was Josh. So her father could just rot in hell.