FOR JUST ONE SECOND - [ASHER]

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

The emptiness was absolute. The chairs and desks were abandoned, the white board scrubbed clean. Books were piled neatly in corners or on shelves. No stray pencils littered the floor, or eraser shavings cluttered the desks. There was complete and total emptiness. The room looked almost untouched, the way many of the classrooms in the Academy were. Only so many were used at a time, and this was one that was hardly, if ever, used at all. This made it the perfect place for solitude – that true solitude not the kind where people said they wanted to be alone, but then went to a really crowded place, looked all depressed, and waited for someone to come talk to them. That was shallow solitude, but this was true privacy. Morgan leaned on the doorframe, one hand still on the knob as her eyes wandered the room. For some reason, she found herself hesitant to actually step in. There was something pristine about the room, perhaps the sense of safety it gave. It had an atmosphere of learning, and provoked memories Morgan had forgotten she had. She remembered notebooks and pencils, simple math and learning to write cursive. All of this had been learned at home, of course, but it was a similar atmosphere. Morgan and Sebastian had been homeschooled. Morgan had always believed that everyone was homeschooled, that there were no big schools, and later when she learned differently – had assumed her family just lived too far away to make the commute. It wasn’t until she left her home for the Academy that she had realized how isolated she had been due to her mother’s paranoia. As a result, classes had been a strange new thing for Morgan, but one she had adjusted to all the same. But the sight of those desks never made her think of the past four years at the Academy, but only of those previous fourteen when she peeked at Sebastian’s answers when she couldn’t get her own.

Morgan forced herself through the door, her hand sliding from the knob. She didn’t bother to even pull the door closed. Unlike in so many other places, she felt safe here. On a day like today, with no classes to attend, the majority of the student body was somewhere else – far from desks and painstaking work. Some were outside, or wandering the grounds. Others sat in dorm rooms with pizza boxes and laughed over soda. Still others were off grounds, out and about in Maple Hollow. Morgan herself rarely ventured into Maple Hollow. She feared the unpredictability of her elemental powers, and thus took precautions. She had ventured out once or twice – to the park, or the rare party. These parties were more for the risk. She knew the people that partied, the one that had needles hidden in sleeves and smiles that spoke of experience. Morgan didn’t crave the drugs, or the numbness that sometimes came with them. For her it was about the adrenaline. She had felt it, little bursts of it that made her feel alive. But that hadn’t been enough, and it wasn’t sustainable. She hunted out things, being near the danger. Thus far she had only lingered, watching college students guzzle beer and jump from tables. But that was wearing out, giving her less excitement as it progressed. She needed something more, something to sustain her. And despite the fact that she was hooked on no illegal substances, had never even done drugs herself, she couldn’t help feeling a little bit like an addict. But how could she be an addict if she couldn’t even find her drug of choice?

She pushed the thoughts away. She wasn’t here for adrenaline, but for solitude. She withdrew a multitude of things from her pockets – a variety of stones in varying sizes and weights. Then she turned to the bag over her shoulder, taking out a text book and setting it on one of the desks. She smoothed out her pants, though they were perfectly unwrinkled. She took a couple of steps back, surveying her stones and textbook. The most inexperienced of freshmen at the Academy could do what she could not – move small objects at will. She had watched them from the corner of her eyes as they summoned small breezes and pushed objects around and around. Try as she might, Morgan couldn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the power or the strength – she had plenty of both. It was that she didn’t have the control. Her abilities seemed to just flare up out of nowhere, and she could never control them. It made her fearful, that sort of power without any reign. It was precisely why she was here. She crossed to the window, gently opening it and letting in the chill of a winter breeze. She crossed back to the desk, staring at the stones. The more she watched them, the more she feared they mocked her. She breathed deeply, feeling the ever-present little breeze that toyed with the loose strands of hair around her face. It was the constant reminder of her abilities, the knowledge that they were there but fleetingly out of her grasp. She tried now to grasp them, to harness that little wind. She stared at a stone, the smallest of the items. It was light enough to be flicked to clatter onto the ground. She focused her attention on it, concentrating on the little breeze around her face. She was rewarded with nothing, just that teasing little breeze on her cheek. She swept out a hand, slapping the stone away. Each day she had come and left with the same result – failure.

TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 945
NOTES: let it begin
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

And all these words that you meant to say
Held in silence day after day
Words of kindness that our poor hearts crave
Please, don't keep them hidden away

OUTFIT.

Class had been exceptionally boring that morning; the teacher droned on and on--perhaps it would not have been so monotonous had he slept the night before. It was almost an addiction to work on his car at this point, and spent a lot of free time getting it into running condition. Asher was a car lover through and through, and used his passion to channel his stress and diffuse memories of the past. However it did have a bit of a downside, like dozing off during class. Head half way falling back as he started to drift, someone behind him flicked the back of his head. Asher quickly jolted forward and nearly fell out of his desk, eliciting a bit of laughter from the students surrounding him. Luckily the teacher was occupied writing something up on the board and did not even pay much heed to the disruption. Asher chuckled and smiled, letting the embarrassment roll off of his shoulders. After another half hour of fighting sleep, the teacher finally dismissed the class and the boy quickly made a b-line for the door. He had to move, and find something to do to stay awake. Luckily there were no more classes for the day, so as he wandered down the hallway and students began to leave, the school became rather quiet. He relished in it.

"Guess I should find something to do..." Hoisting the backpack higher up on his shoulders, Asher decided he would just go back to the shop and get a few hours of work in and add some money to the paycheck. Molly, being single and the supporter of he and Adam needed all the extra money she could possibly get. Asher was very devoted to his family, and wanted to see them thrive. As his thoughts drifted, he passed a few classrooms, noticing they were dark and empty. Guess everyone took off faster than I thought.. His thought trailed off as he turned the corner and saw a girl standing in front of one of the empty classrooms, clearly pondering something. It took a moment or two but Asher recognized the girl--Morgan, was it?--and immediately his interest was piqued. He watched as she finally pushed the door open, leaving it ajar after she was in the room. Eyebrows raised, Asher walked down the hall and peered into the room, staying silent to prevent from startling her. She was a really pretty girl, but unfortunately she was not too keen on socializing much before.

Morgan set down some rocks and book, and proceeded to lift up a window to allow the air to enter the rather stale room. He took a moment to glance around and take notice of how orderly it was, and wondered what it was she was doing here by herself with rocks, a book, and a really heavily organized room obviously set up by someone with OCD. A smile graced his features as he watched; he was not quite sure why he took interested in her book and rock ventures, but what could he say? Asher did what he wanted to do. After a moment or two of Morgan staring at the rocks, she suddenly swiped one off of the desk and let it hit the floor. Asher frowned. "Aww, poor rock." He commented as he entered the room fully, shoving his hands into his pockets as he smiled down at her. "I'm not quite sure what it did but...obviously it didn't do what it should have." Asher emitted a small chuckle as he lifted his hand and picked up the rock with a small gust of wind, setting it back on the desk. "Morgan, right? Is there something wrong? Should I throw the rock out of the window for you?" Asher joked, motioning to the window with his thumb. Noticing that she was probably upset, it was best to keep the mood light instead of prying to deep. He would have hated someone doing that to him, so he avoided doing it to others. His gaze was rather soft and thoughtful as he looked at her.

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

There was something about the clatter of the stone on the floor that just made Morgan angrier. Fourteen year olds could do what she failed to do almost subconsciously, before they had arrived at the Academy. She had no doubt that if it came to a fight, she could kick some major ass – but she couldn’t control said ass kicking. She stared at the stone, hating it more and more as the minutes passed. It was ridiculous, really. She had gotten so high on adrenaline a few weeks ago that she had passed out into the lake after creating a gale that she couldn’t control. She was whipping stones and debris around like nobody’s business. And she had wanted to stop it, but couldn’t. Now all she wanted to do was push a freaking stone across a table and she couldn’t. There was nothing like the bitter taste of inadequacy to make someone’s day. She glanced at the textbook and remaining stones. She had the urge to sweep them all to the ground, to rampage through the room and destroy the beautiful neatness, but she couldn’t. She was a bit OCD herself. She figured, if she couldn’t control her abilities – she would control something else. She was always impeccably dressed (as today) and her dorm room was tidy to the point of creepiness, as some of the other students said. Nothing sat out on the dresser or desk. She had no posters or pictures or decorations. And everything was sea green. She liked the color, it made her think of iridescence, and a little bit of the clear pond back home where she had caught frogs. Of course she had promptly thrown said frogs at Sebastian, but you could never really hurt anyone with a frog.

Words distracted her from her thoughts. She had just bent to pick up the stone when a distinctly male voice spoke from behind her. She whirled, backed against the desk with her remaining items. He was teasing her, she could hear it in his voice as he bent to pick up the rock. She watched as it rose and settled on the desk, his easy utilization of the element they shared. He was mocking her. He was shoving in her face the basic rudimentary skills he had mastered as a child, and she couldn’t even begin to perform. Her gaze flared, the little breeze that tugged at her loose hair grew slightly stronger. It was the constant reminder of her ability, and the stability of her emotions. She placed her hands on the desk, feeling behind her for one of the largest of the stones. It lay behind her back, its view concealed from the boy she vaguely recognized. She closed her fingers around the stone as she searched for his name. It started with an ‘A’. A…Andrew? No. Arthur? Alex? Angus? Whatever, she didn’t give a damn what his name was. She held the stone tightly in her fist, her eyes narrowed. Her lips had formed a hard line when he walked in, but now curved up ever so slightly at the edges. “Fuck you, Angus.” She whipped her hand back, pegging him square in the side of the head with the stone. It wasn’t big enough to injure him or anything of the sort. She didn’t want to get expelled, or whatever happened when things went wrong. She just wanted to hit him with a rock. As far as she could see, her mission had been achieved. Perhaps, if she got lucky, he would leave.

Morgan caught a sight of his eyes before she threw her rock. It was gentle, soft even as he looked at her. It made her distinctly uncomfortable, making her wish she had aimed her rock a little lower, somewhere it would hurt much more and possibly provide an escape route. She picked up her textbook, holding it in her arms not quite threateningly, but with definite insinuation. “Mock me again and it won’t be a rock. So why don’t you gather what’s left of your pride, take your stupid little Wind tricks and go find some ditzy Earth to clap and laugh at your performance.” She whirled back, turning her back to him. She didn’t want him to see that despite her aggression, she was mortified to have been caught by a fellow Wind trying to perform one of the simplest maneuvers. That little breeze tugged insistently at her hair, warning her of the horrible things that could happen should he provoke her further. She smirked to herself, though it lacked amusement. There was a reason the other students called her “Hurricane” behind her back.


TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 780
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

And all these words that you meant to say
Held in silence day after day
Words of kindness that our poor hearts crave
Please, don't keep them hidden away

OUTFIT.

What Asher expected and what actually happened stunned him a little bit. Now, he had to admit that he should not have been surprised after their first encounter a while back, but he was not one to assume that people would act the same in every scenario. Apparently his assumption was wrong, and before he could even put up a hand to defend himself the girl threw him the coldest glare before pegging him in the side of the head with the larger of the two rocks. Asher's hand shot up to cover the wounded area, the skin now throbbing beneath his palm. When he pulled it back a few specks of blood were visible; obviously the throw was just hard enough to break the skin. Had he been a fire or thunder elemental, Morgan would have had quite the fight on her hands, what with their intense tempers and knack for vengeance. Asher prided himself on being different. After staring at his hand for a minute he looked up at her with a bemused expression on his face. "Wasn't quite expecting that," Asher mused aloud, pursing his lips a little bit to ignore the nagging pain in his temple. "Nor was I expecting to be called Angus. I'd be flattered if I were a cow but..." He shrugged it off, clearly not too phased by her small burst of anger.

It did not take long to see that Morgan was genuinely bothered by his presence, but was not quite sure as to why. Unless walking into a classroom was illegal, there was really no warrant for her vicious attack. It was of no matter though; Asher was stubborn and did not want to admit that her aggressive tendencies were his fault. Just bad timing maybe? On both accounts, it was at least possible. Maybe she's dealing with some shit outside of school and doesn't want to talk about it. He was accustomed to his father and Adam who were both fire elementals, so the temper did not phase him much, if at all. He watched as she picked up her book and tossed him a threat, which Asher took quite seriously even though he smiled a little bit. His hand ran through his hair as he sighed. "Well, for one I wasn't mocking anyone. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I noticed you seemed aggravated. Was trying to help." Asher wondered why Morgan even assumed he was mocking her; all he did was pick up a rock and set it on the table with a simple maneuver that all wind elementals knew and understood. He had no idea she was not able to control her power. "For two," Asher lifted two fingers. "It was not a wind trick or a performance. All I did was pick up a rock and set it on the table. I apologize if using my powers offended you, but it wasn't intended."

Instinctively, Asher put both of his hands up a little bit to show resignation and avoid any sort of fight; it was not in his nature to try and egg anyone on or piss people off. With Morgan, however, it seemed that just his existence was enough to throw rocks. Asher frowned a little and shrugged before pushing a smile back onto his face. It can't be just me. That's stupid. I've only met her once...what the hell could I have possibly said to make her hate me? Instead of saying something for a moment and prolonging another possible rock to the head, the boy picked up the weapon that lay at his feet and walked over to the window, tossing it with little to no finesse. Someone below let out a yelp and began cursing up at the window. Asher laughed a little bit and waved the innocent bystander off. "Sorry! Gravity and all that. That rock is out for blood!" Asher made a mental note to avoid using his power around this girl, but still he was curious. Why was she in here, why did she throw the rock on the ground, why did she hit him with the rock, and why did she assume he was mocking her? With a little smile he turned and looked at Morgan, tilting his head. "Are you just practicing or something? If so, they have better classrooms down the hall with fewer desks. It hurts like hell to get hit with one when you're slinging them around..." He flinched a little at the sting on the side of his head, mostly at the memory of being hit with the desk.

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

Amusement colored Morgan’s features at the rapid change of facial expressions on this boy’s face. The gentle little smile was replaced by shock as her stone pegged him square in the head. She smirked, folding her arms across her chest. The shock shifted to bemusement, which only frustrated Morgan further. She wasn’t sure how she could make herself any clearer. She threw a freaking rock at him, and he still wouldn’t leave. He was like one of those ducks in the park, the ones that had gotten fed so often that they had lost their natural fear of humans. Now they just waddled around, getting underfoot no matter how many rocks you threw at them. They quacked and ruffled their feathers, maybe hopped a few feet away, but never really left. She glanced at the desks surrounding them. She was petite, not much muscle to her bones. But she bet if she tried hard enough, she could probably lift one. Perhaps if she threw that, he would really get the picture. But then again, that might be crossing the line a bit. It wasn’t that Morgan was a particular stickler for rules, but she was realistic. As much as she hated to admit it, if she got expelled from the Academy, she would have nowhere left to go. She tore her gaze from the desk and settled it on the boy who was rubbing his head. She looked him up and down. “You’re worse than a cow. A cow I can butcher and consume without any legal retribution.” There wasn’t really any threat laced into these words. He knew as well as she did that she could make his life hell, but butchering was truly out of the question. She bent and picked up her bag, sweeping the stones into it and stuffing the textbook after. She kept a single stone out, rolling it over in her fingers.

She watched him through narrowed eyes as he crossed to the window and chucked her stone. Her mouth turned down with annoyance. It had taken her forever to find stones of just the right size and shape, and he had gone and thrown one out the window. Her grip tightened slightly on the remaining stone in her fingers. Perhaps he needed a matching bruise on the other side of his head, or a black eye. “Actually this classroom was perfect, before you got here. I don’t know what you do in your spare time, but I have better things to do then sling desks around.” This wasn’t entirely true. She couldn’t actually sling a desk around, voluntarily at least. But he didn’t have to know that. She stared at him, her gaze pure poison. She couldn’t figure out how someone could be so oblivious. She was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. She felt like she was being analyzed, like behind those laughing eyes laid a predator in wait. He denied mocking her, but she knew it was a lie. He was standing there, judging her for all that he could do and she couldn’t. He was sizing her up, writing her down as weak, as powerless, something to be manipulated. The more she thought about it, the angrier it made her. She reached her hand up, pushing the stray strands of hair from her face. They were whipping around pretty good now as her anger increased. Her emotions and her abilities had a sort of exponential relationship. When her emotions increased, so did her display of ability. And as she stood, eyes on this cow of a boy, she was fighting to control her annoyance and the prickling feeling on her spine.

Morgan wasn’t used to this. She sought solitude and when it was interrupted, she made sure the interrupter was soon gone. She knew how to handle bitches, threats, animosity, bullying. But this – this she didn’t understand. He was the third now, the third she couldn’t escape. First there had been Nell. Her cheeks flamed just thinking of the older Earth girl who had rescued Morgan from drowning and carried her unconscious body to the hospital. Then Ace, the Wind graduate who had sat at her bedside and wet her brow as she sank in and out of consciousness and a delirious fever. And finally, there was Beef Patty here who just watched her with that gentle smile. Her hands balled into fists, her fingers closing on the stone. “Tick tock, look at that, patience is up. You have exactly fifteen seconds before I-” She cut herself off. Before she what? She didn’t know what was hidden behind his laughing eyes. What if he called her out on her threat? She looked sharply away, her jaw clenched. “Just get out.”

TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 794
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

And all these words that you meant to say
Held in silence day after day
Words of kindness that our poor hearts crave
Please, don't keep them hidden away

OUTFIT.

"Wow, someone's in a really testy mood today," Asher commented dryly, his eyebrows rising and falling as he looked at her. After Adam started having his more outlandish outbursts at home, raging about even the tiniest things, Asher was not bothered by Morgan's threats. What was she going to do anyway? Eat him alive right then and there? No matter how angry someone was they would not resort to something so stupid and violent...right? A smile twitched at the edge of his lips for a brief moment, shoulders cradling his neck in a sort of shrugging gesture. "I'm definitely not edible by any means. But I guess I can take it as a complement if I pull it out of context just a little bit." No matter how much the brunette wanted to be bothered by Morgan's insane hostility, his pride would not allow him to do so. It made no sense for her to get angry so quickly when all he was trying to do was make conversation. Asher wondered why he was even making attempts in the first place, being as he focused his tasks on convenience. This was not convenient by any means, but seeing her so frustrated made him curious. I don't even know if I've ever met another wind who was so aggressive. Winds had no distinctive guideline for personality traits; they were more of a toss up of different elements and thrown into one, each person having the chance of getting some pretty nasty attitudes.

As soon as Asher tossed the rock out of the window and turned his attention back towards the girl, he noticed that she had another rock between her fingers. He wanted to recoil and step back, to tell her that it was not necessary, but if Morgan was anything like Adam (or his dad) acting too peaceful would make the problem worse. They fed off of the peace-makers and liked to see them squirm. Gave them a sense of power. Asher was not interested in letting Morgan think he was afraid, because the next thing she threw might not be a rock. "Oh, is that so? I actually find it pretty amusing so long as you don't get hit with one. Anything is fair game to be thrown around when you have our powers." Asher chuckled lightly, wanting to display his powers, but once again held himself back. He honestly did not want another rock to the face. They were small, but they hurt like hell and did not want to explain to his mom and little brother that he got bested by a female with a temper that rivaled a fire student. How embarrassing.

That hesitation vanished, however, when Morgan spat him another threat, this time a lot less intense than the others. Asher wanted to know what it was about him that pissed her off so bad, and why she was so guarded about her powers. Never had he met someone so hostile; even the fire elementals were not this easily provoked (well, most of them anyway). Normally you would have to throw an insult or hit them for retaliation, but for Morgan...hell, all you had to do was exist, or at least be in the same room. Without much thought to his actions, Asher passed her a quizzical look before nodding at the door. The air circulating the room shifted slightly, and within second the door slammed itself shut. "I'm not really quite sure what it is that I've done to piss you off, besides the fact that I'm breathing," Asher started before walking towards the shut door and standing there lazily with his hands in his pockets. "But it doesn't bother me, you know. I've dealt with worse." And that was true. After dealing with Collin, and then his brother Adam not much frightened him when it came to a fiery temper. Morgan could try all she wanted, but until he figured out why she was so angry he had no intention of running down the hall screaming like a little girl simply because she threw a rock at his head and a few empty threats.

"So, throw shit at me all ya want. I have no problem letting you get out your frustrations, whatever they are." He glanced over the girl for a second before allowing the breeze to wrap itself around him, the air cool and soothing on his skin. For a long minute he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before looking at the desks in the room. The wind began to pick up considerably, and soon the desks were lifted off of the ground. Asher lifted a hand out of his pocket and began to whirl the desks around rather slowly, their circular motions becoming tornado-like in nature as they whirled around. He watched with a small smile as they whirled a little bit faster, a few of the books falling off of the shelves and trinkets clattered to the floor. Nothing had been broken...yet. The gale in the room grew stronger, his own hair wiped back from his face. After allowing the rather large desk tornado to wreak havoc on the back of the room, Asher relinquished control and stacked them into a rather large pile. The teacher was going to have one hell of a time getting those put back in the right places. "Like I said, anything is game. Sling a desk at me then. Or a book. Make yourself feel better. I'm not going to move from this spot so...have at me then." He wasn't going to promise that he would hold back using his powers because a desk to the head would be rather painful but if it made Morgan feel better then so be it. Even though he was a little perturbed by her attitude, the smile on his face was still soft and his eyes glowed with a sense of understanding. Asher was an odd one for sure, but he liked to be unique.


[Note: I over-stepped his limits for his grade for using his power--normally he would not have the ability to create such a powerful move. Won't happen again my lovely admins~ Thanks for letting me know.]

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

All one needs is an instant. So much can happen in a second, a minute, a single moment. It has been written and rewritten since the dawn of man, of intellect and truth. A knife to the heart and after a few gasping breaths, Juliet collapses into pale-faced death her eyes still open and glued to the stillness of her passed lover. Folded hands pound on a still chest, ears pressed to silent skin, and as the clock ticks water sputters from blue lips and breath returns. Life and death are irreversibly tangled, but somehow manage to stay just those few meager inches away that keep them separate entities. And somewhere amidst the life and death, the miracles and the tragedies, laid the one iron clad string that bound them so closely together – fear. As Morgan stood, hands balled into fists and jaw clenched, she found that the only thing she truly felt was fear. She fought to keep her eyes narrowed, to keep them from stretching open in terror as the desks – so solid and stable – lifted from their places on the floor. Her hands unclenched of their own volition and she stepped back, looking for something solid to grip. Her fingers brushed the desk behind her just as it began to lift from the ground. She stumbled forward, her eyes jumping around wildly. The stone clattered from her grasp, bouncing noisily on the floor. There was nothing to stop it rolling, as this boy created a dance in midair. Morgan wasn’t sure where to look. She craned her head, watching them with her jaw gaping. This was true power, true strength. He did it so effortlessly, watching his creation with bemusement. And then, as easily as he had done everything else, he stacked the desk one on top of the other.

Terror is an unmistakable emotion, difficult to hide and even more difficult to control. Morgan stared at Asher – the anger she had previously had was sucked away by her fear. As she stared at him, she couldn’t even muster the strength to hide her terror. There was a plea in her eyes. She knew, better than anyone else, the power of emotions like anger, like joy, like sorrow and like fear. She gazed at him in awe, with envy and with desire. He was all that she should be, that she should be able to do but couldn’t. Even as she stood there, still and silent, she could feel it rising inside of her. That little breeze grew violent, whipping her hair around her face. Her heart hammered in her chest. His words were lost on her, the ease of his voice and his confidence. The pile of desks he had created began to shake, twisting as they began to rise again but with none of the grace and control Asher had displayed. Morgan looked to Asher, her fear provoking her to anger. “Get out! I told you to get out!” The desks hovered above her head, their instability clear. Other things in the room were beginning to shake now, clattering to the floor or rising to hover with the desks. Sealed in the small classroom, Asher and Morgan were creating opposing gales, dangerous for the most experienced of elementals. Morgan made no movements, but for her eyes. They flicked between Asher and the desks, pleading with him to flee. And somehow, worse than her utter lack of control and the danger she was in – she found she cared whether this boy was hurt. All he had done was smile at her, smile and laugh and deflect her threats. And whether she intended to or not, she was going to hurt much more than his pride.

She could feel it, the surging of her abilities. They rose in her, provoked by her fear. They rose to battle the threat she had perceived, the threat that was Asher. Her anger at his stubbornness clashed with her fear. “Why couldn’t you have just left? Why couldn’t you just hate me like I needed you to? I’m telling you to get out!” Random objects now swirled in a giant slow menacing circle over Morgan’s head, but they shook with each passing moment. Morgan’s stability was fading, and she knew it. How had this all begun anyways? Was it with a bullfrog thrown at Sebastian? Perhaps that day on the rope swing? Or was it here and now, with a stone and the desire for control? Despite it all, despite the lack of control, despite her fear and her anger, Morgan felt alive. Her heart hammered in her chest, but it was pushed by surging waves of adrenaline. A smile flirted on the edges of her lips. She felt electric, alive, like the things she did with Brett. It had been this way at the lake too, the quiet love of the moment. But that feeling faded. This wasn’t just her and a lake. The smile faded, replaced by terror again as a stillness surrounded her. She looked to Asher again, but didn’t scream. Her voice was loud in the still silence. “Get out.” And the desks were propelled forward, beginning to crash towards the floor

TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 868
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

And all these words that you meant to say
Held in silence day after day
Words of kindness that our poor hearts crave
Please, don't keep them hidden away

OUTFIT.

The smile on Asher's face slowly faded. The atmosphere was beginning to change, and seemed rather startled by the rattling of the desks he so neatly stacked on top of one another. He watched with wide eyes as he glanced over at Morgan, who seemed to be taking control of the air in the room. He parted his lips to say something, anything to get her to stop but they were quickly halted by her demand for him to leave. Asher almost backed towards the door; he was prepared to take the handle sling it open, ready to run and leave this behind as the desks began to circle dangerously above Morgan's head. Fear filled his eyes as he watched, wondering what would happen should one of the desks stray too close and hit her. Stiff with nerves, Asher caught Morgan's eyes and dropped his shoulders. Even though the whirlwind of desks above their heads was an imminent threat, there was something in Morgan's gaze that told him something was wrong. She looked...frightened. Very, very frightened. As he stepped forward, Asher ducked to narrowly avoid being clacked in the head by a book, his eyes staring up at the chaos above them. It was formidable, and made him curious as to why she did not display this towards him in the first place if she was so angry. Maybe it's not controllable... Asher mused to himself, heart racing with anxiety. What was intended to be a friendly gesture turned into a tornado.

The gaze Morgan passed onto him went from fear to anger, but even so it was not as cold and calculating as it was before. Asher swallowed hard to try and focus, his eyes closing for a half second as he kept his head low. "I'm stubborn, I guess!" Asher yelled out over the gale of wind that pushed past them, his hair shifting to the side. "And there's no need for me to hate you. I have no reason! So just...put the desks down. I'll leave, if it means you won't hurt yourself." He was still talking over the rush of wind, but he was not quite sure if she even heard it or not. Normally Asher would have vanished; if anyone else had chucked that rock at the side of his head, or called him names, or pushed him away so aggressively he might have shrugged and wandered away. So why am I still standing here facing possible endangerment to my physical being? Once again he ducked to avoid another book, and after he lifted his head again a desk hit him on the back of the head. Asher winced at the pain that seared his skin and raked its way down his neck and spine like a wildfire. It was more painful than the rock, to be sure.

As he held the back of his head tightly and arched his back down to avoid being hit again, the wind slowed to a stop and silence filled the room. It was almost suffocating, and concern for Morgan drew his eyes up to meet her stare. He flicked his eyes up to see that the desks were faltering, about to tumble to the floor. Damn gravity... Asher thought as she ordered him to leave again, the desk above her head making its way to the floor. "Move!" He cried out. Ignoring the pain in his head, the fear in his heart, the racing thoughts, Asher pushed himself forward and knocked Morgan out of the way of the hovering objects. They came down with a loud crash, some of them falling against one another and breaking into several pieces while others lay discarded on their side. One managed to land on his ankle in the rescue mission, drawing forth a hiss from Asher to control the pain. As soon as the silence returned to the room, he opened his eyes and looked down at her, chest heaving.

"Are you okay? None of them hit you, did they?" He shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest before looking at her again. Asher felt guilty, and his heart sank into his stomach. I feel like I caused this... "I'm sorry. I d-didn't mean to..." Didn't mean to what? Scare her? Be a stubborn ass? Try and make friends? Who knew. It didn't matter. Morgan probably hated him more now than she did before, and after searching her face for a moment Asher pushed himself up off of her and tried to stand, falling back from the pain in his ankle. "Agh! Shit...I'm just getting all sorts of beat up today. Guess I deserve it." He wrapped his hands around his ankle, noticing that it had already begun to swell. Since when did he ever go out of his way for someone? That probably bothered him more than the pains in his head and foot. He reached up and touched the back of his head, which had a large lump and was now bleeding. He pulled back his hand to find the red liquid on his fingers. "Damn..."

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

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TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
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Pride was a deadly sin, one of seven. It seemed that all the great and terrible things of the world came in sevens. There were seven world wonders, seven deadly sins, and seven days of the week just to name a few. Wherever you turned, that little number was controlling some part of your life. But of the twenty-one things named there, the days, wonders and sins, Morgan was only focused on one. Pride. If she were to personally embody one sin, it would be pride. It drove her to do many of the unwise things she did. It was the more than occasional source of her hostility, it was the way she walked and held herself, it was the way she slapped away the hand extended to pick her to her feet. It was closely connected with weakness, but more than that, with vulnerability. Weakness could be altered in a moment, by a weapon or courage or some other wonderful virtue. But vulnerability, well you only needed to be vulnerable for a moment to be struck down. Morgan had been consumed by a deep-seated vulnerability for the past four years, and lived in fear of being struck down. Even now, as the wind blew around her and the deadly stillness settled in the room, Morgan was vulnerable in more ways than the obvious. It was strange, that as the world literally crashed down around her, all she could think about was her own vulnerability. She didn’t concentrate on regrets, her life didn’t flash before her eyes. She didn’t send a prayer to any false god, nor feel that sudden absolving love some claimed to be filled with. She focused on her vulnerability, and her relief that it was finally going to end. She wasn’t suicidal by any means, but she had lived a tired life.

It was just as Morgan accepted this relief, and her muscles relaxed, that she felt the air leave her body. She gasped, falling to the floor. Her head hit the ground and blackness danced in front of her eyes. She curled instinctively, still wheezing and dazed. She watched as if in slow motion as books and other stray materials crashed to the floor. The room had gone still, absent of the blustering winds the two of them had created. Morgan’s vision cleared, the sideways world returned right-side up. She sat up slowly, aware of the boy crouched over her. He was so close, the way Ace had been when she first awakened in the hospital. Her muscles tensed. She wasn’t one for physical contact of any sort, mostly because she had forsaken it years ago. He was close enough for her to feel the heat of his heavy breathing and feel the brush of his shirt on her skin. She backed away, sliding on the floor in an attempt to get as far out of his reach as possible. It was then that she saw him shift one of the desks, removing it from where it had tumbled on his ankle. She was silent as he spoke, not sure how or if she could formulate a response. As she watched him trail off, lifting a hand to the back of his head, Morgan was overwhelmed by exhaustion. Her eyes drooped and her knees felt weak though she was still on the ground. Her teachers had warned her of this, the overexertion. They said her stamina would grow, though Morgan wasn’t sure whether to regard that as something to look forward to. All that meant was more destruction, and a less secure safety net. She had already passed out once.

Morgan pursed her lips at the memory. It all came back to Ace, Ace and the hospital. Ace and the gentle way he wiped her forehead and tucked the sheets around her – Ace who barely hesitated to take off his shirt when she, delirious and panicked, demanded it of him. Morgan pulled her knees to her chest, shifting so her back leaned against one wall. She tilted her head back, breathing in deep long breaths. She looked to the boy. He had drawn his hand back, red and sticky with blood. She looked down at herself, bruised but safe because of him. She stood, her knees shaking, and removed her outer sweater (she still had a perfectly suitable long sleeve shirt underneath). She walked towards him slowly, still hesitant to be near him. She tossed the fabric at him. “Press it to your head, to stop the bleeding.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she cleared her throat. She had done the same thing for Sebastian, though she had had to press the fabric over his entire body as she screamed for help. She swallowed. “Head wounds bleed a lot.” She turned away from him, determined that this would be it. He had saved her, yes, but it had all begun with a gaze she could no longer remember as laughing and gentle – but mocking. She didn’t want to look at him. But even as she fought to leave him, the only thing she could think about was him crouching over her. In that instant, before the fear set in, she had felt perfectly and utterly safe. For a single instant, that vulnerability had faded away. She had almost wanted to reach out, cocoon herself in that safety. She rolled her shoulders. “Don’t come near me again.” But she couldn’t put the menace in her words. As she turned to make her way to the doorway, leaning heavily on whatever stability she could find, she fought the urge to return to him.



TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 939
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

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