*i'll follow you until you love me. {emmie

[Henri Klemmensen]

• • • • • • •[/color]

(

[/color]now to keep my fingers from making mistakes)[/color]

TO TELL MY VOICE TO SPEAK UP SPEAK UP
AND KEEP MY CONSCIENCE CLEAN, I WANT TO THINK
YOU'RE DRESSED TO KILL, I'M CALLING YOU OUT

[/color][/center]

Things had been scheduled. Of course, not on exact dates and times, but plans had been made and schedules had been scheduled. The things that were happening in Henri's life had... surely changed. He wasn't naive as a small child might be anymore, of course, he'd read a Wikipedia article and figured out that a lot now made sense. Of course, it had been advised against from the person he'd made plans with, Emmie. Also known as Emilia Ventura, daughter of Hypnos and possibly one of the prettiest people. Who'd Henri'd given the name Sweetheart. From a song, he presumed, but it was still something that had happened during late night discussions about something or nothing. And the person who'd deemed him the italian term for kitten. Which was a strange nickname, but it made sense if you thought about their love of cats. And she was Italian.... So it didn't make that big of a difference. And by Italian she didn't mean Jersey Shore Italian or Olive Garden Italian. It was the full-out "Born in the Italian countryside and probably lived off spaghetti for the vast majority of my life up until I was older and then I moved to New York" Italian. Yeah. Not an easy prospect for someone who'd grown up in the same place up until he'd came to the camp to digest. He couldn't imagine growing up with multiple languages around him. Sure, he apparently understood how to read Greek, thanks to the ADHD skills, and could instantly understand the French language, thanks to his Mother. And somehow, he could speak it too. It'd happened once when he was like eleven, his Dad just looked at him with the most confused expression and his wife, Henri's stepmother (Who Henri loved like a real Mother, not like one of those wicked stepmothers in fairy tales), who'd taken French in high school, looked at him with a flustered expression, shook her head and wondered where in the world he'd learned at age eleven how to speak nearly flawless French. Maybe for someone who was Canadian. The accent was always so hard to pin down accurately, so he'd ended up speaking very limited things from that point on, though he was confused what in the hell had been going on until it was explanation when he was thirteen years old and found out that his mother was the goddess of love and lust (which he hadn't grasped the meaning of until the night previous because you know. Wikipedia articles and urbandictionary.) and romance and all that. And apparently French was the language of love (Or at least according to the hundreds upon thousands of 80's teen comedies that always seemed to have the French foreign exchange student who ended up dating the nerdy but adorable main character. Or at least in his stepmothers feel-good movie, Better Off Dead, and possibly one of the most wonderfully cheesy movies in existence.)

But back on track. Due to these plans that had been made, regardless of all of the different things that were going on, Henri wanted a pet cat to hide in a cabin right at that very moment. He didn't care when it was, but at that moment... He wanted a cat. And possibly to see Emmie again. Like, in person. To apologize for the umpteenth time about looking up things she'd told him not to look up. She'd seemed upset, but that was just Henri making a big deal out of things that shouldn't be big deals. It was his nature to make himself feel like he was wronging people and making them feel like he was demeaning to his self confidence. All in all, he was a nervous wreck with the self-esteem to match. What a catch, Donnie. And with a little bit of insanity, a whole lack of sleep from the night previous and the choice that today was the day he would get his damned cat (Who'd he name Jon. Jon Walker. Jon, The Bells. The Bells, Jon.) and Emmie would have hers and it'd be a tea party of happiness and insanity. Anyway, it wasn't going to be a huge deal. Unless he made it that way. But he was going to make a big deal of it, like he did with 90% of the other things he'd dealt with in his life. So as he pursued the outside word, the cabin circle. His footsteps creaked as he hopped down from the lovely white-painted porch of the cabin he lived in and walked in a semi-circle around the small row of cabins that occupied the camp. Twelve of them. Not all inhabited, Hera's and Artemis's being unoccupied by anything at all. For the longest time, three other cabins had been unoccupied as well, but had been taken up recently by people who were apparently more powerful than the average demi-god because of their Olympian parents status in it all. But because of Emmie being the daughter of a god that was considered "lesser" by others (though he was amazing because everybody needed sleep no matter freaking what.) she was living in the Hermes cabin, which wasn't a bad place to be, nor was it the prettiest of all of them. So he walked in circles. Over and over and over.

And finally, by the time out of the corner of his eye, he saw her, he rushed up the steps to the cabin, smiling. "So, Emmie! Kittens? Yes or no?"

[/blockquote][/justify]

• • • • • • •[/color]

W O R D S 900ish
W E A R I N G CLICK
N O T E S I don't even know. He's weird.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[Emilia Ventura]

& what lies lurk in kisses
FOR THAT FACE WHICH LAUNCHED A THOUSAND SHIPS
• • • • • • • • • • • •

Emmie was lying in her bed, her pillow pretty much creating a force field from the world around her. Sort of. She could hear people talking, but she pretended no one was there, since she couldn't see them. Made sense, right? Of course it does. She'd been awake for maybe only ten minutes, and was positive it was too early for her. But she refused to look, just in case, for some reason, it was like...really late. The demigod wasn't tired, but damn, her bed was comfy. And warm. And Emmie didn't want to leave because of those reasons. Of course, she'd have to get up some time. Or not--she'd done it before. Slept through the day, even two one time. She'd woken up in the infirmary, feeling amazing. Apparently her cabin-sharers thought she was in a coma or something. Couldn't they just let a girl sleep?

Surprisingly, Emmie began to drift back into sleep. Well, sort of. Semi-aware of the world around her, she was pretty much taking what was called a 'cat nap'. Time went by, and the cabin began to empty, except for a few stragglers. Then someone shook her awake. Pretty much scared to death, Emmie jolted upwards into an upright position. ...And managed to hit her head on the bunk above her like usual. She gasped (though she shouldn't really be surprised about that anymore; she did it nearly every day) and cradled her head in her hand. Turning slightly, she glared at her 'attacker', who stared back open-mouthed. "What, you're just gonna stand there?" Emmie whined, standing up. "Why'd you--"

"So, Emmie! Kittens? Yes or no?"

Frightened once again, Emmie turned. Henri. She let out a shriek, realizing she was wearing just shorts and a tank top. Yes, in winter. She couldn't sleep in pants; they got tangled. How? Emmie couldn't tell you. But that's not the point. Emmie looked from Henri and back to herself probably about three times before shouting, "Give me a second, Henri!" She rushed to her drawer and quickly pulling out clothes, looking for matching colors and practically nothing else. Then she ran into the bathroom and got dressed as quickly as possible. Leaning towards the mirror, Emmie grabbed some hairspray--who cared whose it was, it smelled like strawberries!--and attempted to keep the semi-curls in place. Before running back into the cabin, she pulled on a pink wool hat and smiled at herself in the mirror. She didn't look terrible for having, what, five minutes to get dressed? "Do I match?" She whispered to the girl who'd woken her up; who simply replied with a 'Yeah, mostly. You know, that guy must've passed the cabin at least--' Emmie shrugged, and ran off, grabbing her backpack and shoes.

She ran outside the cabin, pretty much breathless. "Hi Henri!" Emmie grinned, dropping her stuff and hugging him. Then she sat on the ground and pulled on her shoes, before jumping back up, grinning. "And yes, kittens! Oh my gosh, I'm so excited!" Emmie grinned, grabbing for Henri's hand and practically pulling him along towards the entrance of the camp. You could tell she was excited; the girl was very nearly running.

YO, HENRI! THIS HAS I DON'T EVEN CARE HOW MANY WORDS. THE OUTFIT LOOKS LIKE THIS, AND THIS TEMPLATE IS MOSTLY BY PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION.
PS: YAY! APPARENTLY EMMIE DOESN'T GET COLD. -points at sleepwear and outfit-

[Henri Klemmensen]

• • • • • • •[/color]

(

[/color]i'm scared of death and it shows)[/color]

I'D BLOW OUT THE FLAME BUT IT GLOWS
LOOK IN YOUR EYES THINGS I DON'T WANT TO KNOW
AND EVERYTHING COMES OUT THE WRONG WAY

[/color][/center]

First come, first serve. Sure, when you lived in a town the size of a crackerbox.... Like, seriously. Arriba, Colorado. With a population of just 244 people plus a small approximate estimate of 82 dogs, 103 cats and a small assortment of other animals and so forth. Yep, they even kept a running count on the critters in the town. Of course, there really wasn't something else you could do with your time. Outside of the annual town census, there really wasn't anything interesting that happened at town hall. Ever. And town hall was just this little building on the corner by the gas station.... It was far from being what you'd consider impressive. But hey, when you lived in a small town at first glance, it was something you got used to. Henri knew the rest of the children who were somewhat in his age pretty well, despite the fact that his father was a complete recluse and his step-mother but real mother in a way of actually being taken care of, and all those assortments of things. You know, tied his shoes when he was a young child and made sure that his nose was wiped before he went outside so he could frolic in the snow. You know, they did like in Colorado. It was cold there, which was probably why Henri was pretty tolerant to anything that New York and it's surrounding areas had dished out to him. Sometime during the trip here when he'd been a twelve year old with even worse abandonment issues, it'd been to hot for him to leave the car somewhere in the midwest and he'd curled up and pretty much had a psychological meltdown in the back of the car. When asked "Why are you being so uncooperative, Henri Jonathan Klemmensen?" All his father had gotten out of him was a look of despair and a sobbing of tears. To stain the car. You know, memories and all that. Something you needed to hold onto.

In which he decided that he wasn't going to do that again. Really. It wasn't the best thing on earth to dwell on the things that had made your father think you were on something, even at the age of twelve when you'd grown up in Colorado with naivety to everything but the horrors of the heat of the sun. You know, the basic thing. And then he'd given Henri the "Drug talk" even if Henri would never really come in contact with drugs. In which he'd been told to always say no to drugs, never once, and was reminded through the rest of the trip to the camp that "Drugs were bad and will kill you if you use them. Do you understand, Henri Klemmensen?" And then his father had dropped him off, told him he loved him and about two weeks farther along the line, Henri was told his mother was Aphrodite. Yep. Life was weird for him when he was a small child and it was something assumed. He was a strange child and it did indeed explain a lot. "Give me a second, Henri!" The words echoed from the cabin, in which Henri wondered if he'd woken her up... Shit. No, that wasn't the right thing to do. Waking people up wasn't nice and it'd never be considered nice. It'd be considered mean, bitter, and all that. He instantly grabbed onto the railing that was on the small front porch of the Hermes cabin, wondering if he could just say something like "Sorry for waking you up... Another time, maybe?" But he knew that would even be more rude because it just simply screamed "I DON'T CARE ANYMORE, IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT THAT YOU DIDN'T WAKE UP" and while that was far from what he felt, he was still a little bit of a nervous wreck concerning that issue. But no. As he grasped the rail, he stood up straight, assessing the situation. Well, there were cats to be gotten, and he intended on meandering into the city, which wasn't that far away if you thought about it.... And that always worked. He figured it was a decent thing to do. He'd been out of the camp a few times since he'd been admitted, once for his birthday when he'd turned sixteen and his father told him with a reluctant smile on his face that "I'd taken work off for this, Henri! I can teach you how to drive!" But that'd flunked and he'd turned out basically crashing the car. You know, the works. A few other things had happened as well outside of that, but very rarely would he leave this singular place that he lived. It was a neat idea, a camp for people and all that, but it made him feel confined. And with the rule in place of not leaving if you didn't have permission. Henri felt rebellious. For once in his life. Issues with authority were overthrown when you wanted to go cat hunting, he presumed.

"Hi Henri!" In which Emmie came bursting onto the porch, a multitude of colors and patterns. It all worked though. It wasn't like he was some guru on those things and all that. But she looked nice. With a happiness to her, Emmie seemed to run/skip up to him and hugged him. She was a hug-type person, wasn't she? Henri wasn't used to physical contact of any kind, probably because of his germaphobe father. You know. So, with a smile and in a haze of mumbling little words and awkward Henri-ness, he smiled and said "You look nice, Emmie. Really pretty." Which was a true statement. As everything was that Henri said, it was the truest statement you could think of. Lying was strictly against his regime, and he refused to take place in the little petty gossips also known as the Aphrodite cabin slurs. You know, the words that were cruel and mean and overall just sad and gross sounding. "And yes, kittens! Oh my gosh, I'm so excited!" Emmie had squealed, and with a smile, Henri nodded and tacked a comment. "I know, right? Cats are just the best thing on earth. Unless you're like ninety and have four hundred cats and are a prime candidate in that cat hoarder show... Then you might need help. But nope, that's a good seventy years away." And then she grabbed his hand. Well, another first. Somebody had never really held his hand... But at the same time, it was him being pulled to the front entrance of something. There was a difference. But still.

[/blockquote][/justify]

• • • • • • •[/color]

W O R D S 900ish
W E A R I N G CLICK
N O T E S I don't even know. He's weird.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[Emilia Ventura]

& what lies lurk in kisses
FOR THAT FACE WHICH LAUNCHED A THOUSAND SHIPS
• • • • • • • • • • • •

To be honest, Emmie had not been expecting Henri today. If she had, she would have been up hours ago, doing her hair for the bulk of that. She'd have been prepared, because she was that sort of person. If she thought about it, she remembered thinking that Henri wouldn't want to actually go out and find a kitten. It had just been a thought at the time, but here they were, already heading out to the big city to do just that. The idea thrilled her. Of course, she had no idea how to take care of a care. No idea of what it ate--meat, probably, but she could be wrong. And definitely no idea if they were even allowed pets. That was just too bad; because Emmie wanted two. One for the each of them! Another thing she hadn't really thought about was actually be able to find a kitten, let alone two! New York City was big. Huge, actually. And stray kitten didn't just lie around, waiting for someone to pick them up. Emmie was so excited by the thought of having a kitten, she didn't think about any of this. But when you were young like she was, you often didn't think before doing things like this. And definitely not if your name was Emilia Sofia Ventura.

"You look nice, Emmie. Really pretty." His voice rang in her mind, resulting in an immediate, giddy smile. Henri complimented her a lot; she loved that. It made her feel great about herself. Especially coming from a kid of Aphrodite; sure, Henri wasn't like the others, but she was the Goddess of Beauty. And he was Henri. She dropped his hand and turned around, a smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, Gattino!" She replied, the happiness evident in her voice. "You look...ravishing!" Emmie put a hand over her mouth and giggled carelessly. "Sorry, that's my word of the day! And I tend to use it as much as I can." She took up his hand again, grinning when she realized they were at the camp's entrance. "I've never really been out of camp without permission. This is...darn, ravishing doesn't work here." Emmie shrugged, smiling to herself. She tugged Henri's arm, pulling him through Camp Half-Blood's entrance. A thought slipped through her mind. What if he didn't like her holding his hand? That was something boyfriends and girlfriends did, after all. Well, it wasn't like she was snuggling up to his shoulder like girlfriends did to their boyfriends as they walked along the beach. Now, that was a really cliche scene. And definitely not what the two were doing; Emmie was just leading Henri towards New York City. Plus, in the city, it was easy to get lost. There was no way she was going to lose sight of Henri. She got scared when she was alone in big cities and large crowds.

Sooner or later, after a lot of walking (because she forgot money for a taxi, not like she saw one), Emmie found herself in a sidewalk in the big city. The city most people thought about when they thought of the United States. It was certainly the city she'd always dreamed of going to, back in Italy. Everyone there dreamed it. 'Oh, I'd just love to go to New York City some day!' 'I heard there's a whole boulevard dedicated to shopping!' and things like that were heard regularly. At least, they were in her school and around her friends. Emmie turned to Henri, grinning. "We're finally in New York City. Waaay too much walking. I want to sleep." Emmie told him. "Just kidding!" She added, giggling; there was no way she could think about sleeping at the moment. Sure, she thought about it a lot. But it was all for good reason. When you were a child of Hypnos, all you wanted to do was sleep. And you'd sleep anywhere; in your bed, the floor, grass, trees, couches, benches...Emmie herself had even fallen asleep on a playground once. Only to be stepped on by multiple children. Her fault for falling asleep in one of the most popular playgrounds in her Italian town. Emmie blinked. Wow, she sure thought a lot about sleeping. And she even rambled in her thoughts. It was worse than when she spoke.

Emmie started walking, only to pause, pursing her lips. She had no idea where she was going. Turning around, she glanced at Henri. Looking at him, she had a strange impulse to hug him again. He was just...hugable, y'know? Probably not. Anyways, she resisted that urge and spoke. "Um, where do you wanna look? We can look around in alleys, but there's probably mean cats and muggers there. And I would prefer not to me mugged of things I don't have. So we can stick to the sidewalks, go to Central Park, or very reluctantly alleys. So yeah. Your choice!" Emmie told him, smiling happily. She'd be happy anywhere...well, except dark alleys. Just thinking about them, and crime shows, scared her. But it was alright, Henri wouldn't pick that. He wasn't stupid. He might be a little...innocent, naive, or whatever, but he had some common sense, Emmie was sure of that.

Someone grumbling at her made Emmie realize they were completely blocking the sidewalk. Oops. She'd also forgotten a lot of people in New York weren't exactly...friendly. Especially not when they were on their way somewhere, which was probably why they were in New York anyways. Emmie gently grabbed Henri's hand and led him over to the side, out of the way of people moving along, and dropped his hands. "Sorry, if you couldn't tell, people were getting angry at us for standing in the middle of the sidewalk! Some people get upset over the smallest things, don't they. Whatever." Emmie let out a sigh, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Reaching up, Emmie tucked it behind her ear before turning her attention back to Henri.

YO, HENRI! THIS HAS 1011 WORDS. THE OUTFIT LOOKS LIKE THIS, AND THIS TEMPLATE IS MOSTLY BY PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION.
PS: :D

[Henri Klemmensen]

• • • • • • •[/color]

(

[/color]i'm scared of death and it shows)[/color]

I'D BLOW OUT THE FLAME BUT IT GLOWS
LOOK IN YOUR EYES THINGS I DON'T WANT TO KNOW
AND EVERYTHING COMES OUT THE WRONG WAY

[/color][/center]

Once upon a time, there was a small child stuck inside a teenagers body. Not in a full way, sure, the fact that he had a pretty extensive vocab accompanied by the fact that he was actually smarter than a small child and had some teenager like qualities to him. The sense of empowerment when rebelling against something (You know, as he was now. Not stressful to him at all. What are you talking about? Oh, never, believe me. For some reason, Henri felt entitled to the world after doing something that teenagers had simply been doing for hundreds of years. You know. But he still felt like he was doing something special. Just for the sake of his own actions and thoughts. No matter how many times it could be explained to him, if you denied him of being a shining star on the top of the Christmas tree, he'd probably just sit there with the most sad but awkward expression on his face. Sure, Henri wasn't really an attention whore, but if you told him he was special or he felt that way and you kicked him off his high horse, he probably wouldn't be very happy. Just for reasons. Could be the inherited Aphrodite trait, just watered down for it being Henri.) In short, he had attachment issues to compliments. Clingy. It was another word that could always echo through his head, always a word that people had used to describe him.

Clinging onto old memories, old ideas, old customs. Like, he wished he'd of lived in the days of the 1700's, when balls and different things were rather notorious. Everybody was decent, and he wanted that. He clung onto the things that had been and didn't really look into the future because the future was always portrayed in such a fashion that was gloomy and depressing. But according to his little step-sister's books when they were younger, the American Girl ones, things back them weren't so bad. No, he didn't read the books, but the movies had portrayed the whole past of things so much nicer and prettier and all that way back then. When people could just smile and go out on the street without worrying about being mugged and all that. Sure, he didn't really know the idea of being mugged, but he'd been told to avoid street corners when he'd been in Denver with his father and all that... But Denver was weird in the fact where everyone loved each other and Henri had gone there of what, four times, so it wasn't a big deal. His father was just overly paranoid about everything and had made sure that Henri took very careful steps around street corners and that he didn't leave his sight ever and if he did, he would haunt him down in his sleep and make Henri remember that times table frontwards and backwards. That was his fathers threat for nearly everything and somehow, it'd worked enough for Henri so he wouldn't step out of line from the ages of six to twelve.

"Thank you, Gattino!" The pet name that Henri had been given by Emmie was something that he rather liked. Sure, it took a while for him to figure out what that had even meant (It meant kitten in Italian, which was a rather fitting name because of the naivety that he exhibited. And then the naivety that was really straight up naivety and now was only partially, much to the arguments of Emmie to tell him not to look up the urbandictionary and Wikipedia articles.....) But it was something that was fitting still. Kitten also equaled their mutual love of the animal. And when he'd called her Sweetheart, something pulled out from a song, it all kind of made sense. Nicknames, pet names, whatever they were, worked. It was always something that Henri had wanted. His father called him "Henri Jonathan" on most occasions and he was known as "Henri" by his step-mother and step-sister, so he'd never really gotten anything that sounded anything like a pet name before. And it was something nice for him. Something that made him feel.... Happier than usual, he assumed. "You look...ravishing!" The words echoed out of the air and Henri looked at his shoes. Was that supposed to be a compliment? He pondered this and just nodded and smiled, listening to the explanation that she provided. Oh, okay. Word of the day. Seemed to make sense, he figured.

As they were approaching the end of the camp grounds, he looked at the sign that marked the exit of the camp. It was a huge thing for him to be like... rebelling. You know, rebelling was something he'd never really done before so it was obviously a big deal to him.... Pondering this for a second, he stood for a second before hearing Emmie say something "I've never really been out of camp without permission. This is...darn, ravishing doesn't work here." Henri smiled and laughed, nodding with a happiness to his expression. "Pfft, I haven't either. I'm feeling like one of those weird teenagers who in movies who always sneak out of their parents houses to go to parties. You know the kind of movies, where red solo cups were like the main priority of all those things? Yeah. I don't even know what they had in those cups, but it was pretty cool to be watching that as a ten year old. And if you wanted to, Ravishing could apply in it."

And then there was walking. And walking. Of course, Henri had forgotten to bring any form of money so he could find something, but no. He'd, of course, forgotten something in his haze of getting ready to get a cat that morning. And it wasn't a horrible thiing, walking wasn't horrid, especially when you had entertainment with talking. And it wasn't a huge or long walk. Just was a walk, and it took about two or so hours. But after some point in time, finally, they ended up within the city. And there was a sidewalk under their feet. "We're finally in New York City. Waaay too much walking. I want to sleep." Henri smiled. The whole thing was really too funny. And ironic. Of course she'd talk about sleeping. But by the end of the whole process thing of explanation, Henri smiled. "If you wanted to sleep, I guess it'd be fine if you'd of wanted to miss out on kitties....." He trailed off. "Um, where do you wanna look? We can look around in alleys, but there's probably mean cats and muggers there. And I would prefer not to me mugged of things I don't have. So we can stick to the sidewalks, go to Central Park, or very reluctantly alleys. So yeah. Your choice!" Henri nodded, probably thinking the same thing. Street corners in Denver were probably childs play compared to some things in the city..... "Yeah. Main sidewalks. I don't think we'd fare very well in the alleyways."

And then irritated people. New Yorkers had never been the nicest of people, and Henri had known that. From what he'd read or what his father had told him about his days going to east coast colleges and all that, he had been told that New Yorkers were basically the most impatient people in the world. And they wore black to mask their demons, apparently. They thought that everybody who was in Manhattan who wasn't carrying a Starbucks cup and a bagel, texting on a blackberry and wearing head-to-toe black was a tourist, and tourists were far from their favorite people. There had been millions of discussions about the truly atrocious behavior of the Manhattanites at the dinner table whenever his father was feeling particularly sentimental. "People are impatient idiots, Emmie. It's not your fault, you were simply being yourself. I do stupid things a lot, and get a lot more to deal with than a pair of flustered New Yorkers." He reached over to her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. A friendly one that said "It'll be fine."

[/blockquote][/justify]

• • • • • • •[/color]

W O R D S I don't even know.
W E A R I N G CLICK
N O T E S I don't even know. He's weird.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[Emilia Ventura]

& what lies lurk in kisses
FOR THAT FACE WHICH LAUNCHED A THOUSAND SHIPS
• • • • • • • • • • • •

"Pfft, I haven't either. I'm feeling like one of those weird teenagers who in movies who always sneak out of their parents houses to go to parties. You know the kind of movies, where red solo cups were like the main priority of all those things? Yeah. I don't even know what they had in those cups, but it was pretty cool to be watching that as a ten year old. And if you wanted to, Ravishing could apply in it."

Emmie grinned at Henri's...his naivety. At least that's the word she thought she was supposed to use. She got so confused about words, especially English words. She was Italian; she'd only known English for about...six years, she supposed. Definitely not enough time to known every word available. But that wasn't the point; she had been thinking about how Henri didn't know what was in that red solo cup. She knew the sort of movies he was talking about; she'd seen them even back in Italy. And even at a young age, even Emmie had known what was in those cups. "Henri, there was alcohol in those cups." She told him with a quiet giggle. Emmie enjoyed being around Henri; not only was he funny (though, not really intentionally), but she liked how he was still a kid in some ways. Emmie was a bit like that, but not to the extreme that her friend was. She probably laughed too much, didn't quite understand some things, and loved to play like a child. You know, jump rope, hop scotch, and just running around in general. A lot of teenagers hated physical activity, but Emmie was just like...'unleash the sun!' Which sounds really odd, but she'd said that before. Really. Emmie let out a breath. She wanted to get moving. She really hated sticking around in one spot for whatever reason. Maybe it was one of those Demi-God instincts, that people seemed to mistake for ADHD. Or did they actually have ADHD and just said it was an instinct? Or...this was really confusing Emmie. Maybe she'd ask someone about that later.

"Good idea!" Emmie grinned, not realizing she'd been the one to pretty much suggest avoiding alleys. She actually did that a lot. Say something, start talking about something else, then completely forget what she'd said before. It tended to confuse people (especially herself, if people asked her about it), but there wasn't anything she could do about it. It wasn't that Emmie was forgetful, she just...got distracted easily. A butterfly could probably make her forget what she'd been doing.

"People are impatient idiots, Emmie. It's not your fault, you were simply being yourself. I do stupid things a lot, and get a lot more to deal with than a pair of flustered New Yorkers."

Well Henri sure liked to talk in sentences. Emmie liked things short and simple, but she still talked a lot. Just...about different things. Anyway, Emmie glanced down at the hand Henri had squeezed. She then looked up at him and smiled. He was really good with making people, or maybe just Emmie, feel better, wasn't he? Not knowing what else to say, Emmie responded with a simple "Thank you..." Then her attitude changed, and she was back to her normal giddy self. "Well, let's get going! I want to find us some kittens!" Emmie exclaimed, grinning. She kept hold of Henri's hand and began walking down the street. She wasn't really sure what to look for, though. So she turned back to him, an unsure expression on her face. "Um...I don't know where to look. Do you?" She asked, biting her lip.

YO, HENRI! THIS HAS ENOUGH WORDS. THE OUTFIT LOOKS LIKE THIS, AND THIS TEMPLATE IS MOSTLY BY PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION.
PS: UHM, IT'S A LITTLE SHORT. SORRY! D:

[Henri Klemmensen]

• • • • • • •[/color]

(

[/color]now to keep my fingers from making mistakes)[/color]

TO TELL MY VOICE TO SPEAK UP SPEAK UP
AND KEEP MY CONSCIENCE CLEAN, I WANT TO THINK
YOU'RE DRESSED TO KILL, I'M CALLING YOU OUT

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"Henri, there was alcohol in those cups." Which made Henri think for a second. Oh.... It kind of made sense. The words echoed in his head for a second before he nodded twice, looking at his feet a little bit embarrassed. He should have known. Sure, it wasn't like his parents hadn't had alcoholic beverages in the house or anything. His step-mother was known for lounging on the couch with a glass of red wine after a long day of watching two children who seemed to get into antics more than not. So the last hour of the day had been reserved by her as the hour when her children were supposed to be quietly reading in their rooms while she watched whatever horrible soap operas she could get on the television, and she'd have her glass of wine, wash out the glass and then put it back with the other ones in the liquor cabinet that had no liquor minus the exception of those bottles of wine. Henri's father really wasn't a drinker, probably because of his job being overly stressful and him just being an overly stressed person himself. He would finish work, eat something and then promptly go to sleep most of the time. Of course, there were exceptions and all that, but more often than not, it was a simple routine that the whole family seemed to follow. You know, the reclusive behavior of the Klemmensen family. It was rare for them to ever leave the few acres of property that they owned in those mountains in Arriba, Colorado. Sure, grocheries like bread and so forth were bought every week or so, but outside of that, rarely did anybody leave the property. His father was a research developer, Henri and Tessa were homeschooled and his step-mother was the type of person who'd rather not leave the property to work, and instead stayed home and worked from there for some company whenever she'd have time. Doing like... customer support for computers or something. The whole childhood thing for Henri wasn't the stereotypical "Play until the sun set and the street lights came on." It was more "Come inside at six because you need to do this for us." So by association of not leaving the small world that his family had built up around him, and if he did, it was very rare, he was pretty much unaware to anything outside the comprehension of that glass of wine his mother had downed nightly. "Well, now I know. That." He nodded and exchanged a look with the ground of "Well. I'm stupid, aren't I?"

It was a sad moment when he realized that he was being pretty irritational with all of his little behaviors. He should've just said nothing about the red cups or whatever, because now he was freaking out a little bit about how he could say something that sounded so dumb and... He sighed and looked around awkwardly before finally settling on looking at his shoes before hearing Emmie say something else, which made him look up from the strange shoes that he had on his feet and made him feel less bad because she could be used to his naivety. Or something. "Good idea! He smiled, but at the same time, he knew that she'd been the one who'd made the suggestion.... No matter, it wasn't a big deal about who really had made the suggestion to avoid alleyways and stay on main lines of pathways and sidewalks and all that. It was decent common sense. Sure, Henri didn't have a lot of it, because honestly, think about it. He'd grown up in Arriba, Colorado. You didn't need much common sense to navigate around a gas station and a post office. Everything required much less thought and common sense and made the whole ordeal of what he called life simpler. But no. Not in New York. While it was a pretty town with an assortment of different buildings, it was still the type of place that was confusing. The roads were straight, yes, but the neighborhoods came and went like flies and cream. It was confusing and he wasn't quite sure where he was going. But if you followed the street signs... "Well, let's get going! I want to find us some kittens!" He nodded at Emmie's comment, pondering it for a second before finally just looking at the crowded street. Which finally seemed to make more sense than it had previously. "Yep, kittens are very much needed at this point."

But then it occurred that neither of them knew where to look. When they finally were in the park, at least. The grass was green and it sprawled on, with people all around, crowding like animals and all that. He stood for a second amongst the people and finally just smiled "Look for cardboard boxes."

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W O R D S 900ish
W E A R I N G CLICK
N O T E S I don't even know. He's weird.

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[Emilia Ventura]

& what lies lurk in kisses
FOR THAT FACE WHICH LAUNCHED A THOUSAND SHIPS
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"Well, now I know. That." Emmie gave him a weak smile. Somehow, she felt as though she had offended him. Made him upset, maybe. All she knew is that was not a happy 'now I know'; it was something else. What did she do? Let's see, Henri had said something about cups, then she said there had been alcohol in them. Then he'd said those not-so-happy words. Maybe she shouldn't have told him that, then. Emmie bit her lip. "Did I, uh, make you upset?" She asked him, her eyes wide, a slight frown across her face. And then he said kittens. Which practically lit up a light bulb in her head, again. Or perhaps an alarm. An alarm that said Find a kitten. Now. Which was probably pretty crazy, but you didn't know how much Emmie craved an adorable ball of fur, and how much she loved them. She smiled, while nodding, and tightened her grip on Henri's hand ever-so-slightly. Not enough for it to be suffocating, perhaps just making sure he knew she was there.

Emmie had never had a pet before. Her mother had loathed anything in the house, besides Emmie of course, that needed to be fed. She hadn't wanted to use up the money she used to buy clothes and other accessories. Her mother loved to spend money, but in little amounts. She lived for items that were on sale, and of course, cats were never on sale, and neither were their food. So Emmie had lived her life without an adorable kitten. How unfortunate. Even her friend, who was allergic to cats, had the cutest grey and white kitten. Emmie had pretty much adopted it by the time she'd left Italy. You could only imagine how heartbroken she had been when Emmie wasn't allowed to take the kitten with her. (It wasn't hers, remember? She couldn't just take the kitten with her. For one, her mother hated pets, and second, she wasn't going to ask her friend to have it.) And even though Emmie had begged and very nearly cried to her mother about getting a cat, she'd said no. Which is probably why she was so quick to leave camp with Henri to find one, right? Even though she didn't really live with her mother anymore...whatever.

Emmie raised an eyebrow. Look for cardboard boxes? "But...hobos live in cardboard boxes, don't they?" She asked, giggling slightly--she did that a lot, didn't she? Well, it was true. Didn't hobos, or homeless people, live in cardboard boxes? A lot of them did in movies. Sometimes they even slept in dumpsters. Well, if she thought about it, she supposed they could find kittens in a cardboard box. Maybe someone brought a bunch of kittens to the park and put them in a cardboard box that said FREE KITTENS. Which made her wonder, what sort of disturbed person would just dump kittens in a park?

Looking around, Emmie realized just how pretty the park was. She'd only been here once or twice, and that was years ago. Grinning, Emmie let go of Henri's hand and began to walk backwards, in front of him. "Gods, it's so pretty here!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically.

YO, HENRI! THIS HAS ENOUGH WORDS. THE OUTFIT LOOKS LIKE THIS, AND THIS TEMPLATE IS MOSTLY BY PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION.
PS: UHM, IT'S A LITTLE SHORT. AND WEIRD. SORRY! D: