Post by Hallie Andersson on Feb 2, 2012 9:59:38 GMT -5
To be honest, Hallie was never a morning person. Mornings were typically slow-moving and nostalgic, slightly cooler than the rest of the day, and painted with girly pastel colors that, as the night wore off, turned into a color much like the sink in a middle school art classroom. A melting pot of various hues that ended up looking utterly revolting.
Well, just today. Perhaps the sixteen-year-old was overreacting a tad as she leaned against the walls of her cabin, critical ocher eyes scrutinizing the scene. Not a ray of sunshine, a fact she wasn’t particularly upset about, nor a hint of a coming storm. Just a swirled mess of powder blues and baby pinks and lavender. Colors that came to mind when you thought of newborn babies snuggled up in their safe little cribs. Colors that should not be in the sky, according to Hallie.
Hallie pulled her legs forward, till her black flats supported the weight of her legs completely, knees bent at an angle, elbows balancing on her kneecaps and arms dangling off. Her posture was surprisingly carefree, as most of the daytime she was chewing on her lip impatiently, waiting for the vivid warm colors of sunset to appear and the stars to come out.
But it was a bit far in the day for the beloved beads of light that Hallie scanned over to make sure she didn’t die every night to be soon unveiled. So, until then, most people saw her perched here, watching the sky, muttering to herself and humming softly. And also usually, staring at a blank piece of paper on a notebook.
It was true Hallie liked to draw. But she never had a clue in her clever little mind about what to draw. Once she drew what looked like an evil enchantress named Ink with huge, midnight blue skirts that seemed to drip and smear over the ground the woman stood on. Casually the teenager flipped to that page, tapping her fingers on the smooth surface and smudging the dark pencil lines just a little.
Slowly Hallie prodded the drawing with the tip of her thumb. After a moment of tenderly stroking the sketch, before savagely ripping her bright yellow fingernails across the page, crumpling up the whole thing and throwing it off the cabin steps. “Good riddance.” She mumbled, turning to the first blank page she saw.
But she didn’t draw. She dragged the tip of the pencil in a harsh, jagged segment, slammed the sketchbook shut and looked down at the floor below her impassively. “It’s getting late.” She muttered to no-one in particular, biting the nail on her pinkie but coming to no avail. It was already chewed down the quick, so she gave up on biting her nails as abruptly as she had begun.
Hallie dug her heels into the ground and rose to her feet, dusting the slight layer of dust off her leggings printed with the cosmos. Today her long scarlet tresses hung at their natural length- some inches past her shoulders and stuck with a tousled appearance, however long Hallie tried to brush the waves out. At last she had settled with tucking a thick black headband into her hair, thus her current style. Strangely she’d woken up at around five in the morning, and had been sitting outside for most of the time since, only going inside to refill her guinea pig Oswald’s water bottle.
The steps creaked loudly from below her feet, the wood straining against any kind of weight at that time. She was almost certain they would collapse sometime soon, but they seemed to be holding up well.
Sort of.
Hallie swung her arms back and forth, letting herself slip into a half-hearted twirl completely around, bobbing her head slightly to a song she had heard one of the Hermes kids blast through their headphones so that it drifted all the way over to the red-haired girl all the way across the cabin. It had a strong, clapping beat and a softly strumming guitar. The woman singing was a deep, soulful alto capable of leaping multiple octaves with one breath. The moment the smooth purr of her vocal cords reached Hallie’s ears, she was filled with admiration for the lady. How could anyone possibly be brave enough to sing as wonderfully as her? With no concern at what some people with little taste in music say?
Simply marvelous, in Hallie’s mind. When she had been in chorus in seventh grade, she had been so petrified of sounding horrible that she ended up standing alone and rarely singing to her full potential. She doubted she had sang in front of anyone since then, only when her teacher made her. Which made her cheeks burn a red nearly as vibrant as her hair.
Hallie reached the creek in good time, smiling as the sound of water bubbling over smoothed pebbles, dropping to her knees and gingerly touching the icy water. She flinched, but then giggled at the prickly feeling of the frigid liquid sliding over her fingers. Minnows slithered around her hands, nibbling at her painted nails. Cautiously Hallie reached out, capturing one gently between her fingers and cupping her hands so it floated in the small amount of water she had also trapped.
The scales on it’s little body flashed silver as is squirmed about, shoving it’s head into a minute space between her two palms and diving back in the water. She didn’t bother trying to capture it back; she simply reverted to watching and marveling at the small creatures.
[/center]tagged;; no one in particular
[/i] words;; 931
outfit;; click
notes;; ishh muse
credits;; mini and only mini. take dis out and i will cut yoo. lyrics from sister rosetta by noisettes
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