The park at Horseshoe Bend was nice. Neat, well-manicured, with well-trimmed rose bushes, and perfectly sized oak trees sat amongst bright green grass, lined by sidewalks with mulched flower beds on either side. Those sidewalks, smooth and grey, with small dents and grooves in it. All one shade of grey. Except beside the only bench that wasn't empty. It had a leather satchel on it, which was open, with a box halfway out of it. The lid was off, and all it had in it were a few pieces of chalk, the forty-five other pieces on the concrete below the bench. A girl was crouched beside it, chalk dust in the air around her. She sat up, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, and picking up a coffee cup on the bench, taking a sip. She wore black parachute-style pants, a white tank top, and a thick red scarf. It was thick over her chest, which was strange as the bits that fluttered in the wind were thin and light. Her gold hair sat in a braid, curled into a bun on the back of her neck. Her eyes were light blue, and her lips full, rosy pink. Her skin was creamy gold, and flushed along her strong cheekbones. She bent over again, still on her knees, and continued drawing with her chalks. She put the chalk pieces back, in monochromatic order, into the box, put on the lid and slid it into her bag. She clapped her hands together, wiping off the chalk, and stood, stretching her shoulders, back and arms. At her feet was an artwork so realistic, you could jump into it. It covered the whole sidewalk, and looked as if the sidewalk was broken, with about ten feet of it missing. It looked as if the missing sidewalk showed what seemed underneath the ground. It was a vast overgrown jungle, with a river that snaked into the aerial view, and cascaded down, as a waterfall, into a deep blue lagoon. She smiled down at her work, then buckled shut her leather bag, swinging it onto her shoulder, picking up her coffee and putting on some simple black ballet flats, walking onto the grass and sitting, leaning on an oak tree trunk, pulling out her book and reading.

   Nearby, a few dozen yards from the edge of the girl's artwork, the sidewalk made a sharp turn. Next to the corner was a delapidated bench. It looked, and was, very old. But not too much to not hold a person quite sturdily. At some point some odd person had decided to spray paint it an dark almost navy blue. It was the only part of the park that escaped the extravagent care everything else seemed to get. Amos sat at one end, quietly tuning his guitar. His eyes were hidden carefuly behind sunglasses that were blacker than the darkest of nights. His black hair was styled in some pointy spikes today. One of the few things he really enjoyed was mixing it up with the hair styles. The tips of the spikes were a bright electrical blue. His black jeans were taken good care of and not a thread of the black material was out of it's intended place. His shirt today was a long sleeve he cut the sleeves off of and he wore a black leather jacket that had obviously goten some serious use. His shoes were the most beat up. But it was doubtful anyone would care. He apeared gothic to some, but that was one thing Amos decided he most definatly was not. No freeking way. He just looked pretty dang good in black. No reflection on what he shouldnbe classified as. Anywho he hated steriotypes. He had an aura around him of "My pleasure to kick you ass into next week". Anyone could tell he didn't take any crap. But he was really sort of nice. Sort of. He came as close as he ever did to smiling as he finaly got the acustic guitar in almost perfect tune. He bit his lip and started to play his favorite song. After a while of just the cords Amos decided to actualy sing the lyrics. His normal speaking voice was sort of deep but in a soft, yet strong and powerful way. But he could hit nearly any note when singing. With good pitch and a almost half smirk of contentment Amos sang "I Just Wanna Run". His own personaly favorite song. Finaly he returned the intricatly decorated guitar to it's case and leaned back. He was rather tall and his head was too far above the back of the bench to lean on it. Amos glanced around and studied the girls chalkwork nearby. It was pretty amazing. Too bad he was such a bad artist. He sighed, wondering if he could talk to anyone here. Probably not. Not about what his mind so often reterned to. Hm, too bad.         

(You don't mind if I posts right Rockeh? )

(Be my guest to de honest, I kinda forgot this topic was here, it is quite crappy )

She had stopped reading, tilting her head back against the tree trunk, eyes closed, and listening to the song. When he stopped her eyes flickered open again, as she once again pulled off her shoes. She glanced around, and caught sight of the guy's shoulders and up, above the rose bushes. She blinked, surprised. She thought the park was empty. She looked back down at her book, mottled with sunlight, but couldn't stop softly humming that song. Great, she'd be singing that all day now. A breeze shifted her scarf, revealing a shimmer of gold, but she adjusted the red fabric quickly, checking no one was looking. Well, the only one in the park was wearing sunglasses. She double-checked her scarf's positioning, and then sighed, eyes absent-mindedly scanning the words on the pages of the old book.

He gave a slight sigh as he considered whether or not to move. He liked his spot, a lot. But often it was plain uncomfertable. Ah, he might as well. Amos growled in a cranky way as he rose and streched. At his full height he was so much more than intimidating. He apeared to glance at his suroundings, but it was hard to tell with the glasses. He picked up his guitar, the only thing he liked in what was called his life, and moved to a gigantic oak a hundered yards or so from the girl reading. Humph. Why read? He wondered, there were plenty of more active ways to spend the day. But that wasn't a concern of his anymore. He had lost too much of himself. It would be hipocritical to judge now. After all his pastimes were far less productive. Amos chewed at his lip as he sat the guitar down with more care than he gave to most things. The things he did took part of his soul. Destroyed him from the inside. It was only eighths help of someone he made pains to forget that he hadn't gong under a long time ago. He sat in the grass and got comfortable then lay down with an actual sigh of contentment. Now that was rare. He felt good right now. Almost normal as he had when he was young. And that was far more than a while ago. He considered making conversation with anyone nearby but decided against it. Amos was the least sociable person you would ever meet. Well, at least ninety percent of the time. His powers did that to him. But he cared none the less. This was a good day so far. If he wasn't too comfortable to more he might play another song. The one thing he wanted was peace, please let nothing important die here. Now there was a nightmare that could scare him.

Rayne put her book down softly on the grass, tracing a finger down its weathered, unlabeled spine. She opened her leather bag, pulling out a small, flat tin and a thick sketchpad, opening it and leafing through watercolors of sunsets and forests, from a seemingly magical place. Nowhere in this world. She flipped the book over the spine so the next fresh page was showing. She opened the tin, selecting a pale teal pencil and beginning to shade in certain areas, glancing around the park and then closing her eyes briefly. There are some places where two dimensions come so close they nearly touch, and in these places the scene is very similar. She opened her deep blue eyes yet again and continued shading, swapping the teal for black brown, rich greens, and a few bright reds and salmons.

Amos watched her with his head slightly tilted. He fiddled with his sunglasses to make sure they were tightly over his eyes. Forget antisocial, he was gonna chat it up with SOMEONE! Amos got bored too and he wanted to entertain himself. He ran his toung over his teeth, mindful of the sharp canines. He hated himself some days. But for once his morning had started perfectly. He hadn't used his powers in weeks and that meant he felt more whole than usual. Hie eyes would have glittered with amusement if they were visable right then. He couldn't help himself. He dissapeared in a blink and reapeared in a electri blue puff of smoke next to the girl. He glanced at her artwork and almost cought himself smiling. She was perceptive of dementions around her. He didn't get visit such places much, only once. But he knew they were more real than most would realize. He crossed his legs, sitting just far away enough from her that even with his lengthy arms he couldn't touch her. He wasn't in that great a mood,"You're a good artist. Nice work." he said simply. Talking was not his forte. But a complement from Amos was pretty special.

(Hahahahahaa necromancer )

She glanced up, caught off-guard. "Oh, thanks. Yeah, I've had... A lot of practice." She bit her lip slightly at the thought of how she used to live. She blinked again, coming back to reality. "I'm Rap-... Rayne." She said, stuttering but covering it with a cough. Damn, she sucked at remembering her own name.

( haha was gonna edit his carrie sheet cause he is like a half breed, part necromancer, but he has full powers, and part demon. He is AWESOME xP)



Meh... that suuucked...

She laughed slightly. "It's fine. I've been by myself long enough to last a lifetime or two." She pulled out a few brushes, one extremely fine, one fine, and one average. She also pulled out an oldschool ink well full of water. "Company's fine, regardless of who it is." She thought of all her neighbors as she shaded with the pencils, vaguely drawing a red bird.

(FAIL)

( have a actual comp to use nowz xD soz I can make it colorful! yayz! )

She watched the bird, and smiled. She looked at his guitar, eyes still bright. She uncapped the inkwell of water and used the fine brush to blend the bright lead into water-color paint. "So do you only play guitar?" She asked, absent-mindedly blending the greens.

(ugh)

She smiled. "Impressive." She continued painting, eyes flicking shut for brief moments.

(Chai tea has put me half to sleep I'm so sorry for the fail.it doesn't help that its like the middle of the night and I'm deeaadd )

( x3 It okay Rockeh, I'm a surplus of failure )



He watched the park around him in a bord way. Such a lack of things to do. Lack of excitment ruined his mood. He sighed and pulled an exta guitar string from his pocket and worked on replacing one that had broken. Amos was not used to slow, easy days. On one hand it felt good to relax, but on another he was twice as tence as usual.


(Also, a fail... I have little muse sadness! We need excitment to spice this up.... I CAN'T THINK!)

(We can just use up all our failure on this topic )

Rayne sighed, leaning back. "No offense towards you, but this is soo boring. Even paintings can help that. I'm all artsied out." She put down her brush, glancing at his moving hands as he restrung the guitar.

(bwahahahaahah! mkay x3)


Amos glanced at her, brows raised. He finished restringing his instrument and set it aside, "Oh, so I take it you have a sugestion?" He mused. He sighed and looked at the empty park. Yeah, this was rather boring. Amos finaly reached up and took of the glasses, needing something, even a small act, to do. His eyes almost glowed in the sun, bright electrical blue swirling along with charcole black. He muttered under his breath, geting more annoyed by bordum by the second.


( O.o failure... YAY! :3 )

She shrugged. "Honestly, I don't. I mean we could go to the beach and go cliff diving, but I'm not sure if that's your kind of thing." She mused, watching him.

He nodded, thoughtful. There wasn't really a 'your kind of thing' for him. Amos was chalk full of variety. Why not? "Eh, sure. I really have nothing else to do at the moment. I may as well go." He said.

"Alright then." She grinned, placing her things into her bag, and swinging it onto her shoulder as she stood up. A flicker of uncertainty passed across her face for a moment, but quickly disappeared. "My car's parked on the street."

He nodded, standing up and streching his muscles. He replaced the glasses. He saw the uncertain look but ignored it. Not like she had anything to worry about. Not when Amos was feeling happy today. Of course he had other ways of getting around, but a car was fine. Though he prefered the services of his own favorite friend. "Hm, a'ight lets go." He said. Yes, he would prefer Erskine. Ah well.

She led the way to the street brightly, stepping barefoot over the chalk art. She stopped by a parking meter, and opened her bag, reaching for her key. Parked was a white, completely restored 1969 Ford Mustang boss 302, with a light blue stripe, about 5 inches wide, that ran across the bonnet, and across the back. "This is my baby." She grinned. "I fixed her up, now she runs great most of the time."

((AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! [the scream would be longer but I have self restraint lolz] ROCKEH! I hadz a moment of plottyness! O.O X3 heheeheee! We should kill Amos. But no woriez cause I have plan! :3 I'm excitedness [PM for further details ]))


Amos grined when he saw the car. Niiice. He looked it over, still smiling. He did like cars. Sometimes, and now was one of them times. "Sweetness." He murmered.


(( I lost meh muse! WHERE DID IT GO!!!???))

(Oh noes! I think I might reveal whom rayne is soon. Maybe before you kill your necro. Muahahahaha)

Rayne unlocked the passenger door, and then went over to the other side, opening her door and ducking into the drivers seat. She turned the key and after a second off wheezing the engine caught and purred to life. She dropped her bag on the back seat.

(( oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh :3 hurryness afore i haz hear atack! I must murder him, then maybe I shall have him revived... but yeeeesssssss hehehehehe))




Amos gzed at the car a second before geting in. He liked it pretty well. Even if he was a music person most days, he did like cars.


(im thinking maybe paranormal hunters like in my fav book series will find and kill him. Then we bring in meh new fav))

(Fun)

She pulled out and pulled onto the road, cruising as she unlooped her scarf. "Don't even comment." She said, revealing thick loops of golden braids around her neck, which she let unwind into her lap. Yup, its her hair. When the car left the town mainstreet she sped off towards the beaches, the car growling and roaring beautifully.