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Post by zach on Feb 10, 2008 20:27:54 GMT -5
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Post by jay on Feb 11, 2008 2:32:36 GMT -5
Do you even care if I die bleeding
Would it be wrong
Would it be right
If I took my life tonight
Chances are that I might
Mutilation outta sight
And I'm contemplating suicide[/i]
After a pretty rough week, and stitches in his leg, Jay was in an even worse mood than usual. The doctors had forbidden him to ride his bike, but he ignored them and was just glad it hadn’t been turned to scrap metal. As soon as he’d been discharged from casualty, he bought himself a new helmet and took his gleaming black baby for a ride. Cruising down the street (a rarity, for Jay was a bit of a speed demon) he slowed and came to a gentle stop outside the skate park. There was one other person there, and Jay could just about live with that. Dismounting, and clipping his helmet to the handle bars. Taking off his gloves and getting out his box of cigarettes, he walked into the park and sat down at one of the benches.
Watching the boy skate back and forth in a rhythmic way was strangely relaxing, and the cigarette added to the calm. He dragged on it heavily, and his mouth hung open slightly, silvery smoke curling from his mouth like fog over hills. Jay squinted at the skater, sure he’d seen him somewhere before. Somewhere in Watson…Yes, it was definitely someone from his year. But who? Curiosity aroused, he stood up and walked casually(trying to hide the limp from the stitches in his leg) towards the half pipe with a hand in his pocket. He’d left his jacket on the bench, and as usual his skin tight, sleeveless t-shirt showed off his many tattoos. Even the t-shirt was patterned with similar designs. This is what had earned him the nickname ‘Canvas’, which he’d readily adopted. It was better than ‘That scary psycho bloke that beat me up last week’ or ‘The weird guy on the motorbike’. Dragging on his cigarette for the last time, he flicked it onto the withered, unkempt grass that surrounded the skate park, and fiddled with the chain hanging from his belt loop.
“Hey, kid. What’s your name? You’re from Watson, right?” even Jay’s voice was intimidating, with a bit of a Californian drawl, and a rough edge like he had a sore throat. He clenched his fist around the chain, feeling the cool metal bite into his palm. It wasn’t in his nature to beat up people for no reason. He wanted to very badly right now, you could see the pent up anger in his face, but he scolded himself fiercely and resisted. It’d feel so good to have that power over someone right now, just to have him begging for mercy. Just like Jay wanted to. If he couldn’t have mercy, he’d just make someone else ask for it. No…won’t solve anything…I want to wipe that stupid emo pout right off his pretty boy face…God damnit! Just walk away…No…Can’t… he fought with himself uselessly, and glared at the boy’s skate board. Customized, of course.
[/blockquote] ‘cause I'm losing my sight
Losing my mind
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
Losing my sight
Losing my mind
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
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Post by zach on Feb 11, 2008 21:17:27 GMT -5
[/i] He replied, placing his board across his shoulders and holding the trunks with his hands. "and Yes.. I go to Watson" He added onto his former statement, approaching the guy "And you are?" He asked absentmindedly. The male looked intimidating, as if he were some sort of serial killer ready to take off Nate's head. Wonderful, just who he needed to be associating with.[/size][/ul] |
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Post by jay on Feb 12, 2008 2:25:37 GMT -5
Do you even care if I die bleeding
Would it be wrong
Would it be right
If I took my life tonight
Chances are that I might
Mutilation outta sight
And I'm contemplating suicide[/i]
Jay watched the boy’s motion, and was secretly impressed. He hadn’t known you could slide down the pipes on your butt.
“Jay Farr. The kids at Watson call me Canvas,” he grinned lopsidedly, and got out another cigarette, lighting it with lazily practiced ease and drawing on it lightly. The smoke trailed up into the still air, untouched by wind. He clenched his fist again, and his eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. Suddenly feeling that someone was watching, he turned to see if there was anyone there in a nonchalant way, before turning back to Nate.
“Well, Nate…” he faltered, unable to think of anything menacing enough to say. Instead, he flicked the cigarette away, and cracked his knuckles, a nasty grin on his face. His dark eyes hardened, and he was standing right next to Nate, fist pulled back for a punch,
“Smile for the camera,” he growled, and threw the punch at him, hard as he could.
[/blockquote] ‘cause I'm losing my sight
Losing my mind
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
Losing my sight
Losing my mind
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
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Post by zach on Feb 12, 2008 20:24:01 GMT -5
[/i] Nathaniel repeated the nickname once. That was all he needed, to say it once and it would be stuck in his mind. His green eyes followed Jay's hands as they reached for a cigarette which he lit in a rather lazy way. Nathaniel watched as he took a drag, letting the smoke dance up into the still air. It was then that he noticed Jay glance over his shoulder. This movement alone made Nate slightly fidgety. He glanced in the direction which Jay was looking, only turnign back once Jay spoke "Cam--" His words were cut off as Jay shoved his fist against Nate's face. The eighteen year old stumbled back and landed on the ground, completely shocked and stunned. He lifted his hand to his upper lip, which was covered in blood. Blood running from his nose. "What the HELL, dude?" Nate yelled, slowly pushing himself up off the ground "What the fuck is your problem?"[/size][/ul] |
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Post by Ryuu James on Feb 15, 2008 2:30:02 GMT -5
-// ‘cause I'm losing my sight, Losing my mind \\-
[/i]
His lips curled into a thin smile, Nate was mad, he could see it in his eyes. The blood staining his nose and lips was flowing sickeningly, but Jay didn’t even bat an eyelid. He stepped forwards just as Nate pulled himself up, and grabbed him by the collar, holding his fist up for another punch.
“You don’t mess with Canvas, alright? Remember that before you get on the wrong side of me,” he smirked, and pushed him away again, turning to go back to his bike. He felt kind of bad now, he’d not done anything yet but he guessed it was worth warning him.
Reaching his motorcycle, he pulled on his gloves, and stared at the tattoos on his knuckles. LOVE and HATE. He wished he could love a bit more, but it seemed it always got blown up in his face. Getting on to the bike and clipping on his helmet and kick-starting the engine. The machine roared into angry life, and he revved it up dangerously, letting it rip out of it’s parking space and shriek down the road, swerving to avoid a pedestrian.
[/blockquote]
-// Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine, Losing my sight, Losing my mind \\-
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