Now You Wanna Pretend You A Superstar [open]

Skylar Brown
*LEVEL FOUR

SENIOR
mal's minion

The smile when you tore me apart

Posts: 137

Now You Wanna Pretend You A Superstar [open] Dec 22, 2011 15:48:42 GMT -6

Post by Skylar Brown on Dec 22, 2011 15:48:42 GMT -6

There were times -meaning all the time- that Skylar Brown lived up to reputation at B.A.D. Tackling Anthony Price down the front steps after he breathed wrong around her made her seem like she acted before she thought. Breaking some girls nose and dangling her over the railing of the second floor steps like she was a rag doll while chuckling made her seem like a psycho. And putting a guy in a wheelchair probably proved that she was the quick-tempered, cruel, bitchy psychopath everyone made her out to be. There were times that Skylar acted exactly how everyone wanted and expected her to act.

Then there were times where Skylar couldn't bring herself to give enough of a shit to fight with anyone. There was this sense of calm around the level four, and when she looked at people, she didn't look at them with her normal narrowed eyes, it was this bored look that pretty much said "not only are you stupid, but you smell bad too." These times were rare, and never lasted long. Not even twenty-four hours, two at the most. Unless around Liam and he was trying really hard to make her laugh, these times were the closest you'd ever get to seeing Skylar happy.

As the red-head sat on the ground under a tree in the side yard, a notebook rested on her knee as she did some homework that probably wasn't due for another week, she was in one of those moods, calmly doing her homework without looking up from it. Well, that was until someone stood in her light. Her slowly raised her head, looking up at him. "... Move."

Last Edit: Jan 7, 2012 15:57:09 GMT -6 by Skylar Brown

All the shadows that I walk in are just my volatile second skin.

Mal

simonsmith
Guest

Now You Wanna Pretend You A Superstar [open] Jan 3, 2012 20:28:21 GMT -6

Post by simonsmith on Jan 3, 2012 20:28:21 GMT -6

Simon walked out of the school grounds, his eyes blank and his face set in an impassive mask. He always felt like himself, his true self, after his therapy sessions. There was something about knowing he could reveal anything, any of his darkest thoughts, and that the woman across from him couldn’t say a damn thing to anyone about it, that warmed his cold heart and almost brought a real smile to his lips. Not when he wasn’t making it seem as though he had any ill intent to anyone else. All she could do was listen, horrified. There was no cure for what the shrinks called his ‘condition’, no drugs they could administer. He was who he was, and there was nothing that was going to change that. As an added bonus, he got a kick out of telling her things that weren’t true, little fabrications about things that he saw or heard or thought. Simon was smarter than her, for all her degrees and education, he could think circles around the doctor, and was slowly planting the seeds in her head that he was perhaps, not as everyone initially suspected, someone who was a raging sociopath, but instead someone who suffered from psychosis, schizophrenia and the like. Really there was no point to it all, only that it amused him, and frankly, anything that amused Simon was a good thing. He’d left his session fairly sure that it was only a matter of time before she had him prescribed some kind of anti hallucinogenic drug treatment, and as an extra cherry on the cake, he could find some student, as there were so many who needed, craved, any type of narcotic, that he could supply. He wouldn’t ask for money, no, of course not. That would be far too simple, wouldn’t it? Not nearly elegant enough for him. Besides, money meant nothing to Simon. No, he would trade for power over them. As his games with his psychiatrist would prove, Simon’s greatest amusements came from manipulating other people, controlling them.

He walked out to his favourite spot amongst the trees, one where he was often found, sitting alone. When he no longer felt like wearing that mask, the one that he let everyone see all the time, he would come out here and just be. A slight frown crossed his mouth, someone was already there. He felt a small surge of annoyance, which to the normally emotionless boy was a fairly strong reaction. The girl was familiar. She’d been at the school for awhile, though Simon found her boring. Her rages, her characteristic flip outs that often resulted in other students being injured were hardly exciting or interesting for him. So he rarely gave her much thought, though his mind was like a steel trap, he could remember the few things he had gleaned about the red head. Name: Skylar Brown, Level: Four, and a slew of other facts that much like everything else about the girl, he found utterly unremarkable.

Undeterred by her presence, he continued on his path. While it was hardly ideal, he would make due with having to share his solitary position with another person, providing she didn’t bother him in the least. Simon didn’t react when she looked up at him, telling him to leave. He also didn’t bother with the mask, the façade he wore in front of most of the world. No, he left his face blank, his eyes dark blue pits that were as cold and uncaring as ice. The girl, he was sure, was used to getting a reaction, her reputation, her hostility, it was enough to make more people terrified. But Simon wasn’t most people. Really, though he looked like a human, he was often convinced that he wasn’t, that there was some essential spark that was missing in him. He didn’t feel fear, not the way most people did, and all this girl’s predictable reaction did was serve to emphasize his belief that she was a boring specimen. He blinked slowly, not saying anything, not really changing his expression before taking a few more steps and sitting down against the tree he usually claimed when he came to the small grove, his attention already off the snarky girl a few feet away.[/size]