Post by frizz on May 8, 2010 6:47:48 GMT -5
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rAINDROPS pelted the ground, the buildings, Frizz... anything out in the open as the slight boy executed a mad dash for the library across the street. He was disappointed with himself for not counting on the weather. It was May, after all, and one of the rainiest months of the year. And, given the colony's location amidst at least three of the seven Great Lakes, it should not come as a surprise that spring existed under a near constant battering of thunderstorms. Oh well. Feeling disappointed at and sorry for himself wasn't going to change the fact that it was raining, was it? At least he had dressed down today. Frizz had a reputation throughout the colony for being "that squeaky-clean boy in clothing from another century". Sure, it was a mouthful, but when breeders were bored and had nothing better to do during the day, they poked fun at each other, no matter how long their insults or pet names might be. For the most part, their words were true. Fashion in its entirety continued to evolve and change even after the human race's enslavement, as the monsters who accounted for feeding, clothing, and providing shelter for their subjects were (to a degree) human themselves. The problem was Frizz's tastes did not evolve with it. He believed that people should always dress smartly, so when others looked at them, they would know they were dealing with someone intelligent, rich, or otherwise useful to the community as a whole.
CALL it premonition or call it instinct, but some higher power had encouraged Frizz not to dress as he normally did on this particular occasion. Today there was no argyle sweater vest, no linen socks that reached far past his ankles, no starched collar, and no slacks that ended where his socks began. Instead, he'd been lazy and nicked a T-shirt and some jeans from some other boy in his dorm. He wasn't friends with the boy, - Frizz didn't talk to anyone in his dorm; they were all mean-looking and ill-tempered and not the sort of people someone like Frizz would get on with -, but the clothes' master wasn't one of the lads who made a point of harping on Frizz and his under-eccentric tastes every time the opportunity presented itself. The boy was also rather stylish, so if Frizz had to be caught in someone's clothing, the boy's were preferable. When he'd first slipped them on, they'd startled him with their level of comfort. He found it oddly relaxing, not having pants and shirts that scratched against his skin, or pants that rode up every time he took a step. The only down side was Frizz was swallowed up by his outfit of choice. He'd never been the biggest or the strongest, but tighter-fitting clothes at least made him look his regular size. Engulfed in clothing purposely made a size or two too large, all of his exposed body parts looked miniscule. That was one good thing the rainwater did for him. It plastered the clothes to his skin and didn't make him look quite so tiny.
REACHING the library, Frizz ascended the concrete steps leading up to its entrance. Of course, for all the brains in his head, he had no room left for a reaction time or hand-eye coordination. His sneaker-clad (again, not his shoe of choice) foot slipped off the stair when he was but three more steps to the top, pitching Frizz forward. He threw his hands out to catch himself, but the momentum of his fall was more than he expected (in hindsight, he speculated this was due to the excess weight of his borrowed clothing). He ended up banging his elbow against the stair. Frizz grimaced as the concrete cut into his skin, small dots of blood appearing on his arm. That wouldn't do. There were vampires inside the library. Frizz braced himself against the steps and pushed up, his feet somehow gaining purchase. Once again in an upright position, Frizz held his bleeding up arm, allowing the rain to beat against it and wash away not only the blood, but its scent. After a moment or so, Frizz decided he could check his arm again. The blood flow had stopped, and there was only a small smear of pink remaining. Frizz gently rubbed that away with his fore and middle fingers before continuing on his way to the library. One tug opened the door, while the other closed it behind him. He was sopping wet, thanks to his spill, and Frizz didn't want to drip on any of his favorite novels, so he gave his head a quick shake (after leaning over, so the drops flying free wouldn't go anywhere but the ground). His hair shaken out, Frizz proceeded to his usual table - the farthest one from the door.. and any prying eyes.
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tags & mackenzie rose wyatt
words & 835
notes & I rambled a bit in this, didn't I? x.x
lyrics & "Hey Soul Sister" - Train (who else?)
credit & This template was created by the ever-awesome zee (a.k.a FLUNK IS A FOUR LETTER WORD @zee's coding palace). If you steal it, she will make a snowman out of your internal organs and place it right next to Charlie's. That's right. Your organs will be on the NORTH FLIPPING POLE. I'd suggest you not steal, if you know what's best for you.