Dog Days [open]

[Sidra Cotton]

Being born in October meant she was enrolled in school later, and as a result, would graduate at 18 rather than the 17. Not that it mattered, she was still stuck at Hammel regardless. Something about needing more control over a power that altered molecular structure. As far as the goth was concerned, it was total BS and served only to piss her off.

Her dad had said he'd be moving out to Vermont to be closer to her, but so far hadn't made the move. There were reasons and excuses, but she was starting to feel like she wasn't a priority. Which was also total BS because she knew she was her father's daughter. To the core.

She needed air, the dorm felt stuffy and uncomfortable and Sidra wanted OUT. Buckling the steampunked boots on over fishnets, the surly goth grabbed her violin case and marched out and away from.

What passed for heat in Vermont was nothing compared to the wet humidity of Georgia, though that hadn't stopped her from toning down the accessories and layers with her summer ensamble. Slowing down so the threat of sweating through her makeup was not as great. Considering it was pretty heavy-duty stuff it would take a lot of sweating, but she didn't want to have to bother with it.

Besides. Vampires didn't sweat.

Marching along, looking neither left nor right, Sidra made her way across the campus and towards the koi pond. There she stopped and plopped down on the grass beneath a tree. Opening her violin case she removed the instrument and bow and toyed with it, not playing, but not leaving her hands still.

Boredom sucked. Add heat and it was a recipe for a foul, more than usual, mood.

There were others, of course, milling around, but thankfully most everyone preferred the refuge of the indoors and air conditioning.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

He was crazy. Just, crazy. It was hot outside, and the boy was wearing something near his usual clothing. It was a tightish black shirt with no sleeves and a pair of jeans that had very recently been cut off at the knees not only to allow for movement but to allow for him to not die of heat exhaustion. Zaeric had been planning on going to the training field earlier that day to get some exersize since the morning had been relatively cool, but that hadn't happened. As soon as the clouds had gone away the heat had just steadily risen making him hide in his air conditioned dorm for most of the morning. It was putting him in a dark, black mood, one he had been trying to avoid with a passion. Usually he was just fine with his guitar and poetry, but nothing was making it any better. So he slung the not so shiny instrument over his shoulder and decided to brave the wilds, which he immediately regretted.

The heat was going to choke him. If it weren't for the koi he knew where in the water then Zaer would try to turn the whole thing into a black of ice. It wouldn't help, but he could try. The boy felt like he currently belonged in Antarctica and someone had placed him in death Valley. If it were possible to get any warmer then he would probably just keel over dead on the spot. All of these wonderful facts together just added to the oh so not lovely end of his mood. Dark, snappish, and cold. He figured no one would be down at the pond to disturb him as he tried to lighten his own mood. Not so much.

Someone was sitting at the pond, an instrument in their hand. It was the weirdest thing he had ever seen, striped and resembling a violin. Even so, Zaerics respect notch went from the basic level up a few bits. Not just any normal person could play strings. Well, he obviously wasn't looking at any normal person. Her outfit was....he didn't have words to describe it. Somewhere between goth, steam punk, and Alice in wonderland gone wrong. Did she jump out of a bad video game or was she a cos player lost from her convention. Her makeup was heavy, hair fire truck red, and the rest of her.....was interesting. Zaeric kind of wanted to slap some sense into this person, but held back. A fight was the last thing he needed. Still, he needed the water like a photosynth needed sunshine. Not that I need the sunshine. They can keep their damn sunny rays, I just want it to go the hell away. Where is the cold air when you need it. These dark thoughts filled his darker mood to make a volatile mix Zaer didn't display often.

He grabbed the guitar carefully and slid it off, letting it rest in his hands. A few bars of a mellow, evil sounding song rolled off the strings as he pulled chords, and he wished he could think of something that would sound good on acoustic. Nightwish was out of the question, and all he knew after that was Lincoln park. Bleed it out shoved it ways through his mind, and his fingers absently played a bare melody.

" Do you play often?" He asked the strange girl in a tone a little bit rougher than he meant to, with a face a little more sharpened with a bad mood than he would like.

[Sidra Cotton]

Of course someone would come over and disturb her. Of course that someone would be a mundane with delusions of originality. Granted it was a snap judgement, but Sidra was the mistress of snap judgements being both judge and jury. It didn’t matter if the person she was judging was actually an interesting person with merits of their own, once her mind was made up it took more than a few guitar chords from a popular song to change her mind.

Even as he snapped his question at her regarding the violin she held, the surly female was sizing him up. Tall, lanky. She supposed people could consider him handsome but he wasn’t even remotely in her range of ‘interesting’ to look at. He was beneath her, as so many were, and clearly needed to be reminded of this fact. For the first time. Had she ever interacted with him previously? Not to her memory, but then so much about Hammel was unworthy of retaining. The librarian had been a rare exception, but that had fallen apart before it ever got started.

“Often enough,” four syllables dripping with disdain. Not enough to really give the boy a look at the custom fangs she wore, but if he was paying attention--or staring at her mouth--he would have seen hints of them. Whether he understood what they meant, or recognized the color matched dental acrylic for what they were was another matter entirely.

Wrinkling her nose she snorted at the guitar and reached for her resin, determined to show him up. She was better, of course, than he was. She wasn’t hooked up to a sound system, which was always better with the electric violins, but Sidra was still more than capable. It had been one of the few things her mother had pushed her towards that she enjoyed and applied herself to. Even if her choices of music were not what the former Ms. Cotton would have preferred. Going through the list of songs she knew well in her mind quickly, Sidra chose her usual fall back and applied bow to strings.

E-Nomine’s Mitternacht adapted to violin was produced. There was absolutely something missing without the electronic hook-ups, but it was what it was, and regardless the goth was pleased. Even without the addition it was, to Sidra's mind, far better than something heard on American radio. Again, and again, and again. German > American. That was just the way it was.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

The girl just started playing her weird striped violin and he sighed. Great, just what he needed. Competition.. it was a freaking violin! How was he supposed to measure that up with an acoustic guitar? Especially since she was obviously playing something german. He didn't know any German music that could be played on guitar. He knew Rammstein, but that would sound awful. And he knew some Excision, but again, not meant for acoustic.

" Well, I see that someone has some skills. Ad its German music, which is good." Even though he meant it his voice was dry and sarcastic. He couldn't do anything in this situation and it really irked him. Well, he could do one thing. He could piss her off and weave his own music into the notes of hers. Well, if the goth was going to try and show him up he was going to come back to the best of his ability. For a few moment he let his hands rove over the stirings, adding chords to the minor song. He liked the effect, for it seemed to make the well played song even deeper than it was meant to be. He didn't even know this girl. Even so, it was nice to have a challenge like this, especially in this dark dank mood he was in. In fact, she seemed to be in the same dark mood he was. Maybe that was always her mood. He expected her to be the kind to have a dark humor that few could enjoy. Maybe he could. ah well, he just was here to play music.

Once the longer song was over he adjusted the tuners on his guitar. He wanted to play something dark like that but stilled his hands. the melody could stew in his mind for a while while he talked to this girl.

" I'm Zaer." He said with a bit of grudging respect.

[Sidra Cotton]

As he started to interweave guitar with violin, Sidra’s eyebrows shot upward, and then her eyes narrowed. He wanted to join her? Fine. She wasn’t about to make the playing easy for him. Increasing the tempo, she was match chord for chord, note for note. What should have been a growing respect, was instead irritation. He wasn’t supposed to actually be able to play the song, let alone weave his own harmony into it.

It was beyond irritating by the time she’d finished and lowered both bow and violin. How dared he? That was her moment to prove to him that SHE was superior. That he even bothered to give her his name was evidence to his delusion that he was anything other than a bother. There was, she thought, respect in his tone when he gave his name. But that was only to be expected. Respect was due her.

Always.

“Are you now?” Not even an attempt to exchange her name for his. “And how do you know what German music sounds like?” Disbelief. Someone like him couldn’t possibly recognize the difference between American and Germanic score.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

Her voice was just going to piss him off. She had sped up through the whole thing and changed everything just to try and catch HIM off guard. He regretted even saying his name. Why did he bother with someone who was obviously arrogant and thought that they were just everything you could pack into one person. While he admired individuality he didn't care for it when it made something thing they were god. Jeeze, he knew that by the end of the day he was going to get into a fight of some kind. Just the anger he was giving off now would be enough to start one.

" I know german music because I'm not some hidebound idiot who listens to one kind of music. I actually open my ears." His voice was cold and hard, flinty. Zaeric was not the kind of person who put up with people who were just....damn straight irritating. and it seemed that that was how this girl was even going to be. When she spoke he noticed her teeth flashed, and it looked like she had fangs. Vampire girl? fine, he could run with that. " I listen to Ramstein and Excision as well as a few other groups Fang girl." He growled out. He was going to sit, but liked the idea of standing better. That way he could maintain some modicum of control. He didn't want to hit a girl but didn't know if she qualified as a normal girl. Honestly right now he just wanted to bash her over the head with his guitar.

" Not everyone who is white and plays guitar idolizes hicks from the back woods who wouldn't know the difference of music from dog shit." Great, now he was swearing. He tried to hard not to and he was. Well, since he was Zaer just decided to go with it. Besides, he felt insulted. He liked music and didn't want some goth girl who thought she knew all to take his fun away.

[Sidra Cotton]

Was he getting snippy with her? Seriously, did this bug think he could even compete with the likes of her? A Queen of the Night. A goddess among Goths. “What,” her eyes cut into his, “makes you think I close my ears?” If the expression wasn’t telling, then the acid that tinged her tone should have been. It wasn’t a question that was meant to be answered, if the truth were to be shared, she didn’t want him to speak at all. He was a nothing.

But she was bored, and a fight was more entertaining than sitting around doing nothing at all.

“Excision’s all right, but they ain’t got nothing on E Nomine or SOPOR AETERNUS. Compared to them Excision is just a buncha noise and random notes thrown together. There’s no elegance to it. No art.” She was baiting him, while Excision had it’s place in her musical library, she did prefer the artistic storytelling through music of E Nomine, and the musical design of Anna-Varney.

As for only hicks playing guitar, he’d just handed her the weapon of choice on the proverbial silver platter. Though a part of her bristled at his insinuation that there was no difference between country music and dog waste. Her sister liked everything, and while very VERY few country sounds appealed to Sidra, if anyone in her immediate family liked it, she would protect their choices fang and nail.

“Admit it, Hick Boy, you just learned how to play the guitar to be part of the ‘in crowd’. You just wanna fit in with the rest of the sheep.”

[Zaeric Blackwood]

Hick Boy? Did he even look remotely like a hick? It was so laughable but it pissed him off and ignited a fire in his brain. He wasn't going to stand here and tke garbage from some weird girl who was so conformative to the goth world she couldn't open her damned eyes and see how normal she was. Maybe he was just going to have to take the savage pleasure of telling her how much of a wanna be she really was. That was going to be fun fun fun. He stocked up all the things he knew that would probably piss off a real goth. It was all the sterotypical stuff that tended to piss people off.

" Hick am I? You are really pathetic. You dress like a dyslexic rainbow so people will look at you. You dye your hair whatever the color of the day is in whatever lame tabloid you read. You have fangs. I see that as someone who is just crying out for attention." He smirked and raised an eyesbrow, sizing her up.

" Underneath all the make-up and stupid costumes your just some average normal teen who likes pink fluffy crap and Twilight. Nothing but a giant pretender. " That about summed it up. pretender. Let that sink into her over dressed, over dyed, fizzed out brain. Maybe then she would get up and do something. He was taking an absolutely savage pleasure in telling her how absolutely normal she was underneath all of the fakeness. She could have been a reaal honest to gothness kind of person, but he didn't care today. Zaer was more pissed than a wet wasp in a rainstorm.

[Sidra Cotton]

There were several things wrong with the hick's analysis of her. Starting with the dyslexic rainbow. Colors weren't dyslexic, that would be closer to colorblind, proving her point about him being a hick and thus uneducated. Second, her hair was both dyed, and hair fall-ed. The curls clearly weren't her natural hair, but a synthetic she'd structured and designed for just such a purpose. Third, tabloids... really? Did those still exist? Fourth, pink and fluffy was her sister. Fifth, Twilight was her brother. Rob P was a hottie, sure, but the books/movies/whatever were a waste of paper/film/space/time. If vampires weren't eating/killing everything they came across, if it wasn't a horror, then it was hopeless and not for her.

He did get one thing right, however. She did like the attention, and she did like being looked at. But who the hell didn't?

"Crying out for attention? Says the boy who's wearing all black, carries around a gey-taur," she over exaggerated the word thickening her own southern accent to give it the slur that was intended. "You come out, you strum a few cords from an overly aired raido song, and you probably expected to be praised for it."

Thunking knuckles against her corset, Sidra continued, "My clothes are my choice; a choice made for no one but me. IF I were a pretender I'd go to Hot Topic and run around waxing poetic about... oh I don't know, Green Day or some other crap band."

It was always amusing to see how people called her a 'pretender' when they couldn't embrace their own geekdoms. How they would pretend they didn't like things, just to fit in with the crowd. How they would say x movie was brilliant to one person, and bash it to another. Sidra, her brother, and her sister were the realest people she knew. They shattered preconceptions about people from Georgia. They didn't care if people looked. Well Thad didn't, sometimes Fallon did.

"Your feeble attempt and making me feel ashamed of who I am has failed, Hick Boy. Why don't you go off mud crawling or whatever it is that is natural to you. Stop trying to be bigger than you are, Hick. I'll wipe the floor with you." Grinning wolfishly at him, Sidra crossed one leg over the other and arched her eyebrows at him in challenge. He'd have to do better than that.

Pretender.

HA.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

Was that really all the better she could come up with. He thought about what he was wearing. Ya he had a black workout shirt on, but his ripped jeans were a dark blue. Was she colorblind? It just made him laugh more. Was she really going to try and get him to bend over to her half assed comments? Why was he letting himself get so angry in the first place? What did she matter?

"You come out, you strum a few cords from an overly aired radio song, and you probably expected to be praised for it." She said in a way he supposed was meant to be insulting. Yeah, mhmm. So insulting. Out of all the bands she could pick she had said Green Day, which was one of his least favorites anyway. Well wasn’t she just lucky. Queen stupid didn’t even know that most of the things that he played in his free time were things he had written and didn’t have words anyway. He just hmmphed with a kind of laugh at the end.

“ Well, you pointed out your clothes are your choice, mine are my choice. And if you happened to notice it’s not all black.” The way she wrapped her knuckles on that thick corset made him want to laugh even more. How could that even be comfortable? As he eyed her appearance again she continued talking. He was trying to fully take in what she was wearing. The boots were strange and all, but she was kind of unique. He shrugged internally and let her finish her rant.

Through his anger he raised an eye at her and laughed. Crawl through the mud? Okay, that was seriously funny. The last time he had crawled through mud had been when he was like, two. It took him a moment to stop laughing and eye Sidra critically.
" Mmmkay. You go 'wax poetic' about whatever. While your at it maybe you should wax your head. All that fake hair seems to be getting in the way of your brain functions." He replied to her.
" And I'm a bit tall. Don't think you can wipe the floor with me because you can't reach. Sorry for your luck." He smirked in reply to her wolfish grin. She wanted to play this game. He would play. It seemed to be putting him in a better mood.

[Sidra Cotton]

It was strange, the feeling of being laughed at. How long had it been since anyone laughed at her? Longer even that someone had challenged her. It wasn't often that Sidra reacted in a physical manner, usually relying on her appearance and demeanor to intimidate people into doing things the way she wanted them done. But that wasn't to say that it didn't on occasion happen.

There was something about the day. Maybe the planets were aligned in such a way that mars was leading and agro was strong. Maybe she was PMSing. Maybe he was just that annoying. Maybe she'd just had enough of everything. Maybe it was a combination of it all.

Whatever the reason, his challenge, the taunt about her not being able to reach him and the instant need to prove him wrong had Sidra lunging at him. Her hands thumped into his chest, her full weight behind the shove and sent him splashing into the koi pond. As soon as she'd done it, Sidra knew she'd crossed a line, but could not back down. Not after.

The resulting splash managed to get her as well, leaving spots of wet on her clothes and a spreading puddle on the paved area around the koi pond itself.

Regardless, seeing him in the pond, the fish scattered to the other side avoiding the big thing that had invaded and was obviously a threat was... funny. The threat of laughter was strong but her will was stronger. Pressing her lips into a thin line, Sidra narrowed her eyes instead.

NO laughing. It simply wouldn't do.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

If he had been ready there was a chance that he might not have just tumbled over. Of course, he hadn't been ready and hadn't been expecting her to be so....angry. She just seemed to light up with anger and then shove him over. The moment of free fall lasted forever, and then he splashed into the water. It wasn't deep, but he could see the golden fish dart away and muck filled water assaulted his eyes. Bubbles of surprise floated away from his nose and mouth, and he had to get ahold of himself. He pushed up, spraying water everywhere. He was sitting waist deep in murky water, dripping wet, and still laughing.

His laughter rang across the water, for he still thought this whole thing was hilarious! That, and he had just gotten the best idea ever to bring the appearance obsessed goth to her knees. If she was so worried about looking different she probably took good care of her clothes. How would she react to having them doused in mud and muck? Zaer took a deep breath in and let his laughing green eyes settle on her, silently saying this means war. His hands sliced upward and twitched forward quickly, letting the water behind him collect. He had been practicing more and more lately, and the wave that followed him said that. It drenched him and moved on, showering her in dirty water and flecks of mud before freezing slightly. There, cold and wet all at the same time.

" Hmm. Did you fall in the pond? I thought I was the one who got shoved in." The challenging glint was stronger than ever as he rose from the water and let stray droplets hit her as he shook the water off himself. Her face had been so unamused and so unlaughing. Ha! He could enjoy laughing while he was doing this. It seemed to be the only taunt that was going to get through her thick skull at the moment anyway. So he just chuckled at her ridiculous appearance, not soaked and sort of deflated looking.

[Sidra Cotton]

She saw it coming. The rise of the water and the push towards her. In the span of a few seconds, Sidra watched as the wall came towards her, a few koi swimming desperately in an attempt to escape the unnatural tide. Her mouth opened in a hiss--a mistake on her part as the wave engulfed her. Violin, case, body and all.

A fish flapped around in her nearly non-existent cleavage until she pulled it out and threw it at the water-wielding Meta. It missed, but splashed safely back into the pond. Safe, however, was not a word one would use for the now drenched teenagers. Particularly the girl. She was far from 'safe', and the boy was in her sites. Lunging at him again, hands outstretched and fingers curled into a claw-like method, she attacked.

The eyeliner, and face were water-proof, but water-proof didn't include a tidal wave in miniature washing over her and the running of the cosmetics only served to create a more deranged look on the goth.

Whatever tentative hold on self control Sidra had once possessed, it was gone. Washed away. There was only so much any one person could be asked to take. Only so much even she, with the brother who had a nack for stealing her eyeliner and using it to nubs, could handle.

Her clothes were a point of pride. Her corsets lovingly crafted and worn. They were not made for swimming. The steel boning wasn't going to rust, but the water wasn't exactly good for it either. And certainly not the faux leather she'd used.

"YOU!" The word was screeched as the lunge completed bringing her face-to chest with fool who'd dared to start the fight.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

She looked deranged. Utterly deranged and off her rocker. The fact that her eyeliner was now running down her face and her red heart now looked like a running rivulet of glittery red didn't help. She lunged into the water after him and rammed into him, not quite knocking him over. He was really surprised and that shock echoed across his face, but he let the nails dig into him before stepping aside. He wasn't going to let this ego pumped, gothic, crazy looking girl run him over. She wasn't his friend and she wasn't someone he even liked. There's no chance he was going to be his normal passive self around her.

He had to think about what he was doing because Zaer wasn't honestly sure how long he could hold out. At least with the water part of it. Ice he would be able to go for a long while. Zaer made a few movements and brought another wall of water crashing over them. He didn't care if he got wet because he was always wet or cold. The was going to be fun. The water rushed over him and pulled her out farther into the water. It was only slightly deeper there, but it was muddier. He knew, he had been out there a few times.

If she was going to play this game he was going to fight right back. He could try to freeze her where she stood and leave her there until she figured her way out. He would use that as a last resort if she started to get bitchy about everything. Fang Girl, [that's what he was calling her because he still didn't know her name. He couldn't remember it,] was going to get drenched, dirty, and hopefully have some sense knocked into her brightly colored head.

" Taking a bath Goth Princess? The fish don't like it when you disturb them." He was ready for the next attack. He was going to take this all the way. Zaer was having fun and he was going to enjoy this fight no matter how much trouble it got him in in the end.

[Vincent Romanov]

Fights breaking out on campus weren't exactly rare, but they didn't happen every day either. Combining a bunch of hormonal teenagers who all possessed such awesome abilities really wasn't the best mix of things in the universe to put together in a walled facility. Every now and again, certain individuals, the alphas of every clique if you will, found some reason or another to challenge each other and show off their abilities. This was the usual action which the security team at Hammel dealt with and sometimes the most dangerous. While the security personal were all very well trained people with the strictest control over their powers, the kids they dealt with were not. It was like sending in a bomb expert to diffuse a bomb. Sometimes it was simple and sometimes the bomb went off.

Vincent just happened to be heading across the campus when the call came in over the small ear piece he wore when duty. It seemed two teens were fighting over who knew what and things were really getting out of control. Vincent responded first and let the control center know he was on his way and to be ready to send medical personal if needed. The fight was taking place down at the pond, a place which was usually meant for some peace and relaxation, but now a hotbed of violence.

Vincent wasted no time in running over toward the pond, where two more security personal met him. "Get the crowd back while I take care of our two prize fighters," he ordered his crew, who quickly began to follow his orders. Vincent pushed his way through the small crowd who had begun to gather, frowning as he emerged into the open and the shoreline of the pond. The boy Vincent didn't recognize, nor the girl. It mattered little really as he would know them both quite well soon enough. The girl looked the worse for the wear, drenched to the bone. The boy looked more in control of the situation, but still rough in his own right. A lover's spat maybe? Or perhaps a would be suitor rejected by his prey? Whatever the reason, all this was about to end and very soon.

Putting two fingers, one at each corner of his mouth, Vincent gave a sharp and shrill whistle to get the two teens attention. "All kids out of the pool!," he shouted rather loudly, hoping he wasn't going to have to go out there and drag both of them kicking and screaming back to dry land. "Its not a request, so make it quick!," he shouted just to make sure the point that this fight was over was clear to both parties involved.