Criminal Beauty [open]

[Marley Rose]

There was something about graffiti that spoke to Marley more than any other art form. She really couldn't commit herself to a medium other than spray paint, for whatever reason. And any graffiti artist knew that the best canvas wasn't really a canvas - it was a wall. Unfortunately, there was a lack of free wall space in Pilot Ridge. So more often than not, Marley found herself creating her art on public buildings late at night (Or at least after dark).

Saturday nights Marley often found herself traveling through the more deserted parts of town, looking for some sort of old building that she felt she could get away with marking - a backpack on her back filled with everything she needed. This night was no different, except she knew her destination. Earlier that week Marley had found an abandoned building with flat, white walls - perfect for her work.

Marley's graffiti wasn't like something you would see scrawled across a park bench or public telephone. Instead, Marley created landscapes and scenes, like forests, deserts, and city skylines. Sometimes her work was cartoony, and sometimes they were realistic. Sometimes they were a cross between the two. When she saw the old white building, she had a vision, and started to create a huge space mural on the side of the building. Today she was going back to add some planets and stars to the black base she had put up earlier.

Sometimes Marley felt like nobody ever saw her work, and she wasn't sure if she minded, especially since it was considered vandalism to many. However, her work was the only thing that made her feel good, like she was contributing something beautiful to the world... even if most of the world didn't see it.

She walked to the side of the building, and set her backpack down. She wrapped her scarf around her face. It served the dual purpose of keeping her warm in the cold Vermont air, and keeping her from breathing in too many fumes. The street lights were just enough for her to work under. She took out a couple of cans of spray paint - various yellows, reds, and oranges, to start creating some planets for her mural. Every now and then she looked around, hoping she wouldn't get caught in what was probably considered criminal.

[Dante Russo]

Dante, too, enjoyed prowling around after dark. His frequent nightmares escalated during the holiday season, and with all of the shops already decorating for Christmas it was hard to ignore that it was, in fact, going to be Christmas relatively soon. That, and his roommate was a dream walker, so Dante considered his nighttime wandering to be a courtesy. The guy should be able to sleep in his own dorm once in a while.

He had come across the space mural a few days ago, and had spent the better part of an hour sitting on the curb, staring at it. Often, Dante’s desire to wander the streets coincided with emotional upset, and he found the artwork soothing. Granted, it had just been a wall of black paint at that point, but there was something to be said for an expanse of black. It gave him something to look at while he worked through his own internal conflict.

Tonight’s stroll was leading him back to the same place, wondering if the anonymous artist had added anything to it. He was close, just coming to the corner of the street that the unfinished mural was on, when a homeless man limped out of a shadow and startled the shit out of him.

“Bum a cig, man?” he mumbled, and Dante jumped.

“Whoa, hey man! Make a noise, cough or something, Jesus Christ!” Dante held his chest, feeling his heart hammer beneath.

“S’ry, s’ry,” the man mumbled, holding up his bony hands. He then nodded pointedly to the cigarette between Dante’s fingers and asked again, “bum a cig?”

“Oh, man.. this is my last one, dude,” Dante said. He looked at his cigarette, then at the man. “Here, why don’t you finish it. More than half left.” Dante held it out, and the man took it with a smile.

“Thank you sir. Thank you,” he mumbled, already turning away.

Dante took a deep breath and continued on his way, rubbing the back of his head and shaking off the sudden encounter. Then he saw it: The artist was here. What were the odds of that? “Yo,” he called, a grin beginning in the corners of his mouth, “you wouldn’t happen to have cigarettes, would you?”

[Marley Rose]

When Marley first heard the voice, she jumped, ready to throw her paint in her bag and run. However, once she processed that the voice was not one of a cop, or any sort of authority figure, she relaxed. The boy wasn't even intimating. He was kind of scrawny looking, and all he wanted from her was a cigarette. "What do I look like? Some sort of delinquent?" Marley joked, turning back toward her mural. "Even if I could afford to smoke, I wouldn't do it here. Can't have open flames near aerosol cans." Vandalism and arson were two totally different animals. One of which Marley did not wish to play with.

She didn't turn back to the boy, and set her focus again on the mural, trying to get the rings around the planet she had made just right. It took a few layers of purples and blues to cast the right shadow under the rings but Marley was satisfied after a moment. She pulled her scarf down off her face for a moment, to try and breathe some fresh air while she wasn't creating noxious fumes. She turned to where the boy had walked over, and upon noticing he was still there said, "Anything else I can help you with?" Her tone wasn't helpful though. It wasn't nasty either. Just indifferent - like the guys presence wasn't needed nor wanted, but she also didn't care he was there. As long as he didn't interfere or call the cops or something.

[Dante Russo]

Dante snorted and rolled his eyes. She did look like a delinquent, but he supposed that was the joke. Anyway, she didn't have cigarettes, and she pointed out that smoking right here was probably not the best idea in the world. Dante rose his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. "Aight. That's reasonable," he said, taking a step backwards toward the curb so he could take in the developing mural.

Dante was in an interesting sort of mood. He wasn't sleeping well. The past two nights were a lot of wasted hours lying awake, and right now he was aproaching the moment of tiredness where everything seemed really profound. He didn't even mind the female company. He didn't even seem to notice, actually, which was weird since women seriously wigged him out. The point was that she was painting something cool, and Dante was a little sleep deprived.

"Nah," he answered her with a shrug, "you mind if I watch, though? I promise I won't be all 'why'd you put that there?' or, 'what're you doin' now?' or anything."

[Marley Rose]

Marley raised an eyebrow at the boy, but in the dark it may have been hard to tell. She found it odd that he requested to watch, but she guessed it didn't matter. "Uh... sure," she said, wrapping her scarf back around her face. She turned her attention back to her work, now painting an earth-looking planet on another section of the wall. It wasn't supposed to be their solar system, but she supposed there must be other planets that looked like earth somewhere.

Every now and then she would turn around to see if the guy was still there, or if he got bored and ran off. He never did. He just quietly watched. "What's your name?" she finally asked, when she came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to loose interest any time soon. She didn't stop painting though - as she started to add a comet, and meteors across the landscape. "If you don't mind me asking," she added. He had told her he wouldn't ask questions. While she never promised the same, Marley understood wanting to be left alone.

[Dante Russo]

Dante sat down on the curb when she said he could watch. Not that he needed her permission. Well, maybe a little. He wasn't feeling very alpha-dog at the moment, probably due to some weirdness going on with he and Wren. "Weirdness" meaning that Dante was curently avoiding him in order to postpone an uncomfortable conversation. The whole thing was just embarrassing.

Watching someone make art right in front of him was even better than coming back to find the mural finished. It was fun knowing how it all unfolded. The layers that eventually made a picture. Fascinating. It didn't take long for his sleep deprived brain to completely zone out. Lost in thought. Peeling back the layers of his own life. Thinking things that seemed super profound, but that he couldn't put into words if he tried. Damn, he needed to sleep.

He jumped a little when she asked his name. He blinked a few times, gathering his thoughts before he answered. "Dante, and I don't mind. But I would point out it's only fair you tell me yours now."

[Marley Rose]

"Marley," the girl said without really turning around. Her voice was probably a little muffled because of the scarf, but she didn't think twice about it. Her attention was quickly turned to her backpack, where she took off the black knit glove she was wearing and switched it out with a latex one. She finally faced the boy as she grabbed a can on white paint and began to shake it. "What brings you to the dregs of Pilot Ridge tonight?" she asked, curious. She thought it was pretty obvious her purpose here, but Dante had come out of nowhere and refused to leave.

She began spraying the white paint into her hand as she talked, and when she finished, though she expected some sort of answer, she turned back to the wall and began flicking paint toward the wall, creating small white speckles, thus adding stars to her landscape. With each flick another dozen stars came into the picture. It was weird how painting like this made Marley feel like she had some control for once. She ignored the fact that the only streetlamp nearby had started flickering.

[Dante Russo]

"Oh, you know," Dante sighed, "can't sleep. Can't stop thinking. Live sucks. The usual." He stifled a yawn, and glanced warily at the flickering street light. He grew up in New York City, and while he'd gotten used to the idea that Pilot Ridge wasn't as dangerous as Brooklyn at night, he still couldn't let himself relax. He was sure Pilot Ridge had a seedy underbelly somewhere, and shady people liked dark streets.

"So what's your story? I figure every delinquent's got one-- wait. I said I wasn't gonna' ask questions. Never mind." In Dante's experience, kids broke the law either out of boredome, rebellion, or necessity. Sometimes all three. Dante was getting his pickpocketing back in shape because, first of all, why the hell not? Second, he was broke as shit. Picking pockets solo was a lot different than doing it with a crew like he used to in NY, but he was getting used to it. Kept him in cigarettes, anyway.

Dante glanced again at the flickering lamp before settling his gaze on Marley's painting. Heh, Marley. When Dante was twelve, his friend Jo Jo went through a pretty entertaining Bob Marley phase. He smiled at the memory and tried not to get one of those songs stuck-- ugh, too late.

[Marley Rose]

"Nah I started asking questions first," Marley pointed out, as she continued to create clusters of stars. "I was raised by the US foster care system. Always had a bad attitude. Convinced myself that nobody really wanted me. Got teased a lot for it. Started getting into fights and stuff. My counselor suggested art as a way to express my feelings... I don't think this is exactly what she meant but I've punched a lot less people in the face since I've started painting," Marley explained, turning her head sideways for a moment, to study her picture.

"My real name's Isabella but I didn't know that until my biological brother tracked me down and his adoptive parents took me in. I think I'm going to stick with Marley though," she added as she pulled the glove off her hand, tossing it aside. She replace the knit glove, since her hand was becoming quite cold. She looked up at the street light, and tried to steady it as best she could, since the flickering was beginning to get on her nerves. She wasn't great at control yet, but she at least slowed the pulses of light. "Your turn," she told the boy who sat and listened to the short version of her life story. She left out plenty of details. Like the fact that her mother abandoned her in front of a hospital and then drove her car off of a cliff - or something. Or that she can apparently control energy, now. And she was taken away from her new 'family' so shortly after she was taken in. Not that she had the chance to grow too attached anyway.

[Dante Russo]

Dante found Marley's story oddly refreshing. All of the people he hung around were from good homes with people who cared about them, and had enough money to impulse buy a new pair of shoes... or whatever it was people did with their money. Dante was starting to feel a little out of place, especially since he'd agreed to spend Christmas with Wren's family. He wasn't exactly looking forward to rubbing elbows the middle class.

He gave a sympathetic cringe at the mention of foster care. His life had been a hellish nigtmare, but he was still glad he was never bounced around the foster system.

"Okay," Dante said, sitting up a little. He took a moment to breathe on his frozen fingers (he was wearing a beanie, and a scarf, and a hooded sweatshirt, and a winter coat, and he was still freezing). "Grew up in Brooklyn, raised by a single mother who's absolutely bat-shit fuckin' crazy, learned how to steal when I was nine. Picking pockets helped pay the rent, and Rebecca sucked at holding down a job-- sorry that's.. I don't call her 'mom'. Ran away from home when I was fourteen. That bitch broke my arm and I was like, 'fuck this shit, I'm out'. Came to Vermont because it seemed like a good idea at the time.."

Dante trailed off, thinking. His precognition had led him here, even if he didn't remember his visions. They still lived in his subconscious, guiding his instincts. It was getting less and less obvious, and Dante was beginning to feel like maybe the usefulness of this mutation was fading. Or maybe nothing important was happening right now. Running away from home was the most important decision he'd made yet, and that was two years ago...

[Marley Rose]

"Of all the places in the world you come to Vermont?" Marley asked, turning only to look at Dante like he was clinically insane. The craziest part of his story was the fact he'd decide to leave such an electric, cultural center and come to Vermont. "There's nothing here and it's fucking freezing like... 11 months of the year," she pointed out. Vermont wasn't somewhere she particularly liked. It was just a bunch of trees and old buildings. Some mountains and a shit ton of snow. Landscapes that looked like old Christmas cards. Which was pretty and everything... but it got boring very, very quickly.

"If I had the choice I'd be out of here in a heartbeat," Marley grumbled, picking up another can of paint, feeling her anger well up. The streetlight brightened with her rise of emotion. She hated that she had to go to school here. That she didn't have a choice. That as soon as she was OUT of the government's control, she was put back under it. "Sorry about your mom though," Marley stated, her one bit of sympathy - assuming he could perceive her tone as such. She did know what it was like to live with some crazy mom figures, but non had ever broke her arm. Slapped her maybe...

[Dante Russo]

Dante laughed. True, Vermont wasn't exactly glamorous, but NYC wasn't as glamorous either when you live in a bad neighborhood. Dante was more accostomed to the sounds of gang fights and domestic violence than he preferred to be. As they say, anyplace else you could possibly go after New York woule be a pleasure cruise (ok, so that was from Rent. Dante liked musicals, you wanna fight about it!)

"Yeah, I'm not diggin' the cold, but at least where I live now has heat." He wasn't sure if he should bring up Hammel. Not everyone in Pilot Ridge was meta and, like any minority group, there was the potential for animosity. Dante wasn't good in a fight. He was scrawny, and he didn't eat enough even though therew as more than enough available to him. He was self destructive, but that didn't mean he wanted to get into a street fight. Who knew what this chick had on her. He wasn't interested in getting stabbed tonight.

Marley said she'd leave here if she could, and Dante couldn't blame her. It was boring, but Dante was putting a lot of stock into safty these days. If he could leave, where the hell would he go? Not New York. Not anywhere near that crazy woman. Frankly, the thought of eventually moving out of the dorms scared him. He'd lived on the streets for a week when he first rolled into Vermont, and it wasn't fun. Dante couldn't imagine being able to get his shit together enough to support himself. Maybe it'd be different in a couple years, but right now he was a hot mess.

"Yeah," Dante murmured at Marley's sympathy, "that's not even the worst thing she's done to me..." His eyes went distant for a moment, but he quickly brought himself back and changed the subject. "So why can't you leave? You don't seem like the kind of person who gets tied down."

[Marley Rose]

Marley glanced back as Dante's voice went distant. She knew that tone meant she shouldn't push the subject more. When you push people to talk about things they don't want to, they either start to cry or scream. They were two reactions Marley didn't particularly enjoy dealing with. More often than not, she'd end up screaming back and the last thing she wanted to do was cause a power surge. The cheap light bulbs in the shady buildings wouldn't hold up well.

"I'm a victim of government control... again," Marley said with a groan. "I have to go to school here." She didn't bring up Hammel, though it may have been implied. She wasn't sure how many locals really knew about the school. She wasn't sure how many locals were accepting of the students, once they found out the institute's purpose. She had been an outcast her whole life, and didn't want to give people a reason to ostracize her more than they would.

"I tried leaving once, but they found me and brought me back," Marley explained with a shrug. She hadn't even thought about leaving since. It just seemed like too much of a hassle. Sneakily running away, now knowing that there was somebody with the ability to locate her who would show up and take her back to Hammel quicker than she could get a good night's rest.

[Dante Russo]

"I have to go to school here too," he said, looking up at Marley, trying to decide if they were talking about the same school. He was too tired for this dancing around bullshit. "I think of it less like being forced to be here, and more like they can't really kick me out." Dante shrugged and smirked to himself. He got in trouble a lot. Detention was a regular part of his schedule. "Which is great, because sleeping on the street sucks." It was sort of nice to say things like that to someone who wouldn't immediately give him the sad puppy eyes. Fucking Wren and his puppy-face.

Dante climbed to his feet, stiff from the cold, and bounced on the balls of his feet a couple times. His ass was frozen now, right along with his toes and fingers. "Damn, it's cold," he breathed. "So, you gonna' go home for the holidays then?"

Why the hell am I standing out in the cold talking to some random bitch? Do I care what she's doing for the holidays? I hate holidays. I'm the fucking Grinch! I don't care about her plans. I really couldn't care any less about her plans. Except that he was still standing there waiting for an answer. He didn't actually want to be alone right now.

[Marley Rose]

Marley stuffed the loose cans of spray paint in her backpack, and pulled her hood up over her head, deciding it was too cold to continue. "I havn't decided," Marley said when asked about the holidays. Just because she sort of had a family now didn't mean she was attached to them. She was sure they'd like her to go 'home', but Marley didn't consider any one place a home. Not really. "I've never really celebrated anything anyway." In foster homes the holidays usually consisted of learning about the different holiday celebrations, a fancy meal, and maybe a new coat or something if you were lucky.

She considered trying to create her own heat energy momentarily, thinking maybe Dante was talking about Hammel too. Maybe he wouldn't be super freaked out if all of a sudden Marley was radiating heat like a mobile fireplace without the flames. "What school do you go to?" she asked with a raised eyebrow as she rubbed her hands together for warmth. He said he was being forced too. How many schools around the area could you actually be forced to go to? Especially if it obviously wasn't his mother's decision.