//everyone's a let down// SINCLAIR<3

[Isabelle Amherst]

it just depends on how far down they can GO!

"Meowrrrrr." Isabelle was on her hands and knees by the pond with her head tilted to the right, like a playful pet animal. Two brightly colored bobby pins --red and teal-- clipped her long black bangs away from her pale face, and she was clothed in an equally bright and colorful band tee with skinny jeans. Her green eyes were wide and bright with their usual fun-loving glow. About ten feet away from her was a stray white cat, still as a statue and eyeing Isabelle cautiously as if trying to analyze and determine whether she was friend or foe.

Tilting her head over to the left, Isabelle slowly crawled a bit closer to the animal, attempting (unsuccessflly) to make her movements lithe and graceful like the cat's. Staring at the stray, trying not to scare it away, Isabelle absentmindedly began to ponder if cats spoke different languages in different countries... and if so, what was the French word for meow? It was these things she wondered whenever her mind wandered, which was all of the time.

"Le Meowrrr?" The cat did not respond, and Isabelle laughed softly to herself at her own moronity. Feeling impatient, she quickly stood up from her crawling position, approached the white-furred cat, and scooped it up in her arms.

"Hi, cat," Isabelle greeted with a smile of her usual natural delight, not finding it the least bit strange that she was speaking to a cat, and not really caring if anyone around her thought she needed to be shot. Running her finger along its neck, she saw that it wore a collar with a heart-shaped charm but no name. "If you insist on not telling me your real name, I'll be forced to name you myself against your will. I've done it before. Ask my boyfriend." Isabelle chuckled to herself at the memory.

[Sinclair Gabriel]

Leave it to Isabelle to be all alone, meowing at some random cat. Sinclair didn't seem surprised in the least, though he approached only in time to hear her 'French' version of the meow. Her French? Adorable. His own German roots seemed so harsh compared to the sounds of the French language. It was something he was bothered by- maybe it fit them. Sinclair blinked when Isabelle picked the cat up. What? He glanced at his hands momentarily, considering his options. In his left hand was a bag of pink chalk, and his hand was stained with the color. Tucked in his pocket was a bag of teal and a bag of purple. And what did Sinclair Gabriel intend to do with the ground-up chalk? He intended on throwing it. All over.

Sneaking up on Isabelle was the easiest thing in the world for him. He could silence the sound of his approach, he could silence the world for her if he wanted. Sinclair was content with just silencing himself for now. As he stood behind her, he drew his hand into the bag, scooping up a handful as she'd scooped up the cat. He waited to throw anything at her, though, because she spoke. She actually greeted the cat. Hi? Did she expect an answer? Sinclair was tempted to give her one, to see her jump, or, if he was lucky, to see the light in her eyes as she would presume the cat said it. Maybe she'd just humor him, even if she knew it wasn't the cat. It would have been a great opportunity. He waited longer still- there'd be a perfect moment soon enough. There had to be. That or he'd get impatient. Isabelle spoke to the cat further, even referring to him, which only made him smirk. Oh, yes, her boyfriend. Mystery was his name from her, Mystery was the name that meant so much. One simple word, coming from her, was everything.

Just like that Sinclair threw a handful of pink chalk at her back, namely her shoulder. No warning, no regret. If anything he looked like he'd amused himself thoroughly.

"Le Beautiful,"Sinclair announced, referring to her and not the pink chalk that was now clinging to her clothes.

[Isabelle Amherst]

"Speak of the devil." Isabelle's light-hearted playful words were only made even more appropriate by the fact that her boyfriend's name was Sin. She smiled to herself at the sound of his voice and at the way he chose to address her, yet she did not dare turn around to face him, despite the soft powdered pink chalk that she had felt hitting her shoulder, staining her t-shirt and floating in a little pink chalk cloud surrounding her. Of course he would throw chalk at her out of all things, she thought with amusement. She was elated to see him, or rather to hear his supernaturally perfect voice, but she couldn't make that too obvious and have him knowing what a powerful effect he had over her. That would be unacceptable.

"You see how abusive he is? Always throwing things at me. Today, chalk; tomorrow, porcelain plates," Isabelle said aloud to the cat in a dry and sarcastic tone, still stroking its fur while shaking her head. Finally, she spun around to look at Sinclair, and as always, she failed to suppress her affectionate and adoring smile. She looked up at him, taking in the sight of his highlighted black hair and immensely bright blue eyes. It seemed like it had been a while since they'd seen each other, even though she knew that in all reality, it had not been very long at all. "I guess that's one way to try and make me take my clothes off. Bonus points for creativity, but not now, we have company," Isabelle teased him jokingly while gesturing at the couple's "company"-- the cat in her arms.

[Sinclair Gabriel]

Sinclair seemed unwilling to speak again, though the reason? It wasn't apparent. More than likely it was just some random decision he'd come to from no basis beyond there were two options- talk, and don't, he went with the second. It was nothing she did, it was nothing she was going to do, it was just a normal occurrence for Sinclair Gabriel. He was bound to change his mind. In fact, when she joked to the creature in her arms that he was abusive, Sinclair broke the pact of silence just as easily as he'd implemented it.

"Abusive,"Sinclair chuckled,"I would think I was the worse of your problems." Her words did not bother him, they merely amused him. Sinclair was not abusive, hence the humor in the statement. Sure, throwing something at someone was never a good thing- he was more playful than malice. And he was assured that Isabelle knew that. After all, they'd met when he'd been concerned by her almost falling off a cliff. She was more of a danger to herself than he ever would be, and his sole mission had become to protect her.

With that mutual understanding in place, Sinclair laughed harder when she mentioned that it was one way to get her clothes off- and, apparently, he got bonus points for creativity. Oh, mann. He hadn't thought of that, and yet it didn't seem strange that Isabelle would come up with that as a response.

"Aw,"Sinclair moved closer to her and the cat, his gaze falling to the cat,"I had a good thing going there, mister. You ruined it for me." He declared, suddenly producing a handful of chalk which he sprinkled on the cat. It might have been dangerous because the cat might not do so well, as far as respiratory functions, with a bunch of chalk in it's mouth. For now Sin was just amused by the fact that the white fur turned pink.

"I brought you purple, teal, or pink. Take your pick."Sinclair offered, looking up from the cat to Isabelle. He didn't reach for the chalk in his pocket, he just waited expectantly for her to tell him a color first. Then, as more of a second thought, he added in an explanation."We're welcoming the spring with colors- I can still surprise you, Isabelle."

{Fail. I blame it on being sick. I'll make up for it in a later post when I'm all better <3}

[Isabelle Amherst]

Isabelle watched with amusement as Sinclair sprinkled the pink chalk onto the cat and smiled as he offered her the assortment of colors. His statement that they would welcome the spring with colors and that he could still surprise her made her laugh softly and lightheartedly.

"You most definitely can," she agreed. It was one of the reasons she adored him. Not only could she predict the future, but she also found most people easily predictable in their words and their actions. It didn't take precognition to have a good idea of what a person might say before he or she said it. People just followed routines and patterns that way. But not Sinclair. That was what made him her favorite person to be around.

"And we're going to turn this place into the cover of a Dr. Seuss book," Isabelle added with a mischievous grin as she pictured the area covered in bright, vivid colors-- purple, teal, and pink. "But first, I want you to apologize to our company. I mean, I understand you throwing things at me, but what did the poor innocent cat ever do to you?" Isabelle insisted, her tone playful rather than serious. She wasn't turning into one of those "get mad over every little thing" girlfriends on him; she just wanted to see him talk to the cat so that she wouldn't be the only weirdo who did it. She held the cat between her two hands and extended her arms up toward Sinclair so that the cat's half pink, half white face was facing Sinclair, about a foot away from him, gazing directly at him with eyes as innocent as Isabelle's.

{Haha, all of your posts are still owning mine anyway. I've been on constant fail-mode lately.}

[Sinclair Gabriel]

"And I am proud of such an amazing accomplishment,"Sinclair stated. He said it like a joke, but he was was truly proud that he could manage to surprise even Isabelle in some way."But you aren't predictable, either, liebling. That's a very, very desirable thing in a person."

Dr. Seuss. He hadn't thought of that, but perhaps they would. That wouldn't be so bad. That was, of course, given they didn't get busted- Sinclair was smart enough to stay away from white chalk, to avoid accusations. And the chalk would wash away or dissolve eventually. And a little chalk never hurt anything- at least he had enough respect not to do it inside.

Sinclair raised an eyebrow anyway at her insistence that he apologize, kidding or not, it was a strange request for him. Then he looked down at the cat as she held it out to him.

"You want me to talk to the snowball?"Sinclair questioned incredulously, but without giving her time to answer, he went on to add,"Snowball here ruined my devious plan, and if that isn't a crime. . .I'm not saying sorry until he does. I do believe he's too full of himself to relent, and I'm just playing his game." Sinclair knew he didn't have to explain himself. He knew he could have just said 'no', and Isabelle could not force him. But he also knew that she deserved an answer, even if it wasn't a very serious one.

"I didn't take you as an animal person,"Sinclair offered,"You learn something new everyday. So what's his name?"

[Isabelle Amherst]

"Snowball, apparently," Isabelle replied as Sinclair asked about the cat's name. She turned the cat around so that it was facing her. "So you're the infamous Snowball, huh? You don't look very threatening for a Russian commie. Tell Napoleon and Squealer that they're jerks for sending poor Boxer to the horse slaughterer." Looking back at Sinclair, Isabelle smiled again. "I'm not an animal person, I'm a... whoever-or-whatever-happens-to-be-closest-to-me... person. And the cat was the only one around," she explained with a chuckle. "But now that you're here..."

Isabelle put the cat back down onto the ground and watched it wander away, marked with the pink chalk. "That's gonna take a while to fade," she commented absentmindedly, her eyes still on the leaving cat. Once it was gone, she returned her attention to Sinclair.

"I had a dream about you last night, Sinclair. Not a premonition, just a dream." Isabelle paused, trying oh so desperately to keep a straight face. She wanted to let his imagination wander a little bit before she actually told him what the dream was about. "It was the weirdest dream ever. I dreamed that you joined an evil Corporation. And you tried to sneak me in so that you could show me your dorm. And then we were about to have our first kiss, but then a little girl with blue skin ran in and threatened to kill me. But then the little smurf girl turned out to be your long lost sister, so she was gonna let me go. But then these twins showed up, and they were pure evil. So then some guy called the Dark Angel showed up, and he asked me if I knew anything about the Corporation. I didn't. So he said he didn't need me anymore, and he ordered the girl-twin to kill me. So she did." Isabelle finished her story with a sudden burst of laughter. The whole thing just sounded incredibly ridiculous, like the ending of a bad soap opera. "Crazy, right?" she asked him with an amused grin.

[Sinclair Gabriel]

Sinclair was ready to argue- he hadn't meant to name the cat, but it wasn't his fault the thing looked like a little white snowball! Before he decided what he intended on saying, or let alone got the words out, she made a reference to a book he'd been forced to read. Animal Farm. Of course. He chuckled as she spoke to the cat. Oh, boy. Snowball, at least in the story, was a devious figure. And he was upset about the Boxer incident. Isabelle was not off-base with her accusations, even though Snowball hadn't really done it. That Napoleon was worse than Snowball could ever be in Sinclair's mind. When Isabelle went on to explain that she wasn't an animal person, that surprised Sinclair. It sure seemed like she was an animal person with how she was acting with the cat. Then she did something that surprised Sinclair- she set the cat down. Sinclair smiled. Though he wouldn't insist on her devoting her attention to him, he had to admit that it felt good to feel important, to know she cared and to know she was interested in him. It wasn't like he didn't make her the center of things he did when he was around her, but it was just a great feeling when she did it for him, regardless. He wanted to move closer to her, to show some sort of affection. Though Isabelle was not the most affectionate type of person, Sinclair had a way of needing to be touching, to feel that connection. He wouldn't do it if she didn't want him to, of course. And so far she hadn't really objected to it. He hesitated only to find that she had more to say.

The beginning sentence- 'I had a dream about you', made his expression fall in an instant. A dream? Girls that could tell the future did not need to have dreams, especially not about him. He sort of thought it was bad news right off. She went on to say that it wasn't a premonition. Sinclair was not sure how that could be the case, but it was relieving all the same. He didn't actually give what her dream could be about anymore thought beyond 'it's probably bad news'. Instead, he silently, patiently, waited for her to go on. She went on to say it was weird, and oddly enough, that was reason for him to smile again. A small, uncertain smile, but a smile. After she got to explaining the dream, he had to agree. That was weird. As she went on, his smile slipped at some point. It sounded more like a nightmare than a dream.

"A girl. . .Killed you?"Sinclair echoed, his tone concerned. He forced another smile, adding,"What, was she jealous?" Then, without hesitating any longer, Sinclair stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Isabelle. He didn't like her story much, but he didn't really want to freak her out. Surely she knew the magnitude of it, and if she didn't want to stress about it, he wouldn't either. Maybe it was just a dream. It sounded far-fetched enough.

"I promise, I won't let any girl kill you."Sinclair's voice was soft and genuine as he spoke. He wished he could keep her close, wished he could stand there holding Isabelle forever. She couldn't be hurt nearly as easily if she was there in his arms. But alas, he couldn't do that. So he did let go of her after he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, dropping his arms back to his side."You have nothing to worry about."

{Anna, I know no one else gets that, but you crack me up XD}

[Isabelle Amherst]

{This post = complete and utter crap. Fair warning, my love.}

"Uh huh. With a knife," Isabelle responded to Sinclair's incredulity, her lips curved in a smile that seemed sadistic and demented since she was talking about her own hypothetical murder. His next question made her smile and chuckle as he put his arms around her. "Well, I don't really blame her. What girl wouldn't be jealous when I've got you?" As she said this, she stood on the tips of her toes, wrapped her arms around him as well, and gave him a tight squeeze while resting her head on his shoulder. Even though she wasn't the type of girl who needed to be cuddled every five seconds to be kept happy, and in fact she generally preferred not to be touched at all, it was nice when it came from Sinclair. He was just about the one person who was allowed to touch her on a regular basis.

Then he spoke again, and that was when she realized it. He was worried. He was always worried about her, from the moment he had pulled her away from that cliff to keep her from falling. She wanted to roll her eyes. She let him think of himself as her guardian because it made him feel better, but she wasn't a damsel in distress, and she didn't feel like she needed protection. She wished he wouldn't treat her like she was so helpless all of the time. Unfortunately, it was rather difficult to convince Sinclair of anything, and considering that she was a clutz who seemed to attract disaster everywhere she went, the odds of convincing him that he didn't need to look out for her were against her.

At the same time, she did realize how lucky she was to be with someone who cared enough about her to waste so much energy worrying all of the time, even if she did think it was unnecessary.


"Hey. Babe. I'm not worried," Isabelle assured Sinclair, letting a lighthearted laugh escape from her lips to show him how not-serious she was about the situation. "Unless you have a blue-skinned smurf sister that you're not telling me about, it was just a crazy dream. Psychics are allowed to have wild dreams too, y'know," she added in the same playful tone, running her hand gently along his cheek.

"Now, how about we give this place some color, hm?" Pulling her hand away from his face, Isabelle reached into his pouch of chalk and then threw a handful of the soft pink powder into the air, watching with a smile as it rained down and colored the grass below them. "Le beautiful," she agreed with a smirk. Reaching into the pouch again, she threw a tiny pinch of the ground-up chalk at Sinclair's face.

"We're even now, Rudolph" she teased, grinning with amusement at his newly bright pink nose.

[Sinclair Gabriel]

Oh, but Sinclair did have a sister he didn't mention. She wasn't blue (because he wouldn't have seen her at twelve/thirteen-ish when her powers manifested, even if by some power she did get the blue tint), but she was younger than him. Now, his sister was anything but devious, at least in Sinclair's mind. She was the perfect, adorable, sweet sister. She'd never hurt anyone, as far as he was concerned. So threatening Isabelle? No way. Maybe she was right and it was just a crazy dream. He decided he didn't need to tell her about his sister now, anyway.

"I guess you're right."Sinclair agreed with a smile. "I'll try not to worry. It's probably nothing. I have freaky dreams all the time- like, when I'm swimming in yellow jello? Eww, horrible nightmare. It's wayy to sour to eat, that jello, and then I just gotta sit there wishing it was some other flavor until I wake up. Horrible way to spend a night."

Sinclair smiled as she threw the chalk, and also as she mimicked him in saying it was beautiful. Perhaps it was, but it was nothing compared to her. Sinclair decided not to voice that discovery, however. It was looking back down at her that got him hit in the face with chalk. And the actual puff of the chalk hitting? It was an interesting feeling that surprised Sin, that left him silent, considering, at least for a moment. Once the moment had passed, he grinned.

"Oh, not even close,"Sin objected, removing one of the two bags he had stashed away. It happened to be the purple one, though that wasn't intentional.

"Next time, I'm bringing white chalk,"Sin added as he took a bit of the purple. Then he seemed to think better of it, because he dropped the chalk back into the bag and offered both the pink and purple to Isabelle- her hair was already pink and purple, so it wasn't likely to show up, at least not in his mind, where as on him, it'd likely show up fairly well. His logic of offering her two was to free up his hands, and plus, if she wanted to, he would willingly let her have them even if it was uneven. He really wasn't one to care, and it was Isabelle. Or, if she chose just one, he could put the other away until one of them ran out or until someone interrupted them. Either way, Sin wasn't worried about it.

{*officially has this thing with emphasizing certain words at the moment* I need to work on that. And my mom didn't wake me up, so I guess I'm not going today, which is good because I didn't wanna go to P.E. feeling like this. I was like,"Um, you didn't wake me up," and she was like,"I thought you needed to sleep," and then the subject of school/sleeping was dropped and she left to take my great grandma to the doctor. Heh, I guess I am spending Spring Break with you, after all.}

[Isabelle Amherst]

"Yellow... jello," Isabelle repeated, arching an eyebrow slightly in amusement. She then laughed at his unfortunate jello night terror. "That sucks. I'm sorry. At least you weren't swimming in apple sauce. Now that would be awful." Isabelle scrunched her face at the thought of apple sauce. Even the memory of it was disgusting. "Whoever decided that it would be a good idea to grind up apples and feed it to innocent Kindergartners should be force-fed yellow jello. It's only fair," Isabelle decided, smiling at the thought of justice being served to the cruel inventor of her least favorite food.

"White chalk... would be fun, as long as we could manage to avoid getting caught acting like idiots while holding plastic bags containing white powder. That could be lead to quite some suspicion," Isabelle joked. When he offered her the pink and purple, Isabelle looked contemplatively back and forth between the two only to decide that she didn't want either of them. She recalled that he'd said he had pink, purple, and teal. Teal was her favorite color (the color of water, the color of her birthstone... the color of his hair), so without asking for permission, she reached right into his sweatshirt pocket where he'd retrieved the purple and pulled out the third pouch-- it was teal, as she had expected, and it was exactly what she wanted.

"Merci, mon chéri," she thanked with a wink, even though technically he hadn't offered her the teal at all. Reaching into the pouch, she tossed another handful of chalk into the air. Again, the colorful powder rained down, some of it landing on the grass below them, some of it falling upon their hair, skin, and clothes. "Dr. Seuss would be so proud," she commented with a satisfied smile. "Together, we'll color the world. One bag of powdered chalk at a time," she added playfully, throwing another pinch of teal chalk at Sinclair's shirt.

[Sinclair Gabriel]

Sinclair had a thing for jello. He wasn't sure why, he just did. He often dreamed he was suspended in it, like he had no control, he was just suspended. It was a puppet feeling. But to be fair he did feel better to know that something good was surrounding him, even if he couldn't stop or change anything. The jello was worth being stuck in, sometimes. If it was lemon jello, no, then things were bad. Perhaps it was his subconscious at work, and if it was, it would not have surprised him.

"Or being chased by electric staplers,"Sinclair offered with a mischievous grin. Apple sauce didn't bother him, though he couldn't say it was his favorite thing in the world.

"Ah, but getting in trouble is the entire reason for doing it. You have it all wrong, Isabelle. If you're not getting in trouble, you're not having enough fun. And if you're not getting in trouble, you can never find out just what kind of person you're with. You know, haven't you heard that saying about friends being the people sitting right beside you in a jail cell, saying that was fun? You look for those people- partners in crime."Sinclair argued,"I wouldn't have white chalk just because I liked the color." Surely Isabelle knew that. But he wanted to point it out anyway.

Sinclair stared at Isabelle, shocked by the fact that she'd bypassed his offered chalk in favor of the one he hadn't shown her. He knew he'd mentioned it, but he hadn't given her that color as a choice. Once she thanked him, he finally smiled at her, now amused by the event. He sealed the pink bag by holding the purple one with three of his five fingers and sealing it with his thumb and first finger. Then he put the sealed bag into his pocket, ready to use the purple.

"You're interesting,"Sinclair pointed out after she threw chalk at him. It wasn't as funny when chalk was being thrown at him, so he was quick to draw a little of his purple chalk into his palm.

"Next time I'm going to wait for you to grind this up with me- it took for ever."Sinclair stated with a laugh, amused by the falling chalk. "The world could use a little coloring- it was so worth it," Except, of course, when he found his hair suddenly entirely teal instead of just streaked with a line of teal. Then he might not be laughing. Oh well. He took the chalk he'd gathered in his hand and tossed it up into the air, mimicking Isabelle. Overall, this still seemed like a good idea.