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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 6, 2010 23:44:58 GMT -5
Days, Quinn thought to herself, it had been days since she'd run into Markise's alleged boyfriend, Amethyst no, Ambros, no Apollo, she sighed as she decided she really didn't care what his name was. She was worried about Lyric. She hadn't seen him around lately, and it was closing in on the concert.
In fact, the concert was tonight, but she hadn't been able to find him anywhere, and she'd been looking. What would she tell him, how would she bring it up that whatever his name was had said Lyric was dying. She knew how sensitive he could be about things, how on edge he was.
The goal of the concert was to give him something good to look forward to, something they could do together. Her fingers rested on the tiny ball Jory had said might mean Lyric liked her as something more than just a friend.
Her hand settled against her bag as she left the Greenhouse, her work there for the afternoon finished. She had gone and gotten something besides the ticket she'd taken to carrying on her person, something she hoped would help Lyric edge away from the things that hurt so much.
She rounded the corner of the Greenhouse, the back side that faced towards the Forbidden Forest, almost no one came this way, but she was hoping to slip into the forest for a while before she tried one last time to find Lyric.
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Post by Trent Frey on Mar 6, 2010 23:54:57 GMT -5
He'd intended to hide behind the greenhouses and smoke, but after a while he'd gotten bored of it and wanted something more. He'd never run into anyone here before, though he'd heard people inside, in class or skiving off between classes. He hadn't thought a thing of relieving his boredom by dipping into his box. Business was going good now, and he could afford to feed his habit.
He was relaxed, sitting propped against the glass wall with one knee up, an arm resting against it. He held his wooden dragon, bouncing it now and then as his mind wandered through different scenes. He didn't really hear anyone rounding the building, and if he had, he wouldn't have cared. He'd already put everything away but the dragon, and he was comfortable.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 7, 2010 0:00:10 GMT -5
When Quinn turned around the corner, she was more than a bit surprised to see Lyric. "Hey, Lyric." She let a soft smile light her face as she settled her fingers through her hair. "You know, when I look for you, I can't find you, but when I stop looking. I find you." She slowly walked up to him, wondering if she would be able to tell, wondering if he would know that she'd talked to that boy. How was she going to do this, how could she ask or expect it, when she'd asked for no expectations.
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Post by Trent Frey on Mar 7, 2010 0:16:02 GMT -5
Lyric looked up at Quinn and gave a soft smile, his dragon stopping to hover by his knee. "Hey," he said. "You looked for me?" He wasn't hiding from her, but he'd never told her about the shop, had he? He liked to hide, liked to be alone, and that meant not hanging out in the same place all the time.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 7, 2010 0:21:51 GMT -5
"Yeah, I looked for you." She moved over to where Lyric was, her fingers smoothing over the skirt she'd chosen to wear today, before she sat down on the ground next to Lyric. "I like spending time with you." She just wished more of it could be like it was in the moments just before the box came out, or the moments just after she had pulled him off of the tower, the honesty, the truth that existed there. Quinn could almost see a part of Lyric shining through, the Lyric that she had never met, but Jory had, and she always felt jealous that he had.
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Post by Trent Frey on Mar 7, 2010 0:38:33 GMT -5
"You want something?" Lyric asked. He didn't move just yet, too comfortable to put forth the effort of digging out his box if he didn't have to. Besides, he didn't really need her money as much as he used to. He looked at her vaguely, his eyes not focusing entirely, though his mind hadn't drifted elsewhere yet.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 7, 2010 0:42:15 GMT -5
Quinn shook her head, "I don't want anything Lyric." How did she approach the issue, right out, quietly. Before Lyric everything had been easy, a quick conversation and everything she wanted to say was on the table. Now she was treading softly, not wanting to hurt someone who had been hurt enough in his life. "I met someone the other day, who told me that the stuff in your box makes people sick."
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Post by Trent Frey on Mar 7, 2010 0:45:10 GMT -5
Lyric blinked in confusion, then dragged his gaze away, looking out at the part of the forest that straggled nearby. "Skiving Snackboxes make people sick," he said. "The stuff in my box makes people feel good or they wouldn't want it." His eyes narrowed as he looked aside at her. "Who did you tell about my box?" he asked.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 7, 2010 0:49:52 GMT -5
Quinn looked down at her fingers, trying not to braid tiny rows into her hair, "I didn't tell anyone anything about your box." She looked up to Lyric, "I know how important it is to you. It was a guy, blonde hair. He said he was Markise's boyfriend. Markise is a friend of mine." She looked back down at her hands. "He said you were sick. He said he knew because he used to do that. I just thought...it was to forget."
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Post by Trent Frey on Mar 7, 2010 0:57:43 GMT -5
Lyric's brows drew together. "It is to forget," he said, his voice sharpening defensively. "And I'm not sick." He felt the best he'd ever felt, and he felt it whenever he wanted to feel it. He wanted to feel it now, so he looked away from Quinn, resting his head back against the glass wall of the greenhouse. He closed his eyes in defiance of anything else she might say about it.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 7, 2010 1:03:11 GMT -5
Quinn looked at her hands again, "when I went up to the tower the other day Lyric, my heart stopped when I saw you up there." Her fingers tucked the stupid marble back under her shirt, "I told you I had no expectations from you, that I would be here to help you. I still want that but..." She sighed as she looked over at him, "I want you to live. If there are no consequences, and he's lying to me, tell me, but I've spent the past few nights worrying that I got you off the tower, only to lose you to something else." Did forgetting come with a price?
*edits for 500!*
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Post by Trent Frey on Mar 7, 2010 1:23:12 GMT -5
"I don't want help," Lyric said. "There's nothing wrong with me, and if I want to jump I will, nothing's going to stop me." He didn't bother opening his eyes, the manufactured relaxation was still keeping him from getting pissed, but it would only work for so long. He still thought about jumping, he just hadn't gotten around to trying it again.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 7, 2010 1:28:24 GMT -5
Maybe direct confrontation wasn't working out so well, "I'm offering a friendly hand. And I don't think either of us should fake ourselves out. There's something wrong with me, and there's something wrong with you. It doesn't make us wrong. It just means we have some issues." She leaned her head back against the greenhouse, "sometimes I need to forget so much, that I wouldn't mind the consequences."
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Post by Trent Frey on Mar 7, 2010 1:37:12 GMT -5
Lyric didn't respond to that. Yeah, there was something wrong with him, did she really need to rub in that she knew? He didn't like thinking that she knew him that well. Jory knew, and Jory hated him now. Do you care if she hates you? he asked himself. Not really. It would just go with everything else in his life that sucked, and everyone else that hated him. There were things that were deeply wrong with him, but the drugs didn't have anything to do with it. The drugs were a cure, not the disease.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Mar 7, 2010 1:41:19 GMT -5
Quinn dug in her bookbag for something, pulling out a small camera that she'd bought since the last time she'd seen Lyric. "I was kind of hoping, that you'd teach me how to use this. I thought it would be fun to learn, after I saw yours, but I can't seem to figure out how to use it." She held the camera up to her face, one finger over a button that appeared to take the pictures, and another finger over a small rectangle that if she had known anything about cameras she would know that it would result in the picture of a thumb.
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