Change, Change, Change [Open]

[KATRINA ♥ WILCOTT]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i1081.photobucket.com/albums/j348/SimiXiamara/TemplateStuff/PurpleRoseWallpaper2-1.jpg), border: solid #8E0886 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] What a shame we all became Such fragile, broken things Our memory remains, just a tiny spark- - - - - - - - - ► I gave it all my oxygen Katrina was, in one word, bored. Ugh. She hated that word. Bored bored bored bored bored. It had such a horrible sound to it. Not only that, but it sounded like something you'd find in a classroom. Blackboard, whiteboard, just boredom in general. Hah. That was funny. Kind of. Boredom. It made sense to her, anyway, if it didn't for anyone else. And that was okay, because no one else had to hear it. Just her, in her own little mind. Anyone who came in would surely be scarred for life. Either scarred, or just plain confused from the sheer number of thoughts in her head. It wasn't anything bad in her mind; no, nothing of the sort. She never had a bad thought. Well, okay, hardly ever. But the contents of her thoughts could be a little... weird sometimes. Yes, weird. We'll use that word for now. But, yes. Anyway. Boredom was (quite obviously) something that the Elemental wasn't quite used to. Ever since she'd been given her first paintball gun, she'd been running around with it, practising on walls if there weren't any decent people around to shoot. That being said, she would only shoot someone with a paintball if they deserved it. If someone had, say, cheated on their partner or been picking on an unfortunate first year, and Katrina were to hear about it, then the culprit would have a few nice bruises to show for their misdemeanors. Oh, and of course, those who crossed Katrina herself were punished. No one had dared do that for a long time, though. She was pretty safe. But then, she'd just moved to Elysian Island a couple of weeks ago. The people she'd met were pretty nice so far, but that didn't mean that there weren't dangers. This was an island full off supernaturals; how could there not be dangers? There were vampires and demons, just waiting for their next meals to roll in. There were witches and faeries, who didn't seem dangerous on the face of it, but she was pretty sure their magic could do some damage if intended to do so. There were the weres and shifters, who could do some pretty awful things if they so pleased. And then, there was the rest of the supernatural population that Katrina was too lazy to list. She knew that she was included in that bracket, though. So there was no use being judgmental of supes when she was one herself. Besides, she had her powers to protect herself, if need be. Fire was a very, very useful tool, on occasion. ...Actually, make that all the time. That could have bee her inner pyro talking, but Katrina absolutely adored the light and the warmth that fire threw for people. It was so amaing to look at; the way the colors shifted and blended, the dim glow that it produced, the fiery yellows, oranges and red leaving a trail in the air. t was just so, incredibly beautiful. She wondered, sometimes, if other people fel the same way because, well... more and more people were scared of fire nowadays. Fire wasn't something to be feared, though; it was something to be awed. Wait. No. Bad. Daydreaming was bad. Especially while she was on the job. What if someone had come up to her while she'd been thinking? A) they would have been annoyed with her for making them wait, and B) She'd be annoyed with them for interrupting her train of thought. Which wouldn't really have been their fault, but that was just how she thought. It wasn't her fault that she was a bit of a drama queen; it was her father's fault. He'd passed her the theatrics gene. She could have sworn she had some other disorder that caused the dramatics to go with her ADHD... Just before she was about to o off on another daydream, she managed to stop herself as a customer approached. She gave them her normal bright, cheerful grin, her grey eyes ablaze with delight at gettng someone to talk to. She didn't care if she had to serve them or not; she was just glad that she didn't have to be bored for very long. She'd have something to do now. "Hi!" she exclaimed chirpily. "What can I get you?" So let the flames begin TAGS: OPEN! , WORDS: 740 , LYRICS: LET THE FLAMES BEGIN - PARAMORE template made by emrysdaelan @ caution 2.0 keep credit or angry badgers will nom your face off!

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[MARGO ♥ REINHART]

Why Margo had decided to consume all the calories she had burned that morning, Margo would never find out. After running everyday in the morning, Margo was used to not eating or drinking anything that would throw off her balance. She wasn't a health nut, but after a unconscious routine was built it was kind of difficult for her to burn it down, so if Margo had something like say a coffee with a generous amount of vanilla in it, it would throw her off. But who cared about that?

Margo had been in a particularly pissed off mood when she realized that her life on the island had been starting to resemble her life off the island. No one was talked to her. Everyone avoided the rather dangerous aura she held around herself. While it was up to protect herself, she was still annoyed no one dare probe the bubble around her. A life alone. She moved to restart, maybe it had been in a dangerous spot with all the supernaturals, but she wanted to restarted. She wanted to have at least one person she could rely on and avoid hitting the replay button and start hitting the forward button.

Whatever, I'm going running at night anyway. She thought, entering the Starbucks in a daring attempt to get her mind off things. Digging in her bag for cash, she slammed her foot into the counter in a way that was anything but grateful as the cashier asked her for her order.

"Ah, uh, I don't know." She said looking up from glaring at her foot. Her eyebrows came together in confusion when she saw the girl. She was kind of like a puppy. "Are all cashiers this happy? I guess I'm doing something wrong at my job." She smiled a little, feeling like she missed some cashier convention and took out a twenty and handed it to her. "Vanilla latte. I guess. I'm sure that by my entrance you can tell I don't get coffee much."