( THIS PROVINCIAL LIFE ! ) OPEN

[CASPIAN DEVERAUX]

I PICK THEM FLOWER PETALS OFF
AND THEN I WATCH THEM DROP
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ROUND AND ROUND
CASPIAN and ANYBODY.
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A perfect blue sky framed the ever burning sun - the towering oaks and pines swayed softly in the light breeze, leaves flustered in its presence. A figure emerged from the gates to the park, hands in his pockets, earphones blaring out tunes into his ears, Belle, from Beauty and the Beast, if you’re asking - donning a simple red chequered shirt, with a white tee underneath, dark blue jeans and his usual blue converse. Informally dressed, Caspian made his way to his usual spot underneath the largest oak by the pond -with its magnificent form reflected into the crystal waters - an exact image of the world above, or perhaps even finer.

Taking a seat on the slightly damp grass, he looked around - the park at this time in the morning was desolate which was a bit of shame, he always hoped that at 7:03 in the morning someone might pop by and accidentally stumble upon Caspian. The air felt wet and cool, the morning sun beginning to gently radiate its casual heat - the birds chirping as dawn swept across the park. Despite the beauty, the tranquillity that emitted from the park, it became rather tiresome, repetitive to the point that it lost all sense of its past splendour, and the sugary almond croissant and black starbucks coffee that he casually munched on seemed just the same. Life had become a loop and Caspian didn’t like it.

And those funky dreams he’d been having recently – the roaring waves, the cascading downpours or rain, talking to dolphins...all funny stuff really. He remembered from psychology class that all dreams had subconscious meaning, but he couldn’t possibly deviate any sense from them, they just seemed to be flashes, as though it was a trip to the past of what had been seen before. The towering columns and magnificent temples always made him presume some classical era, and with his expert knowledge gained from his parents themselves, he’d pinpoint it to Greece. Most definitely.
He sighed, and shoved the last of the croissant in his mouth, got up and tipped the rubbish into the bin.

Wondering whether there was any point in staying here or going home to bed was most certainly an option but he decided that for one last time, the park would remain a place of rest, and this was its farewell, starting from tomorrow he’d have breakfast in bed. Fate had its ways and he was sure that this may be a slight twist in his destiny, or it was the route he was on course for. He’d have the butler fetch a nice vegetarian good old English breakfast with extra omelette; he’d kill for one right now.

His iPod was now playing Taylor Swifts ‘Love Story’ – how he’d kill for life to be a fairytale, so messed up and gothic but so perfect – not the beautiful and wonderful Disney story that he adored for where was the fun in that? He sighed again, and sat watching the ducks frolic in the pond. Usually that’d make him chuckle, but this time he couldn’t look the ducks in the eye.

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'tagged open for anyone!
'word count 533
'listening to Hey Stephen - Taylor Swift

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[NORA LAMBERT.]

nobody speaks my name ,
i'm just another blister in the mouth of shame ,

Nora loved the outdoors because it helped her relax and forget the problems that remained at home, and that was the reason she was out so early. Her mother had had another bad night and Nora had had to help her into bed and watch her for a while to make sure she didn't choke on her own sick. She'd called Travis, but she expected her was busy with Poppy. As a result, she'd spent her entire evening trying to sort her mess of a mother out before finally getting her to drop off to sleep at six o'clock that morning. She was a troubled young female, but she tried to avoid looking it. After showering quickly and dressing for the day, Nora had checked in on her mother before leaving the house. It was too much of an effort, and now she was pacing through the park in silence.

Short wasn't even a word to describe Nora and as a result she always wore heels, however knowing full well she'd be spending her time on the grass she didn't. Now as she surveyed the world around her, she felt smaller than ever, especially with huge oak tress surrounding the entire park. Despite the light breeze the female wasn't concerned with her very short hem line and the prospect that it might blow up. On the contrary, she was very distracted in her own thoughts and her fingers were up at her plunging necklace, twisting and turning the sea shells and animals around her neck. It was a nervous habit, having been told off for playing with her hair constantly as a child by her mother she had resorted to playing with whatever jewellery she had at the time.

Shuffling across the grass, one of her hands hung limply at her side as she circled the lake, her eyes gazing into it's deep dark waters, barely a ripple in sight. There was ducks, swimming in and out, padding around and quacking merrily, but the park still felt so empty and tranquil, almost as if you could cut the silence. In the distance she saw a familiar figure sat at the foot of a tree, his floppy hair and muscular stature reminding her of someone familiar, at least. Nora snapped out of her mindless trance and began racking her brains for a name, yet none came to the front of her mind as she edged nearer and nearer. The closer she got the more she hoped it was someone she hadn't done something ridiculous in front of, but this couldn't be promised.

Chewing her lip now, the face came into focus slightly and Nora raised a hand to her brow, squinting to get a closer look. Yes! He was someone she knew.. but barely. He was went to her school and was in her year, but she never really spoke to him - he was a popular kid and she was someone who ran in so many circles she had lost count, yet her run ins with the more popular kids in school hadn't been pleasant near the start of her school career so now, at seventeen, she kept well away. The more she thought about him the sooner it occurred to her that he was thte posh English kid that she had heard about. Caspaaaaah the friendly ghoooost, she thought to herself, quickly correcting it to Caspian. In her head, she gave everyone nicknames, but in her head they stayed.

"Hey, you", she smiled as she reached him, stood maybe a foot or two in front of him. Waving slightly, she pulled at the hem line of her dress. Knowing he was so god damn rich made her uncomfortable, feeling very underdressed and actually like she looked a little bit too naked to be speaking to someone like him. "You go to my school, don't you? You're Caspian?", she asked, however it was more like she was telling him it was true more than anything else.

She felt a little bad for having prejudged that he was an arsehole like the rest of his sort of group, but she couldn't help it - coming from a less than wealthy family, she was used to being disgruntled about cash and having angry feelings towards those who were considerably well off. She felt cheated, like they owed her something, but she was determined not to let than tarnish her first ever conversation with the English boy. After all, she wanted to hear his super cute British accent. "Sorry to be blunt.. it's just how I am", she smirked, realising how she'd basically told him facts about himself. Dumbass, she thought to herself, hands on hips.





tag Caspian, ofc c:
word count 783 of waffle.
listening to crazier , t.swizzle
clothes wham bam thank you mister
comments nadaaa. it was open, nora needs a post 3:
credits tinypic for the graphic up tooop.
progress doneroos.