I'll Pretend You're Not Here...{Open}

[Kay Savage]

I believe that we all fall down sometimes

~You Can't Take Me, I'm Free~

"Speaking" - Thinking - <<ooc>> Sitting across from the fountain and elaborate statues was a girl. She wasn't the kind of girl who would stand out too much. Her short, dark red hair was a curly mess as usual- looking like it hadn't seen a brush for months. She was just about average weight for a teenage girl, perhaps a little more. Even as she was sitting, it was obvious she wasn't too tall, though she wasn't really short. Her clothing was dark, making her look like a shadow in the background. Today, her black tee featured a circular logo with black and white- Deadpool.  In her lap was a sketchpad, open to a blank page and on her plain face was a frown that reached her dark green eyes. She chewed her lower lip, brow furrowed. In one pale, thin hand, she held a mechanical pencil, which she tapped against the page. Her eyes scanned the fountain and the area around it as she searched for inspiration. There was none to be found that she hadn't already drawn in her time in Rainy City. So she started with a circle. Her hand moved in the simple motion over and over again until there was a messy shape in the centre of the page. She frowned again and stared at the page as if she expected the drawing to appear all on its own. She didn't take any note of anything else, just silently willed her still hand to move and do something productive. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. "Go outside," they told me! "It'll be fun!"  Yet here she sat, doing the exact same thing she would've done at home. Absolutely nothing. ||words:282||tags:||

[Brandon Doyle]

(I'll go ahead and reply if that is alright ;o;)

Have you ever tried walking a stocky bull dog? Well, rather, being walked by a stocky bull dog? Scott was a burly little fellow and Doyle could honestly say he was not. He had three dogs and he had to walk them all separately but they all had different needs in walks which were as followed; Scott likes to go go go. He went for distance. Isaac didn't like to go alone, usually opting for very short walks unless he is either with Scott or his borzoi friend Derek. Derek was probably the easiest as he could go alone or with all of them. Near or far. It never really mattered. So he had a tendency to talk the most difficult alone and first then go for a brief walk with the other two. Price of having large dogs, he supposed. His parents did a lot of the walking these days but he found himself picking up the leash more than he used to. He was still new in this town and despite his hatred for people he found himself in public more and more, just trying to get a feel for this place.

He had found himself at what appeared to be the outside of a mall, which he would have to put in his mental GPS for later; malls usually promised mall goodies such a pretzels and even better jobs willing to hire a tired looking teenager who didn't like anybody. His mind began to wander off idly, remembering his past jobs at malls that left a bad taste in his mouth but nonetheless a job was something to occupy himself. He didn't really need the money; his parents were really well off. His father was in the military and his mom was a doctor. Money had never been an issue. Independence, however, was one. While his thoughts blazed around the past he found himself tripping rather clumsily over seemingly nothing, but as he was balancing himself to avoid any actual falling he appeared to have lost track of the leash that had been in his hand. He flinched as he heard the claws of Scott pick up furiously on the ground as he bolted away from him.

He was never afraid of the dog hurting anybody, nor was he really afraid of him running in to traffic or in to the mall itself; he was better trained than any of that. What he did worry about, however, was him tackling somebody and licking them while they scream about the big scary bull dog and him having to say he was sorry like it was even that big of a deal. Feigning that sort of apology was simply not in him. The idea of him having to pretend to be friendly for even a moment to avoid somebody calling animal control on his dog was just not what he had planned. After his moment of cringing he began to chase after the dog. Scott seemed to had found himself by a fountain, harassing some girl. He had a tendency to try and grab some attention from the next person he saw. He was a really sweet dog, really. Much unlike his owner who was more prickly than a cactus could ever be. The dog was wagging his tail and trying to muzzle his face into her hand with reckless abandon as Doyle caught up to him and grabbed the leash. He wasn't going to pretend like he was as fast as this dog.

"Scott" he scolded the dog quietly who heard him very clearly and trotted back over to him and sat down at his feet, tail wagging still as he panted loudly. "Hi, there. Sorry about the nuzzle assault" he quickly apologized, not terribly invested in any conversation but he had to play friendly, didn't he? His mom had actually been complaining about that a lot lately. How he needed to be friendly. "He is a bit of a lover" he joked with a dry tone he wished he hadn't had now that he thought about it. He feigned a smile. He was trying. He was honestly trying and that disturbed him to a point.

[Kay Savage]

I believe that we all fall down sometimes

~You Can't Take Me, I'm Free~

"Speaking" - Thinking - <<ooc>> <<That's perfectly okay by me. I'm just noticing that I seem to be the most inexperienced roleplayer here. Lol>> Her pencil had just started to move on the page again, adding a long, thin muzzle to the circle. She was really quite surprised when the dog approached her. For as long as she could remember, she'd been the kind of girl who'd approach the neighbourhood strays and take care of them, no matter how vicious they seemed. Needless to say, the nuzzling bull dog was nothing. She managed a faint smile and scratched a finger along the dog's muzzle. "Hi there," she said, a hint of laughter at the edge of her tone. Her voice seemed almost a little too deep for a teenage girl. There was a new voice and the dog left. She looked up, tilting her head ever so slightly. She rubbed the darkness beneath her eyes as she considered his words. She snorted slightly, like she was attempting a short laugh. The friendliness shown to the dog was gone now. "It's no big deal," she responded a little blankly.  She flipped the cover of her sketchbook as if she held precious secrets inside, but was trying to be casual about it. She tilted her head back a little, an odd way of gesturing to Scott. "I can tell." She looked slightly amused.  Her dark green eyes scanned the person before her, curious and not at all interested at the same time. She couldn't recall ever seeing him. Not to say that was particularly unusual, since she'd never really cared much to know anyone. She could guess that he was doing the same thing as her- playing nice. Putting on a mask when he didn't really care. She blinked slowly. She'd rather he be a total jerk to her, honestly. "Who're you, then? Can't say I've seen you before." She made it quite obvious she didn't really care, just wanted any forth-coming small talk out of the way. ||words:312||tags:||

[Brandon Doyle]

The older teen listened to the younger teenager with a faked interest but as he read her tones, being as observant as he was, he found himself a little interested. Not in any weird way but she seemed every shade of do not want that he was simply made of. He was made of antisocial quills and inside of him was nothing but acid and from her tones she seemed to match that with disinterest. And that was exciting. Maybe it was his lack of sleep or his fading mania that made him want to launch into conversation as if either of them cared which he felt at this point that they probably didn't. 

"Doyle" he finally said "my name is Doyle" he added. He looked at Scott who looked rather smug with himself. Well, as smug as a dog could look about anything at all. Maybe the dog and his mother were in it together. His eyes looked around before looking back down at her. He tilted his head "are you drawing a dog?" he asked with a tone that was boredly curious if that was even a tone. It was now. He didn't want to pry but there was something about dog art that caught his attention. He had been an animal artist for years, so he could at least relate to the occasional animal artist. "Are you on deviantart?" he asked, still sounding bored. He didn't really mean to sound like that most of the time, but he usually did. His parents hated talking to him. He sounded cold and distant no matter who he was talking to. Except perhaps his dogs. And even then he did it sometimes. He was just... distant. Always distant and impossible to reach out to. Like he was drifting. 

And he was also tired. He closed his eyes longer than a blink and then opened them after a short yawn. "I have one" he said "buzzsaws" he said waving to himself. Buzzsaws was actually the name of a really popular animal artist on DeviantArt. His art was always darker toned and had a habit of including self harm, tragedy, and a lot of gore and sadder tones in his works. But he was also known for being very aloof an kindof blunt when approached and was deemed unfriendly by the community but nonetheless he had thousands of watchers anyway. Never posted any journals, though. And when he did they were only about commissions or delays in art due to moving or what have you. He always assumed that nobody knew him, though. He rarely meets people who know who he is except in his last school in Chicago where he found somebody favoriting a lot of his works in the school cafeteria on his laptop. Which made him uncomfortable. But since it was only really the one handling he never thought twice about throwing in the screen name if it was relevant to the conversation which was very rare.

[Kay Savage]

I believe that we all fall down sometimes

~You Can't Take Me, I'm Free~

"Speaking" - Thinking - <<ooc>> She nodded slightly as he gave his name. She planted her elbow into her thigh and rested her chin on her fist, hunching forward. "Kay," she responded. At his question, her teeth dug into her lower lip and the other hand twitched toward her sketchbook. "Yeah," she responded. A wolf, but...whatever. The next of what he was saying seemed to rush at her ever-confused thoughts. Her eyes narrowed slightly, not in an angry or annoyed way, but in a way that said she was trying to process it. "No," she said. "I haven't got a DeviantART. Which means-" she yawned slightly "-I have no idea what you're talking about." She sat back up as straight as she cared to (slouching was a bad habit of hers). She scratched the back of her neck with long, pointed, black fingernails. "I don't really like showing around my artwork." Though you don't seem to have a problem with it, part of her couldn't help but snap. Another part of her then reprimanded her. She closed her eyes for a half-second, trying to rearrange her thoughts. ||words:183||tags:||

[Brandon Doyle]

(short reply again. My brain just isn't feeling writing at the moment. Not going to lie.)
Doyle found himself less and less interested as this conversation went on. He was questioning why he had even bothered to try in the first place, but he never bothered to read much into what he did too much since he never seemed to get anywhere. His hands found their way into his pockets of his hoodie, his hand still holding on to the leash as Scott wandered in circles without leaving the spot he was in. He should be getting back, really. He did have other dogs waiting for their walks and he was getting pretty tired of this scene pretty quickly. He didn't like people and this was getting pretty boring.

"I don't really see it that way" he stated simply. He never saw it so much as sharing his art but then again he was more or less thrilled about the idea of showing it off. He was a bit of a show off, admittedly. His narcissism only existed in his art work though you would never know. You would more likely assume he was just some really depressed adult. Which wasn't really the case. He could be depressed but over all he was just bitter. 

"Well this meeting has just been the tits but I have more dogs that need attention and I should probably get to it" He stated simply "not that you aren't the most interesting teenager I've seen so far." His tone was heavy with sarcasm and he felt a small grin tug its way on to his features as he stepped back a couple steps. "Come on, Scott" he said, urging the dog to follow. But instead Scott whimpered briefly before dropping down on the ground in front of the girl. He scowled at the dog. "Or not,"  

[Kay Savage]

I believe that we all fall down sometimes

~You Can't Take Me, I'm Free~

"Speaking" - Thinking - <<ooc>> <<It's alright. Lol. My brain is hating me.>> She had pretty much spaced out and was now locked in her head, worrying. Her eyes were sensitive to sunlight. And- thanks to her mother's genes- her pupils were unnaturally large, which only made matters worse. Not to mention she was white as white could be and she could already feel a burn beginning on the backs of her arms. And then she looked up at him. Huh? He was walking away. She titled her head and flashed her signature peace-sign. "And I need to get inside, the sun is kicking my butt," she replied quietly. She had started to put her legs beneath her when the dog returned. She couldn't help but laugh. "Oh. Hi, Scott," she said, smiling. She had to admit that this dog was the best thing that had happened her her all week. She was still getting over the fact that her stepdad still had her pup (and only friend) several states away. With a smile, she patted the dog atop its head. Looks like I've made a new friend after all, she thought. She stole a glance up at Doyle. ||words:186||tags:||

[Brandon Doyle]

"Sunglasses and hoodies were perhaps my greatest investments" Doyle stated. Mind you, he was always cold anyway. So wearing a hoodie didn't put him in uncomfortable places. It put him where everybody else was normally. Even when it was hot out, like it seemed to be. His skin was prone to burning so either he went with a hoodie or long sleeves... Or, you know, wear sun block. But that wasn't something he was willing to do. It was way too much rubbing and the smell was not something he wanted to smell like all day. So he would always vouch for hooded sweatshirts. His eyes were always really tired looking and sensitive to sunlight for it so the sun glasses also served a great purpose.

"You know, I have two more dogs. Maybe someday I will bump into you again with them. I can't walk Scott with the rest of them. Pulls too much" he said. Talking about his dogs made talking easy and he had a passionate tone about it. His love for dogs were what made his parents not worry about him. Couldn't be a sociopath and love dogs that much, right? And boy did he love them. Everything about them. They were always willing to listen to your bull and they were always excited to see you and it was the most precious thing in the world and he had a soft spot for puppy eyes.

He imagined he felt about his dogs like most people felt about their kids. He was proud of them when they passed their training classes and celebrates their birthdays with them and played with them and spent hours of his life teaching them new tricks and useless skills. Well, mostly. Scott seemed a little more resistant of the basic commands. He was fine when they were alone but the moment they were around somebody else he could drool all over, he could ignore Doyle for days. Speaking of the pile of squish, he was affectionately nuzzling the new girl like he had been reunited with her after years and she was his closest most personal friend. It was almost adorable. And by almost he meant entirely.

[Kay Savage]

I believe that we all fall down sometimes

~You Can't Take Me, I'm Free~

"Speaking" - Thinking - <<ooc>> "I'm not a fan of either, sadly," she remarked. Though she loved being outside, it was usually only at night or when it was raining. She continued talking softly to the dog and scratching either his ears or neck. She chuckled. "Well, if he's the worst of them, I can't imagine what the other dogs are like," she responded. "Are you a rebellious little teenager, Scott?" she asked the dog in puppy-talk.  She looked up at Doyle, a smile playing on her lips. "I might just steal your dog from you. No, scratch that. My mum would kill him and then me." ||words:102||tags:||

[Brandon Doyle]

"I didn't at first" he admitted "But I don't sleep so my eyes don't deal well with sun and I always look sick" he explained, shrugging. "And my other dogs are very calm. Isaac is very obediant and Derek is stubborn but never a real problem anyway. Very low key type" he said. The leashed hand gently pulled on Scott and the dog obediantly stood up and sadly walked over to him.

"I do need to go, I do have to walk the rest of them" he said "but I will always let you pet one if you happen to catch me out here with one again" he offered. He could get along with anybody who liked dogs, right? He didn't like her but he didn't know her, but she liked dogs and who was he to deny somebody some quality dog lovins? That was just going too far.