Rain, rain, go away~ [open]

[Charles Fuller]

The afternoon had passed slowly for Li, spent finishing some overdue art coursework and avoiding his sister's phone calls. As the evening fog rolled in, the heavens opened abruptly and a heavy rain pelted from the sky. Probably the only student at Blackstone to be pleased with this sudden development, he raised his head to meet the horrific weather with a grin. The rain was cleansing, it purified him; the feeling of it on the bare skin of his face and arms urged him to run, plug into his MP3 player and let the pounding of his feet against concrete wash away the stresses of the day.

The amusement park, however, was hardly the ideal location for this. Although it was all but deserted, the few candy flossss-laden children in neon yellow parkas and mothers with their tragically unflattering raincoats were all eyeing him with dubious curiosity – and he didn't blame them, really: the messy hair, ill-fitting vest shirt covered in paint stains, leather jacket and cigarette hanging from between his lips (not to mention the eyeliner Kinn had mauled him with before leaving that morning) practically screamed 'criminal'. Breaking into a mad dash here would hardly help his case.

Instead, he flung himself with unnecessary drama down onto one of the benches, allowing his body to sprawl and relax. The water that had pooled on the wood already soaked his worn jeans through, but the shock of it had already cooled to a vague, unpleasant sensation of dampness. It didn't matter. His attention was torn away by the vibration of his cell phone – for the dozenth time that bloody day. Reject call.

With a sigh, he muttered, “Stupid fucking place.”

[Dean Charles]

As the figures around moved in a rushed manner to get out of the rain Alie just walked calmly allowing the rain to pour onto her hair as she slowly walked. It wasn't like the day could have gotten any worse for her anyway, after all being abandoned by a date at the amusement park for some other skinny girl didn't make anyone feel fantastic about themselves or their life. Her above-knee cut boots disturbed the little puddles that were forming as she walked, causing larger ripples that interrupted those that were made from raindrops. Running a finger under both of her large, dopey, blue eyes Alie stopped walking and bent over observing the massive puddle beneath her, the grey jacket she wore clinging tightly to her body.

Continuing to look at the puddle, Alie reached into her boot pulling out a pack of King's blue. Fiddling to open the package, she tossed the plastic wrap into the puddle and pulled out a cancerous stick, placing the box neatly and well hidden away in her boot. Placing her body back in a straight position she began to almost float as she placed the cigarette in between her lips, as both of her hands dug deep into her white denim pockets looking for her lighter, then retreating to her coat pockets. "You're fucking kidding me. No lighter?", throwing her head back, face toward the sky and just letting out a massive sigh. Alie began to look around for a fellow smoker.

She didn't care anymore if she was completely soaked, even if her denim pants suddenly became see-through (which seemed to be impossible because of the thick material.) or to even fall in a pile of mud. Another rejection just simply added onto her terrible mood. Her eyes caught site of some people, but none with cigarettes. Simply just handling their money as they went even more into debt.
After time and time again of staring down figures, her eyes settled on a strange looking man, relaxing in the rain with what seemed to be her best friend in his mouth, nicotine. Better yet nicotine that was burning.

She began to run toward him, almost making it seem like she was going to jump onto him and attack him for a lighter, but as she got very close she slowed down into a walking pace and tried to brighten up. "Care to share a lighter with me, sir?" of course she didn't know who he was, so the sir just made it seem for her that she had respect for him... Even though the only respect was for the creation made by man, the lighter. Not only could she be a pyromaniac if she wanted, she could get her fix with her nicotine addiction.

[Charles Fuller]

His hand served as a mini-umbrella for the cigarette as he gulped every inhalation desperately like a junkie savouring his first hit after hours of pained withdrawal. The filter was sodden and difficult to draw from, but the strength of his lungs as they sought the sweet, sweet nicotine more than compensated.

And suddenly there was a girl approaching like a crazed maniac. Attractive enough, but her predatory manner distracted him from the mental undressing. Her request was met with a raised eyebrow, a quizzical glance, and he stood, staring her down. "Would I care to? Well, that depends," he said, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Are you familiar with the phrase 'quid pro quo'?"

A pause as he took another long drag and sighed it out, blissful. Then, "What will you give me in exchange?"

[Dean Charles]

Letting her eyes roll out of their fixed state, Alie placed her hand on her hip thinking for a moment as he spoke. She stared straight at his eyes keeping track of what he was even looking at. "I rather there not be a depending factor here, so much as for a simple light so I can be on my way," an uneasy feeling running through Alie as she stood there hoping he'd just let her have the opportunity to light her smoke and leave, but that didn't seem to be how the case was working out to be. His smirk churned her stomach even more as she tried to figure out what he wanted.

"I am quite familiar with the term, sadly. Why not narrow down what you might want in return. Perhaps... Money?" At this rate, Alie would pay someone twenty dollars just to have the capability to light her cigarette and enjoy it before the insides of it soaked. It was probably too late for that, but she still had more smokes. Standing there quietly she sat down a safe distance from him, adjusting her boots now and moving the pack of smokes into a better spot, where the didn't bother her as much whens he moved. "Come on, I'm just desperate for a smoke. Make me a reasonable offer." It wasn't like she was exactly in the position with the upper hand, but she would try to make it pass that way. If it failed completely, well that would be that.

[Charles Fuller]

"Honestly? I don't give a shit. "There's nothing to fucking do here, and I need entertainment," he replied offhandedly, discarding the spent cigarette and crushing it beneath one beaten, black combat boot. He had no particular angle, wanted nothing special from this random girl; it was simply boredom that drove him to play mind games with everyone he met. Idly, he ran a hand through his hair, sighing. Then another of his signature smirks, this one laced with intent.

"What would you consider a reasonable offer?" A few amusing possibilities occurred to him, some juvenile and others simply spiteful. There was money, sex. Companionship. A conversation, even, he'd settle for - in fact, he'd prefer. And that was just sad.

[Dean Charles]

Alie sat there contemplating for a few seconds, considering her options. She could just sit there and beg, make an offer, or just get up and leave. The third choice seemingly to be the less likely of them all, but yet the one that stood out the most in her mind. Just gazing off into the sky for a moment, Alie snapped back into reality and stood up. Shaking her head in frustration between looking at him and around she placed herself gently back on the bench with a sigh. "You need entertainment, I need a god damn smoke." She wasn't exactly in the mood for this nonsense, and there had to be another smoker around somewhere.

Now glaring at him, Alie threw herself up off the bench. "I can't play these games, I'm just going to find someone else I suppose. As I cannot meet your something for something deal. I have no thoughts in my head other then sitting here proving you company while I try to figure out ways on how to kill most of the men on this planet." SImply stating what was on her mind, Alie placed her elbows on her lap, and her jaw in her hands. Quickly turning to him and flahsing him a fake smile, before going back to thought. If this was a game to him, it wasn't entertaining. You don't with-hold someone from their addiction unless they ask you to. Alie was at the point of begging for a light and was considering doing practically anything, but the concept of prostituionf or some kind of pay.

[Charles Fuller]

"Do you see any other smokers around here?" Li snickered, casting an obvious glance around the area before his gaze, still quietly intent, settled back on her. "'Cause I don't, sweetheart."

He did feel some limited amount of sympathy for her, however - lacking a lighter was just about the worst possible eventuality whilst suffering nicotine withdrawal. And with that thought, and another smirk, he relented. "But hey, whatever, I'll settle for hearing the reason you wanna inflict genocide on an entire gender."

The lighter he proffered was a zippo with a neon green cannabis leaf emblazoned on its front. Judging by the general wear and tear, it had obviously been owned for some years and refilled repeatedly. "Careful with it. The flame has a tendency to misbehave."

[Dean Charles]

Her eyes skimmed the area once over double-checking for any smokers in the area, at all. A desperate pout crossed her face as he spoke and crossed her arms, the unlit cigarette still in hand. "Obviously, I don't see any other smokers around here." as she spoke a strange sound occur din her words as she tried to fight off her accent that was trying to stand out. She wanted to be like every other tough American girl and not 'that girl with the funny Australian accent.

Tilting her head at him she began to let out her words, the pathetic little story that bothered her so much. Well there goes being tough. "My 'date' decided that he would leave me for some other skinny blonde girl that looks like she had breast implants, and hasn't eaten for the past damn month. And this isn't the first time this has happened to me either. So, I'm starting to lean more toward the death of men, and just dating girls instead."

The corner of her eye caught a glimpse at the lighter in his hand, she simply took it pulling her hair away from her face, cigarette now in mouth supported by her slender fingers and carefully lighting the cigarette. The flame reaching out at her face for a moment and then wavering back. Her hands comforted by the lighter for just a moment as she handed the lighter back to... "Thank-you, I don't know you're name but I'm Alie, and I thank you for allowing my addiction to be fed some more." Smiling with her wording she simply looked up to the sky letting out the smoke from her mouth as she sat back and relaxed a bit. Why is this guy even here alone? keep an eye on him through the corner of her vision, Alie placed the cigarette back to her mouth proudly.

[Charles Fuller]

He observed her with quiet intent: how she struggled hopelessly against her origins, her subtle movements and the grace that accompanied them; how fragile-looking her fingers were compared to his own. Definitely cute, he decided – at least on the surface. His own accent, low and gravelly and indistinct, apropos of nowhere in particular, had never been a consideration; he'd spoken carelessly and without any polite inflection for most of his teenage life. But what about her home did this seek to conceal? It was interesting, in any case.

“How ordinary. I was expecting something with more glamor,” he said, upper lip quirked into what might have been a half-smile. “Isn't getting ditched for someone with better legs and bigger boobs the archetypal story of a young, attractive girl's life?”

The lighter was retrieved from her hand with a grunted, “thank you,” and he pocketed it. "I'd never deny someone their addiction~"[/color]

[Dean Charles]

Fiddling with her fingers as the cigarette rested in between her lips, a gentle and smooth eye roll had been done directed to his comment. Cradling the cigarette between her index and middle finger she let out a large puff of smoke before considering to reply. "Glamor is something I do not have, nor will I ever have. It's not like I give off an aura of glamor anyway." Inhale, exhale. The pattern in her breath had suddenly changed as he spoke. 'Attractive? If only that statement were something I felt. Confidence would probably keep me out of the non-existent relationship I am in. Continuing to play around with her fingers as the nicotine took it's precious time to finish what it had started in relaxing her. "It is the story of an attractive girls life. Sadly, if I were attractive I wouldn't be in this situation right here. Having a smoke with a stranger, when I could have been with that shallow asshole. " The rough words Alie spoke could clearly be told that they were intentionally bitter toward the boy, well the one that had abandoned her.

A small giggle escaped from her as he spoke almost as if he had a tune placed to the words, it was something Alie hadn't heard coming from anyone lately. Just a tune to their voice, even if it was fake or didn't even happen she imagined it in her mind. Covering her mouth with her free hand she let out a large sigh. Why did she even giggle? It was just a tune to a voice, nothing actually entertaining happened. "Well, I wish I didn't have this bloody addiction to cancer... I almost wish you had refused to give me the light. But the key word there is almost." When did she even start smoking again? It seemed so long ago to her.

"Care to enlighten me on why you are here?" She had shared with him her oh-so-lovely story. Why not try and get some information out of him. he seemed like the personal type, that didn't share much of his personal problems with others, so perhaps this would be a game for Alie to win. Maybe it wouldn't be difficult or a game at all.

[Charles Fuller]

The giggle caused a smirk to meander across his face. How cute.

"If you weren't attractive, I would've just given you the lighter and told you to piss off. Guys are pigs: sad, sure, but true." There was obvious amusement in his tone as he reached for another cigarette, twirled it casually between his fingers, then lit it.

Prompted by the question was a wide-eyed glance at the girl. Why was she showing any interest in his motives? He was here because a certain someone wouldn't leave him the hell alone, and the amusement park seemed as good a hiding place as any. Simple as that. "Why I'm here? I'm afraid you'd find that story pretty damn dull."