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Post by labelle hiraschello on Feb 21, 2010 19:11:05 GMT -5
- - - im a killer [/font][/right] “Ring around the Rosies~” a melodic whisper rung through the corridors followed by a loud slurping sound. Labelle’s long brown hair fell over her shoulders as it was parted in two ways into small pigtails that bounced along with her rhythmic walking. The burgundy highlights in her hair glistened like crimson blood in the dimly lit hallways, her lips were stretched into a long, pointed smile as her ash blue eyes were wide and unblinking.
“Pocket full of Posies~” she sung softly, her smile growing wider, as her tongue trailed the edge of one of Jakk’s three serrated blades in a loud slurping sound. A small string of giggles followed shortly after as her walking pace turned into a skipping dance of some sort.
“Ashes~” she twirled, twisting on one ankle and landing on the other “Ashes~” the different shades of bright blue danced within her eyes along with the lights that filled the hallways with fluorescence.
She suddenly leaped forward and landed in a big clutter on the ground, cheek pressed against the flooring, Jakk clattered several inches away from her.
“We all fall down.” The nineteen year old said in complete monotone, eyes taking on a flat desolate appearance as she stared blankly from the ground.
Suddenly, within a millisecond her lips curled upwards again and her smile returned as she sprung up into a sitting position. “Oh dear!~ Oh dear!~ Methinks I has a boo-boo!~ Wahh!” despite her grin, LaLa’s eyes remained half-lidded as they stared coldly at a cut that slipped about from her wrist to her forearm.
The edges of the flesh were ripped and gnarled as she stared at the blood trickle down off her elbow and onto the rolled up sleeve of her middle school uniform. The nineteen year olds voice was flat and remained monotone as she seemed to almost be mocking herself.
“Drink it up, said the mother hen!” Labelle’s bright tone returned as she brought her arm closer to her face, lapping up the red stuff with a smirk “Drink it all till there isn’t a last drop!” she went on with whatever nursery story she had gotten into her head.
“Drink it or you’ll be punished.” LaLa’s eyes glimmered as the droplets fell against her tongue, the unique taste of silver coating the ex-torturer’s tastebuds.
“You’ll go to the corner~ and I’ll begin to pull out your hair!~ One by one!~” she exclaimed loudly, followed by several hysteric giggles.
“Oonneee….” LaLa sung in a merry tone “Twoooo…” the tip of her tongue protruded around the flaps of the wound as she suckled on the cut before licking her lips.
“’Threee…” Labelle’s ash blue eyes hovered to the ceiling as she pushed herself into a standing position, arm still close to her now crimson colored lips. “Fouuurr….” She mumbled incoherently between licks of blood. She stepped over towards Jakk, bending over to grab the modified knife.
“Fiveee~” Labelle’s fingers gripped around his handle as she brought it to her face, staring at her reflection in the slightly scarlet dipped weapon.
“Five she said, I’ve pulled out five hairs! My Miss, you have waaay~ too many hairs. I’m much too bored to keep doing this!” LaLa continued on with her own little story, using a high pitched fake voice as she told the verses to Jakk.
“And then d’you know what she said next Jakk?” LaLa asked her most beloved weapon with an oh, so innocent tilt of her head.
“She said….” Clearing her throat LaLa’s smirk grew wild as it stretched out into something that appeared almost inhumanly “I’ll just have to tear it out all at once~” giggling into her hand, Lala took another lick on her arm.
“Kyah! Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!” Labelle cackled through the halls, letting it echo through and back as she bent forward, arms dangling while one hand held Jakk tightly. Her expression was flat as she slowly lifted her upper half back up, letting it lean to the left as if she was a rag doll.
“Waaaooo…. It’s so boring.” LaLa mumbled in monotone, shuffling forward. “I ‘wanna kill something.” She continued on in a hushed voice, seeming as if she was in some daze as her eyes glazed over.
“Chop. Chop. Slice. Twitch. Kill. Die. Die. Die.. Hahaha! Your arm fell off, let me reattach it.. Neeee~?” LaLa continued in monotone before suddenly stopping, her upper body falling forward again as her head hung downwards, hiding her face with her long brown locks.
“Teehee!~” suddenly LaLa shot back up, sparkling “Usohhhh~ did I just admit to murderous thoughts?~ Kyahh! I’m a naughttyyy~ child.” The nineteen year old brunette giggled loudly again as she skipped forward, as if the whole thing earlier was a joke she had put on for particularly… no one. Since no one else was in the hallway that she was aware of.
“Someone come play with me!~” she called through the halls, both hands cupped around her mouth even though one held Jakk quite closely to her face.
“NOW.” She added with a pout.
This was just another day in the life of Labelle Hiraschello.
tag; anyone
notes; Uhhh. Yeah. SHE TALKS SO MUCH, failure. Sorry if its hard to work with
word count; 856
muse; pretty good. but then again, I always am museful =w=;;
song lyrics;The Horror of our Love by Ludo
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Post by armand pontellier on Feb 28, 2010 22:23:58 GMT -5
keep calling it a crash and burn waiting your turn you might have time to speak there [/i][/font] BARELY WAS A LESSON LEARNED , CAUSE IT WILL RETURN NO FLAVOR - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font] [/center] Armand had a habit—one of many, mind you, as routine was an acceptable way of forcing complacency—of playing with things out of curiosity, regardless of knowing what it is and having known what was to be avoided and what was not. Although he never forgot a lesson learned from a danger, he did not brood. In a world full of spontaneity, madness, sociopaths, and unjustified hostility Armand lived a happy day-to-day existence, while at the same time never relaxing his wariness. And by now, he could identify several score of sounds and voices, but until a single instance brought wind of one of those things, he gave it no heed.
He was feeling particularly happy that morning because after a long and diligent search he had found a rather delectable dish that an unwitting worker had left out and made off with it in the rather foxy manner he’d picked up. Armand had been increasingly troubled by the lack of quality as the days progressed, and the breakfast had certainly made him happy, so he now experienced a feeling of well-being he had not known for weeks. This combined with that contented go-with-the-flow life had made him a good reason to feel relaxed. And unspeakably bored.
After having pilfered breakfast and amused himself with one of his mind’s own inventions, he went on his leisurely walk of the grounds in a cheerful frame of mind. Hall after hall he looked down and took mental notes of anything out of place or interesting, until he came upon the distinct and the chillingly joyous voice of one Miss LaLa. A cheery LaLa was more than Armand was prepared to handle and he turned immediately on his heels to run back in the direction he’d originally come from before realizing that she had not noticed him. The fright soon subsided and his thoughts soon drifted back to how he had been bored lately, and now that he recovered from the shock of having seen her, he rather enjoyed the excitement of the engagement. Wing around, he stole back towards the hall, stopping just before he could be seen from where LaLa was, for he did not know if Lala was now looking in his direction or not.
No matter what he thought of LaLa, he could never deny that he was right to be intrigued with her, and was just as much so now as when he had met the brunette long ago. Armand was reminded vividly of this as he pressed his back into the wall, listening carefully to her eccentric conversation with her blade. There was an eager expression on his face, his lips pulled back in a half grin. And if ever a person looked ‘foxy’, Armand was that person. The moment she uttered that insistent ‘now’, Armand laughed to himself, calling back to her from his spot in the only language they ever really spoke to one another, ”Twinkle, twinkle in your eye,” he whispered, not necessarily for her to catch, but to try his voice.
”Who will be the next to die?” Louder this time, just enough for LaLa to hear if she were quiet. "Up above in my little head, I can see visions of who's next to be dead,” Already Armand was so delighted with this new game that he allowed himself to speak louder and move further from the wall he had been using as a cover. Truth be told, his inveterate curiosity had caused him to want to investigate LaLa’s reactions, if there had been any as of yet, though he was not so bold as to feel inclined to see what the result of his responding to her was until he could make a cursory check of any verbal response she may have made. But for now, Armand moved on to the rest of his rhyme, hoping to finish at least the before she either followed his voice or he grew bored of hugging the wall.
”Twinkle, twinkle in my eye,” Another imperceptible degree of movement away from the wall. ”Who will be the next to die?” His voice had taken on an almost casual laugh, perhaps LaLa could pick up his cloying smile in it now, as it was loud enough for her to hear easily now without having to be exceptionally attentive. ”The voices in my head tell me to pick who I want dead,” By now he was bored with hiding and had simply slunk well into LaLa’s view, gesturing as though he were contemplating the idea of his rhyme. ”And you know what I said to the voices in my head?” Armand looked directly at her now with an expression that seemed to ask LaLa for an answer to his question. ”I told them, ‘Twinkle, twinkle in my eye I think I see who I want to die.”
Armand wasn’t just grinning at her now, no, he was beaming bright and wide in between his small, giddy laughing fits, his arm extended in an accusatory point in LaLa’s direction. ”Bonjour, mademoiselle.” Yes, Armand had a nasty habit of playing with dangerous things. And why would a fairly sensible person do such a thing, knowing this? Well, Armand had riddled himself a rather impressive gambler when it came to looking a lion in the face.
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