Role Play

(First post is me, second is my friend Allison...)

Dereck leaned against the edge of an ancient parking meter. His long been forgotten hair hung low over his eyes, hiding the scars from the past nightmares. The moon above faintly glowed over the outskirts of the city. This was the only time he left the house, the time they drank. "Those disgusting creatures..." Dereck whispered as a passing car muffled his voice. Other than that, the street seemed deserted. He breathed in a sincere breath of cold, calming night air. This was where he belonged, this was where he felt safe. By himself. He glanced down as a leaf tottered away down the road.....

Clary walked down the dimly lit road, hand in pockets and staring at her feet. Just like always. She walked with a slight limp, fabricated of course, to fit in with the rest of the city dwellers. As far as she was concerned, anything that made you stand out made you more normal. She wasn't cold, but she wore a thick grey hoodie jacket, always zipped up. And tonight as she walked through the darkness she had decided to keep the hood draped around her shoulders instead of over her shoulder-length silk black hair. She was passing a storefront when she noticed a boy, a few inches taller than herself, hovering by the road. What was he waiting for? she asked herself. He had the scent of blood and water around him and she wondered if she had seen him before. He looked vaguely familiar... She looked up, realizing that she had stopped completely to stare at the boy. "I... I'm sorry." She tripped over her words, shocked by the deep, clear eyes that stared back at her...

... Those dark black eyes... Dereck silently liked how the strange girl just stopped to stare at him, even though it made the moment uncomfortable. It was enoguh to be called a freak at home, much less be stared at in public. At least there was no one around. Yet those dark eyes seemed to draw his attention closer and closer. Normally he would've walked away, but he just couldn't stop wondering if, maybe, she had something to hide behind those eyes, like himself...

"I'm sorry." she whispered again, forcing a smile at the boy, who seemed just as interested by her as she was by him... If he wasn't standing infront of a blank brick wall, she would have mady up some sort of excuse for her staring... But no. It HAD to be a wall. "I was kinda spacing out..." She laughed lightly to herself

"Don't be, I'm used to people staring," Dereck replied, shifting his weight off the pole. The scars on his eye twitched as he glanced around. He walked slowly towards the entranced girl, who he could tell almost bolted down the narrow pavement at his approach. "But you seem to be staring for a different reason. You're not pointing; your mouth is slightly open; you hide behind yourself as if in fear yet you still look at me. I'm not a freak to you, am I?"

The way the boy spoke pulled her farther into the trance-like state she was already in. She didn’t notice any imperfections, any flaws, any problems. The only abnormality as the scar above his eye that had previously been covered my his hair. And even that looked as though it had been painted on skillfully and intentionally. This boy was beautiful. Almost unlike anyone she had ever seen. Only he wasn’t so unlike herself... Maybe... He was one of them... “No... you’re not a freak.” She caught herself after she had already spoken the words, and her face dropped toward the pavement. She hadn’t planned on answering that question, thinking it purely rhetorical.what the heck is going on? She looked at the boys eyes again. Deep, searching eyes, unwavering and unblinking. She swore she could see into his mind, but she couldn’t forsee his intentions.

The girl's dark hair seemed to shake as she spoke. Never once had she looked away from his glance, still searching for something, some connection. She seemed familiar, somehow, ending up in the curves and bends of his subconscious. Her long hair, the thin legs wrapped in her tight jeans, the piercings covering her beautiful, smooth skin. Who exactly is she... Dereck remembered he was still staring at her, and started to move closer. "You're different, yet you're afraid. Why?"

“I’m not afraid.” Clary took a step towards him, noticing he had been inching his way toward her. It was odd, because she actually was afraid. Not of him, not of others, and not of herself... but she had this sinking feeling of nervous tension biting at her from inside. The wind picked up, blowing her hair to the side of her face and moving his bangs away from his scars once again. She stared for a moment, wondering what the story was behind those scars. “I’m not afraid of you.” She said, almost to clarify to herself as much as to him.

Then who are you afraid of... He could sense the powerful fear emanating from her core, even through her intense emotional barrier. "What's your name?"

“Clarissa.” She was adopting tho cold, calculating tone in her voice that he had been using. Part of her need to fit in, to not be noticed. She guessed, anyway. “Clary to everyone who cares.” She was short, and in any other situation would have found the conversation snide and rude. But for some reason, this was natural. Organic. Yet strange at the same time... “And what’s yours?”

"Dereck, but no one cares, so it doesn't matter..." He reached out, the metal studs on his hand refracting the moonlight. "We better get moving before someone notices..." He linked his arm under hers and soon they were walking slowly down the road, clouds linking under the moon.