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+Hmm+
Dec 9, 2005 2:29:13 GMT -5
Post by +Layla+ ||Jake|| on Dec 9, 2005 2:29:13 GMT -5
Layla climbed up the stairs, coming to halt in front of a large door.Layla had been wanting to come to this attic for ages. For some reason, if you just think of an attic inside a mansion it will be dusty and most likely infested with ghosts. Turning the brass handle, she peered inside.
It was dusty, with a large window displaying the gardens. Everything was rather grey and musty, and there was the slight reek of mothballs in the air. Layla smiled. How she loved attics! When she was little she cried because she didn't have an attic. She had wanted one so she could be like people in the books, solving the mystery to save the day. Soon enough she had figued out it only worked that way in the books. There was no such thing as adventures like that, finding a different world or being carted off to a land of magic. It was all lies.
Layla started around the attic. She peered behind chairs and climbed over ancient Russian rugs. She looked at oil paintings and examined the old chandelier. She gasped as she looked upon a glorious painting. It was oil, of a sunset and water, with someone in a boat sailing out to the sunset. It was well painted, well done, and very pretty. Layla fell in love with it at first sight. Apparently you were allowed to take furniture from the attic, so why not paintings? It was only temporary, after all. It was a little dusty, but Layla didn't mind a few cobwebs if what she held was a masterpiece. Carefully, she picked up the painting and neared the door. But then the doorknob turned.
+Hello!+
Layla exclaimed.
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+Hmm+
Dec 9, 2005 7:06:27 GMT -5
Post by ~Isa~ on Dec 9, 2005 7:06:27 GMT -5
Clark stumbled up the steps to the attic, almost going backwards to check if Ana was anywhere near there. He didn't want to cross paths with her again, but he didn't want her seeing that he didn't want to either. Did that make sense? Sighing with relief, Clark pushed open the door and got ready to be enveloped by a cloud of dust bunnies.
Instead, he was greeted by a girl standing in the middle of the attic, holding a painting.
"Um... Hi." He didn't know how to talk to girls; except Ana of course, but she wasn't a girl--she was a... kid. Clark mentally kicked himself for not having anything to say and mumbled his next words. "I'm Clark." Desperately avoiding her eyes, he focused on the painting she was holding. It was beautiful, something he would have tried if he actually knew how. The bright colors of the sunset, the hazy blending of the ocean water and the boat's reflection... yes, definitely something easier to look at than straight at a girl.
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+Hmm+
Dec 10, 2005 17:23:39 GMT -5
Post by +Layla+ ||Jake|| on Dec 10, 2005 17:23:39 GMT -5
Layla smiled and laughed slightly. He seemed so... awkward. Honestly, what was it with guys these days? Usually a woman wasn't allowed to mmet a man's eyes, and now here was a bloke ignoring them. What was the world coming to?
+I'm Layla. I uncovered this painting in there+
Layla pointed back inside the attic. She put the painting down, resting it against her legs. It was surprisingly light. Strange. There was another of Layla's faults; she wasn't that strong. Yes, she could hold her own weight, but objects were beside her. She really had struggled in cheerleading until she had become captain and got to stand to the top of the pyramid.
+Nice to meet you Clark. When did you arrive? I haven't seen you around+
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+Hmm+
Dec 11, 2005 7:49:10 GMT -5
Post by ~Isa~ on Dec 11, 2005 7:49:10 GMT -5
"I came a bit late, in fact," he said slowly, thankful that the truth was something easy to talk about and that for once he, the shy timid introvert of the family, was for once talking. To a stranger. Ana would have waved pompoms in his face for that.
"I guess this project doesn't really require all the kids to start at the same time. In fact, I've heard that there are some people still coming in today. Maybe even tonight." Wow, that sounded like a 3rd-grader. Nice going. His eyes drifted over some other shadowed objects in the back of the attic and then came to a stop on the girl's face. Time to stop acting like she was going to eat him.
ooc: aaahh writer's block hahah sorry
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+Hmm+
Dec 11, 2005 22:12:43 GMT -5
Post by +Layla+ ||Jake|| on Dec 11, 2005 22:12:43 GMT -5
Layla nodded. Well, what an unorganised project! She had been here since this morning, and people kept drifting in. I wonder if people will come at random times, Layla thought. Why, some might come next week. Wouldn't that be foolish? People popping in and out randomly. Silly program.
+Yeah. I don't really mind, I love new people. So. Any hobbies, Clark?+
Trying to make conversation, Layla skipped to the casual about-yourself stuff first. A rule when meeting someone; if in the first 2 minutes your topic has anything about the weather in it, you really did not click.
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+Hmm+
Dec 11, 2005 23:59:19 GMT -5
Post by ~Isa~ on Dec 11, 2005 23:59:19 GMT -5
"Well..." he said, pausing first to think. "I like writing. Not poetry, like my friends, but I do some stories, articles and book reviews every once in a while. I guess it'll help, since we're all stuck in here till Friday anyway and I'll have something to do." He thought again of that significant detail mentioned in the flier. How could anyone stand to be locked in a house six days a week? How would they all do it? I guess it'll be easy to pick out the smokers, then, he thought wryly. Because they'll be going stir-crazy from not being able to go out on the porch. In fact, it wasn't easy to hide ANYTHING in this house, particularly because, at the rate people were coming, the mansion was going to practically overflow with kids soon.
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+Hmm+
Dec 12, 2005 0:10:47 GMT -5
Post by +Layla+ ||Jake|| on Dec 12, 2005 0:10:47 GMT -5
Layla nodded. She was thinking about home. Were Mum and Dad missing her? Especially after Harry. Did they get dreams about him at night aswell? Or were they to adult? Layla had cried the most in her family when Harry had died. Her Dad had mainly stayed fatherish but shed a few tears. Her Mum had wept like anything. But Layla had locked herself in her room for days. It didn't help to know that the most tears you could shed were 37 or something. It didn't help. Nothing could, in those first days.
+We'll get along wonderfully then! I love writing too, but I'm more of a nature person+
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+Hmm+
Dec 14, 2005 7:25:00 GMT -5
Post by ~Isa~ on Dec 14, 2005 7:25:00 GMT -5
He laughed. "Good thing the gardens here are open for you, then. I've heard they're really beautiful, but maybe not so alive right now in December." He remembered that she had been about to leave the room when he came in, and picked up the painting for her. "Want to go downstairs now? This place is really dusty." Yes... he could feel it... yes! Clark Cross was finally opening up? Talking to girls? It might be the end of the world, for all he knew! Grinning at the imaginary announcer voice in his head, Clark opened the door and held it open with his foot, waiting for Layla.
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+Hmm+
Dec 17, 2005 17:55:18 GMT -5
Post by +Layla+ ||Jake|| on Dec 17, 2005 17:55:18 GMT -5
Layla nodded. Too right. They were a little windy, but on the good days they were so pretty. With a grateful smile at Clark for having picked up her painting, she gave a tip of her head, saying:
+Ladies first+
With a cheeky grin. It was a bit dusty up here, but she knew she'd love it just the same. She'd come here every day, just to look out that giant window onto the gardens and dream up her own real romance. Where there was a mystery. Like Cluedo. And there'd be romance and mystery and murder. All in this mansion. Ah, how gloriously wonderful it would be! And the people in the mansion could be her characters. Layla could be the beautiful Bella DaVita, heir to the family fortune. Clark could be the dashing, rich Edwardo Cleaviér, visitor to the mansion. Aiden could be Johnny Samson, the poor gardener who is married to Eloisa, who could be Ann Samson. And Jake could be important Counsellor James Beumont, while Skyla was Mistress Ogaltie, runner of the mansion. And the Silver person could be the murdered, Mr Filo Trippleon. Oooh, how exiting! She would create it, with little scenes in the gardens and all over the house. Why, Bella and Edwardo had just met in the dusty, highly romantic attic where Mr Trippleon was murdered. Ooh, sparking romance! But then, Layla thought, I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Clark and I are not going to have a secret romance in the attic where Silver was murdered, and Aiden is not going to catch us at it. It's not real. But it is nice to pretend, her other side said. Even if it is not real, it is still romantic and mysterious.
(OOC: Sorries, muse gone. But whenever she visits the attic she'll dream up random things in her little tale)
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