・Lungs・

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Dip, Jan 24, 2015.

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  1. They had been dating for about seven months and ten days, but if you asked him, it only took a second of his time to fall completely head-over-heels.

    Valencia Cross wasn't the kind of girl you would meet at school, or at the mall. How they met was completely by accident, if you asked anyone! It was by accident that she ran into him at the book store. All he had to do was look into her big brown eyes, and he was smitten. He would follow her to the end of the Earth and back, and he was sure he already did. It wasn't just her eyes that got to him, but it was the book she got, too.

    "Good-Bye Blue Monday?" He inquired, smiling as he helped her pick up the books.
    "Oh yes," She sighed, pushing her hair behind her. "I love this author."


    He could still remember the imagine as clear as day. She invited him to sit, and talk. And talk they did. The boy talked about how the author was so respected, and she talked about how he wrote the truth, and didn't sugar coat anything. When she went to the bathroom, he left a note with his name, and number. He thought of writing it in the book, but he would never deface something like that.

    Florence Jean Birdwhistle.
    Call me Birdy. Or call me anytime.
    (033) 606-0660
    -B


    It was that instant that the friendship started. It was slow, yes, but it went up hill quickly. They would vaguely text eachother, but soon they called, and called escalated to meetings and dinners, and it wasn't long until Florence fell completely in love with Valencia. When Florence knew he loved her, it seemed like the entire world stopped! He realized that she was the kind of girl you could pick out in the crowd. She stood boldly. She has skin! And a mouth! She has lips, and teeth, and a tongue! And, my god, She used correct grammar! She knew the difference between their, there and they're. You're and your. Too, two and to. She has lips, and teeth, and a tongue. And he had eyes for her alone.

    It was seven months and ten days when he first proposed his love to her.

    "A dropped penny won't kill you, alcohol doesn't keep you warm, and I am hopelessly in-love with you, Valencia Maria Cross!"

    Needless to say, she loved him as well. They embraced, and held eachother for a long time. He held her like a rock, until the night time came. He made the motion to kiss her, but he only reached her forehead. That was okay with him. He walked her home, made sure she was safe and sound. When she left into the house, he was flying on cloud nine. He was ecstatic. He was in love.

    But as in love as he was, there were some complications. She was about a year younger than he was, and it did spark some trouble for his family. But that was momentarily. Valencia, on the other hand, didn't have to tell her family. Her damned brother, Nathaniel, called him out. It was by accident, sure, but that stupid prick ruined their relationship within the last three months. All it took was leaving her phone out, and all it took was one snoopy brother.

    It was his fault the relationship got complicated. It was his fault the dates were shorter, and that the aura of the situation was ruined. Florence knew that revenge, no matter how he got it, would be sweet. The school year started, and they began talking more and more on phone, other than face-to-face. She had dance practice, and Florence was alone with his books. But things only got complicated in the middle of the school year.
    He heard it over the radio in his car.
    That'S how it all started. Someone on the news said that there had been a missing person, and that person was her. Valencia. HIS Valencia. He barely noticed at first, but it only struck him when he parked at school. He screamed in his car, cried loudly, and hid for most of the morning. As soon as Florence decided to head into the school, he instantly had his sights set on the boy who had started this all.

    He saw him standing with some friends, and Florence instantly lashed out at him. He ran to him, grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, and threw him into the locker. His blue eyes were striped with angry tears, and his glasses were speckled with water spots, as well. He had the sleeves to his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, and he was ready to absolutely kill this guy. His red hair danced like fire inside his beanie, with bangs poking out to move with his rage.

    "Where the HELL is she?" He yelled loudly, looking him head in the eye. ​
     
    • You Get a Cookie You Get a Cookie x 1
  2. Nate’s mind was in a state of complete and utter chaos. Valencia, his dear younger sister, had been missing for almost 24 hours now, and someone had witnessed a group of people shoving her into their cars.

    In truth, at first, he thought it was just a sick joke. Valencia was smart enough to take care of herself. Heck, he even forced her to carry around a can of pepper spray just in case someone tried to do something to her. (Well, he had a particular person in mind when he gave her the can, but she didn’t need to know that.) And when they first received the call from the police, Nate had almost blew up on the caller.

    “Are you sick? This is some kind of dumb ass joke, isn’t it?” He nearly yelled. The police didn’t even seemed fazed by his outburst, he just told Nate to calm down and insisted that it wasn’t a joke. Nate felt a deep sharp pain in his chest and it settled in the depths of his stomach: an absolute feeling of dread. He immediately tried to contact his sister, knowing she always carried around her phone religiously.

    First ring… Second ring… Third ring… No reply.

    Nate stared at his phone blankly for a while, his mind uncomprehending by the news he received. His sister was missing. How did that….
    Florence His mind jumped, immediately suspecting that stupid boy that was always hanging out around his dear sister. He knew that he must have had something to do with this; he was probably that kind of person after all. Nate had tried for months to break them up – to get rid of the nuisance – but he all of his endeavors had failed miserably.

    And now this was happening.

    Nate bit his bottom lip hard, a habit he had developed, and immediately rushed to school. That’s where he probably was hiding out. In the hallways, he encounter some of his friends, and some of Valencia friends. In his mind, he was set on blaming that crazy red head, but he thought he should gather some details first. He asked his friends if they’ve seen her – he wasn’t surprise when they didn’t, they didn’t mingle with her much.

    And he was just about to ask Valencia’s friends the same thing, when he felt a slight pain in his collar bone as someone bunched up his shirt. More pain quickly travelled across his back, and he winced as it connected with the lockers behind him. His own hands instinctively flew up, grabbing onto his perpetrator’s hands, and Nate had all the intentions of throwing the person off.

    It was him. The creepy stalker of Valencia’s.

    But Nate’s eyes grew a little wide as he realized that the guy was crying. He immediately shoved the red head off, and glared at him. Nate was not appreciating the feelings in his mind, the pity he felt for Florence.

    “That’s what I’M trying to figure out.” His voice was dripping in icy cold rage, his hands bunched up in tight fists. “Are you sure YOU didn’t do anything?” His eyes were narrowed into rage, their usual warm brown color were now tarnished with some sort of deadly edge. “If you hurt her… I swear to God…” Nate ignored the little voice in his head that was determined for Florence’s innocent. Shut up. He’s obviously the guilty one.

    If he wasn’t, who else could it be?
     
  3. Florence let the man shove him off, feeling slight regret for what he did so quickly. He knew Valencia hated it when he started fights with her brother, and he hated the fights just as much as she did. Well, that was a stretch, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He watched him angrily, till the other made a statement that had Florence bare his teeth and nearly made him punch Nathaniel. Florence tried to keep his temper, but my god, her brother didn't have a good bone in his body.

    Florence erupted. He, once again, grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him harder into the lockers than ever. He was shaking-- he was on the verge of tears again. How could someone be so heartless? How could he even THINK that Florence was the cause of this? Was he really that bad of a guy? Tears rolled down his face, and he slammed him one more time for good measure, before he screamed in his face.

    "I'm going to FUCKING KILL you!!"

    It was at that moment that some of the teachers heard this, and saw some of the chaos. A teacher had to pull them apart, but it was mostly them pulling Florence off of Nathaniel. The teacher was one of the gym coaches, who had previously tried to get Florence into a sport or two, but he declined. The gym teacher, by the name of Dr. MacQuoid, grabbed Florence by the shoulders and dragged him, off, and another went to simply check on Nathaniel.

    The gym teacher pulled Florence to parts unknown, and the teacher that was comforting the other started to talk, "Are you alright?" She was a librarian, and she spoke gently. "I'm so sorry about all that's been happening to you, lately. Do you need anything before you get to class?" The librarian placed a gentle hand where Florence did not, and listened to him and his needs.

    While the librarian was doing that, the gym teacher dragged the other to his office, and sat him down into a chair. Florence sat, arms crossed and eyes red as ever. He stared off into the corner, and the gym teacher wiped his brow of sweat and grease. He sat in his own chair, across from the other, and sighed.

    "Florence," He started, wringing his hands together.
    "What?" The teen shot back, his voice shaking and his eyes more red than blue.
    "I know you're going through some hard times right now, and I know you want to take your anger out on others--"
    "Not others. Just him."
    "Just him." The teacher said, rubbing his eyes. "Why-Why do you hate him so much, anyway?"
    Florence didn't answer this. The teacher continued.
    "Listen, kid," He started, standing up and making his way towards the door. "I know you had something special for his sist--"
    "Valencia." Just saying her name made him ache.
    "... For Valencia, but do you expect her own brother to be blame for this?"
    Florence was silent once more.
    "Go back to class, kid. If you want to help, give some pictures to the police station and give them all the information possible."

    Florence was dismissed, and sent to his next class with a warning. His red eyes grew less puffy, and he bottled himself for as long as he could.
     
  4. Nate hated to admit it, but Florence was always, and probably will always be, stronger than him. Despite his best attempts during the fight against Florence, Nate stood no chance. As he was thrown against the lockers yet again, Nate let out a small yell – which was quickly drowned out by Florence’s battle cry of death.

    What happened next, even Nate couldn’t tell you. There were teachers and students that surrounded them, all trying to pry Florence off of Nate. At first, Nate resisted them, ready to throw his fair share of punches at the idiot as well, but after one of Florence’s punches connected, Nate’s senses came back. He didn't stand a chance. So, he allowed the teachers to do as they want, and he could feel the soreness and bruises settling in. He was just glad that nothing seemed to be broken.

    Suddenly, a thought entered his mind. Florence might not have been the perpetrator, he didn’t think Florence was capable of being such an actor, but… What if Valencia was experiencing something similar to thing? What if someone was beating her up right now? Or… Doing something even worse…

    In the midst of his panicked mind, he realized someone was talking to him. Nate looked up, barely catching the end of the librarian’s sentence – something about going to class? – and he just nodded mutely. “I’ll go…” He muttered, gathering his stuff, still in rather in a dazed statement.

    It was an understatement to say that Nate was not listening in class. In fact, he was even ignoring questions that were being directed at him. But none of the teachers scolded him, nobody even questioned further. They all knew what happened, he could hear them whispering in the back.
    The rage grew quietly in Nate’s mind. They were all whispering about how ‘sad’ it was, how ‘unfortunate’ it was. How they wished that they could ‘help’ in some way – even though all they really wanted to do was gossip.

    Rage exploded even further when he heard a particular group of people say that she “deserved” it because she must have been a “slut.”

    “SHUT UP, YOU BASTARDS.” He screamed, throwing a textbook at them. They screamed, but before someone could go talk to Nate, he stormed out of the room. He was pissed off at everyone. Pissed off at all these uncaring people. Nobody was going to help him, hell, nobody even CARED. But... most of all, he was mad at himself. What was he doing? Why was he going to class when his sister could have been facing some sort of nightmare?! He had to go look for her, but how was he suppose to do it himse-

    He saw Florence once more in the hallways. At first, Nate was torn between confronting the boy once more or hiding to avoid the confrontation that was going to happen, but then he had an idea. Florence was the only one to CARE. Even though they hated each other… They both cared about Valencia, and… Florence obviously would do something to try to help – Nate’s shoulder's cries of pain are evidence of that. So he went up to Florence, holding up his hands in a sort of a surrender pose.

    “Don’t do anything stupid,” He started but then quickly tried to take out the hate in his voice. “I mean…” He sighed and looked down at the floor, “Where did you last see Valencia? You’re the one that sees her the most, you might have been the last to seen her… Which could give us some clues.” Nate then quickly shoved his hands in his jean pockets, clearly annoyed that he has to ask for help. But he’ll do anything for her.
     
    #4 RiniPinja, Jan 25, 2015
    Last edited: Feb 3, 2015
    • Love Love x 1
  5. The day had already been long, even when you did take out the throbbing pain in his wrist and constant threat for tears to spill over at any minuet. He had spent most of the day avoiding people as much as he ought to-- he even skipped second block to have a quick smoke, but other than that, it was inevitable for him to be alone for long. It wasn't until school let out that he saw him.

    Nathaniel.

    Florence was ready to stand his ground again. He even had his hands ready, but so did the other. But his position was more of a defensive, almost submissive, one. The other began talking to him, and Florence had to wait a second. Was he talking to him? He couldn't remember the last civilized conversation he had with him, but he could tell this would probably go down in history for the longest time he went without wanting to kill him. But when he asked when he last saw her, he froze for a second.

    Well, he had a feeling that his answer would probably result in a swift ass kicking, not only from Nathaniel, but from his parents alike. Florence scratched the back of his head, and sighed. "Come with me," He said, making his way out of the school. His car, which he drove everyday, was parked conveniently in the parking-lot, and he wanted to make his way there for some closure. And, of course, he had some cigarettes there. "It's a long story. Ans don't think this means we can be all buddy-buddy, okay? I'm just dropping you off at your house. I have some of my own investigating to do." He sounded nearly on the brink of tears. He unlocked his door.

    As he did, he ran a hand over the hood. There were some dents in it, sure, but it was his favorite car. It was squat, and an ugly red color. It matched his hair perfectly, and came right out of the seventies. It was a surprise that the other hadn't seen it roll up into his driveway from time after time, but as far as he knew, Florence drove up a different block, and he had to make his princess walk towards him. Florence unlocked the door, and sat in the old pussy-wagon.

    As he got the car started, he reached over and into the glove compartment. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes, slapped them against his palm, and pulled out a lighter from his pocket. He shifted his eyes over to him, and stuck one in his mouth. "If you think about narking on me to the Lacrosse team, I'll make you pay for it." With that, he lit his cancer-stick, and took a deep puff. The car sputtered and spat, and so did he. He coughed up some smoke, and sighed. It felt good. If it didn't, he wouldn't smoke.

    "I saw her two days ago." He said, putting the car in gear and driving off. He held the cigarette tightly in his lips. "It was about twelve-oh-six, because no one is ever up at midnight, let alone six minuets past. I always snick her out at twelve-oh-six." He smiled gently, but broke into a grim sigh. He inflated his lungs, and rolled down the window. "I went to get her some food, and then we just sat and talked for a while. Mostly about our day, but..." He paused, and took a deep breath of air.

    "We went to the store afterwards. It was her idea. We went in and bought some... something. After we bought that, I drove her down to our favorite spot and we..."He sucked the rest of his cigarette down, and he talked as the smoke exited his lungs. By that time, they were nearly half-way to his house. "We had sex. I bought the condoms, but it was her idea. It was completely consensual, and she kept the rest of them with her. I swear, if worst comes to worst, I'd be the last person that would ever hurt her."

    Florence looked at him for a second. "I love her. I will love her. I won't ever stop. I'd do anything for her, okay? I'd always make sure she's happy. I want her home more than you do."
     
  6. Nate was hesitant to follow the boy out, but he did so. He kept his hand ready in his pocket though, on a small pocket knife, just in case. Yes, it was illegal in the school, but who the hell cared when your sister went missing? Nobody wanted to yell at him anyways, they were all too worried about his ‘feelings’ and crap like that.

    He tried to dispel his ongoing rant in his mind and instead tried to pay more attention to Florence as he began to speak. He merely scoffed at the mention of ‘buddy-buddy,’ they merely had a mutual cause. It wasn’t like they were going to be hanging out with each other and relaxing anytime soon. He kept his mouth shut, despite his desired opposition to Florence’s future plans.

    For a second, Nate didn’t want to go into the car with him, but he figured he had no choice. He muttered a bit quietly as he climbed into the death-trap, and he tried not to flinch away when the smell of smoke threatened to choke him. “I won’t tell,” He muttered but still offered a slight glare in his way, “But I still think you should stop it. Your lungs sound bad enough already, and continuing it isn’t helping.” There was a bit of worry in Nate’s voice, but it might have been just concern for his own health rather than for Florence’s.

    Nate stayed quiet during Florence’s story. He was thinking the entire time, trying to construct her day in his mind. He was also paying attention for certain signs that might have indicated a lie- “What?!” He couldn’t help blurting out when the mention of sex was brought up. His eyes were wide and he immediately looked over at him. After a few seconds, though, he shook his head, silencing himself. But still…

    THEY SLEPT WITH ONE ANOTHER?!

    His fingers dug into the seat as he tried to keep back his screams. For a while, he succeeded… Until Florence’s final comment, “Fuck you.” With his answer, his voice was quiet, but his anger was clearly evident in his voice. At the same time, there was also something underneath the thickening layer of hate and anger… There was worry, despair… and maybe even pure terror…

    “First off, I’m going with you if you’re going to look for her.” He started out relatively soft, but slowly, his voice began crescendo a tad as words started to tumble out of his mouth. “How could you say that to me, I’m her BROTHER, damn it, what makes you think you love her more than I do?! I loved her the minute she was BORN, Florence, and fuck you for thinking otherwise! I was the one that was WITH her ever since childhood! The one to take care of her when our parents were out, when she had some troubles, on schoolwork, even on her fucking scratches when she fell off the swing set. You met her like what, not even a YEAR ago?! How could you even THINK that?!?!”

    He threw his hands up and buried his face in it. Tears were quickly running down his face, and he couldn’t stop them anymore. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what I would do if Valencia was… was…” He voice cracked and he bit his bottom lip in an attempt to keep from bawling.

    With his last words, his voice was quiet again. He kept his head in his hands, refusing to look up, despite the water that pooled and threatened to drown him. “I’m sorry…” He barely choked out, sounding more like a whimper, “I’m just… I-I just… need your help… What… What happened after…?”
     
    • Love Love x 1
  7. Florence listened to him through the entire silent tornado. Even for the louder parts. Sure, he had a point there, but even if he explained it, Nathaniel would never understand the connection they had. They were connected by blood, sure, but Valencia and Florence were connected by souls. They poured eachother's secrets to eachother. Nathaniel was there for the scratches, sure, but he never held her like Florence did.

    He wasn't there when she couldn't sleep at night. He wasn't there when she was up at three in the morning, too tired to speak and too sad to talk. He never had to silent her fits of laughter or her fits of tears. Nathaniel did homework for her, but Florence did more for her than he did for anyother person alive. She knew everything about him, and he knew everything about her, too. She knew her favorite color, what she likes when she is sad, and how she liked her coffee. Nathaniel knows her from the outside, but Florence knows her from the inside.

    Florence didn't turn to watch the man cry. He gripped the steering-wheel and tried not to cry himself. Once they were at the house, Florence unlocked the door, and faced him finally. He turned off the car, and lit up another cigarette. Three in one day? It was a new record. He stuffed it in his mouth, and unbuckled his seat-belt. "No." He said, blowing smoke out. "This is what I'm doing. I know you love her, but this is something I have to do myself." He said, taking another breath. "Here, try these." He tossed him a cigarette. "They really help, don't you know."

    Florence sucked ash for a moment, and looked at the other. He seemed like he was expecting something else. Florence looked at him. "What?"
     
  8. Nate didn't move from his seat even as Florence turned off the car. He refused to budge. It took him a while to qualm his tears, but he finally managed to do it.

    When he looked up at Florence his eyes were blood shot red and puffy, but he quickly wiped it to try to make it look somewhat... bearable? Better? Normal? Nate wasn't sure what it accomplished, but it seemed to help in the movies. At first, he stared blankly down at the cigarette, temptation swallowing him. But he could smell the stink waves coming from Florence's direction and he just kept the cigarette on his lap, refusing to touch it.

    Nate then looked up at Florence and scoffed at the question. "I'm not leaving. I'm coming with you." He said, his voice still shaky, but it held conviction. "So just give up and drive."
     
  9. Florence flicked ash in his direction. "Cute." He sighed, smoke leaking from his mouth. "Sorry, but that seat is taken." Florence, if he was going to bring anyone, would bright his own dog. Sure, Nathaniel was a bitch, but he'd never take him along. Florence picked his feet from the bottom of the car, and rested them on the armrest between them. "Look, here's what I'm going to do." He said, tapping his toes to his own beat.

    "I'm going to get about seven-hundred pieces of evidence to the police officers, and then I'm heading out of town to get a gun, a knife and a bow. After that, I'm getting some cigarettes, and I'm going on a man-hunt." Lucky for Florence, he had her diary with him. She left her bag in the back seat, and Florence didn't snoop through it. In it was just a change of clothes, a few pens and a few journals. The bag was somewhere on the floor, and he was thankful that the other hadn't seen it yet.

    "If you want to go yourself, good. Go. Please, LEAVE." Florence took his left foot and gave the man a quick shove in the shoulder. Who knows what he would do in his car? It was bad enough he gave him a ride, but now he had to deal with him for the long run? He had a feeling this was going to be a long day.
     
  10. Nate immediately flinched back by the ashes and gave Florence a death glare.

    "No." He stubbornly replied, despite the shove. He continued to stay steadfast onto the seat. "I'm not leaving. Wherever you're going, I'm going." Nate even furthered his conviction by (childishly) crossing his arms. "Whoever wants this spot can just settle for the back. I already told you, I'm going with you."

    He then eyed Florence, after realizing what he said. "Police?" He scoffed, "What makes you think the police would give evidence to you? Lovers," he stuttered at the word a bit, "are the number 1 suspect in any sort of kidnapping cases." He then smirked lightly, despite the situation, "They'll probably just kick your sorry ass out, or stick it in the interrogation room."
     
  11. Florence was steamed at what the other had to say. "Like you're more help than they are. Please, the most recent picture you have of her is from fifth-grade." He said, shoving him with his right foot this time. Ash fell onto his chest, but he didn't pay any mind to it. "Now, if you'd kindly get out of my car, that you be lovely."

    Florence rolled down the other's window, and tried to shove his head out of there. Sure, his worn-out chucks wouldn't get him out of there, but he gave it a good fighting chance.
     
  12. Nate yelled slightly at the next shove and he quickly tried to twist Florence's floot away, thoroughly grossed out. "Stop!" After a few whacks on Florence's leg, Nate glared at him a bit and then merely climbed into his back seat. He placed his seat belt on there, again, refusing to move. "I'm not leaving, I'll just go with you!" He determinedly called out and then glanced around.

    He noticed a bag and he eyed it just a bit. It looked rather... familiar... "Is this Valencia's bag?" He questioned, picking it up. "Why do you have it...?" He asked, suspicion creeping once again into his voice.
     
  13. Florence heard the suspicion in his voice, and he quickly turned and started the car in a moment flat. He slammed on the gas, and steered with one hand. The other he used to grab the bag from behind the seat. It was an easy task, because he didn't have his seat-belt on. Now clocking in at about eighty miles an hour, he held the bag in his lap and made sure his ashes didn't spill on the contents.

    As he slowed down, he sucked on his cigarette and sighed out steam. "Stay back there." He said, buckling his belt.
     
  14. Nate couldn't react as the car suddenly lurched forward. He yelled out a bit and clutched on tightly onto the seat. His hands dug into the cloth and his eyes were wide. "What the hell?! Slow DOWN, Florence, this is a NEIGHBORHOOD!!! What's WRONG with you?!?!" He screamed loudly. He didn't dare move even a centimeter until Florence slowed down.

    He knew Florence was crazy, but was he always THIS crazy?! What on earth did Valencia see in this guy that obviously had some sort of mental issues that need to be fixed?!

    Also... "Fuck! Watch out for other CARS!" He screamed again loudly, fearing for his life. Was he going to die?!
     
  15. Florence slowed down, and began to drive like a common human being. He didn't want the cops stopping him if he could help it. He eased his way through stop signs, and sucked the ash out of the cigarette in his mouth. He rubbed the butt into a tray at the front, and he sighed. It was deathly silent, minus the other's pounding heart in the back. He rummaged under the seat, and pulled out a circular CD case.

    It was stocked-full of CDs and Mix-Tapes that he and Valencia had made for eachother. He pulled out one, and shoved it into the radio player. The music flooded the car like a gentle storm, and Florence could almost feel the words wrapping around him like an embrace that he so fondly missed. The song was a cover of an Elvis Presley song, and it was his and her song. He smiled something close to happiness, but it soon faded.

    Once he found another stop sign, he pulled out his cell-phone. To where he was going was just a secret between him and himself. There was a little rout to get to someplace only the couple knew, and he would never revile it to the other. He dialed Valencia's number, and listened to it ring. Once it was done with the miniature anthem, he heard the sweet sound of her voice.

    "It's Valencia, you know what to do."

    Florence pulled the phone away and let the music flood the phone. When a good chuck of the song was record, he spoke gently into the speaker. "Life is meaningless. Call me when you can."
     
  16. Even as Florence slowed down to a normal humane speed, Nate’s heart still threatened to jump out of his throat. His hands were still clutch onto the seats rather tightly, and it was taking quite a bit of energy for him to try to calm down. The freak’n smoke coming from the front seat certainly wasn’t helping…

    Nate let out a small cough at the smell of smoke invaded his nose.

    He was going to mention something, but then Florence popped in some music. He heard Valencia play this song once in a while, although he personally didn’t like it himself. “Hey!” He called out from the backseat, feeling rather brave enough to lean forward. “You really shouldn’t get on your phone while you’re dri-“

    He could faintly hear the familiar voice squeaked out from the phone. It was skewed, since it was so quiet and from a distance, the speaker of the phones ruined it… But he knew her message well enough, he heard her set it up, after all. He stayed quiet as Florence spoke to her, his voice dark, depressed, and filled with just as much pain as Nate feels.

    He let the silence hang in the air for a while. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even help himself, let along help the boy he spent loathing for a good portion of his life. How do you help the enemy? How do you comfort a hated one?

    Finally, Nate spoke up gently. “We’ll… find her.” He said quietly, but with confidence. “We will find her.” He emphasized once more, “And she’s going to be fine.” Hesitantly… Nate then placed a hand on Florence’s shoulder, unsure on what else to do to comfort for the guy.

    “Just wait and see. We’ll find her.”
     
    • Love Love x 1
  17. Florence kept to himself after the call, and just drowned himself in the music as much as he could. He sighed, but gasped as he felt the other touch him on the shoulder. He appreciated it, sure, but he wasn't one to accept something like that from someone he hated. He shrugged it off, and pressed the radio to to play the next song. It was another song that Valencia had put on the CD, and Florence decided to leave himself in that song.

    It was something by a British band, and it was something about love, aswell. Florence had CDs for just about every emotion, and this one he played when he missed Valencia. This was a good song, despite the sad undertone. Florence turned, and headed onto a gravel road. As he rolled down the lonesome road, he felt almost like he was going to meet her at the end of the trail, like they have before. A small smile played on his face as he drove on the foreign road, and as he took another turn.

    About fifteen minuets later, they were in the middle of the wilderness. Florence pulled over towards the side, and turned off the car. Once he did, he looked behind his shoulder and spoke to him. "If you ever come here alone, or with someone, or something else, I'll kill you and blame it on James Parker." James Parker was one of the sketchiest people anyone could know. He was known for being tweaked out most of the time, and the other times, he was just stoned.

    After that, he exited the car. As he did, he slid Valencia's bag into his own backpack. After the other left the car, he opened the trunk. There were plenty of snacks and water-bottles in there, along with a pair of dirty boots and a hiking stick. It all belonged to Florence. It had been raining for a few weeks now, and he knew that the trails would be absolutely miserable. He sat in the truck as he slipped on his boots, and threw his chucks into his backpack. Once he did, he grabbed his stick, and looked over to the other.

    "Keep up," He said, grabbing a water bottle and tossing it to the other. As he did, he slipped a few into his bag, along with a packet of beef jerky. This was going to be a long day.
     
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  18. Nate scoffed at the threat, "Stop threatening me every 2 seconds. Seriously." But in the back of Nate's mind, he knew that Florence's threats might not just be empty threats. The boy could probably kill him with his bare hands after all - Nate knew he was rather wimpy - and James Parker was just... suspicious. Now THERE was a guy worse than Florence.

    Nate shuddered at the thought of law-breaking juvenile. Why must Valencia get mixed up with such people? Why?

    He was barely able to catch the water bottle in time when it was thrown at him, and he looked around the deserted area. "Where are we going?" He asked curiously, trying his best to follow Florence as they walked down the path. Nate wasn't exactly equipped for hiking, and his tennis shoes sunk into the mud several times. He grimaced every time he lifted up his feet and heard a loud "SQUISH" in the air. And he muttered under his breath, as he tried to scrape off the bottom of his shoes on a dryer patch of land, "I hope you don't take Valencia up here also..."
     
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  19. "I did." He said, sticking his cane into the ground. "But she has her own boots. She even carved this stick for me." He mused to himself, almost pleased that he had the best girlfriend in the world. They wandered on, up hills and through bushes. Florence had to stop a couple times, to look through some trees and rocks, but he continued on well after.

    It took a good fourty-five minuets, but they were at the base of what Florence had come for. It was one of the tallest trees in the park, and on it were a few planks nailed to the side. Carved on the side was a heart, with V+F. Stereotypical, right? Florence tightened his bag, spat on his hands, and climbed up the tree effortlessly. Once he got up a good way by the latter, he simply hopped from branch to branch, till he was up in a more of a loft-looking building.

    The tree grew into an old deer-hunting station. It took a lot of wood, power tools, and refurbishing to make the shack, but it was beautiful in the end. The roof was a mixture of wood and leaves, and the inside was decked out from wall to wall. There was even a small couch in there! Florence and Valencia had taken their time getting stuff from garage sales to make this a dream come true. It was all theirs.

    He smiled, and tossed his bag down. Once he did, he headed over to a near-by box that had some relationship momentous. Florence knelt down, and looked through the box, to see if there was anything he could use to try and find her.
     
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  20. Nate could barely imagine Valencia dragging herself through the mud like this, but then again, she had always been a bit on the tom-boyish side. He sighed, oh the things Valencia would do...

    When they finally came to their destination, Nate was panting. He was exhausted to say the least. At first, at the sight of the tree, Nate couldn't believe that they nearly tortured themselves by hiking all the way over here... For a freak'n romance-typical carving on a tree!!! He was just about to express his disbelief and concern for Florence's not only failing lung-health state, but also Florence's apparently failing mental state. How is a tree suppose to hel-

    Oh... Oooh... Oooooooh.

    When Nate saw Florence hop up the tree like some sort of insanely nimble monkey, he finally understood why they were there. At first, Nate stood there with awe. Did he created the entire structure? Or did Valencia help - did Valencia even know how to use anything helpful in building a building? Nate didn't think so... So, Florence had to have done most of the work.

    "It looks kinda... awesome..." He said aloud, although he wasn't quite sure Florence could hear at the distance he was.

    But despite all of his awe and admiration, Nate knew what was coming next. And man, he certainly wished he was part monkey like Florence was.

    It took Nate a good 10 minutes to climb up the tree. He nearly collapse on the floor when he finally entered the structure and he groaned a bit. "Please, no more exercise..." He muttered, before lifting himself back up again. He winced a bit, as he could already feel the muscles getting rather sore. Oh, the things he would do... He finally looked around to pinpoint Florence. When Nate did, he walked over to the said guy, and looked down at the items he was looking through.

    "She was probably kidnapped by a stranger," Nate commented, although he also took the time to examine each photo as presented. "I'm not quite sure how past items would help in such a case."
     
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