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Post by Harley Fraser-Buchanan on Jul 29, 2012 19:34:52 GMT -5
 Harlington Fraser-Buchanan[/size][/color]
It was quite a lovely evening. The heat had broken and left the air mildly warm and humid, lightning bugs starting to flash their lights and choruses of crickets beginning to sing. Children ran around with Mason jars, hands grabbing at the floating lights and sticking the little bugs into the clear jar. They giggled, running around and waving the jars, screaming with glee while jumping and reaching with grabbing hands.
While the children were all out in the park's field, Harley wandered past, hoof pick in a back pocket while his thumbs were stuck into the side pockets. He enjoyed watching the children prance around, listening to them have a grand spectacular time chasing down those bugs. He himself wouldn't mind just forgetting the world and catching insects, forgetting all his responsibilities and just acting like a kid again. He was pretty much still a kid at heart; though he had a job and was living partially on his own, his maturity level certainly dipped down often. Why grow up fast?
Entering the playground, he walked across the wood chips to the swing set and sat on a swing, the tips of his shoes the only part of him connecting to the ground. Harley began gently sway to and fro, his hands on his knees rather than the chains. He was quite content just sitting by himself, but part of him wanted to find someone to talk to. Grey eyes scanned their gaze across the colorful features of the playground and then drifted over to the field full of children, watching those amused faces dart around among the lightning bugs.
HORSE: n/a NOTES: n/a
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Post by baileys lillie tyler on Jul 29, 2012 20:15:15 GMT -5
 B A I L E Y S . T Y L E R* ;;
Baileys sighed, pulling the hoodie up tighter around her head. A long journey it had been, from taking the last stuff back from Scotland to America. She reached a pale hand up to her eyes, rubbing them as her hand clenched into a fist. Dressed in a light blue skirt and hoodie, her red converse trudged across the Park. Despite the hazy look of everything, the blonde girl could see the true beauty of this place. With fireflies buzzing around and the happy giggles of children drifted through her ears, a small smile crept onto her face. With a heavy yawn she fiddled with keys inside her pocket, not looking at where she was going. With her feet were dragging along the ground, it was no wonder how they got caught on a bench leg. With a little stumble, she stopped herself from falling by catching onto a wooden post, the hotness rising in her cheeks. Glancing around a bit, her mind soon settled with a comforting thought of, she didn't know anyone yet. Her eyes slowly looked up, with her mouth slightly parting. A small squee left her mouth, her brown eyes growing wider and eccentric as she basically bounced on the balls of her feet.
A playground!
With a little skip she rushed into it, feeling like a little kid again. With bright eyes and a beaming smile, Baileys watched with joy as the small children ran around catching bugs in the setting sun. For a split second she frowned, wishing she herself had a jar to run around with. But she shrugged it off quickly and with a quick skip she was heading towards the swings. She loved swings, just the feeling of flight as you swung back and forth, almost like jumping over a water jump. She was at a full sprint, determined to reach a swing before they were all taken. With a last quick leap she skidded to a stop, her converse flicked woodchips every where. She blinked a couple times, focusing on a guy her age, rocking back and forth slowly on a swing. With a small huff, she decided he looked too sad. Her eyes focusing on the swing beside him she skipped over and landed on it softly, immediately starting to sway up and down. "I challenge you, to a swingin' competition," her eyes narrowed but a friendly smile came upon her face, as the smooth Scottish tone rang from her lungs.
them them them
talk talk talk
think think think
W O R D S * 411 ;;
T H O U G H T S * its grand. ;;
M U S I C * silence ;;
T A G G E D * harls ;;
R I D I NG* nopony ;;
C R E D I T S * bruno mars' lazy song ;; |
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Post by Harley Fraser-Buchanan on Jul 30, 2012 10:18:21 GMT -5
Harlington Fraser-Buchanan [/size][/color]
A soft, muffled "thump" sounded behind him. Harley turned his grey eyes to look at the wood chips, seeing his hoof pick half hidden in the wood. Using his feet, he propped himself back a few steps and leaned down to pick it up, deciding to hold onto it rather than stick it back into his pocket.
As he came back up he noticed a girl come running in his direction, appearing much too happy to be at a sprint, and quickly claimed one of the swings beside him. He watched her curiously as she swung back and forth enthusiastically, talking to him with such a familiar accent that he couldn't help but stare at her, bewildered. It wasn't everyday that Harley met someone from his home country and instantly he wanted to just hang around her for the familiarity. He was oblivious to the narrowing of her eyes and the atmosphere of competition. "... who are you?" He asked, his own accent matching hers quite well, only slightly diluted from nearly five years spent away from Scotland.
HORSE: n/a NOTES: Really bad post. D: Distracted by TV and cbox. xD
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