[center][h1][color=FFC0CB]Poetry Bluebell Carolina Sundance[/color][/h1]
[img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/37bc73d04056a7e6da5e423b3d569aa8/tumblr_inline_ob55i99STy1scq4k2_500.gif[/img]  [img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/fa2f3fed5146365f8f6dff375574cd4f/tumblr_inline_ob55i4mHUV1scq4k2_500.gif[/img]
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[hider=Mood Music][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kcmwXUdDCE[/youtube][/hider]
Lᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: The First Day Festival
Iɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs: No one in particular 
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Poetry hummed softly to herself, swimming through the crowd, each step like that of a groovin' dance, with a twirl here and there. She didn't have any money to spend on the festivities, but she enjoyed the cheerful atmosphere. And it was a nice day. Why let anything get her down? She could create her own amusement. The sun was playing in her hair and the gentle breeze was her dancing partner. Today she had just woken up with spring thick in her veins, and her grandmother always said that you should listen to what your body needs. Well, today Poetry needed to dance.

Reaching out a hand, she spun about a pole that held up one of the game tents. Letting out a laugh, the spirit-like girl ignored the smirks and laughs at her odd behavior. It wouldn't make her change who she was. They could stare and laugh and say anything they liked. They'd get bored sooner or later. So she just giggled in amusement as she waltzed and drifted between the games, her silver gold halo flowing gently behind her.


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[img]http://cliparts.co/cliparts/8iE/6yR/8iE6yRj4T.png[/img]
[h1][color=gray]Oberon Demetrius Grimbald[/color][/h1]
[img]http://orig06.deviantart.net/91da/f/2012/204/9/9/luke_worrall_by_thehattercrazy-d58bfz4.gif[/img]
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[hider=Mood Music][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMrZSidHID4[/youtube][/hider]
Lᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Bleachers
Iɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs: Not a one...
[img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/9c7d4065afe4f6dfbd141fbfa5feed68/tumblr_inline_n1xc7ezaUN1rb3m8r.png[/img][/center]

Oberon watched with subtle interest. The bruises on his stomach were aching in protest at his sitting position, so the lanky boy is black leaned back in the shadows atop the bleachers. His dark gaze scanned over the people who appeared to be in his grade. 

[i]Miss prim and proper blonde... 
Miss hiding blonde... 
A photographer and an athlete who appeared to be brothers... 
Yet another Miss blonde with simple yet elegant fashion sense and could pull off white... Miss shy brunette trying to make friends... 
Miss aggressive and loud bottle-blonde... 
A brawny guy and a fox of boy with an energetic red-head... 
A boy trying not to get caught checking out girls... 
Some weird hippie... 
The boy who had come in far later than the others and out of breath... 
Shy boy in black sweats... 
[b]Completely boring and entirely sub-average looking[/b] kid who probably thought he looked good in black, when he simply did not... 
Miss girl-next-door... Tough guy... Athlete... 
Tree-tall grim guy who's smile wilted half the students in the entire school...[/i]

He went through the list and as it grew the more relaxed he became. These kids didn't look vicious or violent. Well, not the majority of them anyway. And boy was being blonde 'in' this year. And wearing black too, apparently. Well, imagine that. He was fashionable for once. The slightest of smiles haunted his pierced lips. Perhaps luck would be on his side and they wouldn't take their entertainment in the suffering of others. His smile vanished.

[i]....Doubtful.[/i]