[center][h3][color=FF407E]Rebel[/color][/h3][/center]

With a content sigh, Rebel scribbled along on her tablet, a barely audible tune hummed from her laptop's speakers. It wasn't hard to get back into the groove of her previous life living with her family. She was already shut in from the world, blinds closed and the bedroom was lit by her laptop screen. 

Perfect.

Or at least it was for the quite short time at living in Maple 801-101. Up until the [b]SCREAM[/b] of terror and possible of someone being violently murdered. Who knew? Rebel was very in the dark as to why someone thought it was okay to ruin her peace. Not to mention for her jump in fright, managing to throw her poor darling laptop at the opposite wall of her mattress. The battery popped out, as if also trying to escape from the cries of a probably dead person. That also meant that the art piece she worked on was closed out, much to the added horror of the onion.

[i][color=FF407E] I haven't saved since we were driving…[/color][/i] Tears welled up at the thought of all her hard work being all for nothing. With a huff and sniffle, Rebel rose from her bed. Tears streaming still down her face as it looked like she wouldn't be getting any sleep anytime soon. And also the fear that this apartment building was filled with murderous fiends.

That being said, she figured maybe a bit of air would calm her down. And or allow the murderers to find her and end her suffering of art and deadlines. Either or, a gentle breeze could be felt when she opened the door to the balcony. The sight was rather nice, the town spread out, the landscape framing the scenery just nice. Just the way the fluffy clouds hung in the air, square and fluttering in the wind and-

Wait.

She reached over the railing, catching the supposed clouds, realizing they were paper. She flipped the page, and froze, becoming as solid and still as a victim of Medusa herself. The paper was covered in detailed anatomy sketches. Detailed in the sense there was no censorship and those under 18 shouldn't see such graphic images. And of course, there on the corner of the page was her own onion shaped watermark. 

[color=FF407E]"What the…SHIT!" [/color] Rebel could only yell in alarm (although not on par with the previous shriek) as she noticed equally inappropriate doodles blew out of one of her open boxes filled to the brim with said pieces. She jumped and flailed, trying to fish for the papers from the breeze, but there was just too many and it seemed mother nature was a fan of smutty art. That being said, the tears came back and she retreated with a few papers clutched to her chest, shutting the door to save the last of her dignity and artwork.

She peeked through the blinds of her window as the physical manifestations of her shame were littered across the property for all eyes to see. The only bright side that made her cascading tears glisten would be that her actual name wasn't signed on the papery rainfall of obscenity.