Post by FLETCHER MYLES ELLIS on May 16, 2013 19:03:44 GMT
 [style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]ENOUGH WORDS FOR HOUND! DREAM [/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;] as much as fletcher loved his family, as much as he loved to be out and social, he needed some away time. he needed time to himself, as dangerous as that was. after all these years, his heart still had issues. the doctors had thought it would be better after the surgery, and while it had allowed him to live, it caused a plethora of problems for the male later in life. he didn't mind them, though, since he knew other people had worse problems. even though the doctors had no idea if his heart would let him survive past twenty - five, there was a chance for him. that chance was what he believed in, what kept him going; the chance that he would be normal allowed him to overlook what the worst - case scenario could be. after all, it was better than terminal cancer. [/style]and the need for some peace is what brought him to the park at almost midnight. luckily for him, even the usual " bad boy " groups were hanging out there tonight. there was probably some big party going on that was taking their attention . . . that was good. fletcher didn't really want any humans - or worse, hunters in disguise - around him tonight. he was planning on practicing some of his firetaming skills; of course, he wasn't going to be working on anything big. actually, fletcher was more worried about the smaller skills. he wasn't really good at controlling finer streams of fire or of lighting and extinguishing fires from a distance. yeah, he should probably have those completely mastered at his age, but they were an on / off thing with him. sometimes he could control fire really well in all ways, but sometimes he fell short. he didn't know if it was due to his heart or not, but it was just how things were and there wasn't anything he could do about it. naturally, the first place fletcher headed to in the park was where the swings were. every since he was little, he'd loved the swings. they made him feel like a kid again, now, which was a feeling he never denied himself. he liked feeling like a kid; if fletcher had the choice, he would never grow up. nope, he'd be peter pan, always a kid. for a moment he realized that he actually could do that; he could be younger forever, could never grow up . . . but he wasn't about to give up his soul for that. and more importantly, he wasn't giving up his power over fire to live forever. without his fire, fletcher wouldn't really be an ellis. and if he wasn't an ellis, what was he. who was he? no one. he wouldn't be anyone. pushing depressing thoughts aside, fletcher started absently swinging himself slightly. he chewed on the inside of his cheek and put his hands in front of him, concentrating on making as thin of a stream of fire that he could. after a few seconds, a barely noticeable line of fire appeared between his hands. he experimented making it thicker, then thinner, then moving it, then letting it go out. he smiled at the success. he then started trying to light some of the grass about twenty feet away; just a small one, and once it was started, he let it burn out. fletcher was a little disappointed; he had been wanting it to be an off day for him so he could figure out a way to overcome the offness. well, he figured he could at least master these little things a bit more before he went back home. fletcher took a deep breath and tried to focus on the small fires his mother had created, accidentally remembering how she said he'd never need it. she had gone straight to the big fires, the fancy tricks, the essentials - but what if he needed a tiny, controlled flame? the male was throw out of his musings by the sound of a guitar playing. it was nice and relaxing, yes, but that was the distracting part! fletcher looked around for the source of the noise - he'd realized that meant there was a witness to his practice - and found that it was a boy a little ways away. fletcher was torn. he loved meeting new people and saying hi, but . . . he was out here to be alone! his leg fidgeted as he thought of what he was going to do. after a few moments, his normal habits got the better of him and he stood up, heading to the boy and the source of the noise. as he got closer, even through the lack of good lighting, the boy looked really close in age to him . . . and really cute. not in a gay way - nope nope he was totally straight - but still. he could think guys were cute, couldn't he? fletcher smiled when he got closer to the boy, crouching down to be more at his level. " that sounds really cool. what's it called? " even if it had been a popular song, fletcher was pretty oblivious to them. |
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