((Hey, Jen. I'm gonna start this, just delete it if it pisses you off.))
Cigarettes and ramen and a little bag of dope
Lynn stepped off of her bus, crashing forward into the kid in front of her. "Sorry." She muttered, dropping to a knee and shoving all of her stuff back into her bag. She avoided eye contact with the kid and instead brushed past and headed into the school, still feeling that freshman feeling of fear.
I am the son of a b***h and Edgar Allen Poe
She paused once she was inside, closing her eyes for a second and letting the familiarity ring through her senses. Cafeteria food, babbling of friends, the temperature that was twenty below whatever it was outside. She pointedly ignored the feeling tugging at her to show these humans just how different she was.
Raised in the city under a halo of lights
She opened her eyes and stepped to the side, clutching her binder to her chest and watching the colors and people flash in front of her, praying for the bell to ring soon.
The product of war and fear that we've been victimized
Lynn hoped against hope that this year she could just get through with pretending to be human. No freak-outs because of a vision (7th grade), no overwhelming urge to feed on her class mates (8th grade), and definitely no scaring a potential boyfriend with her larger-than-normal fangs.
That would be bad.----------------
She's the symbol of resistance
Crista stepped out of her car, brushing her hair back into a ponytail while glancing around herself. She didn't see anyone else, but didn't assume that that meant that there weren't anymore Night People here.
It
was Havenbrook after all.
And she's holding on my heart like a hand grenade
She caught a joke form one of the other Iroquois boys about her feathers hanging from her Scrunchie. She turned and secured him with a glare until he apologized, no longer being able to hold her stare anymore.
She sings the revolution, the dawning of our lives
She tossed the waist-length ponytail over her shoulder, and headed up the hill to the school, ready to fight once more this year. It didn't help that last year she got into a fight with that traveling witch, who had merely asked
(demanded quite rudely) for directions.
Crista, it's our job to bow before the others in the Night World.She brings this liberation that I just can't define
Her mother's voice made her clench her fists and stomp harder on the hill, successfully making her shoe sink into the mud, causing her to pitch forward into said mud.
"What a great way to start the year."
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