i will not be sold }} caine

[Chess Lincoln]

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IS MORALITY REAL TO ME?

I thanked him quietly with my heavy accent that painted my words with color. The little Finnish girl in me was visible within my appearance. I mean, it was almost as good as one of those little websites that are like, “you know you live in Seattle when… you never bring an umbrella because you know you won’t melt” when it came to me. The difference was that, with my actions I didn’t seem Finnish at all. My appearance with sharp jawbones and lines with these striking eyes were enough to resemble my little north European heritage. I lit the cigarette and inhaled the toxins, handing the lighter back to the guy next to me. I exhaled the smoke and leaned back a little bit, moving the cigarette to the opposing edge of the bench that we sat on and flicked off the ashes that were about to fall off. I took another deep intake of the cigarette before looking back to my sketch pad and rolling my eyes slightly. “mitä vitun päivä.” I said softly in my native tongue before exhaling the smoke.

Once he said that he’d agree to having a drink, I nodded and stood up grabbing my tablet and such and thinking for a moment, flicking the ashes off once again. “I figure we can go to the bar here in the city. Its closer and less… college kiddy.” I offered the guy a smile before turning and heading to the bar, slightly hoping he’d follow me. I didn’t want to be there all alone drinking like what usually used to happen. Either way, I headed there whether or not he followed me. I didn’t even glance behind me to see if he did; I just went with it. Finally, reaching the bar I stepped in and up to the counter ordering a vodka from a friend of mine. I guess I came here so often that I knew a majority of the people. It was actually pretty funny to me. Considering I wasn’t even old enough to drink, but no one really cared at all.

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CAN I BELIEVE IN WHAT I CANNOT SEE?

outfit; here.
tagged; caine seymour
notes; continued!
translation; mitä vitun päivä. = what a fucking day.
inspiration; loser – cute is what we aim for

[caine davin seymour]

Her accent was familiar to him in a way, he couldn't really pinpoint where it was from but it was pretty cool actually. Maybe it was just that being born and raised here you hear the same words all the time that sometimes something new was appreciate and welcomed. Either way it didn't bother him. Caine nodded and took the lighter back, putting it in his pocket where knew that he wouldn't lose it. Many times he would place it down next to him and the next thing he knew he forgot it somewhere or it decided to walk off or something. She mumbled something that he couldn't undestand but the tone wasn't that of an exactly happy statment. He didn't think a whole lot about it, surely if she said something that he was meant to hear then she would have said it to his face. That was communication, right? Just like Caine didn't meddle in people's business he wasn't going to bother and ask. She would translate if she liked. She stood as they agreed to leave this place, this park. It was too happy for Caine right now, his sulky mood demanded alcohol and/or drugs and just somewhere not so full of people that actually enjoyed their lives. That was just Caine's point of view, he didn't know hers on the matter, though he could tell she wasn't all about the rainbows and butterflies either.

Sounds good. Last thing he needed was an overcrowded bar full of frat boys and barely twenty-one year olds buying drinks just because they could now. It irritated him, some people just wanted their drink and to be left alone, not run into or spoken to. She started walking, really without warning, and Caine followed her with his hands in his pockets wondering where she had decided to go on this interesting day. They approached the bar, finally, after a short walk and he took the stool next to her's. She got her drink right away, a regular, Caine ordered a beer for now. Depending how things went, what the conversation contained and whatnot he might switch to something more soothing. So, come here often? So much for an icebreaker, they were just here to talk and nothing else. It was nice, for once, to not be a loner or a hermit and participate in the college social life. His was so predictable sometimes that he needed that little change to make a difference and not make a plateau affect, you had to change it up a bit and keep it fun. Fun, however, did not ever change for him, just how you got it. The beer arrived and sat on the bar with an audible clink. Caine nodded to the bartender and took a drink, it was cold and refreshing, just what he needed.