here comes the s u n [open]

[jasmine]

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LITTLE DARLING, THE SMILES RETURNING TO THE FACES
little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
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<sup>The silence of the night didn’t last long in the Ahmed household. Jasmine awoke to a pound on her chest. It frightened her at first, but when she saw the yellow tinted eyes glaring into her face, she knew who it was. She blinked, and adjusted herself; the tabby cat was right in her face. “Ugh, King…” she muttered, pushing the tabby to her side. A low grumble in his chest erupted; she knew what that meant. Feed me. She propped herself up on her elbow, and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Is that what you think? That I was put on this earth to serve your every whim and need?” Another rumble, mixed in with a soft cry. That was a yes. And that was why he was named King. “You’re lucky you don’t have thumbs. Because if you did, you’d be getting your own breakfast every morning.” She pushed herself onto the hardwood floor, ready to open the door. King was pawing at it, as if he were trying to make it open on his own. She wondered if the way she treated him was normal. He wasn’t a human, but she treated him like one. She talked to him, shared “secrets” with him; sometimes, he acted more like a human than anyone else she knew. There was a look in his eye when she spoke to him, almost like a gleam. He understood her- well, maybe he did. Maybe she was going crazy. Talking to cats was a sign, after all.

King led Jasmine down the spiral stairs, past the living room, her father’s study, and into the kitchen. The door had a small flap, in case King wanted to get out. Jasmine knew the cat was rather restless. Beside that door was a food bowl. The maids refused to tend after the little “animal,” which left Jasmine to feed him on her own. She didn’t mind, of course. It made her feel normal. Like a kid, taking responsibility for a few hermit crabs they bought in Myrtle Beach. But King was pretty easy to deal with-- he just required your undivided love and affection almost 24/7. That is, if he liked you. He wouldn’t leave you alone then. But if he disliked you, he only wanted to be left alone. Jasmine was the only one he trusted and liked. He hated her father, for some odd reason. Her father hadn’t done a thing to him, but ever since he brought King home from the animal shelter, the cat pounced and whacked his paws at the rich man in scolding manners, as if he’d been doing something wrong. Jasmine found it adorable; her father, not so much.

She dumped a few kibbles in his bowl, smiling at the crunching noise his teeth made as he munched. She pondered on what she’d make for herself-- none of the “help” seemed to be present, which meant she could put her own waffle in the toaster oven this morning. But then she remembered, there was a brand new world, waiting for her to explore out there. This was her third day in North Carolina, and she intended to make the best of her situation. Her father wasn’t around, nor were any of those dreaded maids, which meant she could wander off on her own. She ran a caramel hand down King’s back as she ran past him, and back up the stairs.

She changed out of her tank top and pajama shorts, and into a new outfit that she bought a few days before. Well, the jacket was new. She’d had the purple tank top and Converse for quite a while. But you could barely tell they’d been worn.

Not having her own car gave her the advantage of fresh air. She could afford one with her father’s money, but Jasmine had weird ideas about cars. She preferred walking. She’d heard anecdotes about how her picky preferences were great for the environment, and she supposed that was nice. She knew that one person didn’t really make a difference, though, and it was stupid to think otherwise. She watched as a red car whizzed past her on the road. Exactly-- even though one person preferred walking, it was a thousand to one that preferred driving. And that was just the reason why her stupid ideals wouldn’t change a thing. She figured she could’ve gone out and bought a gas guzzler, and it wouldn’t even make a difference.

Town was a few minutes down the road from her big house, which was another plus. She didn’t really like her new home; it was like all the others. Much too big for she and her father, and it showed their wealth. She hated showing her wealth. But it was like she was unable to escape it. Everywhere she turned, she was surrounded by flamboyant people, showing off their money. It sickened her, but that was the life she had been taken into. And escaping was impossible.</sup>

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LITTLE DARLING, I FEEL THAT ICE IS SLOWLY MELTING
little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
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tagged; open.
lyrics; here comes the sun by the beatles
notes; First IC post, whoo~
word count; 837.
outfit; here
credit; to brooke from caution

[Basil Lochlan Holmes]

• THIS PART OF ME •
YOU'LL NEVER KNOW
THIS PART OF ME
I'LL NEVER SHOW
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Toby the Basset Hound was one of the most singular, frustrating aspects of any given day in Basil's life. The puppy had a terrible tendency to drool, chew, howl, and generally make existence difficult for anyone living within ten miles of him. If he wasn't gnawing passionately on his violin's bow, he was urinating happily upon his books, or running off with his pipe.

Or he was getting himself in such a state of filthiness that a bath was required.

Now, Basil was not a friendly person. He didn't do nice things out of the goodness of his own heart, and his conscience was fairly foolproof against the misfortunes of daily life. He could walk past any sort of beggar without feeling a pang of guilt. That was simply his nature.

Yet something about the good Mrs. Judson could always hit some moral fiber within him. Perhaps it was her obvious struggle with some things that compelled him to cart laundry about the house diligently, or to take care of Toby when she was too busy with other things. Whatever it was, it was most annoying.

"Come along now, Toby. We both know you can't avoid it."

The puppy squirmed passionately in his grip as Basil approached the bathtub, holding the dog at arm's length as the reek of garbage wafted off his fur. The damned mongrel had gotten into the dumpster for the second time in a week, and Mrs Judson had asked imploringly if her tenant would mind giving him a quick scrub while she dusted.

Hence he was armed with doggy shampoo, rubber gloves, and some of his older clothes. Under his arm he toted the 'Toby-bucket' to dump water over the fleabag, and in his mind he harbored the notion that this was like going to war. It seemed easy enough, but it never was.

Toby whined again when Basil held him above the tub, making doggy-paddle movements before his stubby legs had even come in contact with the pleasantly warm water. "Come on, old boy! It's only in and out. No fuss, no problem." Good God, he was consoling a dog.

The bath went extremely well for the first five minutes. Toby allowed himself to be soaped and rinsed with only two instances of trying to squirm his way out. Basil even successfully avoided getting sprayed too badly when the mutt decided to shake himself partially dry.

Then he made the mistake of removing his hand from Toby's neck to grab at a towel to dry him off.

There was a flurry of movement, a yell of outrage, some splattering water, and then the chase was on. As quickly as Toby had darted from the water, Basil was at his heels, barreling out of the bathroom just in time to see Mrs Judson open the door to empty a bucket of water. Toby, apparently, had seen it as well, and before Basil could give a warning the dog was gone, out onto the street.

"Mrs Judson, do you enjoy making things harder than they should be?" He ground out, hauling on his coat and grabbing Toby's leash and collar. He slipped into his running shoes while his landlady sighed against her hand. "I hope he doesn't get struck down by a car..." She lamented.

Basil was out the door before he replied. "No need to worry. I'll have him back within the hour!" He called out, setting off at a quick sprint to catch up with the pup, who appeared to be running for the sake of stretching his stout, little legs.

"Toby! Toby" Basil sped up, waiting for the dog to fall victim to his usual mistake of stopping to sniff at whatever strange scents lingered on the sidewalk. They were approaching the less populated area of Walten, which indicated a lesser chance of Toby getting himself killed by a car. Though, Basil couldn't imagine many of the owners of these expensive houses would enjoy a basset hound howling away outside their doors.

It seemed Toby was quite content to come to a halt before a passer-by, snuffling away at their shoes. He was oblivious to Basil's stealthy approach until his collar was snapped around his damp neck and his unlikely pursuer straightened up with a sigh.

He looked at the young woman Toby had become preoccupied and tried his best to look less winded than he felt, smiling very slightly. "I do apologize." He said stiffly, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm afraid he slipped out the door by chance. He didn't bother you very much, did he?"

Well... this was a strange situation to be in...

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/center]
WORDS ?! 971
TAGGED ?! Jasmine Hala Ahmed
OUTFIT ?! click
LYRICS ?! endlessly by muse
TEMPLATE ?! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
[/size]

[jasmine]

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LITTLE DARLING, THE SMILES RETURNING TO THE FACES
little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
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<sup>Jasmine felt ridiculous. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she felt like the eyes of the people in the red and blue cars zipping past her were staring through her. A young girl, one with no disabilities or reasons for people to dislike her, walking all alone, on a beautiful day. Was it such a crime? Of course not; Jasmine had never been one to care about what people thought before. She lipped off at her father, the housemaids, the limo drivers, basically anyone that insulted her or made her feel “inferior,” in a sense. But it was driving her crazy now, when it shouldn’t have bothered her at all. She didn’t know anyone in Walten, nor did they know her. She and her father had no family in the little burg, so chances of someone knowing that the famous Ahmeds were moving into the gated grey stone brick house down the street were slim to none. So even if they were staring-- and they probably weren’t-- why was the thought haunting her?

She supposed it was a social thing. Not ever having friends or anyone her own age to talk her gave her a feeling, like everyone could read her-- it made her feel vulnerable. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable. Jasmine was the type to be sure of herself constantly, even if she was wrong. And even if she was wrong, she wasn’t going to admit it. It drove her crazy, because she was in the real world now. She wasn’t being protected by daddy’s private tutors or etiquette mentors. This was real life. Where people worked to earn a living, and money could get you anywhere. How badly she wanted to escape that-- but taking the real route sounded scary. She was willing to work, but she knew she’d be eaten alive. A rich girl, trying to earn a living on her own. What a joke.

She supposed looking around for jobs wouldn’t hurt, though. She could always work with animals, if they had a pet store around. Or even something simple, like a coffee house. She planned on saving enough money to move out on her own. Escaping the Ahmed name wouldn’t be easy, but Jasmine wanted to do it. Her father had always told her about how her home would always be with him, and he would hate to see her leave. After all, she was his only lifeline, aside from their living assistants. She took care of him. But being a young woman, Jasmine was more restless, and as rebellious as a teenager, even though she was in her twenties. Not only did she want to prove to him that she could do things on her own, and that she was not going to mooch off him for the rest of her life, but she wanted to show that she could take care of things if something ever happened. Jasmine necessarily didn’t want to run the company. In fact, she hated the idea of it all. It sounded so boring, so stodgy. She needed something with more excitement, and something that would keep her satisfied. Adventure.

Moving was always nice-- it gave her a feeling of renewal. The excitement of starting over, meeting new people. She never had the chance to do that before. She didn’t go to school with kids her own age, she just sat at home and watched all of them play together from her bedroom window. She was always alone, and practically resented almost everyone else with a real childhood. That was wrong of her, but everyone has their vices.

She distracted herself so well with her thoughts, the burning heat from the stares of the passer-bys fell into oblivion. She had more important things to worry about: her life was at stake here. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. She could only hope. But pulling herself away without her father’s help was going to be a challenge. But that made things interesting.

Jasmine wasn’t even into town yet, which was odd. Maybe they were farther out of touch than she thought. No other signs of life seemed to be out that morning; the gated habitants were still asleep, she supposed. In the distance, she heard the clacking of claws on the pavement, running her way. She was about to step aside and make room for the dog; he seemed to be in a hurry in the other direction. Stopping him would be tough, but she had to wonder who he belonged to. He came to a jilted halt at her feet, his fat nose inspecting her shoes thoroughly. She giggled, kneeling down to the dog’s level. “Nice to meet you too!” She spoke to it like he was King, back home. “And where did you come--” Her question was about to be answered by a man, calling the dog’s name. “Toby! Toby!” The dog looked up to her, and huffed. “I guess that’s why you were running, huh?”

The man slowed down as he saw the dog in the distance. How long had he been chasing the pup? The dog’s droopy eyes looked up to her-- how could something so cute be such a menace?

“I do apologize. I'm afraid he slipped out the door by chance. He didn't bother you very much, did he?"</sup>

[/I] He seemed like he was trying too hard to gain his breath once more.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! Really.” She bent down to the dog’s level once more, running a hand down its damp back. “He’s adorable! I’ve never had a dog before. What’s his name?”

A brand new experience indeed. The first person she’d met in Walten. [/sup][/blockquote]

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LITTLE DARLING, I FEEL THAT ICE IS SLOWLY MELTING
little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
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tagged; Basil.
lyrics; here comes the sun by the beatles
notes; Lack of muse = crap. D:
word count; 943.
outfit; here
credit; to brooke from caution

[Basil Lochlan Holmes]

• THIS PART OF ME •
YOU'LL NEVER KNOW
THIS PART OF ME
I'LL NEVER SHOW
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If not for their few and far between benefits, Basil would propose to have all dogs rolled up in carpets and thrown off exceedingly high bridges. His love of animals hovered somewhere between utter dislike and some slight affection for their uses in the criminal world.

Therefore it irked him when people gushed over Toby like he was the newest sliced bread, simply because he was an adorable puppy with enormous sad eyes and a tail that simply would not stop wagging. Call him crazy, but Basil failed to see the appeal in such a creature. He did like cats, though. They were independent and smart, but they still had a capacity for affection.

Dogs were dependent for comfort and cuddling and all manner of ridiculous activities that Basil wanted no part in. Like fetch. God forbid he resent throwing a squeaky ball, only to have it returned to his feet, sopping wet with saliva. It was a useless practice anyway. It would be easier to just train Toby to pick up scents, yet Mrs Judson was in the habit of watching television shows regarding the subject and pointing out that canines required a certain amount of play every day to be happy and healthy.

Well, he fed the blasted thing twice a day and walked it, so it ought to be healthy. As for Toby being happy, it seemed that was inevitable no matter what Basil did. Therefore, the problem(in his mind) was solved.

“He’s adorable! I’ve never had a dog before. What’s his name?”

Never had a dog? Well, that was lucky. Basil rather wished he had not been plied with all manner of animals as a child. He and his brother had never shown any interest in them until he had learned that dogs could be used to track scents along the ground. Even then, he hardly wanted the damn things for playmates...

Ah, wait. The young lady had asked a question!

Basil realized in an instant that he had probably just spent two minutes staring over her shoulder with an utterly disconnected look in his eyes. Ah well, he couldn't help but fall victim to his own mind from time to time.

"His name?" Well, hadn't he just been screaming it as he ran down the street? "Ah, Toby's his name. He's not actually mine, either, I'm afraid." The puppy decided that this entire conversation was too dull to stand by listening to, and dragged his lead towards one of the grassy lawns, snuffling about. For every step that he took, his massive ears flopped around his feet, and Basil sighed, hiding his face with his hand, when Toby successfully tripped over his own ears and fell down. Oh good God... this was why he didn't walk the blasted thing when people were around.

"He belongs to my landlady, and I just happened to be bathing him when he pulled his great escape." Blast... was this the part that he had to introduce himself? Or was he supposed to wait until she said something? Oh, he did loathe these social happenings. "My name is Holmes, by the way, miss." Agh! No! You had to include first names! First names! "Ah, Basil Holmes." He blinked awkwardly several times, then bent down to scoop Toby up, feeling the need to have something to distract his fidgety hands.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

WORDS ?! 728
TAGGED ?! Jasmine Hala Ahmed
OUTFIT ?! click
LYRICS ?! endlessly by muse
TEMPLATE ?! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION

[/size][/center]

[jasmine]

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LITTLE DARLING, THE SMILES RETURNING TO THE FACES
little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
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<sup>She knew it was coming. She was actually dreading it. She’d learned how to introduce herself properly by the etiquette mentors and those horrible tutors her father brought to the house every once in a while. Still, she didn’t know… how to go about it. At her father’s business parties, someone always introduced themselves first, or her father introduced her to them. Jasmine had never met someone outside of formal occasions… so how was she supposed to do this casually? It was probably a small thing that she was paying too much detail to; but she wanted to make a good impression. Even though the other man didn’t even seem to care. He’d been standing above her, looking out into the distance of the street, as if something interesting had captivated his attention. Well, that broke etiquette rule number one of introductions: always keep eye contact. But Jasmine was never really one to follow those rules. So she silently praised him for it.

She cleared her throat to get his attention, and didn’t even get as much as a second glance. Her brow bent for a moment, but not in frustration. It was more of the fact that he was just standing there, not saying a word. Was he trying to think of an answer? She hoped it wasn’t that hard. It was the dog he was running after, anyway. While she waited, she paid more attention to the dog, who seemed to be craving it. He was rolling over on his side, forcing his head into her hand, just so she would rub his ears. It was quite adorable. King was the same way, always nosing for affection. Well, from her. If it was anyone else, you could forget it.

If King were here, he wouldn’t have been happy. King loathed other animals. Of his species or not. Once, when Jasmine was about thirteen, King went out and tried to fight a dog three times his own size. She came to the rescue, despite her father’s warnings about never getting in a fight between animals. But she wasn’t about to stand by and let her cat and only friend be murdered. He didn’t even have claws, for Christ’s sake. Her little kitten didn’t stand a chance. Of course, out running that large dog wasn’t an easy task, especially when she had to make sure King wouldn’t lunge over her shoulder and onto its back. That was one of the few plus sides about always staying close to home. Someone had to keep an eye out for King, after all.

Finally, the man spoke, rather abruptly. No introduction had come yet, so she was fine.

"His name? Ah, Toby’s his name. He’s actually not mine, either, I’m afraid.”</sup>

[/I]

Toby was now waddling into the grass, managing to trip over his own ears. Jasmine had directed her attention to the pup with a smile. She was listening to the man… but who could resist that? Apparently, he could. When she looked over, his palm was covering his face. Jasmine bit her lip, to conceal the smile, and her brow bent. Once again, who could resist that little puppy’s face? It was so odd for him to fight it; or maybe that was just her love of animals speaking.

"He belongs to my landlady, and I just happened to be bathing him when he pulled his great escape. My name is Holmes, by the way, miss.”[/I]

... And there it was. Her jaw lifted, almost in disgust. What was she doing?

”Ah, Basil Holmes.”

She tried to hide the look of disgust; the look wasn’t meant for him. It was for herself. But she couldn’t just stand there, staring off into space like he did for an hour. She had to speak.

"Nice to meet you.”[/b] Did she hold out her hand now or…? “I’m Jasmine.” The biggest part of what she’d been dreading: her last name. Maybe he hadn’t heard of her father’s oil company. It was unlikely, but it was worth a shot. She had the choice of leaving her name out, but he’d given her his last name… so it was only fair. Maybe he wouldn’t even make the connection.

"A-Ahmed…?”[/b] Nope, not awkward at all. “Jasmine Ahmed.”[/sup][/blockquote]

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LITTLE DARLING, I FEEL THAT ICE IS SLOWLY MELTING
little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
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tagged; Basil.
lyrics; here comes the sun by the beatles
notes; Social awkwardness for the win.
word count; 709.
outfit; here
credit; to brooke from caution