Little girls don't know how to be sweet girls.
Mama didn't teach me.
Little boys don't know how to treat little girls.
Daddy didn't show me.

The dark dress flapped in the breeze, the edges of the hemline lifting up, up, as if trying to reach the sky, floating down as the wind shuddered by. The weather was ideal today. Black ballet flats slapped against the pavement with an unhurried pace, the small feet inside belonging to a young woman creating that mellow stride. Children chasing dandelions in the light wind thundered past, their feet stumbling and tripping continuously, as if their imaginations were burdened by the clumsy appendages.

Music flowed in through the white earbuds in her ears, attached to a music played stored gently away in a hidden pocket of the dress. Around Emery's neck was a thick camera strap, which was securely attached to the black device that was currently held up at the brunette's eye level. The camera uttered a sullen beep, as if indignantly bringing it's owner to the realization that it's battery was low. Eyebrows narrowed curiously, Emery tapped the edge of the camera gently, watching as the battery meter on the LCD display filled to fully charged, a smile returning her face and the camera to her eye.

There was much to photograph on a day like today. More often then not, she found creativity in the oddest places. The more she snapped the shutter of her camera, the more the park seemed to give her. It was pouring itself out to her, unable to stop the steady flow of color, of life, of energy, dancing across her line of sight as if it wanted to be seen, wanted to be noticed. This city was alive.

Emery paused momentarily, adjusting the settings on her camera before beginning again. This time, her model was a set of tulips growing along the edge of the park itself, bright red splotches against a deep green backdrop. Satisfied with her sampling of subjects, she reached a pale hand down by her feet to grab the camera bag, hauling it up and settling her camera inside of it. Trotting over to the nearest bench, she sat, feeling satisfied. As she fiddled with the control dials of the camera, she looked up as she heard a nearby set of footfalls.

words: 367.
tagged: open.
status: done.

Little girls don't know how to be sweet girls.
Mama didn't teach me.
Little boys don't know how to treat little girls.
Daddy didn't show me.

Perhaps she was visually observant, but Emery wasn't always auditorily observant. Whether "auditorily" was a word or not was beside the point. Pressing another button on her camera showed her the image of yet another picture she had taken. This camera was the Nikon D40 her sister had given to her as a going-away present her freshman year at Netherfield Academy. There was another camera sitting back in her dorm, securely locked away with the help of an electromagnetic lock that only opened with the use of her powers. Even though there were many students at Netherfield that had varying types of electric ability, only she knew the amount of electric "zaps" that was needed to open the container, like a charged form of Morse code, or something. She was protective of that camera, it having been a 35mm that her mother had helped her buy.

The image she was currently looking at was of red tulips. She loved the look. Paying attention to the Rule of Thirds, Emery had positioned herself so that the subjects -- in this case, the tulips -- had appeared on the right side of the picture, the bulbs themselves in the top right corner. She smiled gently to herself as she felt a gentle breeze ruffle the edges of her dress. It was dark and made of a silky-smooth material that seemed to be at the mercy of the winds. Her fingers moved over the dials lightly, the clear layer of nail polish she wore reflecting just barely in the afternoon sun. Lifting her head up, she noticed a pattern of footfalls against the grass beneath her feet. She smiled as the other girl joined her. The red of her dress reminded her of the passionate red of the tulips. Nature had a serenity that she didn't seem to see in people anymore. Too many people walked with a rushed step, keeping their heads down and their eyes on the pavement. With such life and color amongst them, why look at the sidewalk?

The brunette sitting beside her spoke almost immediately, which she didn't expect. She seemed like she could place her in the back of her memory somewhere, right? Why did she look familiar? Then again, a good deal of people in Windsor seemed familiar for some reason or another. It wasn't a gigantic city. She returned a smile. "Hi, Annette. I'm Emery." She looked around for a moment before returning her gaze to her new bench-companion.

"Forgive me for sounding rude, but are you from around here? It feels like I've seen everyone in Windsor at least twice nowadays." Her smile was polite and warm, her eyes watching Annette's eyes. Her makeup was nice, she had to admit. Emery herself didn't waste too much time on makeup, not in weather like this. Cases were, it could get too hot and she didn't want to be stuck in the heat under a pile of gunk. Luckily, it hadn't gotten that hot today.

words: 515
tagged: annette williams // open
status: fini.
notes: the picture she's describing is this one. I took that :] It's the unedited version, lol.

Little girls don't know how to be sweet girls.
Mama didn't teach me.
Little boys don't know how to treat little girls.
Daddy didn't show me.

Emery followed Annette's gaze down to the display of the camera, a just barely registered grin gracing her features. She didn't mind, really. The colors of the day she was enjoying was so full of color, saturated, living color, and she was grateful to have had free time to enjoy it. When her favorite type of day was ruined by a schedule full of classes and errands to run or classwork to do, it felt utterly wasted. Not today. Today was a day when the reds of Annette's dress blossomed with vibrancy, when the green of the grass nearly shone like emeralds. Color fascinated her. She wasn't the kind of person to lecture those cooped up in their dorms all day about how they were wasting valuable sunlight and warmth, but she made note to take leisure in the weather when it was possible. Stormy days and sunny days were the best. During a storm, she felt truly alive. She could feel every jolt of energy, every current of electricity that flashed from above her head coursing through her veins, like she was connected to it all somehow. The fireworks show of the gods, she secretly called it. When she could let loose bolts of energy so magnificent and powerful in sheer voltage to dazzle the night sky, the light up the dark like day.

Netherfield? The mention of her own school brought her back to the present, having spent half a millisecond contemplating the weather and color. A smile spread to her own face, her fingers gripping the camera gently upon her lap, arms looped loosely around it to keep it from falling. Her hair blew slightly in the breeze, a deep, dark color against the vibrant blue sky. "Netherfield? I go there too. I'm originally from South Dakota, actually, but ... I've haven't met too many people who go to Netherfield around here." She glanced along the park, where people played and ate lunches, their children frolicking, innocence abundant in the nearly time-frozen sanctuary. It was nearly a reprieve of time, a photograph of harmony amongst an environment torn by issues more worldly than the next picnic lunch.

It reminded her of home, almost. The color, the nature, the life. It wasn't like the city, she remembered that much from her few trips. The city was too congested, even though it did have it's advantages. Technology, namely. There wasn't as many things with electricity within them in nature, except for thunderstorms, and those were not as prevalent as she would have hoped.

notes: thank you, very much! ack, this is bad and short, very sorry XD.
tagged: annette / open
status: finished, albeit lately and shortly.