When I Pray for Sun it Rains [Open]

[Drizzle Janice Benetto]

I'm ALIVE! I'm ALIVE! Oh, yeah!
between the good and bad's where you'll find me
Reaching for Heaven!



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Whoever knew Drizzle well enough would be able to tell that she was upset. Though she was trying not to show it, her mood affected her music, and made it quite obvious. Whenever Drizzle was stressed, her songwriting - and general taste in music - switched unpredictably from happy, jumpy songs to the saddest ever written. Right now, her iPod was on shuffle and kept up switching from one artist to another, one genre to another and one emotion to another. And it wasn’t helping, much.

The sophomore was hiding away from her friends and acquaintances in the music room, where she sat in a corner with her eyes closed and her headphones on, holding her red Fender Stratocaster in one hand, listening to ‘November Rain’. It was one of her favorites, but at the moment it was just making her depressed. It didn’t help that she knew it was inspired on a sad love story, which was exactly what was bothering her. She opened her purse and stared blankly at the wedding invitation. Her father had sent it and she hadn’t even bothered to open it yet. She didn’t want to read it. It would just make her hurt even more. The problem was… well, Drizzle couldn’t picture her parents without each other. Damn, seven years after the divorce, and she wasn’t over it…

… wait. Don’t think of that.

Yeah, it was better not to think of that. So she opened her bright brown eyes and stared into a wall for a bit before reacting, grabbing her guitar and starting to play it. There was this one random song her cousin’s girlfriend used to sing all the time… she wasn’t sure of what was the song’s name, but she loved it.

”Nothing I say comes out right,
I can’t love without a fight,
No one ever knows my name,
When I pray for sun it rains.
I’m so sick of wasting time,
But nothing’s moving in my mind,
Inspiration can’t be found,
I get up and fall, but…”

Her voice rose higher with every note. Those who knew Drizzle as Janis Joplin would know how much energy, and spirit she put into her music. How much feeling she put into it. Hey, she was a blues singer! Blues reflected emotion and feeling, and any experimented blues singer would know that, the more emotion you put into it, the more ‘soul’ it had.

”I’m alive, I’m alive
Oh yeah, between the good and bad’s
Where you’ll find me,
Reaching for heaven,
I will fight, and I’ll sleep when I die
I live my life, I’m alive!”

At that point, Drizzle was already up on her feet and dancing around the music room, not caring who would see her or anything. She was so caught up in her song that she pretty much tripped and crashed into a drum set, thus knocking it over and toppling over. Cymbals, bass drums, and pretty much the whole set landed upon her and her guitar and she groaned lightly as though in pain. Really, receiving the drum set didn’t hurt… only the fall. A light throbbing on her head and a sting on her wrist made her notice she probably had a few minor injuries, but she could deal with those.

…but that would hurt tomorrow. Surely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I will fight!
and I'll sleep when I die
I live my life! I'm ALIVE!

Words: 555
Muse: I'm Alive - Becca (that's the song she's singing)
Tag: Open
Notes: LULZ, drumroll. XDD

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

"Just go to the music room, Mr. Azizi, and get my USB with the label "Rise of Mussolini & Hitler", please. It shouldn't take so long." Iskander sighed, got up from the desk in his history class, and headed out into the hall. His teacher, DuPoint, had gone by the attendance list to decide who was to go, and with a last name starting with A (albeit A-Z) Iskander had found himself the one on the top of the list, and thus chosen to take a quick run down to the music room. If truth be told, he didn't mind that much, but he didn't feel he had business in that room. He wasn't musical by any means and had never taken a music class; as a result, Saladin had only been in there a handful of times over the course of four years. This would make the fifth trip there.

He went down a couple of the narrow back staircases, which took him closer to the music room than the main staircase, mind caught up in the unit they were doing, the essay that would soon be due, and his work as a bellboy in the Riverdale Hotel. Why, only yesterday he'd been there and this middle aged woman had wanted to share roomservice with him, he'd caught her squirming about upon the bed hen he had come to inform her of roomservice...it had been very strange, and disconcerting and he was hoping she wasn't going to be there for another night, or he'd see if Luke could take his shift. If anyone did owe him a favour, it was Luke, after all the trouble the other boy had given housekeeping, he ought to have been fired, if not for Iskander's quick thinking and diplomacy skills.

The dark-haired senior reached the doors to the music room and opened it after a knock and a pause. No one class to be in, but the door was unlocked. He expected to see a teacher inside, but no, he saw a girl playing guitar and singing, and not a girl he particularly liked - Drizzle Benetto. She was just too crazy. Even so, he gave her a nod before walking to the teacher's desk and scanning it for a USB. He didn't get very far in his search, however, before he saw something out of the corner of his eyes, and turned briefly. There was was, dancing for no apparent reason. He had a hard time think of her in a positive light, with all the random hugging she'd done...he didn't think highly of random hugs when people might not want them at all.

He turned back to the desk, and was just about to life a small pile of papers to check under them, when cacophony made him jump about a mile. He turned around, to see Drizzle under a drum set and guitar. Far from being amused, he looked annoyed. But, at the same time, he couldn't ignore that and go on looking. He'd be late, but he'd just have to explain that someone had knocked over a drum set. "Are you okay?" He asked, as he shifted some of the stuff off her. "You really should be more careful." Well, how was this for awkward?

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words| 586
tagged| Drizzle / Ani
notes| Just for fun. xD

[Drizzle Janice Benetto]

I'm ALIVE! I'm ALIVE! Oh, yeah!
between the good and bad's where you'll find me
Reaching for Heaven!



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ouch...

Brown eyes blinked blearily as everything - the ceiling, and the walls - started to spin, forming a circle of blurred colors and images. She had to close her eyes briefly. Now, wasn't this embarrassing? Even though Drizzle's sense of dignity was ... kind of vague, this was going to be a certain blow to her ego. As a little kid, she was usually pretty clumsy; and her energy didn't help much; it caused her more injuries than any other normal kid. She was usually full of small cuts and bruises, and sometimes bandages, but as a little girl that never bothered her, much. Moreover, she found it to be quite fun. Now that she was sixteen and had better control over her clumsiness, it was just awkward. A part of her mind - the one that wasn't spinning with dizziness and confusion - was screaming at her for being such a kid.

Then again, she was always like that. She ...kinda deserved it, no?

A voice cut her from her thoughts as the weight of the cymbals was lifted from her small frame. "Y-yeah.... um, thank you,"she answered, shakily, and stood up, quickly fixing her hair and clothes. Iskander's remark that she should be more careful made her blush and take on an almost guilty look, though it faded quickly. "I know, I just forgot that drum set was there. The stress does that to people," she answered meekly, trying to move her left hand. It stung a little, but it didn't really hurt much... at least, she could move it. If it started to hurt, she'd go have it checked. At least her head had already stopped hurting; the walls stayed where they should.

Once Drizzle rushed over to pick her guitar and made sure that it was completely unscratched and none of the strings had snapped, she moved to put the drum set back together, lifting the cymbals, drums and everything else up with whatever strength she had - which wasn’t much, really- and once she was done, she let out a light sigh, and looked over to Iskander. "Umm, you were looking for something, right? Can I give you a hand?"she offered with a grin. True, she didn't really interact much with him outside RSOR, but she wanted to be on good terms with him. That... that was something, no? Even if he refused her help, it was the intention what mattered. That was how she saw it, at least.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I will fight!
and I'll sleep when I die
I live my life! I'm ALIVE!

Words: 415
Muse: The Time Warp - Rocky Horror Picture Show
Tag: Dante & Iskander
Notes: Fail post

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

Some people were capable of being reborn, but that didn't mean they fully had their wits about them. He knew he lost his wits sometimes, that Joan of Arc was a idiot when it came to much math, and Richard the Lionheart had a lousy choice for a girlfriend (not that he'd say). But Drizzle just seemed to have moments of losing her wits, well...a lot. However scathing his thoughts may have sounded, Iskander believed them, and didn't mean them that meanly. They were his observations, like his observation that his religion had been shot, raped and spit upon in this era. That one was personal, though, unlike his issues with Drizzle. And as such, Iskander felt obliged to give her a hand.

Iskander picked up some cymbals off her, and set them on the ground nearby, upright this time. He didn't even know how to play a cymbal. He knew to hit it, but he doubted anything melodic would happen if he did. Music and Iskander weren't friends, which, he supposed, was something he ought to give Janis credit for. He didn't know how she just...made music. He wasn't nearly so spontaneous, that was for certain. "You're welcome." He said, rather curtly, then pondered her next words. Stress? From what, twirling around? There were quite possibly other things going on in her head, though. He'd give that much, and before he wholly knew, he spoke again. "What stress?" He hoped the incredulous tone was minor enough that she didn't catch it, otherwise his words would be quite rude indeed, something he didn't intended. He honestly just meant, what stress? He didn't want Drizzle's life story, an answer like "school" or "work" would suffice for him, anyways. His thoughts here his, his dialogue public, and so the latter had to remain neutral or kind. Moreso given that as she constructed the drum set, he stood there like an ass, because he had no idea what to do with it. The sultan looked sheepish at this, and the best thing he could do was pick up some sheets of music and put them back on the stand they had come from, not knowing what to say on the matter.

"Oh, you don't need to give me a hand." Iskander said with a shrug. "Not if you don't want to." After all, all he'd done was lift some papers and a cymbal, which he hadn't even put in 100% the right place. "I'm just looking for a USB on Hitler, for class, that's supposed to be in here, though I can't imagine why they'd put it in here."

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words| 491
tagged| Drizzle / Ani
notes| None