- - - LOSING THEIR MINDS

[sylent]

THEY’RE PULLING IN THE BACK SEAT
they’re generating steam heat, pulsating in the back seat

[/font]
• • • • • • • • • • • HAYDEN CALLAGHAN ![/font][/color][/font][/size][/center]

When it came to the goings on of Riverdale high, no one knew them quite like Sylent did. Curious and always in search of a good story, Sylent made it her business to make everything her business. She tried to make sure she knew everything about everything, especially when the RSOR was involved. She couldn’t help but want to know everything about everyone. She was a journalist, it was who she was. She had spent a lifetime chasing stories that no one else would do, stories that nearly got her killed on several occasions. There was no denying that Sylent, or Nellie if you were in the RSOR, was a determined person. Once she had a story in mind she would stop at nothing to do it, which she had proved in her first lifetime when she broke an imaginary record. With the clothes she had on at the time, other than several necessary changes of underwear, and a bag of essentials she had made it across the world in seventy-two days. Sylent was quite proud of all that she had accomplished in her first life, so of course she was eager to do the same in this life.

The girl sat in the library in front of her laptop, preferring to use the computer her grandmother bought for her over the school’s slow and very public ones. Her fingers flew over the keys as she typed up a story about the Halloween dance and haunted maze. She had been graced with the task of writing about them for the school’s paper, and she definitely had a lot to write about. It had been an eventful night, to say the least, and she needed to get this article done. It was pretty easy considering some of the other stories she had covered in her past lifetime. What she was doing right now was really no challenge in comparison, but she would take what she could get. Pushing her platinum blonde hair off of her shoulders, she adjusted the Cookie Monster hat that she wore backwards and went about her typing. Sylent was dressed quite colorfully today. Underneath of a Union Jack sweater she had a pink bikini top rather than a shirt, a pair of gold pants covering her thin legs with heels on her feet. A green belt hung off of her waist and served no purpose other than decoration, as did the two necklaces she wore and the dozen bracelets. She also had two rings, shutter shades hanging off of the collar of her sweater, and a Domo bag sitting on the floor under her.

Sylent took a moment from her writing to lean back in her chair and scratch the back of her head, pondering over how detailed she should be with the haunted maze. She often had to remind herself that this was just high school, and she had to be a little less wordy with her stories. There were angry parents to worry about, so she supposed she could just add an “oh, and this happened” paragraph near the end. Sylent chewed on her lip as she continued to lean back in her chair, eventually leaning a little too far. Sylent and her chair went crashing to the ground, a yelp escaping from her. The librarian and several students turned to see what the crashing was, but once they had the answer they went back to whatever it was that they had been doing. “Owww,”

[/color] she whined as she stood up and put the chair back upright. “That was not in my plan,”[/color] she muttered to herself as she sat back down. [/justify][/blockquote]words: 607
outfit: clicky!
lyrics: the ramones, blitzkrieg bop
notes: - - - [/blockquote]

[Hayden Connor Callaghan]

Hayden Conner Callaghan. In the library. That had to be some sort of an oxymoron (emphasis on moron since we're talking about Hayden). Libraries were quiet places for studious students to go and study or enjoy a good book or use the school computers. Hayden was not a quiet person by any stretch of the imagination. He was not studious at all and the only things he bothered to learn were new skateboard tricks, new songs on his guitar and how the FUCK you get past Blaze at the end of Mortal Kombat Armageddon with Tanya. Do you ever bother throwing fireballs at him since Blaze is made of lava? Y'know. Fire with fire? Or do you go at him with a bunch of kick attacks? Or do you just give up and move on to fight with a hotter character, like Mileena?

...Hayden also didn't need to use the school computers. He had his own, kick-ass Mac laptop back in his dorm — hurray for the one perk of having a mafia-connected family. Was connected even the right word? His family WAS the mafia. His mom was the boss until last year. Now his brother was the leader and he avoided cops because his sister, Miranda, had taken dad's place in the police department and she protected Bronx. ...No one could ever take dad's place, in Hayden's opinion. No one. No one could ever laugh like dad did. No one could ever smile like he did. No one was as strong as dad was. No one was as clever, witty, funny...no one was dad. And Hayden's stepfather — as nice of a guy as he was — couldn't fill the hole in his heart that was put there when dad died. But I digress.

So why was Hayden in the library with a large stack of books in his arms and no skateboard to be seen? It was actually his skateboard that had gotten him in the library this fine day. Hayden had been rolling down the halls on his skateboard. This wasn't something he normally did seeing as it was very much so against the rules, but he was late to class and he could skateboard faster than he could run. So, he threw his board under his feet and started speeding down the halls. He probably could have made it to class only a minute or two late, which was excusable. But fate was not in his favor that day. As Hayden turned the corner, he slammed into someone. And that someone happened to be the principal.

And now Hayden was serving detention in his own personal hell. A library. A fucking library. His skateboard had been taken away. He had to be quiet and he had to put away a ton of dog-eared books. The only way this would be worse is if "Margaritaville" was on constant repeat and the devil was standing next to him, laughing and sipping on margaritas, denying Hayden access to one. That would suck so much dick. Hayden would probably try to pull one of these heavy shelves so it could fall over and squish him and kill him. Luckily, there was no music. Or "Margaritaville". Or devil. And unfortunately, no margaritas.

His arms were killing him from carrying all those heavy books. Hayden put the last one in his stack back on it's respective shelf and gave an exasperated sigh. One stack done. Five more stacks to go. Did the librarian do anything or did she depend on all the dentention-ees? He sighed again and ran his fingers through his auburn hair. He'd be here until 5. He just knew it.

He turned and went back to the desk and asked the librarian for the next stack. He leaned on the desk as he waited and looked around at the nerds currently in the library. It was the usual crew hanging out, but then his eyes landed on a girl with shiny pants. To be honest, his eyes were attracted to the shiny pants and wide arrangement of colors before he saw who was wearing those pants and clothing. Sylent. His eyes went wide before he looked away so he wouldn't stare. ...But he couldn't help but look back at her out of the corner of his eye. She was-...she was something else. He wasn't sure he'd ever been attracted to a girl like this before. Most girls he thought were hot, he walked straight up to and told them so and then asked for a kiss and possibly access to their pants. But Sylent was different. Being around her made him really nervous and he didn't know what to say and...and he really liked her. But she probably thought he was a dork since he wasn't even able to walk up to her and hold a normal conversation.

He took the stack of books from the librarian and started walking back to the shelf, forcing himself not to look at her as he passed her. Suddenly, he heard a crash followed by an “Owww”. Hayden turned around and looked past his stack of books to see Sylent getting up off the ground and picking up the chair she'd just been sitting in. People were staring at her, but no one went to see if she was okay. In a strange burst of courage, he put down the books he was holding and went to her and stood behind her. "Are you okay?" He asked. Then he realized something. What if she didn't recognize him from the dance? He was wearing a mask after all. With a grin he said, "Barack Obama does not approve pretty nurses falling."

Dorky? Yes. But that was the best thing he could come up with.

[/font]


WORD COUNT: 960
LISTENING TO: fall out boy
COMMENTS: i'm barack obama and i approve this post.[/font]

[sylent]

THEY’RE PULLING IN THE BACK SEAT
they’re generating steam heat, pulsating in the back seat

[/font]
• • • • • • • • • • • HAYDEN CALLAGHAN ![/font][/color][/font][/size][/center]

Sylent was quite fond of her family this time around. Having had a broken family her first time on this earth, it was nice to have one that was relatively close. Sylent remembered her old family as if it was yesterday, easily able to recall her father’s death and her mother’s remarrying. She remembered despising the man that her mother had married, an abusive alcoholic who had nothing better to do than be a waste of time and space. He had not been a very enjoyable man in any way, shape, or form. Why her mother had married him was beyond her guess, but at least it had allowed her to grow as a person. If not for him she wouldn’t have turned into such a headstrong person. Okay, so one good thing had come from her broken childhood, but she had definitely had much more good from the family she had this time around. Having a twin brother to share everything with was a really nice feeling. She had always wanted siblings, so having ones as amazing as the ones she had now meant a lot. Justice was the perfect brother a girl could have, clothes stealing aside. He was a good person and never let her down, though part of that was the fact that he was a reincarnation too. What she loved most about her brother was that despite being the more famous of the two he let her have the spotlight. It meant a lot to her. Of course, her younger siblings meant a lot to her as well. Breezy and Journey were amazing people and they were both normal as far as anyone knew. Journey with his wild imagination and attempts at saving the world and Breezy with her headstrong and sneaky ways. Even her parents meant a lot to her this time around, even if she didn’t always like them.

Being raised by hippies had definitely been a new experience for her. She had never given much thought to the things that they taught her about. She would have never taken being a vegan into consideration before, but now she couldn’t stomach the thought of meat. Mind you, part of that was simply because she hadn’t been allowed to consume any for most of her childhood. By the time she had a chance to give it a try her body had already built up a sort of allergy to it. What bothered Sylent about her parents was more their methods to getting their messages across. Sylent had always been all for equality, a lot of the stories she wrote centering around facilities or places who didn’t give equal treatment people. She understood the good intentions of her parents more than most people could. After all, she faked mental illness to be able to get proof for her message to be put across. She didn’t agree with their methods though. They were a little too unorthodox for her tastes, which was why she preferred her grandmother’s way of raising them over anyone else’s. She was more traditional and had similar rules to the ones Sylent had lived be previously. She was also far more logical and while allowing her and her siblings to embrace their individuality she also maintained a strict household. While she had had plenty of chores to do with her parents, they allowed the kids to do whatever they wanted. Her grandmother had structure, which Sylent was a big fan of.

Falling down was not the kind of structure that she wanted and certainly not in the agenda she had set for herself. She was going to finish this article about the Halloween dance and who won the costume contests, and about the attack that was made in the haunted maze. She still couldn’t believe that someone she went to school could attack someone; then again this was a school of reincarnates. There was bound to be someone dark and malevolent within the group of students. As she picked herself up someone stood behind her, though she didn’t bother to look to see who it was just yet. She waited to be standing on her own two feet with the chair sitting on four before turning to see who it was. At first she had no idea who this guy was, and then he spoke. “Aw, how nice of him,”

[/color] she purred teasingly as she sat back down and closed her laptop. “But I’m not a nurse today, I’m just regular me,”[/color] she shrugged. She felt kind of guilty for not knowing his name outside of Barak Obama.[/justify][/blockquote]words: 766
outfit: clicky!
lyrics: the ramones, blitzkrieg bop
notes: - - - [/blockquote]

[Hayden Connor Callaghan]

He wondered where his sense of humor came from. Well, he knew where his dark sense of humor came from. His family was full of that...they were also full of something else, but we won't go there. That's naughty. But actual humor? Yeah, he didn't know. His family was pretty serious and they ran a strict, deadly business. Where he'd learn to take a joke, he wasn't sure. After all, Bronx was serious, Miranda was serious and mom...mom seemed serious. Hayden wasn't sure. He sort of remembered dad having a sense of humor. So maybe it came from him. Eh. He wasn't positive. He was just thankful he wasn't a serious hard ass like everyone else.

But that's not to say growing up in the Callaghan house hold was complete shit. It had it's perks and fun times. Grant, they were pretty rare but they did exist. Growing up, he really could get anything he wanted. His lifestyle was comfortable and the family never really had to worry about money. They just got it. The means of getting it was questionable and...really, really illegal, but they had it and Hayden grew up not worrying about who's blood was spilt to pay for his new skateboard or iPod or clothes. Sort of a "don't pay attention to the man behind the curtain" deal, you know?

And as far as laughs go, he had a few with his brother, Bronx. There were some good pranks they pulled on Miranda. There were a lot of laughs Hayden could remember with his father. Dad joked around a lot. Dad made Mom smile a lot, too. Hayden could remember the car rides he took with his father when he was three. He clung to those memories since it was all he had left. Yet, cling as he did, memories got fuzzy. It was hard to remember exactly what dad looked like, even through Hayden was told he was an exact copy of his father when it came to looks and even bits of his personality. He couldn't remember what Dad's laugh sounded like...

But one of his fondest memories of home wasn't even with his father. Or his brother. It was with his mom. Hayden was five years old. He'd had a bad dream and he was frightened. It was just an unwritten rule after dad died, you never go into mom's office or room. You never bother Mom. Hayden didn't know what possessed him, though. He rose from his bed, the teddy his father gave him clutched close to his chest, and he left his room. He left and ran to mom's room. When he didn't find her there, he ran to her office and found her there, talking with two tough-looking men in suits, no doubt they were working out a "business deal". Still, Hayden ran in to the office and ran to his mommy, seeking comfort though he honestly expected to be yelled at for interrupting. However, what she did surprised him. She looked at her son, bent over and scooped him up in her arms. She dismissed the two men she'd been speaking too, and she held her youngest son close to her. She sang softly to him and cradled him until he stopped crying and eventually fell asleep in her arms. Hayden could still remember the warmth and love in her embrace and the sound of her heart beneath his ear when she held him close. It was that memory he held onto that reminded him that Mom may actually love him...sometimes.

Perhaps it was memories like that that aided in shaping Hayden into who he is today. Perhaps if that tender moment with Mom never happened, Hayden wouldn't love women as much as he did...and perhaps he would just be this wad of emo kid.

But as it stands, Hayden really, really, really liked the opposite sex and Hayden was a goofy kid who had an alter ego the entire school knew of: Barack Obama. Unfortunately, this girl only knew him as Barack Obama. He could tell by her expression when she turned and looked at him. Well...he'd fix that...after he gandered at that beautiful face, of course.

“Aw, how nice of him,” That purr. My God, that purr. This girl. It was crazy what an effect she had on Hayden. To him, a girl was a pretty object with nice tits that he really wanted to touch. But this one? She was much more, though she did have a pretty face and nice tits...but that just seemed to be a perk. This girl...she was smart, she had a certain style about her and...God, she had him bad. He barely knew her, but she had him tightly wrapped around her finger.

But he had to play it cool. Like James Bond. James Bond always plays it cool and he ALWAYS has sex with the girl by the end of the movie. Hayden had to be cool...otherwise, he'd never get the girl in the end and he would end up like the guy in P!nk's song "U + Ur Hand".

"Barack Obama is a man of the people," Hayden said with a smile, "He cares about everyone's well being." ...Right? That sounded smart. Whatever...cool people weren't always smart. Like Brett Favre. Wait, that's a bad example. Ignore that...

Sylent sat back down and closed her laptop and Hayden sat down across from her at the table, secretly wondering if that was too bold of a move. “But I’m not a nurse today, I’m just regular me,”

Regular Sylent was just as good as Sexy Nurse Sylent. ...Wow that made her sound like a Barbie doll.

"Then, I suppose I could be just me for today as well," He said before outstretching his hand to her for a handshake, "Hi. I'm Hayden. Hayden Callaghan." And hopefully, he didn't seem like a douche bag. Because impressing Sylent mattered to him. A lot.

[/font]


WORD COUNT: 1006
LISTENING TO: The Black Parade (Like the entire album) - My Chemical Romance
COMMENTS: whoops. got carried away talking about his family...[/font]

[sylent]

THEY’RE PULLING IN THE BACK SEAT
they’re generating steam heat, pulsating in the back seat

[/font]
• • • • • • • • • • • HAYDEN CALLAGHAN ![/font][/color][/font][/size][/center]

For Sylent there was nothing more rewarding than working hard at something you wanted. While having everything handed to you was easy, there was no satisfaction in knowing that you didn’t earn what you have. Sylent loved having to work her hardest for the things that she adored doing, like her journalism. While right now she wasn’t really writing anything serious, since this was just high school, but she was still determined to get on top. Sylent could always look at having a second chance as a chance to do something new with her life, but she didn’t want to do anything else. Sylent wanted to write and she wanted to be writing for one of the biggest names in journalism. It was her passion, so of course she was going to put her heart into it. Sylent didn’t half-ass anything she did, not in her past life and certainly not in this one. If she hadn’t given journalism her all she would have never made it, since women in positions of power was still not common back then.

The time period that she had grown up in her first time around it was hard to be a woman. Mind you, it wasn’t as hard for her as it could have been given that in medieval times women could be killed for being too determined. Sylent had never been good at keeping silent, which had not put her in good graces. It probably didn’t help that she had picked racy topics, which she was determined to do this time around as well. For her, celebrities and cats stuck in trees wasn’t news, wars going on across seas was news. Now that it was much easier for a woman to become a journalist she didn’t have so much to worry about, but the field was still rather competitive. She knew that she would have a lot of work to do and she thrived off of that. Sylent clung to the fact that there was one thing that would be easier, gender roles, but she also clung to how competitive it was going to be. Sylent was a passionate and spirited person about everything that she did.

Dating was part of that, though she hadn’t had the time for much romance in round one. She had married, sure, but it was short lived. She had loved Robert, he was a good man, but they weren’t together for very long before he died. She almost felt like she hadn’t gotten a chance to see what love was all about given the busy lives her and Robert had lived, which she looked for now. Sylent was by no means easy, but she was a bit of a tease. She couldn’t help but be confident enough in her body to show it off every now and then. She also couldn’t help it if guys assumed that she would give it up to everyone who wanted it. So perhaps she led guys on every now and then, but could you really blame her? She was looking for another Robert, and so far none of these guys fit that. This guy, Obama, was showing a few of the requirements that Sylent had for her future Robert, but not enough for her to give in just yet. She was unable to keep in a giggle when he stated that Obama was a man of the people. That he was. “It’s be less work,”

[/color] she teased when he agreed to be just him. She took his hand and gave it a small shake. “Well, Hayden, it’s nice to see you without a mask on,”[/color] she smiled. “And thank you for coming to my rescue.”[/color][/justify][/blockquote]words: 615
outfit: clicky!
lyrics: the ramones, blitzkrieg bop
notes: - - - [/blockquote]