Taking a walk { { O P E N } }


				Othello walked into the park, his fingers diving straight for his pocket as soon as he entered the secluded area. After glancing around to make sure nobody was around, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes. His cousin had given him several packs before he left for camp, because, well, Timothy understood that Othello would need them. He was thankful his cousin had done it, because Othello knew that his half-empty pack wouldn't have lasted him a week. Once he got the clear, plastic wrapping off of the precious box and opened it carefully, tapping the side, causing some of the cigarettes to half fall out. Othello grabbed one of the slender cancer sticks and pulled it out, then placed it between his lips before he close the box and put it back in his pocket. Then he lit it and took a long drag on the stick of poison that killed him, yet made life more bearable.

othello timon

With a sunken lie I lay in bed, but I will live to be twenty-three. And you’ll see just how clever I can be… Do you want to tie me up? Do you want to tie me down? Go ahead and do it now. So far, so good, let it roll, let it ride, ride. So far, so good, let us fall, let us fight, fight. It’s no fun on the sidelines. Driving backwards, wasting time. Young love is ruthless, so learn to fly. You taught me things I can’t forget. Positions that I don’t regret. I can’t walk away, and I can’t shake the taste.

Squirrel loved the park, so why not go? She'd been cooped up in camp all week and it was starting to get to her. She was a healer, so she'd always have to deal with the kids that got sick or wounded. It was kinda annoying actually, partially because she had a soft spot for people in trouble and because they couldn't just bump into another healer for crying out loud. She couldn't spend her entire life just waiting on demigods with injuries, it was boring and exhausting into the bargain.

A breeze ruffled her hair and she sighed. Gods, it was good to get away. This thought was instantly replaced by something far less complementary when she tripped over a root that was in the path. She didn't fall, though came rather close to it. With a dark glare at it, she continued on her way. Darn trees, she thought. Why can't the part that's supposed to be underground just stay underground? Someone's going to break their neck tripping over a root some day and I swear, it's not going to be me. Although, she added after a moment. I'm such a klutz that it probably will end up being me and then what... Jeez, I'm never going to hear the end of it back at camp. Can heal anyone and anything - except myself. Gods, WHY IS THIS WORLD SO MESSED UP?. The last part of the thought was followed up by a swift, angry kick to an innocent oak tree. This achieved absolutely nothing, other than probably making the tree pretty angry.

"I'm sorry," she told the tree earnestly. It just didn't occur to her that the tree wouldn't hear her, the spirit being off by the creek flirting with a satyr. "I'm just really distracted and one thought led to another and I ended up kicking you. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." She stood, expectant and waiting, for a few moments before realizing that the tree wouldn't answer her. Feeling slightly foolish, she started walking again.


				Othello jumped slightly when he heard someone talking. It sounded like a girl, probably somewhere around his age. He wasn't so sure. For a second, Othello debated putting out his cigarette, but he ended up going against it. He hadn't had some time alone to smoke for a while, so it felt nice to just let the nicotine flow through his lungs so he could feed his addiction. He almost laughed at the irony of it. Othello had given up a more dangerous addiction - drugs and alcohol - for a somewhat less dangerous addiction of cigarettes. He just found it so funny sometimes that he had basically chosen between a short life and an even shorter life. After a bit, Othello started to get curious as to who the girl was. There wasn't anyone else there, not that Othello had heard, yet she was still talking to something. An animal, maybe? Othello wasn't sure. Still, someone who spoke to apologize when there wasn't anyone else there had to be interesting, so Othello decided he'd introduce himself. "Hello?" he called out as he stepped out from behind the tree he was standing behind. It sounded as if the girl's voice was coming from somewhere on the other side of the tree, so he decided he'd look around there. He never moved away from the tree, though, just glanced around until he spotted the girl.

othello timon

With a sunken lie I lay in bed, but I will live to be twenty-three. And you’ll see just how clever I can be… Do you want to tie me up? Do you want to tie me down? Go ahead and do it now. So far, so good, let it roll, let it ride, ride. So far, so good, let us fall, let us fight, fight. It’s no fun on the sidelines. Driving backwards, wasting time. Young love is ruthless, so learn to fly. You taught me things I can’t forget. Positions that I don’t regret. I can’t walk away, and I can’t shake the taste.

Squirrel heard someone say something to her. A hello maybe. She shut her mouth and looked around. There was a Monarch Butterfly drifting lazily along with the breeze and a lark calling from a sycamore, but she didn't see any people. Not yet anyway.

As she took a slight step back from the oak, a curious scent drifted towards her. Smoke. She frowned. No, that was wrong. There was something different about this smell... smoky - yes - but it had a different taste at the back of her throat than that of a campfire hearsay. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Yes, she recognized it now. Nicotine. Someone was smoking.

Her green eyes flickered from tree to tree until she saw who it was. A boy, good-looking too, was the one. Standing by the same tree she'd been conversing with, he was taking long drags on a cigarette. She blinked her watering eyes and tried not to cough. His fluffy hair and narrow place seemed to clash somewhat, but she found the result almost comic. He was older her and just as skinny, which was odd for a guy. Weird, she thought. I wonder what he's doing here, apart from trying to find a place where he can smoke without being bothered.

It probably looked like she was staring at him, but that wasn't a problem for long because a cardinal took flight to land in a birch sapling. The tree seemed to be struggling to make it, for though it was Spring, the leaves were discolored and it looked like insects had been eating them away. It was a shame too, she loved birches. The cardinal chirped its disapproval and took off, a scarlet streak in the blue sky. Squirrel regarded the dying sapling, thinking off all that could be, completely forgetting the smoker only a few yards away.

After a minute of thinking, she snapped out of it and realized that she was probably being rude. "Hi," she said. Oh gods, that sounded so dumb, she thought. If she'd had a doppelganger. it probably would have rolled its eyes at her.


				Othello raised his eyebrow slightly, somewhat miffed by the girl's odd behaviour. Still, he just shrugged it off. He had come to terms with the fact that people at camp were different. Not in a bad way, no, not like that at all. They just...did things differently than people from the city. But he guessed that some of the stuff that he and his friends had done in the city was pretty dumb and weird, too, so he just decided he'd store the thought away for later, when he wasn't talking to someone. "I'm Othello, son of Melpomene. Who are you?" he asked the strange girl, actually feeling genuinely curious. He had a feeling her name would be interesting; people who talk as if someone is there when they couldn't possibly have known anyone was there never seem to be names something like Jessica. Even if they are, they usually have some odd nickname.

othello timon

With a sunken lie I lay in bed, but I will live to be twenty-three. And you’ll see just how clever I can be… Do you want to tie me up? Do you want to tie me down? Go ahead and do it now. So far, so good, let it roll, let it ride, ride. So far, so good, let us fall, let us fight, fight. It’s no fun on the sidelines. Driving backwards, wasting time. Young love is ruthless, so learn to fly. You taught me things I can’t forget. Positions that I don’t regret. I can’t walk away, and I can’t shake the taste.

"Name or nickname?" Squirrel asked this Othello character. His name seemed to fit his parentage, Melpomene being the muse of tragedy if she remembered correctly. It'd be a shame if that misfortune spread to his life... but judging from his looks it probably had. Too bad, he was really cute.

Her attention was almost distracted by an odd-shaped cloud slowly drifting past the sun, but then she snapped out of it again and she smiled. "My birth certificate says that my name's Sandy Harrison... though people just call me 'Squirrel'." With a grin, she shrugged her shoulders. "And you've probably already figured out why.

Because I have a hard time thinking about one thing for twenty seconds or more, she thought sadly. Because I can never focus on anything, no matter how hard I try. She saw that the cloud pass on and her thoughts shifted with lightning speed. She had a way of looking pleasantly confused, and she wore that look now as her eyes followed the clouds. Her gaze shifted as a swift flew by and took her thoughts to another place with it.

***

After waiting for a few minutes for an answer and still not getting one, Squirrel shrugged and turned her back on him. She felt bad for interrupting his peaceful day. Well, camp was waiting. With a faint sigh, she left.

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