[ Right you are sir ] OPEN

[Callen Zz]

[[ Fake it if you're out of connection[/size]

I should know, I make 'em. Ah Ipods were a heaven sent thing. Especially Ipods with the Sweeney Todd soundtrack on them. Which probably added to Callen's odd look today. A ty-dyed tutu, black skirt over that; and a black shirt. But who cares really? Not like Callen really was affected by the random stares that people were giving her. While walking along the street. Sighing, Callen looked down at the next song up; skipping a few. To the next semi up beat song. Pirelli's Miracle Elixir. Who couldn't love this play? The music was the opposite of the plotline; so giddy. "Wanna buy a bottle mister? Only costs a penny gaurenteed!" Callen sang, randomly grabbing a guy's arm on the side of the road; who automatically pulled away and walked away. Callen laughed to herself, enjoying how she embarassed everyone else for some reason.

Though once again the idea of someone hating her never bothered her. Callen grew up in such a negative area that she was use to hatred by now. The fact she use to be in a gang might also be the issue. But she wasn't exactly sure. She never was. People seemed to only want to befriend her when it was in their best interest. Say, a fight was coming up soon and they just needed someone who's use to fighting for her life. Or maybe they just like watching her suffer so to speak. Though in Callen's book it was never exactly suffering. It was just how life always turned out to be. One large shit hole pie that you're forced to swallow....Which just happened to remind Callen of how hungry she was. Wow she never realized that before just now.

The girl could be starving and not notice it. Probably the reason she's managed to stay so thin all these years. Callen sighed, walking slowly over to the entrance of one of the clubs. Her hand resting on the door handle softly. She hated big crowds. But then again if she hated them so, why was she out today? Cause she felt lonely... Figures. That's what you get when you refuse to talk to anyone or even become their friends. And how many years have you lived here now Callen? And have yet to try and attempt a friendship with anyone of these wandering fools? No wonder back in Chicago so many people avoided her. Her hand slowly let go of the cold metal handle and fell back down by her side.

There was no point in going in if she was just going to get mad at everyone and cuss. Or cause some sort of scene. So instead, Callen decided to continue her walk on by herself. Turning, Callen started back down the cement sidewalk. Her dully grey eyes flowing up to the gray sky. Ironic isn't it? Not in Callen's opinion. Biting her lower lip for a minute Callen debating on what to do next. "There's a hole in the world like a great black pit. And the vermon of the world inhabit it. And it's morals aren't worth what a pig could spit. And it goes by the name of London..." Of course, Callen just stood there and sang to herself softly. She blamed this city for her misery. Since we all know it wasn't her fault. "At the top of the hole sit a privilaged few. Making mockery of the people in the lower zoo. Turning beauty into filth..." Pausing, Callen looked down as she heard something.

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[Ilandra Petrelli]

What seems so strong



Has been and gone

A grey morning.They always were. The sun seemed scared of the city of London, always hovering out of reach. No-one really wanted to go near the city if they had a choice. and if you thought of it, everyone did...in the end. She herself could packs her bags and leave. Leave behind the Academy, sell the harp and make a new life somewhere different. Knowing Ilandra, it would be back up to Scotland, back up to the farmlands and rolling hills. Much more interesting running up Golf Hill instead of around Hyde Park. She'd never been a city girl, and she didn't want to turn into one. She was a hardy lass, didn't mind what people thought of her, and she had enougb ideas of what she thought of them. They were all entitled to their own opinion and so she believed she was welcomed to her own. She'd always been opinionated and it was one of her qualities. She could judge someone from a mile away, or just from a picture. A profiler in the making, since she was very oftern right about people.

Blonde hair whipped around her neck as she turned away from the window. Her pale eyes scanned across the empty dorm. This wasn't the first time the dorm had been completely empty when she'd been in there. No-one else seemed to be around, or she was just the only Sixteen year old. Well, only sixteen for a few more days. Two and three hours to be exact. So, two days until she was seventeen. What was so special about being seventeen? What was the great power in being a year older? Nothing she could see, she was just a year older, another candle on the cake. She'd never seen the great thrill in another birthday, her parents never celebrated them, so she didn't see the enjoyment. Being brought up without them made it almost impossible for her to see the point. So she didn't try.

Ilandra left the dorm building, pulling on the long blue coat. It wasn't the one she usually wore, but the other one was safe at the dry cleaners. After the incident at the London Eye, it had needed a good wash. Covered in London muck. The blue one wasn't as expensive or really as nice in her opinion, but otherwise she liked it. She liked all her coats really. It was a typical London day: cold and drizzly. It wasn't even proper rain. At least in Scotland you actually got some real rain. More than rain, thunderstorms. Real wood cracking, house shaking thunderstorms. Either that or snow. You never got snow in London, just pathetic slush along all the streets. If it snowed in England, the world shut down for Ol' England. They just didn't know how to handle it. The blond musician shivered as another load of rain fell off the rooftops above her, creating a large puddle just behind her. Oh great, just when she needed, wet ankles. One thing she couldn't stand, wet ankles and she was only wearing pumps. Maybe a stupid thing to wear on a wet day, but it looked just so much better than boots with the jeans. That was one good thing about London, you could buy a good pair of jeans for under a tenner. Hard to do that in the middle of Langholm, where there were no shops to speak of.

She didn't really have any plans for the day, so she thought a wander would be in order. Her wander took her up the ling streets, packed with Londoners and tourists alike. She didn't really have anything against tourists in general. But they could be slightly annoying. They were tourists. Ilandra sighed, brushing back her long blond hair. Exactly like a walking cliche. She'd stopped caring after a few months at the Hoff. She couldn't go down a corridor without someone thinking her sweet and cute. Oh adorable young blond with blue eyes playing a harp. It had made her sick before, but now it didn't mean anything. Not really. Ilandra's eyes cast up and down the street. On a day like this, you could see at least one Hoff student, if you were unlucky. Her eyes fell upon a familiar back of the head. How could she forget that head. She smiled, flicking back her hair. Annoying hair. She crept up behind Callen, making sure her pumps didn't click on the cobbles. She must've looked as if she was stalking prey to a passer-by. She straightened up behind Callen and jumped on her shoulders, landing with a light thud infront of the artist.
"Hello." She said cheerfully, smiling her usual happy smile at her friend.

I would call you up every Sunday Night



And we'd stay up 'till the morning light