A Star is born! (May 2009)

[Delilah A. Black]

Ah, the courtyard. Best place to relax after a long day of avoiding classes as though they were the plague. Especially gym. Stupid Winklewood. Stupid pool. And stupid swimsuits while we're at it.

"Bah," Delilah muttered, lifting her feet up against the wall she was laying near, her body forming a ninety degree angle Don't think about that right now. Just focus on the music.. Nodding faintly in agreement with herself, she cranked the music on her iPod and let the sweet sounds of Nirvana take her away, blocking out the sounds of everything else.

*CLICK*

Delilah opened her eyes, suddenly feeling exposed, but all she saw was the sky. She stared blankly ahead of her for a moment more before shutting her eyes and going back to the music.

"Speaking of music..." Delilah opened her eyes again and swung her feet back to the ground. She crouched for a moment as she turned her music down, then stood, arching her back inwards with her arms over her head in a stretch and promptly left the school, unaware she was being pursued.

***

"Mizz Bleck, you seemply must try zees platfrom shooz I bought ze uzzer day. Zey seemply do not go wis anysting I own, and zey are much, much more your style, no?"

Delilah sighed. "I told you, Candice, I'm not interested in heels. I can't walk in them and they hurt my feet."

The petite french woman sighed and shook her head full of Marilyn Monroe-esque curls. "Maybe zat ees because you are, 'ow you say, a 'beast'?" Just looking at Delilah's unamused frown was enough for the woman to relent, albeit reluctantly. "Fine, fine, do vat you please. I vill be in ze backroom, but I vill be leaving zeese shooz right 'ere for you. Vill you be buying today or ordering?"

"Buying, I think..." Delilah called back to her as she stroked the rosewood neck of the vintage Fender Telecaster in her hands. She sighed as Candice sniffed disapprovingly and walked briskly behind the curtain of beads where her storeage room lay. Sometimes the owner of the antique instruments shop could be so pushy...sometimes Delilah thought that the only reason Candice let her in was that Delilah could speak some French.

Delilah lifted the guitar to her hip and strummed a few chords, her eyes trailing back to teh high-heels Candice had left on the floor. She felt a pang of guilt and tried to ignore it, continuing to play a random riff she pulled off the top of her head...until the shoes caught her eyes again.

=____o

"Agh, it won't kill me..." she kicked off her boots and slipped the shoes on, giving Delilah at least an extra four inches in height. She tried walking in them, but felt the heel wobble a little, and put the guitar in her hands down to stabilize herself, and in doing so, dropped her guitar pick. Delilah rolled her eyes skyward and she bent at the knees to pick the thing up.


*CLICK*

Delilah's head came up and stood carefully, looking for the source of the clicking noise. "Candice? That you?"

"Vat ees me, Mizz Bl-" as she came out from behnind her beads, the older french woman let loose a squeal of delight so shrill that Delilah swore a window across the street broke. "OOOOH MIZZ BLACK! ZOSE SHOOZ ARE TRE FANTASTIQUE! You seemply must take zem, I inseest!"

And the clicking noise that had distracted the mechanic was suddenly forgotten as she tried to convince teh vhement Candice that the heels were not nessecary in her line of work, a little more wary, but otherwise unknowing of the man who stalked her with his camera.

***

Back at school, Delilah would be found sitting in detention, caught upon her return for her tool belt that she had left in the shop room. Other than some guy sitting beside her with his hoodie down all the way up and the hood thrown far over his face, the room was empty. Tapping the edge of her pencil restlessly on the desk in front of her, Delilah stared out the window, her gaze glassy, mind wandering

WrrRRRrRrrRRRRRrrrRrrRRrrRRrrr--kkka-chick!

"Goddammit..."

"Hm? Turning her eyes a little to the side, Delilah casually observed as the only other person was now turned away from her, fumbling with something in his lap. Something that mde continual clicking noises. Frowning, Delilah silently rose out of her chair and leaned over the hooded man, tring to see what he was doing.

He was reloading cards for his digital camera, a Canon no less. Delilah almost sighed with relief. Oh, She moved back to sit down as he began leafing through his photos. Just a camera.

Then she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the shots, legs up against a wall, a birds eye view.

Eyes going wide, Delilah didn't hesitate to reach forwards and snatch the camera out of the guys hands. He gasped, thrashing in his seat as he tried to get the pictures back. "Hey! Give that back!"

But she was already involved in looking at the pictures he shot of her, and there were a few apparently. One of her dozing off in class, one of her on the hood of her car, one where she was hopping along the train tracks, in the guitar shop, at the wall... when she looked back up at him, there was a definite twitch under her left eye. "You've..." she said in an eerily calm voice. "...been stalking me?"

"Wait, what?! No! Nonononono!!!" he waved his hands frantically in front of his face.

Ignoring this, Delilah slowly began to stand up, holding the camera in a rage shaking hand. "Do you know what happens to people who take advantage of a situation for their own sick use?" She started to step closer. "They get whatever tools I happen to have avalible shoved in unpleasant places. And look what I so happen to have in my hand..." she wiggled the camera a little and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

The man squeaked and fell backwards out of the desk, scooting across the floor and away from Delilah. "W-wait a minute, I wasn't stalking you, really! AAAH!!" He brought his legs closer together as Delilah jumped over the desk that served as a barrier between them as she advanced. "Really, I wasn't stalking you! Honest!"

"Oh no?" Delilah raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "What do you call it then when a guy takes unauthorized pictures of an unsuspecting girl then, hmmm?"


"Stalking," the man said frankly, and this blatant admittance actually caused Delilah to pause in her advance for a moment. Appearing very relieved at distracting his would-be attacker, he gestured to the bag by Delilah's foot. "It's stalking unless I have your signed permission, which I do."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What?!" she dropped to her knees and began rooting around in his bag, leafing through forms and papers, throwing the ones she deemed unnessecary over her shoulder. "Why would I in my right mind let someone take--ah, here we go," she threw the other untouched papers behind her and started reading aloud, scarcely noticing the indignant stammering of the photographer.

"Blahblahblah, taking photos, your school will be subject, blahblahblah $500, blah...oh wait..." she fell silent as her eyes darted across the page. A memory suddenly clicked in her mind and her eyebrows darted up."Oh. Right."

"See? I told you I wasn't stalking you!" He began reaching for the camera. "Now if you'll just let me take my camera, I'll get these uploaded and printed faster than you can say--"

"Ah-ah-aaahh~" She slapped the hand away from the camera and pulled it further out of his reach. "You didn't explain why you were following me around taking pictures. Aren't they supposed to be in a studio or something?"

He leaned forwards and tapped the bottom of the form again, and Delilah looked. The box that said 'candid photos preferred' was indeed checked off. "Oh."

"Yup. So..." he watched undertainly as Delilah gena rifling through the photos again, pausing every so often. "Can I have my camera back now? My deadline is in half an hour."

"Oh, for sure, as soon as I'm done deleting them." She grinned as she watched the photographers jaw drop.

"WHAT?! WHY?!"

"Cause most of 'em are crap, and I don't want the world acknowledging how crappy they are with MY face on the glossys." she held the camera up by her face, finished. "You have two left. Any questions?"

The photographers face went from sullen to ecstatic in about four seconds. "No...I understand...but I do have a request..." He whipped out a camera from behind him, a smaller digital camera. "Hold that expression!"

"Wh--" she cut herself off at the blinding flash and felt the camera being lifted from her hands and replaced with something more papery.

"Thank you, Miss Black it was fun shooting you!"

Rubbing her eyes, Delilah sighed and slipped back up into her desk, head resting on her arms. She smiled a little to herself at the thought of being a model. Maybe it was a possibility for a career should she get bored of the ad agency.

Yeah. Right.

[Arkady Awren]

It had been an odd day for Arkady, throughout the school day people had been walking about that didn't belong in the school. Absolutely all of them wore stilletos and a ghastly amount of makeup, including the males among them. Arkady attempted to continue his day as normal as possible in a sad try to ignore the glossed up nasties. He had been doing pretty well in doing so, but his concentration was broken by two flamboyant gel heads. The most distracting thing about them was their dress, one was in red, the other blue... Both glittery and near blinding.

"Oh, my god! Timmy, look at his hair."

"Oh, my god... His hair is like perfect for our new line!"

Arkady couldn't help, but cringe at their gaudy looks and voices. They began to take measurements of him, as if they were preparing to stew him and they needed a pot just the right size. That or they were going to dress him up and force him to look fashionable, then make him walk up and down on a platform in front of millions of other gaudy people!

"Um... Can I help you?"

Arkady seemed nervous, but he was just confused. As soon as he finished speaking the blue agent put a finger to his lips and silenced Arkady while continuing to measure Arkady.

"Timothy, did you hear that accent? Ohmagawd, he must be Russian..."

"Oh definitely! We have to squeeze those tight thighs into our new line!"

"Here, come with us!"

With that they each grabbed an arm and dragged him to their portable studio. Through the halls and into the parking lot, Arkady didn't even have time to blink before the two flamboyant agents had taken him hostage to dress him like a doll.

"Okay, wait here and we'll go get what you need to dress up in!"

"You are going to love this, it's inspired from a new fashion in the motherland!"

They ran into the same room closed the door and made a bunch of thumping sounds. It was soon that they exited, one with a bundle of cloth, the other fully equipped with a camera set up. The bundle of cloth was tossed at Arkady and he was signalled to get dressed.

"Go ahead... Strip down to your skivvies!"

"Come on, we won't take pictures of you in your underwear!"

Arkady cautiously undressed himself and got into his new modelling get up. Strangely enough, his new get up mimicked his robes that he was already wearing. His get up was met with slight disappointment, but they snapped a couple of casual shots and then dragged him off to another room with backgrounds.

"Okay, now strike a pose."

"Make it something chicks would want to hang on their walls! SEXEH!"

Arkady began to enjoy this work, they still didn't have his consent, but he posed his ass right off. The cameras clicked and he was blinded completely, flash, flash, flash. After a couple of shots he was signalled to remove the outer layer of robes to show off his fish net and tight pants. He was surprisingly well built for his skinny looks on the outside.

"Ooooh! Well, built! I could see you on a magazine cover!"

"How would you like to get a job modelling for us? We get new designs from Russia all the time!"

"I could be the voice of style for Russia... IN AMERICA!!!"

After his sexy posing was finished and the cameras ran out of film, he was handed a clipboard with CONTRACT in big letters. The piece of paper smelled like roses and had visible glitter all over the place. Arkady skimmed over the contract and was handed a pen which he signed it with. The agents beamed smiles right into Arkady and took the clipboard back.

"Well, congratulations you're a model now!"

"Welcome to Motherland Mags!"

The agents quickly rushed Arkady out of the bus studio like a used napkin leaving their clothes on him as well as a wad of cash in his hand.

"Have fun at school and we'll give you a call next time!"

"Look for you in the hallways sometime soon! You'll be on calendars!"

With that the door closed and the bus drove off. Arkady was still a tiny bit confused, but now he had a sweet job and a roll of cash. Was he really going to hold this on his person throughout the school day? Hell yeah! He was gonna flaunt that shit! There was only one problem now...

"Shit was so cash... Hey! They stole my robes!!!"

[Sylar Silverberg]

Sylar walked into school like every other day. The difference was that there was so much more commotion. What was going on? Did somebody die and Sylar didn’t know about it? If so then who was it, and did he know them. That was when he noticed people with camera’s walking along the hallways talking to students and leading them to little rooms. Great, this could mean only one thing, yearbook photos. It was something that Sylar hated doing every year. It was the time of the month that most students hated for that matter. For now it was going to be a challenge to avoid them. Quickly Sylar rushed into a group of students that seemed to be walking away from one of the classrooms. This would be good. They just took their photos so nobody would pull Sylar out of the midst.

When the kids turned the corned Sylar broke out and walked the other way. This was good. All he had to do was make it to the classroom and he would be safe. He was about five feet from the door when he saw another person with a camera. Crap, he was busted. The girl was just about to get to him when another girl bumped into me. This was my chance. Quickly I grabbed her and started going at it with her.

When Sylar noticed that the camera girl walked around the corner Sylar let go.

“Sorry bout that. No time to explain. Hope it was good enough, catch you later, bye.”

Quickly he ducked into the room. He was safe. He turned around and noticed that there he was, standing right in the middle of the shooting booth. Aw great. Not again. The girl he just saw round the corner walked in…

“Are you Sylar Silverberg?”

“Yes I am. Why?”

“Well I was wondering if you would come with me to do a photo shoot.”

A photo shoot. This wasn’t a yearbook photo shoot. Now I felt really stupid.

“Sure, why not. What’s the worst that can happen.”

Sylar followed the girl to the room. There he was standing in the room all by himself.

“Ok. Now just look as sexy as possible for the camera.”

There was a bright flash and that was all.

[Victor "Break" D'Armond]

Victor had been sitting on the school roof, for the most part minding his own business, enjoying the beautiful day. He had his guitar out as his feet dangled over the edge of the building, he was playing softly and singing even softer. His parents never could buy him an Ipod, so he made himself into a living Ipod for his own intensive purposes, he had to have his music. He fingerpicked calmly to the beat of "Motorcycle drive by" by third eye blind. Such a pretty song. "that I could never have you... I knew that before you did..." he sang to himself with a little smile on his face, his blue eyes today where radiant. Sad song, happy mood, he couldn't explain it, nor did he want to. the wind chilled his fingers a little but he continued unpreturbed.

Now when he mentioned that he had been minding his own business "for the most part" it was because he wasn't completely in his own thoughts, he wanted to be, desperately he wanted to just meditate and set himself on auto-pilot to keep playing his music like he usually did when he wanted to be alone and think. but no, his desperate want for solitary thought was denied and ripped away from him by the hustle and bustle of some strangers with cameras making a big fuss out of just about everyone at the school. Is there some kind of news story? did something important happen at the school? he thought to himself silently, his fingers never missing a beat. At this school? no, nothing that interesting could happen here. Maybe they where news reporters commenting on the seven days of school a week. that would be pretty understandable. But in the end, there was really only one way to find out.

Break put his guitar away in his gig bag, walking down the flights of stairs leading from the roof to the first floor. His nose tickled, the stairs must have been cleaned since he went up as they now smelled of fresh pine. Victor walked out of the building toward where he saw all the cameras from way up top of the building, his curiousity growing heavily with every step, like a weight being slowly pressed down on him from above. Finally he saw a rather attractive woman holding a camera, something Nikon probably. "excuse me..." victor's deep rich voice floated over, the girl turned around to see him. "what exactly is going on here?" he asked curiously with his big smile, his blue eyes looking straight into her brown ones, the liquid pools charming and kind. She smiled back, more of a knowing 'oh yes... I can use you' kind of way, which actually excited Victor a little. "we're looking for fresh talent for our modelling agency... do you do any modelling? looks like you're already being put to good use for american eagle" she laughed, victor looked down noting that he was indeed wearing quite a lot of american eagle merchandise. "you certainly have a different look, very SoCal, how did you get that up here?" she asked with a knowing wink. He looked her up and down again, huge glasses over her brown eyes, long hair to the mid of her back, wavy and dark brunette, tan skin with a lot of bronzer, Ed Hardy shirt, a cute "pink" skirt and ugg boots. "probably cause I'm from where you're from" he mentioned with a laugh, "let me guess... laguna beach... maybe malibu..." he said with his regular smile. She chuckled a little "close, santa monica" she said, lifting her camera and taking a quick snap of his face. "you have a strong jaw... thats good for modelling... very david beckham" she said, more to him, but a lot to herself. "would you be willing to support abercrombie for a little and give your AE a much needed break?" she asked. Victor rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. "sure..." he said sarcastically.

He walked with her for a few until she led him to her truck, opening it. "you can change in here if you want... sadly going on site means leaving the chillness of a studio behind." she said with a shrug. He looked at the van, a fifteen passenger, what his friends used to call a "molester mobile" he chuckled to himself. "you know... if you try to take advantage of me I'm not pressing charges" he said with a laugh, his swagger was on 'High' today. she rolled her eyes, but smiled a little, "I wouldn't worry about that" she said. He went inside and tried some things on, finding a nice pair of jeans that showed off his legs with their fit to shape cut, and a button down that he left ceremoniously unbuttoned. "perfect" she said as he stepped out of the van, his 6-pack and sexy musculature at the ready. She gave him a little make up first, a pat down to make the editing easier.

The first poses where easy, lay about looking sexy on the school benches, look tough leaning against the van, the ones that would probably appear on the gift cards. Then some quick outfit changes and suddenly they where doing the really good ones, the ones that would appear on the wall sized posters in the store. She grabbed a random, but pretty girl from the crowd to do some poses with him, she was short and blonde, very cute, they matched each other well.

A few million poses later and she was smiling with the wonderment of a child on christmas. "Thank you victor... these are all really great shots..." she said "we'll be able to use these in the magazines as well...", they had exchanged names and many jokes during this time. "we'll definately give you a call if we need anything more... checks in the mail!" she called before heading off for her van in excitement. It was then he noticed that she left him the clothes he was wearing. He shrugged, thats cool. he looked through his phone quickly, scrolling to her number, thats cool too.

Modelling... why not?

[Gabriel Seran]

Almost dusk. The sun hanged low in the evening sky. Gabriel Seran took a leisurely tour of the school campus from what he could tell it was mostly abandoned besides the few late night crunchers working on the recent deadlines to increase their GPA. Gabriel enjoyed the peace of the place about this time it gave him something to think on, the past, present, and often the future. Little did he know his little trek would go interrupted tonight.

A small looking woman, about her mid thirties approached him. Her skin was tan and her hair a dark shade of chestnut. Her glossy pink lips brushed one another as she seemed deep in thought. A set of thick rimmed glasses accentuated her whole attire, looking very trim and lady like. Dark apparel of grays and blacks mixed with a set of high heels perfect size almost high enough to reach Gabriel's chin.

The small woman's attention faltered for a moment causing her to drop her stack of papers she was grasping tightly to her bosom. Gabriel bent down to the woman's level to meet her hoisting as many papers as he could grasp for. His gaze traveled up to meet hers boldly without indecision.

"Wow... Thank you, umm" She said clearly having a bit of trouble, "You have really beautiful eyes."

Gabriel smirked lightly not taken aback though he was surprised at the bluntness of it because she had the same reaction after saying it.

"Well thank you." He stood giving her a flash of the pearly whites.

She half turned before giving it a second thought, "Hey do you mind taking a few photos, I mean we need a model for tonight our other one passed out the other day, it wouldn't be to far out of the way."

Gabriel gave her a small coy look of acceptance. "Alright, lets see how it goes ma belle..." Gabriel gave her another quick smirk before he followed closely at her side.

There was a small booth set out overlooking the bay, a small shimmer of light pitched its way over the horizon sparkling atop the water. The woman led him onto the rock wall and forced him into several uncomfortable positions.

*Flash*

*Flash*

*Click*



The film pounded against Gabriel's tan features painting them in a new light. He flashed coy little grins when directed and surly sold the photographer who went fuzzy eyed at the work.

"Thank you very much Mr. Seran, you know you have some talent... Would there be any chance of you going into modeling as a career?"

Gabriel laughed lightly, "I may take you up on that afterwards... Thank you very much." Gabriel said taking the man's card before heading off. Eventful evening.

[Leanne]

“No.”

“Please, we really need someone to do this shoot and you’re perfect for it! We can edit out blemishes and the scars you talked about, please we really need someone to do this!”

Leanne sighed as she frowned a scowl almost graced her usual stoic expression before she just gave another exasperated sigh. She turned around shaking her head and prepared to walk away but not before another explanation for her rejection.

“I’m not…not comfortable doing a lingerie shoot or swimwear shoot, sorry, you should look for someone else.”

So apparently there were a few scouts within the school hoping to get someone to do their shoots for them. As for Leanne’s case, the people that wanted her to take on the job wanted her to wear bikinis and have a swimwear shoot for the summer catalogue since their model had cancelled last minute. Leanne was someone they seemed to have deemed to suit the job and they had hassled her for a good twenty minutes.

But obviously Leanne did not feel comfortable about that at all. Not that she was really conservative about showing skin. But, the idea that this would be published in some magazine or something was totally awkward. She’d be revealing herself to people all over the town or country or wherever the magazine is sent off to!

Leanne didn’t like the idea of having people looking at her body especially with her two scars. The one on her jawline wasn’t totally noticeable as her hair usually covered it and it really depends on the lighting, unless of course, someone ran their finger on the side of her face then they’ll be able to tell. However the one her lower torso was pretty prominent, hence Leanne changed her views about her body. Her milky white complexion ruined by a stupid incident.

So anyways, Leanne was beginning to walk away before she heard the lady scream, “WAIT!”

Turning around Leanne looked more than just a little aggravated, “Please, leave me be!”

“N-no, we just called our model and well, we did a little switch with the shoots. Would you be willing to do one for just a drink ad? We’ll just be taking some shots and the clothes would not be as revealing.”


Leanne doubted the idea, and she didn’t really want to do this model thing anyways, but she had a horrible feeling that the lady and her helper would not leave her alone if she didn’t do it. It shouldn’t be that bad right?

Wrong.

She felt utterly uncomfortable and restricted in her outfit. Leanne had taken the card from the lady and went up to the studio where they wanted to shoot. However from that moment on, it was totally out of Leanne’s comfort zone. She was just taken just behind some flimsy curtains with a few ladies and a rack of clothes. Stripped down and changed into this black cowboy outfit that was made out of pure leather. Leanne was then plopped down on a stool and the make-up lady began doing her thing. Concealers, heavy foundation, primers, eyeshadows, liners, lashes, brows, lips, everything was covered with make-up. But while doing make-up some other guy had been messing with her hair so she had sparkles in her eyes and inhaling some nasty hairspray.

After that Leanne was taken to the set where it was a dark and kind of eerie old fashion Western cowboy-like saloon.

“Alright, work your stuff honey, just try and make this believable!”


Easier said than done Mr.Cameraman!

If Leanne had been willing to do this and felt more comfortable in her outfit maybe she’d get into character a little more quickly. She took a deep breath telling herself she got into this and agreed so she might as well do a good job and get it over with!

*Snap*

“Work it!”

*click*

“Yeah, fierce!”

*flash*

“Fantasic!”

Leanne was like a fish out of water for the first few shots but she got more comfortable in front of the camera and began being more daring with her poses. She felt as if she was in an episode of America’s Next Top Model or something like that, but she wasn’t some high fashion model, this was for some drink ad!

“Alright, next outfit please, hun!”


And then the process repeated itself again. The uncomfortable clothes, the make-up, the hair, the skin, the accessories, and this time the contacts? She was given a pair of honey auburn, warm maroon-y pair that she was supposed to wear. Weird, but if that was what they wanted Leanne could live with it. Perhaps it was because her ice blue eyes were too piercing and they wanted a softer, doe-like look. Either way, Leanne was sent back to the camera man but this time they were just infront of a green screen and she was just supposed to do her thing without any props or anything.

Leanne searched her brain for some poses but after a few minutes she just decided to go with the flow and it’d probably be better than way. And it was.

Soon enough the people were done and she was given a copy of the best photos and she had to promise not to leak them out to public yet cause they haven’t edited the commercial drink part of it well enough yet.

“You have talent m’dear, you should sign with us. If you’re interested you should talk to this man.”

Leanne took the card and bid her farewell, pretty darn sure that she wouldn’t exactly want to be a model, at least, not any time soon. Maybe when she has more confidence with her body. She looked at the pictures as she walked towards the public transit and she felt really self conscious...







Yep...too revealing for her preference.

[Tash]

Tash wandered down one of the halls at Moral Crest. Today was par for the course. She wore a pair of army surplus cargo pants slung low over her curvy hips and a pair of converse: one was a different color than the other…she had only been able to find one of each that morning when she woke up and had been too lazy to dig through her closet for their mates. Her top was the usual white wifebeater: form fitting and with a low scoop neck over her full and perky chest. This one, however, had survived some strange mauling in the back and she’d cut strips out of it, tying the material down the center of her back instead of scrapping the shirt altogether. The effect was a series of slits to the back of what would otherwise be a simple white top, the strips of fabric tied down the center. It was simple, almost crude, but strikingly attractive somehow against the almond skin of her toned back.

Today the dreads were running amok and smoky black kohl lined her luminous jade green crocodile eyes. Other than that, she wore no makeup. It wasn’t that she was so vain she didn’t think she needed it (even though she didn’t), she simply didn’t have the patience or see the need for anything else. A bone carved Maori pendant hung from a choker around her neck above the ever-present white gold ring on a chain.

Her iPod headphones were jammed into her ears and she was just coming down from a lovely high that had made Pre-Calculus bearable. She wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to her, so she was surprised when two people came busting out of the classroom she’d just left behind, jogging to catch up and flagging her down. She blinked owlishly at them, pulling out the iPod headphones. Even without the melodious sounds of Incubus assailing her ears it took her a minute to register what they were saying. One, a slender mousy brown haired woman with a pixie nose, looked a little less than pleased as she stood behind the young man with short chestnut hair and dancing blue eyes.

“Oh stop it Claire! Can’t you see the bone structure on her? It’s absolutely stunning!”

The mousy brunette, presumably Claire, opened her mouth to respond but the ginger cut her off.

“I know she’s not our usual look but she’s gorgeous. It’s exotic…sultry. But she’s not so far off classic that she won’t work for us. She could be just the change we’re looking for!”

Claire pursed her lips and harrumphed. She was holding a clipboard and a pen which she tapped against the metal clasp of the board while she walked around Tash.

“Alright, fine, Kevin. I’m not sure what you’re so hypnotized by, but she does have nice skin and strong cheekbones. Maybe…maybe she’ll photograph well. Have it your way, we’ll do a few test prints.”
”Um, ‘scuse me. I’m not a horse. What the hell’s all this about bone structure and tests prints? Can either of you tell me what kind of three ring circus I’ve apparently become the starring attraction of?”

Kevin took her by the arm, guiding her back to the classroom before she could argue.

“We’re from Fantasies Models and we’re looking for new talent. We need someone with a new look, you know? And I think you might just fit the bill. Claire here might need a little more persuading, but don’t worry about her. I know you’ll be perfect! What’s your name?” He gushed as he led her into a classroom that the agency had, from the look of the table in the corner, the cameras lined up on it next to the paperwork. There were lights set up around the room, lenses on the table and lighting filters. Expensive stuff, wow wow.

”Um, look, Mr……Kevin. Look, Kevin. I don’t think you’ve got the right girl. Modeling? Me? Come on – I barely even know what half of the stuff in any makeup isle is for. I buy my eyeliner from Target. Clothes and fashion and style don’t mean shit to me. I’m not a blonde surfer chick with fake tits and fake laugh. I’m flattered, Mister, but I’m no model.” She tries to turn around and brush past him. Sure, modeling could be fun. The idea of being paid to have someone take your picture amused her. But she thought that all this attention must be a huge mistake. She knew she was pretty but it couldn’t be model gorgeous, could it? She’d never cared enough to think about it before: past healthy and hygienic she didn’t really pay much attention to her looks.

“But that’s exactly it! You’re not the stereotype model, but you’re absolutely stunning! I think that punk-grunge look you have going could appeal to a whole untapped audience! Please…..just let us take a few shots. Don’t worry about ‘image’. Just be you.”

Tash set down her bag and looked at him for a moment, eyebrows raised, then sighed. She had no idea why she was going to put herself through this.

”Alright, fine. Let’s do this thing. I’m Natasha by the way. Tash, to most people.”

Claire had sat down and was now scribbling on some forms, muttering about damn photographers having so much say. Kevin just beamed and pulled her onto the small set they had made up. There was a little cement bench, clawfooted and with carved edges. A little faux-brick wall with some graffiti mocked up on it.
Tash draped herself over the bench like a cat, laying on her stomach. She propped herself up cobra style, letting her hands dangle off the edge of the bench.

Kevin gave a giddy little grin and practically leaped for his camera, muttering something about “a natural” as he fiddled with apertures and lenses and started clicking away.


“Just move. Be natural. I absolutely love your personality. It’s going to show and it’s just fabulous! It all just punches: those crocodile eyes of yours – so hypnotic. Like a panther! What a find! These are going to be absolutely stunning! “

Kevin pauses and rummages around in a few trunks, pulling out a short glossy bob cut wig and new clothes. He hands them to Tash. Girlier than she’d like but hey, what’s it gonna hurt? Could be fun. Tash tries them on, looks in the mirror, and almost doesn’t recognize herself. Different style different hair – not what she’d wear everyday but certainly not bad. Not bad at all. Back to the camera. She gives a little grin and Kevin beams.

“We’re going to prove to Claire that you can do more than one look. Give her what she thinks she wants. She won’t be able to say no to you!”


Tash left the room half an hour later shaking her head and smiling. Natasha LaVeau, budding model. Who’d have thought?

[Demetra Katsaros]

I'd done modeling before. I hated it, but I wasn't new to it. See, the other occurrences were to promote the earrings I had made from beads I found at a second hand store and the organic makeup whose profits were going toward the fight against testing cosmetics on animals. Since I don't want to support a society that bases judgments on appearances, or one that is so entirely materialistic that propaganda in advertising is accepted readily, you can understand how I would protest if a bunch of strangers were nagging me about a photo shoot, even after they've probably scouted more than enough people in this God forsaken school.

"I don't understand," the dressy woman had began, "You're such a pretty girl. Why wouldn't you want to take advantage of that?"

"Who the hell says I'm pretty?" I asked, throwing my hands up in the air. We'd actually been going back and forth for awhile, and I have no idea why she was bothering to pursue me. After all, there's plenty of 'pretty' girls who would die to do some modeling work. Agencies usually have models come to them, not the other way around.

"You really don't think you're pretty?" Her face fell in sympathy. She wasn't getting my point. "That's terrible! You're gorgeous! You shouldn't have such low self-esteem."

"I have excellent self-esteem," I informed her, trying to walk faster through the halls, though I knew she was following me. "And I look fine. But there's not an appearance in existance that I find lesser than another. We're all equal. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as they say. I don't think that I'm better looking than anyone else."

"Oh, but you are!" she reassured me. Lord, she was only making me want to work with her even less, with the direction she was going. "I don't usually see breasts that large on a female your height unless she is overweight. You should be very proud of your developed features."

Ugh! How bloody ignorant could this woman get?! "You realize that America is the top country for breast fetishes? In other cultures, boobs aren't a big deal, especially large ones. Kimonos are actually designed to make a woman's chest appear SMALLER, because that was thought to be more beautiful during that period in Japan," I explained to her, hoping she'd understand my point.

Yet she didn't. "You want to wear a kimono?"

"No!" I paused and rubbed my temples. "I don't want to be part of the corruption of advertising, of materialism, of large corporations, of image standard setting." I heaved a sigh. "I don't want to be the one who makes girls think that they'd be prettier if they had rounder tits like me, or if they styled their hair and wore makeup like in my photo, or if they bought whatever product I'm modeling."

"We don't have a product in mind," she told me, as if that was going to sway me. "We'd just like a head shot for now."

"Alright, you're obviously not understanding me. Why should I do this?" Very simple question, right?

"It pays five hundred dollars," she offered.

"Oh, and is that money going to a worthy cause?" I shook my head. "Is it going to support a charity that is helping the world? Is it going to give back to society?"

"Well, uh, it's your money. You can do what you want with it."

Wow. She actually had a good point. I could use that five hundred dollars to do something I knew would help rather than harm. "Fine, just a head shot."

My hair was braided, my face was photographed, and my picture was edited. They made my 'nice eyes' stand out on the black and white shot. I think they toyed with it more than necessary, but whatever. Plus, they took like a million of what seemed to be the same damn photo, yet they only gave me one.

[Malix]

Malix had seen the signs. The writing on the wall was as plain as day. PHS 42 would not be able to escape its fate, and it was up to her and her alone...

Heralded by flyers, photographers from a modeling agency would invade the campus grounds on a certain day, handing out moneys and dreams of fame and fortune to the unwitting students of the campus.

Malix knew what she had to do.

She had to photograph the photographers in the act.

Without.

Being.

Seen...

Malix was quite excited about playing this little game with herself. She spent her whole week in preparation for that coming day...the day on which to Hunt...or be Hunted.

And so, the day arrived. Malix donned her favorite dark green shirt and brown pants for maximum camoflauge, and wove some leaves into her cherry locks in order to offset her hair's red red redness. A stripe of warpaint went under each eye, and her innocent eyes carried a deep fire.

---

She saw it all, and none saw her. The photographers, they were fools to wander into this jungle so unprepared. Though it was a new territory to her as well, she still understood it more thoroughly than they could hope to in a day's study, and that was her advantage.

She photographed a photographer taking pictures of a half-naked pale boy carrying some sort of shotgun. Malix wonders idly if many students carried weaponry like that...

She photographed a photographer who was photographing a blue haired guy in bad aviator sunglasses. it was easy to find a hiding place in the gymnasium to take these pictures from...under the bleachers, in the alcove where the collapsible dividing walls were stored, in the rafters....it was a massacre.

It was harder to find a sneaky spot in the studio where they photographed the blonde girl, but she managed it by diving and rolling through the door while the cameras were flashing, coming to rest under a table. The blonde seemed to be of the opinion that she was hot stuff..and Malix supposes that it's true in its own way.

The photographers were relentless. They photographed shy girls and brash girls, pretty-boys and those with warrior souls. She witnessed as one subject turned on the photographer in a grim and bloody parody of her bloodless hunt, nearly making Malix lose her lunch, but she got some GREAT photos.

The most fun was the photographer who stalked the black-haired girl all across campus. In his efforts to be sneaky in regards to his subject he completely closed his senses to what was hasppening around him. That would be his last mistake, and Malix rattled off her rounds with silent precision.

---

From her vantage point in some bushes outside the school, she prepared to make her next kill. The photographer, focused entirely on the male student posing on school benches while a crowd looked on, wouldn't know what hit 'em. A predatorial grin of victory spreads across Malix's face as she lines up the shot, waiting for someone to move out of the way so she could -

*CLICK*

"Don't Move"


*CLICK*


*CLICK*


*CLICK*

"No...how did you find me!?" Malix asks as if in a dream, and stands up, pushing through the bushes.

The photographer steps out from the corner of the building. "I've been trailing you all day. You're good, kid, but you've got a lot to learn." The man, a grizzled fellow in his late thirties and frumpily attired in a tweed jacket, spits out the butte of his cigarette and approaches.

A single tear streaks down Malix's face, and she wipes at it, smudging her warpaint. "But...but I tried so hard...and I still failed..."

*CLICK*

*CLICK*

*CLICK*

"Nonsense" the photographer explains as he snaps a few more shots. The camera had come up so fast that she hadn't even seen him draw and couldn't possibly have reacted. She was in awe. "You have amazing potential...I've never seen anything like it in someone so young. Plus, I got a lot of great shots!"

The man strides over to her and turns his camera screen to show her. Pictures of her diving through the air, climbing through trees, lurking in shadows with her camera ready and dramatic expressions on her face. Confidence, sadness, happiness, determination, all captured brilliantly.

"With shots like these, we'll wipe the floor with the other photographers, capturing pasty-faced models posing like self-absorbed preening pricks. This...this is art." He turns off the camera and pulls a wad of cash from his pocket, pressing it into her hands. "Take it, you earned it. You may be hearing from me again..."

With that, he reaches into his belt and pulls out a grappling hook, which he fires onto the roof of the nearest building, and ZIP! He zooms up the side of the building and is lost from sight within a few bare seconds, but not before...

*CLICK*
*CLICK*
*CLICK*

Malix lowers her camera. "...Gotcha!"

[narakunohana]

Congratulations!

You have all successfully completed May's Monthly event! You all recieve 2 exp and $500 for your efforts!

We hope to see you again!

=D

Stu - 396 words
Cain - 760 words
Kate - 520 words
Sara Quinn - 625 words
Reira DeMorverick - 622 words
Travis - 682 words
Masaru - 417 words
David Blaze - 532 words
Alexis - 796 words
Ryuu - 853 words
Emily - 741 words
Vespyr - 542 words
Steven - 514 words
Pine - 807 words
Delilah Black - 1,546 words (CRAZY!! )
Arkady Awren - 766 words
Sylar - 381 words
Victor - 1,030 words
Gabriel - 456 words
Leanne - 964 words
Tash - 1,156 words
Demetra - 662 words
Malix - 827 words

You will all receive your cash awards within the day. Thank you. ^^