Draw your portaite, luv? (Koby)

[Dale McCall]

Sun is shining and you’re feeling fine and the birds are singing in the trees.

Dale squinted his large grey orb’s with indignation up at the bright sunlight, as it streamed through the sheaf of leaves atop the offshoot of branches above his head. Slouching against the trunk of a large oak tree, he silently cursed himself for forgetting his sunglasses.
Who knew the day would turn out this sunny?

Osmond Lake was busy. Though Dale wasn’t sure if it was always this busy, or if it was simply because it was a Sunday afternoon. He sat, quite contently as the spring breeze blew through his jet-black locks of hair, listening to the excited shrieks of children by the swings, and the quack of nearby ducks. Dale squinted as he glanced up into the sky, watching as several white clouds drifted by, casting their shadow’s upon the green grass below. He wasn’t sure what to make out of them; shape’s that was. As he sat and stared into the sky, trying to discern the patterns, he thought to himself that a few of them looked a little like marshmallow puffs.

He hadn’t been planning on coming out here, at first. What he had wanted to do was have a duvet day. He had just wanted to lay in bed all day, all cosy and warm like a little bug in a rug. Sure it wasn’t very productive, but life wasn’t always about being productive was it?

There was a girlish shriek to the left of him, towards the swing’s and Dale looked over his shoulder to the packed playpark, watching as a couple of young girl’s chased each other around the swing, wrestling with who got to go on first. It had been a while since Dale had swung on a swing-set, and looked on with a wry smile at the though thought that he’d probably have to wrestle one of the kid’s off of one if he had really wanted to have a go. He could take them. I mean, one of them was wearing glasses and everything.

Nah. Not worth the trouble. Beside’s, Dale was having a pretty good time just sitting where he was, lounging against the tree with a small sketch book propped up against his knee’s, which were pulled in close to his chest to act like a sort of improvised desk.

Whenever Dale was bored, and left alone with some pen and paper, he’d always produce some sort of gallery. He flicked through the pictures; each one more bright and happier than the last, decorated with thing’s such as rainbows, and suns with smiley faces. Everything that Dale McCall was made of - illustrated on paper.

Flicking to a page decorated with yellow and blue stars, toast, white-spotted penguins and pink pineapples, Dale couldn’t help but grin at the flippancy of it all. His uncle, Howard, had often said that they were the scribbling’s of a retard, never really hiding his real opinions on the drawings. Dale, on the other hand, thought they were genius. He wanted to turn them into a cartoon or something. Imagine that? Spotted penguins, toast, and pink pinapple’s all coming to life in animated form.

Dale chewed on the tip of his pencil, tapping his red stack-heeled boot’s absentmindedly. They were the same one’s he’d worn last night, when he’d met Giselle. She was a very likable person. He would welcome the opportunity to converse with her again, though he couldn’t say the same about her horse. The lousy sod wouldn’t simmer down at all from trying to eat his hair, or nip him, or snort at him. He didn’t know what it was about large animals, but they just didn’t seem to like him at all. He thought, that maybe it was his size. Dale was a very petite little man, all feathery coal black hair, pointed features and androgynous style of clothing. Didn’t most larger animals always try to dominate the smaller animals?

Today, as well as the red stack-heeled boots, Dale was clad in black skin tight trousers with white spots, a dark-green singlet, and a small black leather jacket. His hair, as always was the usual basic back-comb structure, slightly root-boosted framing a cheeky fringe. He liked his hair to have the appearance of being a little disheveled, but in a good, healthy-looking way.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the tree as his tongue flicking up to curl about his incisor as he tried to think about what to draw next. Drat. He hated that. Just as you’re getting back into the mood to draw again, you hit artists-block. And what a time too! On a lazy Sunday afternoon, where there isn’t anything to do. It was the best time to laze about and be as unproductive as you possibly can. He should have stuck to his ‘duvet day’ idea.

[Kaye~Twins~Koby]

.x.Koby Dalglish.x.
.x.Don’t let the makeup fool you I don’t shy away from hard work.x.

It was Sunday, back to classes tomorrow, they had a test in English and Koby was taking a short break from study. She was a straight A student and she could get obsessive sometimes worrying about whether she was going to pass or not. Of course she always did, though it frustrated her when some people could just mess around all the time and still get good grades. She worked hard for the grades she got and she didn’t think it was fair that some people could just fly through classes without having to worry. Just sitting at the back of the class talking and messing around not paying any attention what so ever to the teacher. Yet she was always quiet and always payed attention, took notes and spent allot of time cramming and doing extra research and she had to fight to keep her A’s up.

She was fuming as she walked under the beating sun toward the lake, she knew it would be crowded but right now maybe that was a good thing. Maybe watching people messing around and enjoying their Sunday would take her mind off her bitter thoughts about the people in her class. She was generally a pretty happy person, sure she could be high strung when it came to grades, she wanted to get into a good career after all but most of the time she always wore a smile and was willing to help anyone in need.

Which was another thing that frustrated her about people, no one took the time to do anything for others anymore it was all about me, me, me with people these days. She on the other hand would often be down at the local soup kitchen helping to serve food to the homeless. There wasn’t a shelter here though so she couldn’t spend her weekends there instead she had a bag full of home made beanies. With fake fur on top like hair and polar fleece as the band, she made them herself and they were pretty cool. She sold them, $5 a hat and every cent went to cancer research.

She had on one that was rainbow on top with a black band and her shoulder bag held another 6 or so in it. She didn’t like to force them on people, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to grow curious about them when she wore them around, other then the glary hat, she had on casual jeans, a simple black v neck t-shirt and bangles clattered happily at her arms.

Already the fresh air and sunshine and the sounds of her classmates wafting up from the lake were brightening her mood, obviously she had just been inside for too long. The stress of studying things she already knew was getting to her and in the sunshine she began to wonder why she had been so worried.

Smile on her face she turned her head to watch at some kids fought over the swings, she spotted a tree just up ahead a bit and had an idea to sprawl out on the grass under it and just soak up the sun and the fun for a time.

As she grew closer to the tree however and walked around to the other side where she would be able to see the people in the playground and the lake she realised that her plan would not come to be. For there was already someone sitting there, a guy, with an open sketch book in his lap, the bright colours caught her attention immediately, she loved bright colours, and she had great respect for people who could draw, she personally couldn’t manage much more then stick figures and that was on a good day.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, you’re really a very good drawer”

She said with a smile to the guy, she would have to find another tree to sit under she didn’t want to get all up in someone’s face, especially when they were drawing, and doing such a good job at it too. So adjusting her bag she went to turn and walk away to hunt for another spot to plop down and people watch.

Word Count ;; 704

[Dale McCall]

Drawing had always been a sort of release for Dale. What ever his emotions were, whether he was happy, angry, upset, or embarrassed - he’d pick up a piece of paper and draw. He’d always thought that the best way to express yourself was through drawings.

He could remember this one time, as a teenager when he’d been living with his uncle, they had had an argument. The two of them didn’t argue very often. To be honest, Dale had forgotten what the whole feud was about. What he could remember though, was that he’d been so cross with Howard that he’d taken a whole bunch of permanent marker’s and drawn all over his uncle’s bedroom wall.

‘If he thinks I’m cleaning that off his wall he’s got another thing coming!’ The little, purple circled masterpiece said; complete with green rainbow’s and swirly red snail shell patterns.

They didn’t fight often; seldom really. If they did, it was usually Howard who apologized in the end, regardless who was right. Dale had always been a stubborn kid, very insubordinate. If someone told him to do something, he’d often do the opposite, just to prove he could.

Dale leant his head back against the trunk of the tree, pencil tapping away absently against the bare sheet of paper. Despite the cover the foliage provided from the sun, small streams of sunlight managed to emit between the leaves, causing him to squint as his vision blurred. If he hadn’t, then he probably would not have jumped when he heard a young woman’s voice behind him.

Her clothing was the first thing he noticed. Wow, that sounded shallow didn’t it? But it was just something Dale did. He had always been obsessed with clothes, and had always had a pretty feminine, androgynous aspect to his attire. He appreciated people like Mick Jagger and David Bowie; they were stylish, effeminate men, really.

He had never been one to judge anyone’s choice in attire, however. Each to their own, y’know? He was a shining example of that. He liked this one’s selection in apparel; it was unadorned; but sometimes simple was more suitable. She was wearing simple denim jeans that accentuated her curves quite nicely, and a neat black v-neck shirt, with colorful bracelets dangling around her wrists. Her light brown hair was absolutely beautiful, like silk, but it was her hat that screamed out the most attention though. He’d never seen someone wearing a hat with so much color before!

“Wow, thanks,” he grinned widely, glancing down at the little outlandish scribbling’s on the page resting upon his lap, before looking back up at the girl. His grey orb’s rising once again, to her hat, but as he did, he realized that she was making a move to walk away. “Wai’ a minute,” he said, swiftly. “Your ha’ is absolutely genius! Where’d ya get it?”

[Kaye~Twins~Koby]

.x.Koby Dalglish.x.
.x.Don’t let the makeup fool you I don’t shy away from hard work.x.

Ok so Koby wasn’t the best with the whole, meet and greet thing she was more of a, blurt out random things and then run away kind of person. True she liked to be an individual, but that did not necessarily mean that she was overly outgoing, no she was rather a shy and awkward person when it came to meeting new being. Because of this a slight grimace crossed her face when the guy called after her, she paused but didn’t turn around right away. First she took a deep, calming herself only slightly and getting rid of the look of terror on her face at having to attempt to keep up a conversation.

She replaced it was a smile which she hoped seemed confident and welcoming and turned around.

“Thanks, I made it myself, actually I have a heap of them, I sell them to raise money for cancer research”

She responded in a cheerful voice, ok at least he had brought up something she felt semi confident in. after all she was all for raising money for charities especially cancer, one of her friends mums had died of cancer and ever since the two of them had been selling these hats, that reminded her she needed to pack up some more and send them to her friend she had sent Koby a text to say she was running low.

Looking at this guy she couldn’t help wondering if maybe he was gay, he had awesome fashion sense and well the way he held himself and spoke, it just seemed to shout gay at her. Not that there was anything wrong with that she knew heaps of great gays, they made the best male friends, at least you knew if you got smashed and made a fool of yourself they would take you home and tuck you up in bed safe and sound rather then taking advantage of you.

So really as far as Koby was concerned there was absolutely nothing wrong with being gay not that she would ask anyone if they were or not, no that would be totally disrespectful, instead she would just keep her mouth shut and stand there waiting uncomfortably to see what he would say if anything at all.

Word Count ;; 377

[Dale McCall]

At first, Dale was unsure of whether or not the girl had heard him, but as she paused, he watched as she seemed to conflict with some sort of internal struggle to decide whether or not to turn around and face him. As she did, however, he was glad to see that she had a gentle smile on her face, though it didnt quite reach her eyes. "They're well cool," He smiled up at her, hoping to make her feel a little more welcome. Even if he weren't sitting, he thought he would probably still need to look up at her as he was speaking, albeit slightly. Dale was used to being shorter than most people; it was his look, along with his ashen facial features, androgynous dress sence and carefully aranged coiffure. Those things that he disliked about himself as a child, he'd grown to love about himself as a young adult. He had quite a weird face - he now enjoyed to up the ante and make himself look more extreme. He liked to look different.

A thought, and Dale realized that she might be a little tired of carrying the shoulder bag, full of what looked like more hat's inside. Perhaps...

"Don' s'pose I could buy one of them off'a ya?" He asked in a cockney accent, indicating for her to take a seat close to him with his pencil, the drawing pad, still perched on his lap below his knees. The girl seemed a little uneasy, or put off about something, though he wasnt too certain why, at first. His brow crinkled in confusion as he thought, but nothing came to him, at first. Perhaps he should have let her go about her business. But then, he realised that her eyes were fixated on him, or at least what he was wearing. This, of course was nothing that he wasnt used to already.

Most of the time, he'd find that allot of people would stare at his clothing; he would recieve allot of comments, some possitive, some negative. Women seemed to display the most interest. Dale never did that badly with women, but whenever women tried it on with him, he still wondered why. It was strange, because although he knew he was pretty handsome, he also thought he looked like a troll wearing a woman’s wig backwards, or a trout with a fringe.

Dale was very secure with his sexuality, of course he was straight, and he put allot of time into his appearance (evidently). He liked to look different. Growing up, his heroes weren’t comics, but androgynous musicians: Jagger, Bowie, Syd Barrett. (Although he liked Peter Cook’s style and looks too). He liked clothes and make-up, he liked the transformation.

Did it puzzle him that women found this so sexually attractive? Yeah, a little. He read a book once, about the New York Dolls and David Johansen was saying that none of them were gay or even bisexual, and that when they started dressing in stilettos and leather pants, women got it straight away with no explanation. But a lot of men had problems. It’s one of those strange things. A man will go, ‘You bloody queer.’ And you just think, ‘Well, your girlfriend fancies me.’

The thing was, Dale had simply always preferred women’s company to men’s. Men were very narrow minded and conditioned to behave in a certain way - women were cooler about stuff. He didn’t like to generalize.

With one hand wrapped around the pencil, Dale stroked his other hand through his raven-hair, pulling his fringe from his eyes and glancing up a little irritably as it fell to the same arrangement as before.

To look interesting, was an absolute necessity in Dale’s life. No one knew what it felt like for him if he thought he didn’t look interesting. He felt all uncertain and awkward all the time. Not many people would know how that felt. Well, of course some people would, but it was different for him! It was like his confidence melts away like a sugar cube in the rain. He just did not like it.

Dale’s fascination with his own appearance did only run skin deep, however. He had always been a bit of a golden boy, open and brotherly to almost everyone he’d interact with; he’d treat whoever he met as if he’d known them his entire life. He was a very open person in most cases, and only secretive when necessary. He held no malice at all; it just wasn’t in his nature. It was almost impossible for him to be cruel, or manipulative. He could talk to anyone. Once they got over his appearance, people felt like they could approach him, which he thought was nice. Dale was like a child-man.

"I've just been tryin' to think of somethin' to draw, really," He spoke, twirling the pencil in between his index and middle finger. "My muse has just mel'ed away like a berocca lef' ou' in the rain."

[Kaye~Twins~Koby]

.x.Koby Dalglish.x.
.x.Don’t let the makeup fool you I don’t shy away from hard work.x.

As Koby stood looking down at the man on the ground she couldn’t help wondering how tall he was, would she still look down at him even is he stood or did he just appear short in the way he was sitting on the ground? It pleased her to know someone thought her hats were cool even if he was being sarcastic which she didn’t think he was, she hadn’t sold many since coming here though she also hadn’t been here long. When he asked if he could buy one her smile finally reached her face and all of a sudden she was calm and collected, when it came to making money for charity she knew what she was doing and she was confident, making normal conversation however? Not so much.

Taking a step forward she folded her legs under her as she lowered her bodice to the ground opposite him pulling the shoulder bag to the forefront of things and opening it up. It was filled with fluffy hats of every colour, multi coloured, red, black, purple, pink, blue, green, orange, you name it and it was there, some were green rimmed with white fluff, some were purple and blue, all had the ability to grab your attention.

“Of course you can that’s kind of the whole point of them, take your pick, they are $5.00 and every cent goes to cancer research I buy the material myself”

She said easily, she had been questioned before about why they were $5 and accused of charging that much so she could make a profit for herself, so she liked to explain that this was not the case at all in fact she didn’t even use any of the sales to buy more material to make them, she paid for that herself, that was her contribution.

She couldn’t help the laughter from bubbling up at his comment about his muse for drawing melting away like a berocca in the rain as he looked through the hats. She wasn’t sure why exactly but he seemed different to other people, she felt surprisingly at ease, after her initial hesitation, usually she didn’t feel this at ease with anyone she didn’t know really well.

“my pop used to be a great drawer when he was alive and he always used to tell me that when it came to drawing there is no such thing as losing your muse, for all you have to do is stop thinking about it and just draw, even if you have no idea what your drawing, just start with a simple line and build on from it, you will find your muse again.”

Koby said easily with a smile on her face as she remembered her pop, a hint of sadness hidden behind the smile, her pop had been one of her best friends growing up and she had been his favourite grandchild and had made it well know too, she had loved the way he had dotted on her more then any other, and how as frail as he got the moment she walked in the room his whole face would light up.

Word Count ;; 525
OOC ;; woohoo i finally posted!

[Dale McCall]

Dale's face lit up, as a wide grin flashed across his features. "Genius!" He beamed, edging a little closer to peer into the large bag as Koby knelt in front of him. He placed the sketch book and pencil down by his side, before he delved into the bag, pulling out various hats to take a better look. He was amazed with all of the colors. "It's like a fluffy rainbow in there!" He said, pulling out a blue one and ruffling the fluff on top of it for a moment, before he pulled out a red one, repeating the same action as with the last one.

$5.00 eh? If he was being honest, Dale still wasn't sure about the whole currency converter thing. He was quite possitive that $5.00 was nearly 4 Euros. But that was nothing really, what was it, like, one dollar difference if you thought about it?

"I like..." Dale's brow creased slightly as he looked down at the blue hat, and then the red hat, making it look as if it where an extremely difficult decision. "The red one!" He put the blue one back in the bag and after quickly running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back and a short ruffle, he placed the hat on top of his head, grinning widely, showing two rows of slightly crooked teeth.

Thinking about it, everything about Dale had always been a little crooked. Crooked nose, crooked teeth and then there was his cheekbones and eyes that were just too big. Every one of his features fought for dominance of his thin face. He was unnusual, he loved to be different and it seemed to make him rather striking. "'Ere we go," Hands digging through his back pockets, which probably looked a little stranger than it was meant to, Dale pulled out a slightly crumpled $5.00 note and handed it to Koby. "Sorry i's all crinkly, I didn' think about bringin' a walle'." He added, more to keep the conversation flowing than anything. To be honest, he was very happy to have someone to talk to, and this girl was very interesting. She even cared about cancer and was creative and everything!

As the conversation turned to her grandfather, Dale listened with interest. He thought that it was cool that the man had been into art too. It was important to have an appreciation for art (in his opinion). Whether it be surrealist art, sculpting, oil or acrylic paints, or even finger painting. It was important to keep the chain of influences going. Someone you know like's Jean-Michel Basquiat, who likes Andy Warhol, who likes Campbell Soup... it was important, otherwise people just dissapeared. Dale felt it was important that Koby remember her grandfather for this reason. He'd never be forgotten.

Dale thought about it. Or at least tried to, as much as his one brain cell could without straining itself, and as he thought, Dale felt something light tickle the back of his left hand. Smiling, he looked down, to find that a butterfly had flown into their little circle, and had perched, quite unafraid, on his hand. He was mesmerised by it, although who wouldn't be? It was a bright blue, with shining white spots on each wing, that glistened in the light. The butterfly walked across his palm, tickling his fingers for a moment, before Dale gave his hand a gentle shake and watched as it flew away, startled by the sudden movement. He sighed and after a short moment, he perked up. "I know I migh' sound a lil strange offerin', but can I draw your portraite, luv?"