A stormy day in the park (Sugar)

[OZZIE WAGERS]

The park was quiet today. Too cold for the mothers with their strollers and old men walking their dogs, probably. Max kind of liked it, though. It was a nice break from the past week of humidity and sun. The clouds rolled overhead, threatening him with the prospect of rain. Occasionally, the sun would peek through a space in the clouds, brightening the murky air for a moment at a time. Despite the overcast, it was still a nice day; no wind, no rain, not too cold. Perfect for a relaxing nap under the trees.

He walked down the cement path, briefly scanning the area for anyone who would care if he stepped past the “Keep off Grass” sign. He thought it was kind of doubtful that the couple sitting on the bench way over there or the man taking pictures of the sky would reprimand him for breaking the insignificant rule that no one paid attention to anyway. The dark haired girl strolling down one of the other paths in his direction somehow did not strike him as a threat either. Max stepped over the low fence onto the damp grass of Central Park, taking in the scent of the moist air and surrounding trees. He would admit, Central Park was allegedly a bit dangerous if you were there alone at night – rapists and murderers lurking behind the rocks and such – but it was barely afternoon on a Sunday; he wasn’t worried.

Max took off his jacket and spread it out on the grass next to an old, beat up looking tree. He lay down, using the jacket as a pillow. Why did more people not take advantage of the perfect napping spot? It was so peaceful and nature-y. He closed his eyes, putting his hands behind his head and letting his mind drift off into emptiness.

But it was only a few minutes before he heard the wind begin to blow through the trees, blowing the wet leaves onto the ground. One landed on his face and he opened his eyes. It was drizzling, and the sky had grown darker. Oh lovely, what a day for a nap in the park.

tagged;; Sugar
notes;; Sorry this is like, completely lacking any sort of potential plot..
words;; 363

[COTY CLEARWATER]

OUTFIT OF SUGAR BEIN ALL SWEET!

It should be illegal to be this bored in a city as famous, as cultured, as dangerous, and as exciting as New York God Damned City. Seriously? What the glob? And she was not going to accept the excuse that it was a Sunday, or that it was the middle of the day, or that she had only gotten here on Friday and didn't know anyone. No. Seriously, fuck that. Sugar Solomon had left the comfort of her cushy Picaninny Ranch. She had stomped her feet, and pouted her lip, and protested adamantly for justice to be transferred to a classy New york School. And for what? To do homework? Absolutely not. No, she needed adventure, she needed excitement.

And God help anyone who stood between her and adventure.

So she made herself real cute, though not gaudy, and headed out with the set determination of having some fun. Certainly there was some mischief to be had somewhere. But alas... there was nothing. Just busy little people scurrying about, catching cabs and buying dirty water hot dogs. It was utterly disappointing. She found herself wandering to the park, examining the horses with interest. Poor things, with those bits lodged in there mouths. It gave Sugar half the mind to kick the carriage rider, with his damn high and mighty switch. But she didn't, she kept her temper.

If Central Park had anything, it was trees.

Since her childhood Sugar adored trees. Spinning around them, jumping in there leaves, and (above all other tree related activities) CLIMBING trees. Because she was in a skirt, some might think that would halt the little scamp. Ohho. Oh no. Not even slightly. If someone happen to catch a glimpse of her hello kitty panties, well, more power to them. She was climbing a tree dammit!

Her round brown eyes searched for a suitable tree. She hopped over a fence comfortably, her pretty moccasins tapping lightly on the the squishy earth beneath. Finally she found a tree, good and sturdy. Most people make the mistake of picking a tree with a lot of lower branches. Those people are big dummy heads who know nothing about trees or tree climbing. Those trees obviously could have tree rot, and nothing spoils a fun day of adventure and tree climbing like a broken arm.

So Sugar climbed up, using the gnarls and knots, and found a nice branch to settle in. Ah, now this was nice. True, it lacked the excitement that she had been seeking, but there was something nostalgic about hanging out in a tree, inspecting an old bird nest that still had a blue robin eggshell in it. It was almost like being home, minus the smell of exhaust. Sighing deeply, she leaned back, whistling a soft chickadee tune.

But hark, what have we here? A young man... a young, good looking, man. Well, perhaps today would not prove to be a waste after all. She watched as he settled under the tree, putting his jacket on ground and closing his eyes. He must not have seen her. Well, that could give her the advantage. She whistled lowly, this time mimicking a whippoorwill, trying to stay out of his line of sight. He was cute, wasn't he? Pushing her near-black hair out of her face, Sugar removed one of her boots, ignoring the chill that suddenly hit her pink painted piggies. Aiming carefully, Sugar choked back a giggle, as she dropped the boot, watching it bop the poor fellow on the head.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Sugar cried out, voice shimmering with innocence. Climbing down to a lower branch, she brought herself into his viewing capabilities. "Lost my boot." Sugar sheepishly giggled, sitting on a lower branch. "Mind giving me a hand?" She pointed at the boot, biting her lip ever so lightly, her eyelashes batting just a bit. Musn't come on too strong, oh no.

(ooc: Sorry it took so long! Please forgive Molly! Also: Where did you get your sig? I love it and want one just like it for Sugar! lol)

[OZZIE WAGERS]

Just as Max opened his eyes, he felt something smack him on the forehead. He sat up, rubbing his hand against the slowly growing lump on his head. Man, that hurt.

”Oh! I’m sorry!”

The voice had come from above him. Max looked up, there was a girl sitting on a branch of the tree beside which he had laid down. What the hell? Had she just been sitting up there the entire time watching him? He couldn’t deny it, that was mildly creepy, even if she was cute. He brushed his dark hair, wet from the light rain, out of his eyes, getting a better look at the girl sitting in the tree.

”What just… did you throw something, or-?” he started, still confused about whatever had just struck him in the head.

”Lost my boot. Mind giving me a hand?”

Oh. He looked around for her boot as he stood up, spotting it a few feet away. It must have bounced off of his face when it hit him. How had this even fallen off her foot? From his limited experience with boots, they didn’t tend to slip off as easily as, say, sandals, especially when they went halfway up your leg. Whatever though, he really kind of doubted that she had intentionally whacked him with her shoe. He didn’t even know the girl.

He picked up the shoe, tossing it to the girl, who now sat in a lower branch so he was at about eye level with her knees. She was pretty, with dark hair and a mischievous smile. Interesting, how she didn’t even mention the fact that she was sitting in a tree. Her clothing choice didn’t seem very fit for a day of tree-climbing… But hey, she was a girl. They liked dressing up and stuff, right?

”So is this a hobby of yours? Watching guys while they sleep?” he said, grinning to show that he was kind of joking.

notes;; i am glad you like max's sig hahaha, and i made it o3o
words;; 326