Without A Change • •

[Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb]

Rhiannon went months without her fears making an appearance. The light rains had never bothered her; it was only the massive storms that had her shaking in her Michael Kors rain boots. And those had her rocking back and forth in a corner somewhere so the glass couldn’t shatter and stab her, so the tornado couldn’t be seen when it spun through the building and took her to Oz. She had an overdramatic flair about her and her brother usually tried teasing her when she was in the middle of an attack, because he was the only one who really knew how deep her fear went, even the ridiculous parts like the windows breaking and being stabbed by the shards, or a tornado or something ripping through their apartment.

Making friends came naturally to her. She was usually so bubbly and ridiculous; when she left her cave, that is. It took a lot to get her to leave her apartment, but when she did, she usually ran into someone who became a friend of some capacity. She wasn’t a different person in front of certain people; she was the same with everyone. As long as a storm wasn’t about to hit, she was the same girl for everyone. And she felt like she was too set in her ways to change for anyone but that was okay because she thought she was a decent mix of annoying and fun. She was only another person, another Rhiannon when those storms hit, though usually she was home and nowhere near people. She didn’t find it as a weakness but she also didn’t know how to explain it to people; it was just a quirk of hers, and she had many. “I really hope so,” she whispered back because she didn’t know if she could get her voice any higher than it was.

Rhiannon was nearly asleep curled into Blaise's side, there but not really there and then he spoke up again and reality finally came crashing down around her. She wasn't curled into a familiar side, being lulled to sleep to keep her away from the storm thrashing outside. She was with a practical stranger! And though she called Blaise her friend, she really didn't know all that much about him. With Allela or even Nix, she knew so much about them, but Blaise there was bits and pieces but not enough. Her eyes snapped open and she bolted away from Blaise's side, her cheeks bright red. "Oh, God! I am so sorry! I don't... I. Oh, just shoot me," she finally finished, muttering to herself for nearly forgetting where she was. “I should really go,” she said, starting to rise when thunder rolled overhead and had her letting out a small squeal as she dropped to the ground again; she really had to get over this fear of hers! “Maybe not,” she squeaked, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Tag || Blaise!<3
Words | 489
Clothes || Hot Mess
Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil
Notes || <3

[Blaise MacKinley Stanton]

Blaise couldn’t really predict when he’d find his anxiety building. There could be fantastic mornings that turned into terrible afternoons and awful starts that could turn into not so bad endings. He had learnt to live with that and just took each day as it came and took the necessary precautions where he could to try and avoid letting his fears get the better of him. It wasn’t even that his fears ran off with him and gave him bizarre fantasies of terror. His imagination was brilliant at the best of times, but his anxiety and the panic that washed over him were the only things that could stifle it. The rest of the time, Blaise used his imagination as an escape from the worries and the doubts that liked to creep into his mind when he least expected it. Even then, it was an escape that only truly came with the tales of characters he read about in books or the adventures that were too great for him to ever experience.

He never really had friends who came to him with their troubles. They sort of knew him as being the one with all the demons to fight and so if something big and dramatic was going on in someone else’s life, Blaise was usually the last to be told. The same could be said about the small things, too. He didn’t mind it though and had come to terms with it a while back. He wasn’t the greatest at consoling others or reassuring them and he was often the friend that lingered on the edge of the group; the one most likely to decline an invitation or to go home first. This was the whole reason why he felt rather awkward right now, uncomfortable nearly. He wasn’t used to anything like…this, but he did want to help Rhiannon make it through the thunderstorm.

He blinked as she shot away from him, his arms still in the awkward position they had been in previously. Blaise really couldn’t look any more ridiculous if he had actually been trying! “Don’t say that!”

[/color] He snapped, though his voice stayed low and quiet. Blaise rarely ever raised his voice, even in anger. However, the phrase “shoot me” had never been one he liked and he always had the same reaction to it. He was sensitive, some might say overly so, but then since Blaise never spoke of it, the people in his life never knew that his father had been shot and killed in the line of duty when Blaise was still a little boy. Even now, when he was a grown man, he hated anything related to guns, even just words. Those were the pages he skimmed over and then forgot about, the things he liked to forget existed. Through all the years of doctors and therapy, it had been one thing that he couldn’t change.

“C-come on.” [/color] He walked into his kitchen and began grabbing bowls and other things from the cupboards. He tossed some ingredients into a mixing bowl, not bothering with precise measurements and then passed it over to Rhiannon, along with a large wooden spoon. “Mix that.”[/color] He instructed, flipping the switch to turn the small, slightly crackly radio on that lived on top of his refrigerator. His aunt had been a pastry chef and if she had suspected Blaise of having a bad day then she would often to this to help him take his mind off of everything for a few hours. By the time they were usually done the whole house would smell of vanilla and they’d have made quite the mess. He was an alright cook himself, but it was always more of a therapeutic thing for Blaise, rather than anything he would consider pursuing as a career. He put some more bits on the side, like chocolate chips, flakes and other sauces and treats his aunt had left there during her last visit. He just hoped this helped Rhi and took his mind off the haunting memory creeping back in.
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• • •

TAGGED! Rhi!
WORDS! 681!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects
NOTES! <3

[Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb]

She didn’t know when she started freaking out over storms, everyone said she was always like this but it didn’t matter either way. She freaked out every single time a storm hit and for her, it past getting annoying years ago. Rhiannon just wished she knew of a way to get over this silly fear of hers. Thankfully those storms were few and far between and even then she didn’t always catch them when she was working. Plus she helped so much more with her friend’s problems. Hers were usually so miniscule that they weren’t even worth bringing up most days and she would have happily kept her own little secret fear to herself for as long as she could. Blaise’s help did work though, which was nice. Only her family knew of this bothersome fear so it had only been them cheering her up and keeping her occupied. Blaise was the only one outside the family, aside from the doctors she’d seen, who knew. And he’d done well enough to get her mind off the raging storm that she’d nearly fallen asleep!

Rhiannon blinked, moving away from Blaise more. She’d only known him for a short time but in that time, not once had she ever heard him snap. Of the pair, she was the one with the quick temper! And that was saying something since her own temper wasn’t quick to surface. “I-I-I’m s-sorry.” Rhiannon stuttered out, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. She was smart enough to guess what part of what she’d said had drawn this new side of Blaise out. She didn’t have the faintest clue why but she could figure out the saying she used all too often, especially in her comics was to blame. She felt really bad for blurting it out. And she would have gotten up and left if the thunder and the lightning would have stopped. Rhiannon was perfectly alright with just the rain but as soon as the lightning flashed and the thunder boomed, she was a quivering mess.

Nodding, Rhi stood up, readjusting the shorts she was borrowing before following Blaise into his kitchen. She stood off to the side, unsure of what was going on. Rhiannon blinked, looking at the bowl like it had somehow magically appeared before her and wasn’t just pushed down the length of the counter top towards her. She picked up the wooden spoon and started in on her job. Giving her something to do while a storm brewed was probably one of the best things for her. “W-what are we making?” she asked quietly, continuing to mix the ingredients Blaise had tossed in the bowl. Rhi only hoped whatever it was turned out because she had a lovely habit of burning water. Cooking or baking were not a skill the young comic book artist could boast about.

Tag || Blaise!<3
Words | 477
Clothes || Hot Mess
Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil
Notes || <3

[Blaise MacKinley Stanton]

Blaise had always been bookish and shy. Even before his dad’s death he had been uncomfortable in some situations and lingered on the edge of socialising with his classmates. His anxiety and fears had just grown worse after the evening the doorbell rang and the devastated news had been delivered to his family. His therapy hadn’t been necessary to tell him why he was afraid, but it had been necessary to get him talking again. He was already kind of in a shell and in his grief he had retreated further into it until there was barely any way for anyone to reach him. That incident all those years ago had been merely a trigger for something that was already unavoidable for Blaise. The anxiety was always going to be there, he was always going to have to deal with it and he’d never be the life and soul of a party. On the positive side, going through everything he had been through made him slightly useful if there was anyone else in a panic around him; like now. Although he didn’t exactly realise that he was useful or helpful. The way Blaise saw it was that he was still just as nervous as ever and that he was likely to make things worse than he was better. Even helping Blaise found himself feeling pessimistic; it just seemed to be something he couldn’t help.

The very instant he snapped he regretted it. It wasn’t like Rhiannon had done it on purpose! Blaise never spoke about his father or his death. The only symbols of it were two photos in his apartment and the two tiny tattoos he had to honour the man. No one had seen enough to ask any questions and it wasn’t like it was something obvious that they assumed they had to avoid. And a phrase like that was used daily by more people than Blaise even cared to imagine! He had snapped, but he felt like he had no right to and the guilt of it instantly weighed down on him, making him feel dreadful. Rhi was already having a tough time dealing with the storm and her fears and the last thing she needed was Blaise making all of that worse. “N-no. It’s me wh-who should be the o-one apologising. I shouldn’t have snapped like-like that.”

[/color] He mumbled, unable to meet her gaze and instead choosing to stare at the floor beneath them, his fingers twisting and pulling at the rug he was forever tripping over in the mornings.

He didn’t exactly have a plan when he entered the kitchen. Blaise just wanted to try to make things better without anyone feeling uncomfortable. Rhiannon didn’t do so well with storms and he didn’t do so well with people so they were both in a rather interesting situation. Still, he knew he had to push through his own tough times or else he’d get nowhere in life and end up a recluse with nothing but books for company. “Cookies.”[/color] He answered as he adjusted the volume slightly on the radio to try and help block out the sound of the rain hitting the windows. It wasn’t exactly going to soundproof them, but it might help play a part in the distraction process. “There are s-some flavourings in the cupboard j-just there. You can choose what goes in, if-if you like.”[/color] He slid the chocolate chips and all the other treats closer to her. He didn’t mind if she went crazy and sugar overloaded everything. Blaise wasn’t exactly baking for anything special, so he wasn’t looking for amazing cookies; he just wanted to try to help Rhi.
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• • •

TAGGED! Rhi!
WORDS! 646!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects
NOTES! <3

[Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb]

Rhiannon had never been one to hide away. She hated being center stage but she was definitely not a wall flower. Her personality just wouldn’t allow it. She was far too rambunctious to stay in the background for long. And she had tried it a couple times. But if it wasn’t her own boredom demanding to be conquered, it was her mother wanting to show her off or her friends demanding she tag along on whatever exciting adventure they were on. Rhiannon was usually the one wearing the outrageous gown at the formal events her mother was on the board for, she was the one who went out and dyed her hair a ridiculously bright shade of red to stand out more! She walked up to random strangers and started conversations with them as if they’d been friends for years! The word wallflower would never, could never be used to describe the colourful eighteen year old.

The comic book artist did feel bad about her wording though. Doing what she did, she had a habit of using the same slang she would put into her comics and she knew all too well how some people just didn’t like it. Normally, she wouldn’t have apologised for anything she said or did, it just wasn’t Rhiannon Webb; she stood up for her work because she believed in it. She spent half her life trying her hardest to stand out and basically be talked about. But she liked Blaise and felt terrible for upsetting him; it had hardly been her intention. Rhi knew when she was wrong and tried to mend her mistakes when that was the case; like now. Slowly, Rhi moved closer to put her hand on Blaise’s, just for a second. “I should know better than to say things like that. I’ve been warned more than once.” She admitted with a small, but guilty smile.

Rhi just wanted to forget what was happening outside and so far, she was doing a good job at it considering she’d never had to go through a storm without her brother or uncle rushing in to save the day. The young artist knew she would have to figure things out on her own eventually but while they were around, it was nice to have the help. She wasn’t going to have it forever. “Oh, I love cookies.” She said smiling softly, going back to work mixing the ingredients in the bowl more. Rhiannon looked at all the things Blaise pushed her way picking up the chocolate chips and the toffee ones. “How does chocolate and toffee chip cookies sound?” She asked, holding up both baggies of treats. Rhiannon didn’t bake; she could barely cook without supervision so this was a treat for the brunette.

Tag || Blaise!<3
Words | 460
Clothes || Hot Mess
Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil
Notes || <3

[Blaise MacKinley Stanton]

Blaise flourished when he was in a world created by books and music. They were the two things that could shut his worrying mind off and allow him to relax and act like any other person in New York City. The spell of solace they provided was gone the second he put the book down or the song ended, but for that brief time Blaise was free from all anxiety and panic. Without them in his life he would probably still be in the same uncomfortable and distant state he had been in in the aftermath of his father’s death. That was something he was still grieving over, even if his mother had found the strength to move on and Blaise the strength to crawl out of his shell a little bit. He knew she worried about him being in New York and far enough away from home that she couldn’t be there in ten minutes if something did go wrong with him. But Blaise had known that it was time to move on and make something of his life even if his future was destined to be a quiet one with books and possibly a haven in a library.

There had been plenty of times when Blaise had left a room or a place, occasionally snapping at people before he went because of words they used, jokes they made or the things that were on TV or in the newspaper. He didn’t cope too well with the things that reminded him of his father’s untimely exit from the world, even after all these years had passed by. It left people feeling confused and with questions that Blaise simply didn’t want to answer. There were still topics or explanations that he wouldn’t share with his mom and she had worked ridiculously hard to break through to him during the years when Blaise wanted to talk to no one, not even the doctors who were trying to help him. He flicked his dark eyes up to look at Rhi when she touched him, but they were almost instantly fixed on the ground again a second later. He felt awkward right now, unable to explain his reaction, but not wanting her to feel guilty over something she couldn’t have known about or expected from him. “It’s fine.”

[/color] He mumbled, still not raising his gaze again to look at her. He had no idea what to do to fix things bow.

In the kitchen things were a little easier, he guessed. The radio wasn’t all that soothing with ridiculously annoying commercials being blasted for a good few minutes between each song and traffic updates after that, but it was noise enough to minimise how much rain they could hear hitting the window and the metal of the fire escape behind it. “Who doesn’t?”[/color] Blaise asked with a small and slightly nervous smile. For as long as he could remember there had always been someone to distract him with baking, using the process of making the yummy treats as a device to relax him when he was tense and visibly on edge. “Th-they sound good.”[/color] Blaise said with a slight nod as he rummaged through the drawers and cupboards for the cookie cutters and the rest of the equipment they might find useful. His aunt had practically stocked his kitchen to bake anything and everything he or any recipe book in New York might suggest.
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• • •

TAGGED! Rhi!
WORDS! 607!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects
NOTES! <3

[Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb]

For Rhiannon, her art was her world. She could lose herself in what she was doing for hours, not even realising time had passed at all. Sometimes it felt like five minutes when it had been as many hours instead. Drawing had been her escape since she was old enough to hold a pencil. She put all her feelings into the things she drew. It calmed her and it let her explore her creativity. Of course her parents weren’t pleased with her choice. They wanted her to go to school, get some sort of degree and then follow in her mother’s footsteps and fill her days with charities and social boards. Rhiannon was not the social board type of girl. For the first few years of her life she spent her days in bright colours and tutus because her mother wouldn’t let her dye her hair funky colours. And then when she was twelve, she was left at the stylist by herself and given the choice for what happened to her hair. A few hours later, Rhiannon emerged with curls and hair the colour of red velvet cupcakes.

Her father had been furious with the red hair but her mother just thought it was absolutely her. Her mother let her be creative with her appearance but she still wanted her daughter to finish school and continue on to university. It would probably break her heart if she ever found out her little girl had taken those tuition cheques and bought an apartment, furniture and extra art supplies. And her father would more than likely disown her but she had always done what she wanted and his disapproval wouldn’t stop her now. With her father she was probably lucky she could say whatever the hell she wanted without him yelling at her for it. But she still felt back about opening her big mouth and upsetting people. She was a girl with a tiny bit of a conscience. “Okay.” She said, unsure how to proceed, so she just dropped it.

Blaise was probably the only person Rhiannon knew outside her family who knew what she was going through. And even then, he had an edge having his own fears and issues. Her brother, bless him, tried to help her out but he really didn’t know what the hell he was doing or what she was going through. And while her parents gave up, her uncle still tried. The music Blaise blasted helped hide the sound of raindrops on ever available surface outside and it was a definite start to calming the young artist down. But she would never really calm completely until the rain stopped. “I’m sure there’s someone out there!” She said, grinning. She didn’t know how those people got through life without cookies. She could barely go a week without stopping at the bakery and picking up a dozen while she was out running errands. “They really do. I just hope they taste as good as they sound!” Rhiannon joked. She stirred the mixture in the bowl a couple more times before leaning the wooden spoon against the inside of the bowl. “I think that’s it. What’s next?” She asked, turning to her friend for instruction.

Tag || Blaise!<3
Words | 537
Clothes || Hot Mess
Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil
Notes || <3

[Blaise MacKinley Stanton]

Blaise had never been the little boy who liked football, baseball or running around and rolling in the dirt. He hid under the kitchen table when guests came around and then clung to his parents whenever he was unable to hide there. He kept quiet, hidden and his happiness came in the pages of classic stories. Whenever he had a book in his lap his parents got the best out of him and soon he was known for bringing his favourite stories to parties, just for when his parents needed ten minutes from playing his personal human shield. No matter what life threw at him it was the books that always helped him. All of his worries vanished and his stresses faded away when he had books. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, but books spilling off the shelves and posing a safety hazard were probably a sure thing for years to come. Blaise didn’t mind that. He knew that books brought him a freedom his anxiety did not and they saved him from burdening others; something he absolutely hated and what made him feel worse on extra tough days.

His parents had just let him be the boy he was. When his father had been alive they had bonded over guitars and music rather than sports. His mom let him fill his room with books more than toys. Blaise had a pretty quirky imagination that he kept mostly to himself, but without it his childhood would have been something entirely different. There were many things that might have changed his past, but Blaise’s only wish was that his father had survived that night. He didn’t need the rest of the things he had “wanted” as a kid. They had all seemed so meaningless and silly after the detective had been there on the porch step with that look on his face and those rehearsed words rolling from his tongue. That night had been the most pivotal moment in Blaise’s life so far and there was so much that stemmed from the things that he had seen or realised from there. Mostly, that night had twisted him slightly into the man he was today. He often wondered how different things could have been if his dad had never been killed. He would be a different guy that was for sure. He might not have needed the therapy or the medication, but they were things he couldn’t go back and change now. He also wouldn’t be so shockingly touchy over certain little casual things that most people probably didn’t think twice about. That was something that often came up and what Blaise wished he could alter the most. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t let go of those words that stung him or the scenes in TV shows and movies that hit a chord and made him change the channel or hit the stop button. Part of him thought he never would snap out of that.

Blaise didn’t claim to be an expert just because he had his own anxiety problems. People dealt with different things in different ways and his calming techniques may not be useful to others just like their ideas for relaxation may not be any use to him. With Rhiannon and the thunderstorm though, Blaise did his best and hoped it was enough. He was close to panicking himself, but that was because of the social situation rather than the atrocious weather they were currently experiencing. Whenever he felt helpless of clueless he didn’t react so well. “Then they’re the on-ones missing out.”

[/color] He said with just a hint of a smirk as he prepared his oven for the cookies coming its way, twisting the dials and moving some of the trays out of the way. He lined two of them and then passed them to Rhi, glancing in the bowl to make sure for himself that everything looked good there. “We’ll just ha-have to s-see, I guess.”[/color] His kitchen was small, but they both comfortably fit in there. Blaise just liked to keep it tidy and so while Rhiannon moved on to making the mixture into the cookies they were both eager to taste, he began putting some of the stuff they were done with away. “The oven is set, s-so you can just put the trays in when you’re r-ready.”[/color]
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• • •

TAGGED! Rhi!
WORDS! 735!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects
NOTES! <3