`these are the days | criss

[lori]

IT DON'T SHOW WHAT'S DEEP INSIDE
IT'S REALLY NO REFLECTION OF MY YOUTH

A long day of classes ended early for everyone, not just Ms. Whitman's oil painting class. Whether or not all the teachers had the same idea, Lori would have let her students out early anyway. She didn't do this a lot, often keeping her students past the bell, as if they would get a brush stroke or two further. She hated the ending of class, especially with a class that had a passion for what they did. There was a select group of students she got every year, for whatever reason, who blew off her class as if they were back in a regular high school art room. She made sure to emphasize that it was not a regular high school, that the words 'performing and visual arts' in the name had a significant meaning. But for whatever reason these few students were randomly put into her class, maybe because of a scheduling error or the one they originally signed on for was full, who knows. She lived with their mediocre work.

She allowed her class to leave early for a couple of reasons: it was a Friday for one and easy to see the class' attitude and ambition was on the coming weekend; two it was too much of a gorgeous day to remain inside; and three she had gotten a horrible headache out of the blue. She needed the fresh air as much as she wanted to be out in it. Her students did as well, she could see it in the way they asked why class wasn't held outdoors. Well, there was a couple reasons for that as well. The main one being because the current assignment could not be directly influenced by a true model. The other was because word had leaked that board members would be roaming the halls incognito and as much as Lori didn't care whether or not she got reprimanded for it, she wasn't in the mood for sticking up for artistic muse. Her headache could be thanked for that one.

After remaining in the classroom for a few extra minutes, just in case a student were to come in with a question, Lori packed up her things and headed out to her car. She piled everything in the trunk of the SUV, which was nearly filled to capacity, and zipped out of the lot just behind the Sculpting teacher. She thought about making a stop home, decided not to, then just before passing her usual route home decided to do so and headed for her apartment complex. She allowed the SUV to idle out front while she jogged across the sidewalk and up the front steps to the elevator. Pressing 'up', Lori leaned back against the wall as the shaft clattered upward to her floor. She was greeted by a black and white ball of fur and barks before she barely had the door open. "Maggie." The woman laughed, pushing the dog down so she could walk. The border collie's nail clicked on the tiled floor of the kitchen as she followed Lori around like a shadow. "All right, let's go." Finding the leash she had been looking for, Lori clipped it onto Maggie's collar, grabbed her house keys again, and headed back out the door. She usually didn't keep Maggie on a leash, the dog was obedient enough, but the landlord wasn't a very 'pet friendly' person, just allowed them because he would be down about half his boarders otherwise. As they headed for the elevator again, Skippy, the Shih-Tzu next door began scratching at the door and howling. Maggie paused to sniff at the door jam but continued on when she felt a light tug on her leash.

Holding Maggie's leash around her wrist back at the car, Lori leaned in to make room for the dog before allowing her to leap into the car and unhooking the leash. She couldn't spend such a beautiful day out at the pier while Maggie sat alone in the apartment. She thought about calling up Gracie to see if her adopted daughter wanted to tag along, but figured she better not. Chances were she already had plans for the weekend with her friends, and to break them to spend time with your adopted mother would be "social suicide" as Gracie once told Lori. She was sort of let down, not seeing her daughter that much anymore. Teenagers were so hard to deal with, with their rebellious behavior and attitudes. She would always remember when Gracie was little and all she wanted to do was paint with "mommy". Yeah, there was no more "mommy", Lori would be lucky if she got a "mom" out of Grace. Now it was, "Lori", now that Grace was old enough to understand that Lori had adopted her when she was three because her mother didn't want her and Lori didn't have her own children. It didn't matter though, Gracie was still her daughter, blood didn't matter to her.

Staring through her side view mirror to check for oncoming cars, Lori signaled that she was pulling out and headed back down the road toward the pier. Flipping her visor down to reveal a row of CDs, she picked a mixed one Grace made for her the year before, and pushed it into the slot. Lori wasn't the most knowledgeable when it came to technology so anything dealing with it was saved for Grace, or one of her students if it was in class. She often had a student or two behind her computer trying to fix or do something so simple, yet too difficult for Lori. Mozart blasted through the speakers, causing Lori to jump in fright at the sudden noise. "Oh! Grace." She mumbled through a clenched jaw as she leaned over to turn the volume down to a comfortable level.

For the duration of the ten minutes ride to the pier, Maggie sat in the backseat with her head out the window; ears flapping in the wind, tongue waving about. Lori had to park a distance away from the entrance, all of the designated parking spaces for the pier having been taken up. Fall was here in another week or so, the warm summer air packing up to make room for a cold winter on Lake Michigan. The pier's popularity would soon be faltering. Most of the tourists would be heading out west or to New England for ski season and the city would quiet down a considerable amount. To a newcomer it really wouldn't seem like much of a change; Chicago was a fairly large city, but to someone who's lived here long enough would be able to tell. School was also beginning to come back in throughout the nation, so this would be one last day to enjoy before heading for the airport home.

"Come on, Mags." Lori opened the back door for the border collie to jump out. She remained near the vehicle while Lori opened the back and reached for her art bag, floor easel, and stool. Everything was compact for easy transport; sometimes not the most sturdy of items, but after some handy work from a hardware store clerk on the Magnificent Mile, she felt safe enough using them. Making sure to close the back and lock the SUV after remembering her keys, Lori allowed Maggie to lead the way to the pier. The dog knew where they were headed, having been going to the same spot for the past few weeks as Lori worked on a painting. She was nearly done with it, just having to add a few more intricate details.

Stopping across the way from the Wave Swinger of Pier Park, with the Ferris Wheel in view. She stood for a couple moments examining the image in front of her before moving about ten feet to the right until she was about where her painting was at. She set her things down, keeping an eye on Maggie as she wandered around the shrubbery, and unfolded her easel to set up. She took a full ten minutes to set herself up with her oil paints, palette, brushes and everything else before pulling out the work of art and setting it on the easel. Oils usually took a good two days to dry, therefore making the process of packing things up a lot harder than unpacking. Lori didn't get a chance to paint outside her apartment often, because of the hassle, but she just felt it would be a good way to end the summer season before much of the Pier closed down. Finally making sure she had everything organized and not spread all over the walkway, Lori tied a smock around her and hopped onto her stool. She looked around quickly for Maggie to make sure she hadn't wandered too far, finding her sniffing at an old french fry dropped on the concrete. The dog then ate it and began searching for more. It couldn't have been that old or she would have most likely ignored it. Lori went back to her painting after seeing Maggie start wandering back in her direction. Pushing her glasses further up her nose, she leaned in closer to the canvas with a fine-tipped brush.

Totally concealed by her canvas, Lori only peered over it occasionally to refresh the image in her memory, then disappeared again. She had to have been hunched over for maybe a half an hour before taking a short break to relax her spine. As she leaned back to stretch out, her butt began to vibrate. "Oh!" She jumped from the stool onto the cement and reached around for her cell phone that she had completely forgotten was there. Trying to pull it out with her cleanest fingers, the Razr ended up slipping from her two-finger grasp and dropping onto the ground. Maggie got up from the spot where she had lain down and sniffed at it, growling lightly when it continued to vibrate. "Oh stop." Lori wiped her fingers on her smock before reaching down for the phone and flicking it open. "Hello?" She held it to her ear but no one responded. "Hello?" Looking at the phone she saw it was still connected and yet nothing was happening. Pressing the green 'send' button, Lori tried again to speak to whomever was calling but now all she was getting was the operator message. "Oh, this damn thing!" She held it in front of her, moving her classes down to the tip of her nose so she could see it better but now the screen was back to it's main settings. She was not meant for the world of technology, period.

`TAG viktor criss smirnov
`WORD COUNT 1826
`LYRICS troubadour by george strait
`AVATARS me, myself, and i
`OOC yay done!!

[Viktor Criss Smirnov]

Don't look down,
Don't look down, you'll fall down.
.... 

Everyone was in the mood holidays. Here it was only just September and already talk of Halloween was in the air. Soon Thanksgiving and Christmas would follow. Criss knew all to well what it was to long for those days when he could just sleep in and not haveing to even consider rolling out of bed until after noon. They approached fast but never came fast enough. Criss sat slouched in his chair, with it leaned against the wall behind him. His feet resting on the desk. He'd released class early by nearly fifteen minutes. He was sure to hear about it later if and when the dean caught wind of it. But he was tired of listening to the students complain about the review for the final exams that were hot an heavy upon them. The review was exactly like the final, the review had one hundred questions, the final would only have fifty, plus a short essay about their favorite or least favorite part of the class. That alone only had to be two-hundred and fifty words, one side of a sheet of notebook paper roughly an yet they complained. The students last year seemed to like that set up, but this group seemed hell-bent on making him growly. He knew he couldn't please everyone, but he liked to try. Even if doing so only seemed to stress him out. He was the kind of guy who wanted to keep people happy his sister more so but honestly if he could make others happy along the way what harm was there in it, none!

He let them out because he simply din't want to hear them anymore. Half weren't even paying attention as he "tried" to go over and give them them the answers for the reveiw. But they didn't care so why should he bother. Criss had muttered several colorful words in his native tongue as he gave up the fight. "Class is dismissed." He'd said abruptly. Most of the students looked down right shocked by his words. "I'm not kidding, if you don't want to listen then I'm not going to waste my time. This back row over here." He said pointing to the row, "And you four over here may leave. The rest of you can stay and get the answers for the review if you so desire." Those groups got up without a word. "Come back Monday ready to work, have a good weekend." He told them as they left. With that taken care of he looked back to his remaining class. "Now then, let's get back to this." He went on and went over the answers until five minutes till the bell. It was then that he had let the rest of the class go.

Criss was all growly when his sister came to his classroom. She litterally crawled into his lap as they sat talking, him ranting about everything, and how he was brunt out on teaching, or this group this year, and wanted to go back to his passion to the magic and the music. Lamia understood, she calmed him down made him feel not so quite growly. Finally at nearly four thirty, he went to clock out with his sister lingering at his side. He knew he'd have to take the extra time off that wasn't a big deal. Criss and his sister made their way home on his Kawasaki Ninja 450. They'd gotten home made spegetti ate and cleaned up. With that done, he decided he'd go for his nitely walk, Obezyanka was pleased, his tail wagged. He extended an offer to Lamia, but she turned him down on account of homework. He smiled at her, smat kid, why couldn't his little sister be like those students in his class today? She always cared, had enough sense not to be disrespectful. But then they were different, they had grown up together, knew what buttons to push and which to not.

Changing his shirt pulling on a black sleeveless shirt he pulled his black steel toed boots back on not bothering with socks, then quickly clipped the leather leash onto Obezyanka's collar, the dog barked happily his tail wagging. Criss smiled opening the door and they both walked out, a quick check for his keys and Criss locked the door back behind him then the pair set off. As he passed his bike he paused smiling looking to his dog. "Dawai Obez'." (Come on) He said to his dog as he climbed onto his bike, putting the key into the ignition, he revved the engine. With that his bike moved to life. Criss kept to the side streets so he could go slow enough his canine friend could keep up without trouble. At stoplight along the way, to where ever, Criss didn't know yet, he felt a paw on his leg. Smiling he pat his leg lightly an Obezyanka leapt up onto the bike. Criss had to scoot back a bit to make room for his large companion. He'd driven with Obezyanka on his bike before but that was when he was a pup. With the dog balanced there on his bike Criss went when the light turned green slowly at first getting the feel for his bike with the added pounds of his dog. Finally he got and zoomed off quicker now. He had the leash wrapped around his arm and hand tightly to keep Obezyanka secure there. The dog didn't mind he lay his head down in the middle of the handle bars where all the gas and speed gages were. Criss laughed, pressing his legs tighter around the dog holding him in place. A sign just up a head caught Criss' eye, "Navy Pier" he'd lived in the city for over two years now and he'd never been up here. Signaling he turned towards it.

It wasn't long before they reached the pier, parking was easy enough when you had a bike, slipping into a slot near the grass, he cut the engine. Criss let the leash untwine from his arm and hand, and Obezyzanka jumped off and sniffed around heavily, Criss pulled the keys from the ignition shoving cliping them back to the chain on his pants put the kickstand down then got off himself. Criss took of at a run and Obezyanka quickly followed suit keeping up easily with his owner. Criss still needed to blow of a little extra steam or energy, likely both. He saw other's here with their dogs, so it surly was no problem them here. They ran a fair bit before Criss slowed to a steady walk, his breathing heavy from the brisk run. Obezyanka panted lightly, neither were truly tired yet but Criss kind of wanted to look around it was kind of pretty, all the water was down righe peaceful. He smiled, Lamia would love this, she like being near the water. With the air blowing in cool across it, the sweet smells that lingered here were lovely too. He could see in the distance shops and resturants, already in his mind he thought of bringing Lamia, she'd love the shops. He wouldn't mind the food but mostly just being with her. Though part of him wanted to go explore now, he didn't knowing the dog at his side wouldn't really like the close quarters with strangers outside of his turf. Obezyanka was a big dog, a Caucasian Ovcharka, bred for the colder climates of Russia as a guard dog. Obezyanka knew this, somehow, and he guarded his family well. He wasn't a biter, Criss and Lamia had trained him far to well for that, but he was big and intemidating, it wouldn't take much of a growl from the big boy to make people shy away. Even a little curl over his lips to show his fangs would make people back away. Obezyanka like his breed was like a big teddy bear too, only hurtting if he or his "flock" were threatend. Besides all that Criss was content along the water, watching the seagulls dipping and diving along the water's surface. So togther man a dog walked happily along, one looking with his eyes, the other was all nose. At his right he saw the Ferris Wheel, he watched it moving around in circles, his eyes following the movement. It amost made him dizzy if he'd have kept stareing at it.

A voice suddenly caught his ears, his eyebrows raised as he looked towards the woman he'd only just noticed, he blinked slightly, she looked familiar perhaps someone he'd seen at a resturant or at school. She sounded all to annoyed with her cell phone. He chuckled lightly, hoping it wasn't to obvious. "It's suppose to make our lives easier, honestly why do we bother?" He asked with his accent heavy in his voice. "You need a little help with it?" He offered politely he knew how tecknowlgy was, there were times he wished to throw his laptop across the room when it refused to load quickly. Walking the last few feet to her, he paused looking at her painting, "Wow.." He said looking from it to the Ferris Wheel wheel. "You're really good." He told her sincerly looking at the canvas again. It was like looking at a photograph, so detailed and perfect. He would have never had the patience to sit still long enough to paint something that detailed. Not to mention the fact that he had no skills in the art, if he'd tried it would have been like a child's finger painting project only far more mess.

.... 
Tag : "You're it!" -Sorry ;p Always say that when I hear tag..
Words : 1666 - O.o
Siggy : By me
Random : Love your siggy, Noelle made yes? ^^ The flowers are pretty, with that background an' border.

[/size]

[lori]

LIFE IS COMPLICATED WITH ITS IFS ANDS AND BUTS
IT'S ALRIGHT TO BE CRAZY, JUST DON'T LET IT DRIVE YOU NUTS

With no idea why she had gotten a cell phone in the first place, Lori held down the red button as Grace showed her to do and turned the phone off completely. Then she turned it back on, but the screen remained black. Growling under her breath, she slammed the device closed and set it on her stool. "Now what, Maggie? I'm too worked up to go back to work." There would be no possible way she could sit still any longer than a few minutes now with the rush of adrenaline she just got from being so annoyed. The dog sat with her head cocked to the side, listening, but offered no suggestion. Sighing, Lori simply stared at her pet as she stared back, waiting and hoping the dog's mouth would move in some sort of direction as to what she should do. Maybe they should just pack things up and head back to the apartment, it was getting to be past dinner time anyway.

Before she had a chance to make a definite decision, a heavy accent spoke her very thought just a few moments before. Her body turned toward the voice, and the young man from which it came. "Yeah right...easier." She laughed at the idea. "The easiest thing it's helped me do is fork out money to pay for the damn thing." And a lot of money at that, especially since Gracie was on her plan-thing, as well. Somehow, she had been talked into getting a phone that texted, which was something for the life of her, Lori could not figure out. Gracie did make an attempt at teaching her and Lori got the gist of it, but when she ended up spelling things wrong and tried to fix them she would either delete the whole message or type more gibberish. Even if she did get a text, always from Gracie, it was all in chat-speak and she ended up calling her anyway just to ask what she said. It just wasn't worth the trouble it caused.

"My daughter talked me into getting it." Grace too said that it would make things so much simpler. That Lori didn't have to bother with calling all her friends' houses to find out which one she was at and could call her cell phone instead. Lori agreed, but also thought it was because she didn't want to be embarrassed by Lori calling her friends parents to get a hold of her. She would always chat with the parents for a while and Gracie didn't much like that. Why, Lori could never guess. She wanted to know her daughter's friends, and their parents. But usually afterward, Lori would apologize for making life so difficult for Grace, who would laugh and then things were good again. Their relationship was a good one, even with the unresolved resentment. Lori really never believed it was toward her directly, but the situation. If her mother hadn't wanted her, Lori would probably have the same attitude Grace did.

Jumping at the young man's offer for assistance, Lori nodded slightly. "Be my guest. Lord knows, I'll never get it to work." She stepped back as he moved closer to make enough room, grabbing the phone from the stool. She tried again to turn the thing on as he viewed her artwork. Holding on to the temple of her glasses to hold them in place, her head bent down to see over them at the painting. "I'd better hope so, since I teach it at the arts school downtown." She did know the talent she had and certainly had enough people complimenting her work and admiring it, 'thank you' just got hackneyed after a while. Letting go of her glasses, she extended her arm to offer up her phone. Even if this boy intended on stealing it, which wouldn't surprise her by initial appearance, she would more then let him have it.

`WORD COUNT 683
`LYRICS simply complicated by jimmy buffet
`AVATARS me, myself, and i
`OOC nope, made by me xD thank you though! lolol

[Viktor Criss Smirnov]

Don't look down,
Don't look down, you'll fall down.
.... 

The dark haired Russian, had a cell because it was the best way to keep in touch with his sister. For anyone it was good for emergencies. Criss looked to his dog speaking a string of words in his native tongue that went without being understood. Obezyanka gave a light short bark as if in understanding, then looked to the other dog not far from him. Criss' icy blue eyes studied the woman a second she looked familiar though he couldn't place as to where he'd seen her. Shrugging it off, he wasn't meaning to stare.

He smiled lightly with a laugh at her thoughts, "Yea, they're not cheap. An the signal is never good enough when you need. it" He replied. He wasn't totally sure what his plan was, but he knew it entailed texting as he and his sister did quite a bit of that. More text than spoken, he couldn't recall in fact the last time he'd called her.

Nodding lightly, "Aww well you daughter was just looking out for you. Cells are good when the want to work." He told her lightly. Criss wasn't big on talking on a phone, if he had something to say he'd rather say it in person. It was easier to read the person's reactions that way too, so much could be hidden in a person's voice. He liked to see the reactions and hear the words not just to rely on the human voice when the true answers were deep within the soul. They always say the eyes window to the soul, the mouth is but the door to the mind. Criss like to be able to see both so that he could form his own opinions.

His offer was sincere only halted by her art work. "I'll do my best, may just be something simple." He said his accent coming heavily again from his lips. Criss' drifted to her a moment as if studying her a moment. "You teach there? " He asked, a light laugh escaped his lips, "I thought you looked familiar. A small world, I do too, Music teacher, I'm the 'rebel' that walks the halls dressed about like this.. only I usually have sleeves." He joked then added, "The name's Criss." He offered. Criss had no intention at all of stealing this woman's cell phone. He didn't really what the one he had, much less another one. He would have extended his hand to shake hers, but she held her cell out to him. Taking it in his hand, he flipped it open eying it critically, as he held down the "end" button to see if it would actually turn on. He made a "humm" sound as he flipped it over in his hand. Sliding the back panel down with his thumb. Holding it between his finger tips he slid the battery out. "I take it you're the painting teacher. I know Ive seen you around the school before. Just didn't pay attention I suppose." He said in polite conversation as he put the battery back in. Flipping the cell over in his palm again he held down the "end" key again until the cell flickered to life. He slid the back panel back on letting it click into place. "That should do it, for you. If it ever starts being a pain again just take the battery out for a bit an put it back. That usually fixes whatever is wrong with it."


.... 
Words : 674
Random : You're welcome. You two have a similar style then. ^^ I really do love it.

[/size]

[lori]

IT DON'T SHOW WHAT'S DEEP INSIDE
IT'S REALLY NO REFLECTION OF MY YOUTH

It was odd how the tables suddenly turn when Lori started having problems with her cell phone or computer or putting something together. She was old enough to be someone grandmother, but thankfully no one was calling her by that term yet and she hoped not for another long time. She was always taking care of Grace, at least for the past fourteen years or so, and her world literally revolved around Grace's schedules; not so much anymore though. Then suddenly this new things comes along and it's like Grace is taking care of Lori, not in the same sense obviously but it was just something that made Lori ponder once in a while. It sometimes made her feel incompetent, especially when it was something so simple as Criss was saying. Grace often said the same thing and would take the phone and with the press of a button it was miraculously fixed. Maybe there was a manual somewhere she could pick-up; "Technology for Dummies".

"It does always turns out to be something simple when I'm not the one trying to fix it." She usually did seem to make it worse. Thankful for the help, Lori was able to get the frustration off her mind and tried to clean off her paint-splattered hands on her smock again. Her fingers were going to be stained for the next couple days, but there probably wasn't a time that they weren't. When Criss mentioned he was a teacher at the same school she was, something clicked in her head and she saw him in the halls now. "Oh! I have seen you before. I always thought you were a student." She laughed, glad she got that cleared up before bumping into him in the hall and creating a mess there. "I'm glad that was cleared up, I almost called you out on the dress code." Even though there really wasn't a strict one like most private schools, and even if there were, Lori wouldn't be much of an enforcer, some of Criss' choices walked the line of appropriate. She was delighted to meet a fellow 'rebel' teacher.

"Lori Whitman, I would offer a handshake but, uh..." She held her colorful hands for him to see. She wanted to spread her love of art, but not quite in that way. Lori only nodded when he mentioned her being the painting teacher, finding that to be a fair bet. While he fiddled with her cell phone, she looked back at her border collie whose tail was sweeping the walkway as she studied the other dog just a few feet away. Maggie wasn't a territorial dog, unless it was her own turf at the apartment, and would gladly spend any free time romping around with another canine companion. She absolutely adored the park. Making a plan to take a trip to the park over the weekend, maybe, Lori put it to the back of her mind when Criss began talking about her phone. "So now I have to take the battery out to fix it? Just a few days ago all I had to do was turn it off then turn it back on again." She laughed at herself and the complexity of such a tiny device. Lori still never understood how something so small could do what it can.

"Well, thank you." Taking her cell back, Lori turned the device back on and waited for the greeting message to disappear and her wallpaper to load. '1 new voicemail' flashed on the screen underneath the '1 missed call' reminder. Pressing 'OK' she was brought to the 'Missed Calls' page and saw it was Grace who had caused all the disruption. Now she just had to get to the voicemail. "Um, it says I have a voicemail. How do I get to it?" She never usually got voicemails, always trying to avoid figuring out how to use the feature by answering her phone every time it rang, of course that didn't always work and when that happened she just got Grace to go through them by nonchalantly leaving her cell set somewhere near her while it was still buzzing. Always seemed to work.

`WORD COUNT 722
`LYRICS troubadour by george strait
`AVATARS me, myself, and i
`OOC very sorry for the long-ass time it took me to reply. been lazy for the most part >.< and usually when i get a mood to reply something comes up to distract me and when I get back to it no longer feel like it. lmao!

[Viktor Criss Smirnov]

Don't look down,
Don't look down, you'll fall down.
.... 

Criss believed in fate, that everything happened for a reason. Just as he thought it rude to not show respect to those around him, his 'elders'. He wouldn't call her grandma even in joke. She if anything would be Ms. Whitman unless he was ever told to call her otherwise. He didn't ever see himself as a grandfather, because he never thought he'd become a father. His son was his dog, but his life was his sister. Lamia was everything he didn't need anything else. Technology wasn't his favorite thing either, but he knew his way around it. As for that book, "Technology for Dummies" He'd seen enough of those "Dummy" books, that he had no doubts that there was likely one. In fact he'd be more surprised if there wasn't one.

"Works that way sometimes I suppose. I just know I've had to do that before with my cell or my sister's." He replied. Criss didn't claim to know everything about electronics or technology but he could usually figure it out. He wasn't shocked he didn't look or act like a teacher. On more than one occasion he'd been stopped in the hall and questioned, about his appearance and actions. "I've heard that more than once. I don't exactly fit the profile of authority." He agreed with a light laugh as well. "Good with you too, I knew you were a teacher but it's good to have a name to the face." Criss said of that front, then paused looking down at his clothes with a nod. "Not exactly the norm is it?" He said with a smile, his accent coming heavily in his voice. Often he thought himself as a 'rebel' as well. More so in high school but now he still kind of was.

"Understandable, and nice to meet you." Criss replied with a smile at her hands. They were rather painted, remind him quite a bit of in his younger school years when and finger painting.. That had certainly been a while. Obezyanka sat near Criss his large pink gray tongue hanging out of his mouth between his teeth. Criss glanced to his dog then back up to Lori. "No not necessarily. The power button should fix it most of the time." He said glancing at the cell again"One thing I just noticed, look at the right corner. That symbol there that looks a battery. It's low so that's likely your problem. Sometimes taking out battery like I did, can extend the charge a little longer." Criss said with a smile at her as she laughed.

"You're most welcome." He replied as she took her cell back. Watching absently as he ran his fingers through his hair. When she questioned him he looked at her palm and the cell within. "Hit 'end' and it will take you back to your main screen. Then try hitting the 'one' key and talk. It'll call the voice mail. Then from there it'll go through and tell you what to hit to call the person back delete the message or save it." He answered offering a little more than she'd asked for but figuring it might be useful later. It had took some playing and frustration to figure out his new cell too. If he messed with it long enough even now he was bound to find something new.

.... 
Words : 660
Random : No worries on the delay, I understand. been busy with school myself. ^^ An sorry on my half for the cruddy reply. Writer's block.. >.<

[/size]

[lori]

IT DON'T SHOW WHAT'S DEEP INSIDE
IT'S REALLY NO REFLECTION OF MY YOUTH

A smile spread over Lori's aging face when Criss called himself out on his attire, claiming it wasn't the "norm". What really was the "norm" style now-a-days? It seemed that everyone always had their own unique style. When Lori was growing up, way back in the day, being unique was considered Communist and this was in the '50s when everyone was similar in where they lived, what they wore, and their daily routine. Which was odd since Communism was really centered around everyone being the same anyway. Kind of contradicting back in the '50s when anything new or unique was frowned upon. No wonder the government is the way it is now. Paranoia, that's all it was and is. "Well, unconventional is pretty normal to me. I'm not much of an orthodox person myself." She found there was more fun in spontaneity and free expression. Which was why living in the '50s was so frustrating for her, although she wold have only been 5 years old by the end of the decade, old enough to care anyway.

Getting back onto the topic of her phone, Lori looked at the corner where he was referencing and, after adjusting her glasses, was able to see the little battery shaped icon. The image was in fact blinking in warning about the low battery. "Oh. I'm assuming that is what that wire is for that came with it then." It also explains the unidentifiable hole at the base of the device. It was all starting to come together. She didn't ask Grace about the charger, already feeling her age when her daughter was trying with as much patience as possible to explain the basic functions. After finding out about the charge, she followed his next instruction and pressed the red button that said 'End' until she was looking at the Renoir painting that was her wallpaper. She pressed '1' and held the phone to her ear as an electronic voice began speaking and asking her to press a certain number to match the function she wanted. When it asked about listening to new messages she hit the corresponding key and waited until the voice message played.

"Lori, it's Grace. I hope you get this before it's too late. I'm home now but your not here, obviously. I'm going to hang with some friends tonight at the pier. I know we had plans for a movie but I hope it's okay if we reschedule 'till the weekend when I have more time. I'm leaving my bag here so I'll stop in later to grab it before I head back to school and say hi. Love you. Bye"

As the message progressed, Lori could feel her expression falling little by little. To be honest she had forgotten about their movie night anyway, but now that Grace mentioned it she did feel rather put down that they would be skipping it. Until the weekend didn't necessarily mean anything, chances were that come Friday night she would get another call saying Grace was taking a rode trip with some friends out of town for the weekend or decided to stay at school because she had a test to study for that she forgotten until last minute like always. Closing the phone with a sigh, Lori looked down at her canine companion. "Looks like it's just you and me tonight, girl." Remembering criss standing there she smiled and held her phone up. "My daughter, friends over family." Adopted daughter technically, but Lori never said that unless it was brought up. "Typical teenager. But I don't need to be telling you that, seeing as you don't look much older than one yourself."

Now that Grace had made her more aware of the time, Lori did take notice to the fading light. "I suppose I'd better get packed up." Normally, the dying light would have been perfect to paint, but as she got older it got harder on her eyes. She replaced the cell phone in her pocket where it came from and began untying her smock. "Thank you again for all your help. You were a life saver." She flashed and appreciative smile before pulling the smock from over her head and folding it up to put in her bag. She then began closing up all of her paint tubes, some with difficulty because of the globs of dried paint sticking to the cap and tossing them into the box she kept them and and putting them too in the bag.

`WORD COUNT ---
`LYRICS troubadour by george strait
`AVATARS me, myself, and i
`OOC again, sorry sorry. big project assigned for history and im getting psychotically involved with reading this book series i started when i was like 12 and never finished >.< and for the poopyness of the post. lmao

[Viktor Criss Smirnov]

Don't look down,
Don't look down, you'll fall down.
....

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At her smile his face showed one of his own even if he wasn't quite sure what she was smiling about. It was more out of being polite. However, of the subject of his 'norm'. He knew he didn't follow the tends of the teachers and authority with them suits and button down shirts with the tie. But that wasn't him. He was laid back, the joker one for fun and being able to relax taking life as it came. The whole idea nine to five had never been him. Just as the dress style of the fifties. The sixties wouldn't have been so bad when it came to close, all the peace love and all the jazz of the times. He would have loved the rock n' roll and Woodstock movement that was him. Perhaps without the long hair and the tie-dyed shirts he was trying to bring back that look. He was twenty-two, he'd seen the eighties end and now into the next generation. Criss was one of those people that had a pair of bell bottoms and clothes from past eras for when they came back into fad. Everything did eventually.

Nodding lightly of her cell phone. "Yea, that would be the one." He replied looking her cell. "It only goes in one way so there's no chance of putting it in wrong." He added. Technology wasn't an easy thing for anyone to learn, some just took to it better. Criss wasn't one of them usually. But once something like say a cell phone or a computer is figured out, for the most part, all were similar enough to piece together how to work them again. He watched without starring totally as she did as he told her. He noted her background. "Your background, is pretty." He said admiring it. His was his dog. Criss knew art enough that he recognized the piece but didn't know the painter. When she put the cell to her ear he looked out across the water. It didn't take long for the sound of a voice to come softly from the cell.

He didn't listen to it, it wasn't loud enough to hear and it wasn't his business to hear. His hand absently scratched Obezyanka's head as he continued to stare out across the water. He saw a bird dive down under the blackness and come back up with a fish in it's mouth. He half chuckled at that.

For a moment he glanced to Lori but didn't say anything as he once more let his gaze fall back to the water. It was peaceful here, already he knew he'd have to bring Lamia up here she'd like it for sure. When Lori spoke, still it wasn't to him but to her dog. He smiled lightly, dogs were great listeners. Criss cast a glance to his dog but didn't speak again until she seemed to remember he was there. He nodded in agreement. As she went on he nodded again then replied. "You're right I'm not far from those years. I have a younger sister, she's sixteen, so I understand well enough." Though his sister wasn't 'typical' being blind or really into boys and had few friends. But still he understood the need teens had, just as he had, to be away from family sometimes.

Criss glanced to his watch, hanging upside down, on his wrist. He blinked lightly at the time. Lamia hadn't text him yet, that was odd but not totally worrisome. She just likely was asleep. He'd text her when he was on the way home. "Yea, probably the light like this seems it'd be hard to paint." He said clearly not knowing that it was the opposite. He took a step or two bag giving her room to gather her things. "It was nothing really, but you're more than welcome." Criss replied politely in his heavy accented voice. "If you ever need help with something like that again, you can find me on the grounds. Either in my class or on the walks." He offered lightly, simply out politeness. Just then Obezyanka nudge Criss' leg. Criss looked this dog whispering 'wait' in Russian. Obezyanka sat there quietly again as Criss glanced back to Lori. "You have a good nite, an good luck with the teenager and your painting." He added as he pat his leg lightly, Obezyanka stood then looking rather egar to go, or for him, to be moving again. The hyper dog didn't like just sitting still.

.... 

Word Count : 800
OCC : No worries. I have three essays to do, "Two of which almost finished! Yea me!" Plus finals breathing down my neck. I'm dog tired at the moment. Summer will never get her soon enough.

An' nothing wrong with rekindled old childhood favorites. ^^ I'm still a fan of 'Hank the Cowdog'. An your post is not "poopyness" it made me laugh.

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