``seven devils,

[bridget adele morra]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; height: 300px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 1px dashed #000; border-right: 30px solid #000;] ----BRIDGET was a simple girl of simple tastes. She never needed to be entertained like other children, often one could leave her to her own devices and she’d find something that tickled her fancy. Most of the time that entailed babbling with strangers, in that sense Bridget had never really grown up – companionship to her wasn’t something necessary but preferred. After all if she thought of an amazing joke and no one was around to hear it – well it would be a great shame and if someone else had thought of an amazing joke or story she wanted to hear it. Possibly that was greedy, but she’d rather be greedy and laughing that selfless and miserable. More often than not she found companionship at Valkyrie park. Today, was rather a slow day for the park it seemed she kicked an imaginary pebble as her eager green eyes scanned the park for someone to bombard. Unfortunately, there were just people rushing off to their previous engagements. Bridget skipped over to a bench and happily sat upon it pulling her legs up to sit Indian style, she placed her coffee and purse beside her. There was more than one reason Bridget held the nickname Bunny to this day, one: her buck teeth and tendency to twitch her nose and two: her energy, whether she was actually jumping off the walls or just talking miles a minute about the show Firefly she never seemed to lack energy. Her mother always told her, her spirit animal must be a rabbit – she believed in all that holistic spiritual stuff and often bombarded her children with it to the point that both of them rejected it violently. Plus she seemed to “Feng shui” their house every few days, which only every seemed to result in Bridget’s shins being covered in bruises from bumping into things that weren’t there before. Bridget could never really tell if the old men in the park enjoyed her company or would rather be reading their newspapers, but she couldn’t help but speak to them regardless. Someone was bound to show up and besides it wasn’t as if she couldn’t be on her own, she didn’t need to speak to people, she just simply enjoyed people. Furthermore she had a rather gripping game of Tetris to return to, she turned back to her purse and rifling through it retrieved her cell phone. Taking a sip of her coffee drink she turned on her phone, she had a text message from her mother asking her to pick up milk for her. Placing her drink back in its rightful place on the bench she quickly navigated to her game. As the game fired up she muted it quickly as to not disturb the… pigeons. Yes, pigeons had ears too… well she wasn’t quite sure if they did, but in the off chance that someone would ask that would be her excuse. It was a silly thought to think she needed on, no one asked why people had games on mute – except her. She often asked off the wall questions though, anyone who knew her would know that. No one had ever told her it was annoying, but as she thought about it, it probably was and everyone was just too nice to say anything about it. She’d have to apologize next time she saw someone she’d asked a stupid question to – like Sol, the man she often saw in the park, she asked him once if insects had genders, though she really wanted to know he took it as a joke, laughed and patted her on the head before going off to catch his bus. Perhaps it was a silly question, but to be honest she still wanted to know. Normal people would just google it, but often times she forgot something she wanted to know until she saw something that reminded her of it again. Looking up from her game to see if prospects had improved she allowed her eyes to scan the park once more and after deciding they hadn’t she returned her attention to the small screen only to see she’d missed several falling blocks in her absence “ bollocks” she muttered defeated as the last block fell ending her game. TAGGED open | WEARING click | NOTES - - - -

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[kale kennedy barker]

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' ' In the good ol' summer time, right? Despite that his dear friend/ future wife (even if she denies it) Widow was acting like an even crazier bitch than she usually was, he was having a grand ol' time this summer so far. It began, of course, with his very successful job for the Italian Mafia, bustin' up the restaurant. It was beautiful, if you weren't there, you should have been. Thing was Kale's mind did not work in the same terms as other human beings. He saw it as partially what made him so charming and you know what? He may have a point. He didn't really have to act like some one straight laced and in a suit. He didn't have lie about anything. Granted he might not tell give them the full details of his work but that was about legal issues. Sometimes he would tell a girl flat out and they would just assume he was being cute and joking with them. Which was their prerogative. All of Kale's life had been a mixture of normal and insane so it's no wonder he tends to be boarder line when it comes to sanity. Kale was one of those sorts of people. He had basically been through so much pain that he forgot how to feel it. Or at least, that's what it seemed like. No one knew about Kale's past. Except for Kale. Not even Donny and Kale knew Donny's biggest secret about being Heyward. But no, Donny still didn't even know Kale's real name. All people really, truly knew about Kale Barker, or technically, the boy who called himself Kale Barker for the moment was that he was from somewhere in the UK and liked to watch things go boom. He was an interesting guy and that's all people really needed to know right? The truth was that the guy was a son of a cop believe it or not. That's right, his father was in law enforcement. Guess Kale wasn't exactly what his father had in mind for a son right? But none of that mattered. At the end of the day, with all the bad things someone could say against Kale's character, he was a good friend to those he cared about. Donny knew Kale had his back.

But no, Kale was not in the right of mind. For one thing, he was a genius. No kidding, a flat out genius. Not in all subjects but his IQ was off the charts and chemistry was the young British man's key subject. Makes sense seeing as he makes bombs and other pyro-based weapons for a living. He could ramble off reactions and equations by the second without thinking about it. Chemistry was like breathing to him. I can guarantee that if Kale had not ended up on the wrong side of the law, he would be working for some type of government for their biochemical weaponry and working a bunch of secret government projects that would inevitably end up with some super death virus being released and the planet being wiped out in a matter of months, like what happened in the Stand. So really, with his nature being the way it was, the world should be thanking him for taking up his work as the Basher.

It was strange. Despite Kale's obsession with thinking he was in love with just about every female on the planet who was age appropriate, in actuality, he hardly cared about anyone. Donny was his mate and he was a good friend to him but apart from that? Kale did not care much about anyone. He didn't care about Widow like Donny did, both Don and Wid were fiercely caring to the few people who got in. Kale did not care about Liz or Wid much, not really. And he definitely didn't give a damn about Orion. He would probably give his life to save anything of them, but that was more because he did not care much about his own life. If he was approached tomorrow and told that his chemicals spilled and the siren house blew up killing Liz, Widow, Orion and Donny, Kale really wouldn't feel much guilt at all. He would would pay some respects to the loss of Donny, might feel a bit sad for his friend, say it was a shame two women like Widow and Liz were lost, and then move on with his life. He was not the type to be torn apart by a loss, not since his sister's life was taken from him. His sister's death had drained all of his guilt from him, he was out of that emotion and it would be highly unlikely for him to ever acquire it again in anything but very small nonchalant doses. He had spent too much time blaming himself for not being able to protect her when they were kids and their father killed her. He was just finished with caring.

Apart from not actually caring, Kale came across as one of the friendliest people on the planet. He was rarely not smiling, he was always flirting and joking around. Sometimes he would make comments that confused people, especially those who didn't know him. I mean, you have to understand, Kale is the type of guy that spends the average day playing with dangerous chemicals, his safety goggles on the top of his head instead of covering his eyes, no gloves, usually only a tank if any shirt, mostly shirtless and in boxers with mx matched socks and a cigarette hanging from his lips. The British man really had no regard for his own life. But it was better for his job. Speaking of which, his job was why he was in the park. He had just met with a member of the Jewish Mafia, got commissioned to make them a bomb that would knock out all electro-magnetic technology, but not knock out the electricity... He already had a working design for the baby, just needed the materials to make it. He nodded a bye to the man who had just handed him 4 grand cash and turned around pocketing the money. As he made his way towards the street, he passed a bench and heard a West Midlands accent. One of his own country women, all the way here. He turned on his heel smiled seeing the excessively pretty girl sitting on the bench. Kale was born in Manchester but raised in the worker's class in the east end of london, so his accent was very cockney heavy. Kale plopped himself on the bench next to her, "West Midlands, eh? What brings a charmin' bird such as youself across da pond?"

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[bridget adele morra]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; height: 300px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 1px dashed #000; border-right: 30px solid #000;] ---- THERE were times when Bridget could be called naïve – the girl with the rose colored glasses. She had always believed that people were generally innately good. How she managed to maintain such a ridiculous belief escaped most people, some would inquire how she could believe that with all the horrible things they broadcast of the news… well, she didn’t watch the news, nor did she follow many wars even if she was quite the fan of medieval times along with the forties and sixties, all of which wars were very prevalent subjects. She enjoyed hearing about wars regardless and yet still, she didn’t see them as any proof of mankind’s malice. Generally people were surprised when they found out she had any ties to the Italian mafia. Course people didn’t find out about that much outside the crime world, but regardless, she never really seemed to fit. Furthermore when they found out she was a burlesque dancer many of them laughed, thinking she was joking as Bridget didn’t hold the level of sensuality one attributes to a burlesque dancer. Maybe she was ill fitted to her job, she didn’t hate it, but she preferred the waitressing more. She still got looked at like an object, but she got to interact with people a lot more, rather than just having all eyes on her. She never felt unsafe in her job though, even being oogled all day she had no doubt that Maggie and the Bouncers would never let anything bad happen to her. It was more a mental distress on her if anything, but Bridget didn’t think much of herself regardless, she’d had plenty of boyfriends to tell her she was just a place to store their “little army men”. Being an object was nothing new, even though she loved her mother dearly she remembered her constantly threatening Rod with never getting to see Bridget ever again or her sister Lucy. It was her prime weapon in a fight as he always caved when faced with it. Rod in Bridget’s mind was the only man in the world who could fathom treating her kindly, simply because he was an exceptional man. She knew she didn’t deserve that. Bridget jumped as her attention was drawn from her game to the man now sitting next to her. A big smile spread across her face, it was a rare occurrence for her not to be the first to strike up a conversation. “very good sir, I moved to the US… gosh eighteen years ago when my mum married” she said with a laugh and a nod. “East Londoner?” she inquired with a grin, she may not have stuck around in the UK long enough to get regional accents down, but east end Londoners had a very distinct brogue. Now that she thought of it she did wish she could have spent more time in her homeland, she was never unhappy with her surrounding only the looming presence of her father over their family. Though, Bridget would wager a guess that he was most likely dead now, so revisiting Brittan or Ireland was no longer off limits. The only reason she’d kept her west land accent was by visiting her gran and granddad every summer until they both died two years ago. In the presence of another stranger she didn’t have to think about the sad connotations of being reminded of home held. She quickly closed out her game an tossed her phone into her purse again “and how ‘bout you? What brings you all the way across the pond?” she turned her complete attention to him, it would be rude to give him anything less. Bridget was never one for rudeness; in fact she actively avoided it like the plague. In her mind, with as much as she truly like talking to people she wouldn’t want to give them the impression she’d rather be doing something else. Too many people in the world did that already without her being another one of them. Instead she had an uncanny ability to make people think that every person she talks to in an old long lost friend. The only thing that often slipped the brunette’s mind was to introduce herself, but considering that most everyone else in the world tended to remember she felt it wasn’t something she necessarily needed to fix pronto. Maybe she was a procrastinator. Possibly she could add that to her list of bad traits, only she was only a procrastinator in some ways, only on this particular subject from what she’d observed, could she still be classified as a procrastinator? Possibly she should stamp out that weed and introduce herself, yes she would “I’m Bunny – Bridget I mean” she corrected quickly. Perhaps her penchant for accidentally introducing herself by her loathed nickname had been what prevented her from introducing herself in the past. She knew that her family and friends used it lovingly and she was beginning to simply accept it, but it wasn’t something she wanted to give to a stranger to call her, even if she may never see them again. TAGGED open | WEARING click | NOTES - - - -

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[kale kennedy barker]

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' ' People always seemed to try and psychoanalyze his obsession with the kaboom. They would pretend they knew his past, which no one did, and act like that was why. No. Sorry. Kale knew his background and a million kids grew up in a similar way and weren't nearly as care free and charming as he was, or as a more sane person would put it careless and dangerous. Kale would never use safety precautions because he didn't care if he died in the process. He really didn't care. And if he did, he wouldn't be as good at his job as he was. He wouldn't be the "Basher." If he hadn't gone the illegal way, I can assure you, Kale would have been working for the military making new weapons, or perhaps a firework maker. Something in pyro-technics. There was something about seeing something as small as a spark cause a chain reaction of such powerful destruction. It was addicting and intoxicating. The truth was, Kale came from the classic broken home, run away mom, abusive dad who happened to be a cop. Millions of people grow up like that and don't become what Kale became. So Kale would never blame his history for who he was. No, it would not make sense. He blamed genetics, or rather, he thanked genetics. He probably had some chemical imbalances going on up in his head that made who he was a possibility. He thanked genetics for his naturally high intelligence when it came to a chemistry set. Because those things, they made him Kale.

And despite the fact he did not care too much about anyone, including his own safety, he liked who he was. I know that sounds strange, that someone can truly like who they are but not care if they live or die but it was true. I mean, maybe there was something going on with self hate in his subconscious mind but his conscious mind thought he was a blast. He saw himself as smart, funny, charming and yeah a bit off his rocker. It's what made him unique and lovable, right? It's also one of the reasons it was hard for people to be mad at him. His ex-fiance she had a hard time staying made at him when he really didn't understand when he did something bad. He had a hard time grasping how actions hurt people because he doesn't think or feel that way. Donny, who is one of the few people who truly understand Kale actually thinks he might have a form of high functioning autism. Kale, granted, did not know too much about autism but for some reason he just didn't think that was it. Might explain the lack of knowledge on social norms and proprieties though. Hmm... Maybe he should look into it... then again, even if he was he would never go to therapy for it, or take any medicine. He would probably break the meds down into their chemical components and store them under his bed to be used at a future date in an experiment.

Kale grinned as the pretty girl smiled at him and confirmed his assumption of her place of origin. “very good sir, I moved to the US… gosh eighteen years ago when my mum married. East Londoner?” Kale turned on the bench to face her a bit more directly instead of turning his head to look at her. "At yor service and wit' pride." He replied, tilting his head a bit as if to bow. "At least I wos fer da first few years, moved up norf fer most of me life." He added. Girl was lucky, probably the most he had ever told anyone about where he grew up. Most people just said British, other's were spot on enough to know London but he never explained where he was from, just as he never explained to anyone his real name, or his family. “and how ‘bout you? What brings you all the way across the pond?” Kale smiled and her and shrugged. " My work keeps me travelling, followed a friend 'ere. I like it tho'" He replied, not telling her a single lie. Kale lied when he had too, but over all he avoided it. He kept his smile as she said her name, although surprisingly, his mind did want to turn the corners of his lips downward as she said her name. The nickname was cute but she corrected herself so she obviously preferred her real name. Bridget. His sister's name had been Bridgette. "My sister's name wos Bridgette" He said blankly, a rare tone in Kale's voice as he repeated his thought outloud. He was never ver good with censoring himself.

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[bridget adele morra]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; height: 300px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 1px dashed #000; border-right: 30px solid #000;] ----SMILES weren’t something people often had to coax out of Bunny; she was and had always been a generally lighthearted, bubbly personality. Her mother always said she couldn’t possibly hold back those bucky teeth for long and that’s why she smiled so frequently. Another joke she didn’t ever find very funny. Bunny was happiest around people, though still needed sufficient alone time – she’d always been a living breathing oxymoron of sorts. Constantly contradicting herself, the only aspect of her personality that never seemed to have a contradiction was her recklessness, most people looked at the things she did as horribly dangerous. Diving into the ocean in the middle of winter seemed unadvisable to most, but it was a perfectly refreshing activity for her – no matter how many times she got hypothermia. If Bunny was more careful, she may not be as joyful, she just did things that came to her mind, she never over thought anything, if it seemed like fun she’d do it; no questions asked. She had no reason to be sad in her mind, she had a fine childhood and people were never horrible to her, even if her appearance didn’t seem to fit most people’s idea of beauty, he personality won most people over in no time at all. It seemed with all the grouches in the world; a chipper brit was just what the doctor ordered. Her personal role in life was to make people smile and since she didn’t have all those hang ups about strangers like most people she was able to spread her joy to as many faces as possible. Her smile grew so large one might think it would crack her face “How exciting!” she said happily and then bit her bottom lip “what’s that like? I’ve never been to north London, most of my family comes from the central London area” she said with a small nod, she remembered all the snobby country clubs her Granddad brought her to, to golf “G ran always said you can venture out or the liberals will get you” she joked with a giggle resting her elbow on the back of the bench. She wasn’t sure how well informed her Gran was about other parts of London or even England for that matter. She’d never strayed from her hometown. “do you enjoy traveling?” she asked with a wide eyed interest [ b]“I’ve always wished I could travel more, but it is nice here”

[/b] she said smoothing the hem of her skirt. “There’s just something so glamorous about traveling around the world seeing new cultures and new people all the time” she concluded. Bunny always thought about the billions of people she may never get to speak to and it made her a bit sad, she wanted to experience as much as she possibly could in her life. Being a girl so intent on bringing smiles to faces she often noticed things that others wouldn’t, subtle changes in tone or expression, though she was pretty sure anyone would be able to tell something had changed in Kale’s tone, on top of that he used “was” not “is” and that was something she just could not miss. “You can call me Bunny, everyone does” she rushed said trying to make the situation better “I’d venture to say it’s probably even on my driver’s license” she joked. Then with a massive and sudden chance of subject she asked “say, do all bird mate falling from the sky or is it just birds of prey?” she looked at him quizzically. Some may think she was vapid, but she was just trying to cheer him up again.
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TAGGED open | WEARING click | NOTES - - - -

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[kale kennedy barker]

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' ' His sister Bridget was probably the main reason Kale lost a bit of his sanity. Kale had already been a rebellious kid. His father was abusive and his mother didn't seem to give a damn. Eventually she did leave though, ran out on them. Bridget, had the worst of it. She was twelve with a drunk abusive and now lonely father. Kale always tried to help her but was never able to. When he was fifteen, he decided he didn't really need schooling. Kale couldn't think straight most of the time anyways. It wasn't that he was stupid, he just didn't care about much. he read a lot. A lot about weaponry, bombs, fires, volcanos, chemistry of all of it, anything that went bang in the night. It fascinated him. He started acting out in bigger ways, he rarely came home at night, slept on the street a lot. One night, while with his friends they drunkenly set his dad's old truck on fire. Watching that baby burn was one of the best moments of his life. It was warm it was exciting, It was living. He hardly cared when he received the beating of his life for it, in fact, oddly enough, Kale kind of enjoyed it. Not in a perved way, but more a prideful way. Each he hit him, it became to him, just like evidence that kale had caused caused his father some type of displeasure. It was like the harder he hit him, the better he felt because that meant, the more he pissed him off. Spent a month in big boy prison for that one.

After Kale got out, his dad just lost it when he saw Kale's face in the house again. He began to attack him. Bridgette, she was fourteen at the time, she tried to get their father off of him, she was scared he was going to kill him. But instead, their dad pushed her away and threw her down the stairs where she cracked her head on the stone floor. She died. Kale ran to her side, dad just stood there, looking at what he had done for a moment before he said to Kale, "what have you done, son?" He blamed Kale. As in he told the other police officers that kale had pushed her down. With his back history, they believed him, the bastards. Kale had had enough so.... he blew up the police station. to Kale there was nothing more beautiful. He didn't really do it to hurt anyone other than his dad. It was off hours, he heard later there was still someone inside and the blast had killed one cop in it. But Kale didn't really care to be honest, only thing he regretted was that the blow didn't get his bloody father. Bridget was the big failure in Kale's life

This new girl though, apart from the name similarity, she didn't seem anything like Bridget. His sister had been blonde and incredibly shy. She never wanted to talk to anyone, always seemed to try and fade into the background. This girl, was brunette obviously, sweet but she also seemed friendly and talkative. He laughed a bit as she spoke of her grandmother's warning. He was never too concerned with politics. "Well, unfortunately I wasn't in London fer da teen years, only da youngest years." He went to a small town after his first few years where his father had been transferred as a cop. "do you enjoy traveling?” Kale nodded, "Of cahrse, no uvver way ter live, love." He replied, his cockney accent, just as strong as always. "If ya want to travel, why 'aven't ya?" He asked. The thing about travelling for Kale though? He had no interest in the museums or history or site seeing. It was more about living life to the fullest for him. But honestly, he didn't even think of it that far. He just didn't really ever think about anything. He just did what he felt like, when he felt like it. If he wanted to leave, then he would leave. If he wanted to stay, he would stay. He was both a complicated guy and a incredibly simple man. He smiled as she told him to call her Bunny, that was so cute. He shook his head a bit as she asked about the birds. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Blimey...err.. seein' as not all birds fly I'd say not all."

((crappy sorry, tired))

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[bridget adele morra]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; height: 300px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 1px dashed #000; border-right: 30px solid #000;] ----BUNNY nodded thoughtfully “I always enjoyed my visits to London regardless of my Grans paranoid gripes” she only got to spend any real length of time in London when she was a kid herself, once her family moved to America they only got to go back once a year in the summer for a couple of days before her mother couldn’t bear to be around her parents anymore and whisked them off to their own hometown or Italy. Not that Bunny every minded going to Italy. She smiled as he told her travelling was the only way to live in his thick cockney brogue. It was something she hadn’t heard much of, she’d grown up around the posh privileged types, not the dock workers or “rift raft” as her Gran was so keen on calling anyone who was anywhere near the working class. Bridget’s Gran had only made an exception for her own daughter as it simply wasn’t her fault because the Irish were all tricksters with enchanting leprechaun dust and the Irishman who’d left her daughter with two children to raise on her own was no different. Yes, Bunny’s Gran was very likely mentally ill in some way. Frowning slightly as he asked her why she hadn’t gone after her dream of traveling, she shrugged before saying “Lucy and I used to talk- Lucy’s my sister” she clarified realizing the man in front of her was not privy to her life “we always said we’d go together, she was the planner of the two of us, but then she said we didn’t have the money and she got married and had a little tyke” she stopped for air letting out a sigh “I suppose I realized she was right and I don’t have any particular skill sets like those people who travel and work until they have enough money to move on” she said both sadden and excited by what she was talking about, she always wished she could learn to plow or work on cars so that she could do what she’d heard about. “I have a travel fund though, so I haven’t given up I have about a thousand dollars saved up” Bunny never thought that perhaps it wasn’t quite intelligent to run around saying you have a wad of cash saved up, but that was who she was – she simply couldn’t think that anyone would be horrible enough to steal her dream. Course even if she had thought of it she would have told him anyway, she thought he seemed like a nice young man. She nodded as he answer her question “like penguins!” she said excitedly, jumping a little as she did “I love penguins… they mate for life you know” she said happy to be able to give a morsal of information of her own, even if he did already happen to know. “did you know your shoes don’t match?” she inquired only just realizing it just then herself. Bunny would never be given the most observant award. In fact in school she was voted “most likely to walk into oncoming traffic unknowingly”. It wasn’t actually a category until everyone wrote it in, never the less, Bunny didn’t quite realize that it was a bit rude until years after. It was no wonder she came off stupid to some people, but she was actually intelligent, just not always in the way people judged intelligence. She had a naïve childlike wonder about her and to some people that was simply stupidity in and of its self. TAGGED open | WEARING click | NOTES so sorry this took so long

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