COLLISION IS SUCH AN UGLY SOUND.

[jasper devine]

i have a ringing in my head,

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AND NO ONE TO HELP ME ANSWER IT.[/size]
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Oh, mornings... dreadful mornings. The loud, buzzing drone of his alarm clock alerted Jasper that the sun was up and he, too, needed to pull back the blankets and prepare for a new day. However, such a task was much easier said than done, especially for an insomniac like Mr. Devine. Just when he was starting to drift off into a sweet slumber, off goes his alarm, ripping him violently out of any rest he may have just been beginning to receive. Not only that, but everyday, without fail, his "little angel," Emelia, would come bouncing into his bedroom, eager to pull her father out of bed and insist that he wake up. Today was no different from any other day: almost immediately after the siren in his room began to ring, the peppy and energetic child would come rushing in, jumping on the bed and tugging at the covers, yelling for her dad to stop being so lazy and get up. Jasper, of course, would do his best to fight her off, burying his head in his make-up smeared pillow, groaning about how it was far too early to even think about being awake. Honestly, he didn't understand how Emma did it, how she could possibly get up everyday at six in the morning, let alone be happy and joyful doing it. Somehow, she managed, and did her best to try to get her father to do the same. Needless to say, the young child had yet to be successful in her quest.

After approximately fifteen minutes, Jasper would finally give in. It was absolutely impossible for him, being the pushover that he was, to ever deny her something she wanted. So, he would stagger out of bed at her command, only to collapse back onto the couch for a few hours while eating cereal, watching early morning cartoons with Emelia, and waiting for the ringing in his head due to lack of sleep to dissipate. Sooner or later, they'd both more officially begin their day with a shower, and a change of clothes, but neither were known to rush this. Well, Jasper wasn't, anyway... especially on the weekends. It was a grueling and extremely exhausting routine for him to go through, but seeing his daughter's smiling face made it all worth it... along with his almost daily trip to Starbucks, of course.

Ever since he could remember, Starbucks had been like a heaven for Jasper. Their addictive coffee, lattes, and steamers had him hooked, even with their high, demanding prices. In fact, his need for their creamy drinks had gotten so bad, that Jasper could hardly function without having at least one cup of Starbucks coffee every morning. Thus was why he found himself taking the short trip from his apartment to the small, yet wonderful coffee shop each morning, his little girl at his side. Over the past few years, Jasper had become a regular there, to the point where he was pretty well known by most of the staff and employees. It was sad and highly pathetic to be so slavish to such a silly addiction, this he knew, but he couldn't give it up now. Luckily, though, it was much better than his obsessive smoking or drinking habits, that was for sure. What was a little addiction to caffeine going to hurt in addition? Quite a few horrible solutions to such a question floated almost instantly into Jasper's head, though he quickly pushed them away with a harsh shake of his head. So he liked a little coffee in the morning... what good, hearty adult didn't these days?

With these silly, somewhat pitiful justification in mind, Jasper moved swiftly down the sidewalk, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other clasped tightly with the hand of Emelia, who was excellently keeping up with the hurried pace her father had taken, her strides matching his almost perfectly. Wearing only a somewhat large, black hoodie, white jeans, and sneakers, he probably looked more like a drug dealer or pedophile than a sweet, twenty-two year old father, but, luckily, he didn't have to worry about a whole lot of people judging, or gawking awkwardly at his somewhat strange appearance. That was one good thing about living in the middle of nowhere: there weren't a whole lot of people meandering around, thus making it less likely for Jasper to run into someone, or lose track of his daughter in some large crowd.

It didn't take them long to reach their destination, even on foot. Luckily, Jasper chose to live in an apartment that was in close proximity to his university, as well as the rest of the "city" of Kansas, thus reducing the need to use his car often. Good thing, too, because there was no way he'd be able to survive the gas prices, especially if he wanted to keep up with all his usual trips to Starbucks. The two stepped into the tiny shop, relieved to find there wasn't much of a line. Well, more so Jasper than Emma, considering he had a hard time being patient when it came to getting his caffeine fixes. Immediately upon their arrival, the father-daughter pair jumped into the short yet slow moving line, Jasper's heel beginning to tap widely upon the tiled floor the minute they stopped moving. God, did he hate waiting. It took him quite a while to fully snap into action in the morning, but once he did, he often found it hard to stop.

Finally, they reached the counter, where Jasper ordered a Grande Almond Steamer for himself (though it sounded more like something you'd pay for on a porn site than a drink), along with a hot chocolate for his daughter. Almost shaking in anxiety, he paid the young woman at the register and frantically took a large sip of his drink... well, large enough that he didn't burn himself, anyway. Once he handed the cup of hot chocolate to Emma, the two headed off in search of a table. Though, Jasper had become so wrapped up in the excitement of his lovely almond steamer that he almost ran right into someone in the process. Whoops.

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( '' OPEN! )

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( OOC I'm sorry, the ended to this is downright horrible, but I'm at a loss for something clever and I really wanted to get this finished before I went to bed. )[/center]

[dylan marie rowle]

Outfit

Sleep. Who needed it? Well, Dylan was a strong believer that she rarely needed sleep. After all, it was a waste of time when there was so much else she could be doing while she was sleeping. What was the main thing she wanted to do? Well, that was rather simple, play guitar. Her fingers always itched to have the steel strings dig into them, the callouses always begging to not grow weak by not playing guitar for a long period of time. Yes, Dylan needed her guitar, in fact, she would probably die if she didn't get to play it for a long time. Well, if she got to a piano, she would be fine. She just needed music. It had saved her life many a time, and one time quite literally. Music was her life, and soon it was going to be how she lived. That was the point in studying it after all.

Dylan ended up playing chords and notes and songs all night, sometimes singing along, though by the time dawn was approaching, her voice was too hoarse to sing anymore. Dylan was in one of her moods where she refused to put the guitar down for even a second, even to eat. Nothing could tear her away from her guitar. It was like it was attached to her, and Dylan liked it that way. If it were up to her, a guitar probably would be glued to her. That wouldn't be the smartest thing in the world to do though, so she refrained from gluing a guitar to herself, not that her mother and brother wouldn't believe she would do something that insane. Dylan was pretty out there and would do anything to play her music whether it be the guitar or the piano.

As much as Dylan thought she could stay up forever without sleeping, she was obviously wrong. She had gotten over the high of playing her guitar, and now she was starting to get sleepy, just as the sun rose and the light shone in through a window. Well, she definitely wouldn't be able to sleep now, so she figured going to one of the best places in the world, Starbucks, would be absolutely the right decision. Starbucks was so tempting, and the caffeine would be great. She decided it was the best choice she had at the moment, and put her guitar down in it's stand. Yes, the first time she had put it down all night. She looked down at her clothes and figured they would be OK to wear to a Starbucks.

She went into the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth simply because that would make her presentable, before placing her glasses back on her nose. She didn't have the patience to bother with contacts this morning. She left her curly hair down, though she did pin her bangs back since there was no point in straightening them. After all, she was just going to a Starbucks. She didn't bother with any makeup either before she was ready to leave. Pointless things like that she didn't need for a walk to a Starbucks a few blocks down and a coffee. No, it was pointless to bother with all that when she was in such desperate need of a coffee. She grabbed her wallet and cell phone before heading out the door.

She walked down the street, looking more like a disaster than anything close to being well put together, though she didn't much mind. She was wearing her black sweat pants that had a keyboard on the side of them, the bottoms scrunched up to her calves showing her music note tattoo on the inside of her left ankle, a red tank top covering her torso. She had on her old, red Keds. She wore them a bunch, so they had rips in the canvas and were tattered and dirty. She didn't much mind since they were shoes and shoes were meant to be worn down. Most of her shoes were worn to a pulp just because she didn't like getting new shoes. When shoes were worn down, they were more comfy.

She opened the door to the Starbucks, the aroma of coffee filling her nostrils. The scent almost woke her up completely, but she still wanted her own coffee. She was deciding between a frappucino and an espresso when it was her turn at the cash register. She walked to the counter, still unsure so just let her brain decide quickly and tell the lady a response. "A grande caffe mocha, please," she smiled at the girl behind the counter. She handed the girl the money in exchange for her drink and smiled as she felt the warm cup warm her hands up. She took a sip of it, enjoying the taste of the drink against her tongue, the warmness against her throat. The perfect way to assure she was in fact awake and alive this morning.

As she started to wander the area for a place to sit, she pretty much ran into a person. There goes the klutz, at it again. Luckily, her drink didn't spill. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said to him. The boy looked familiar. "Hm, do you go to Kansas City University?" she asked him. Hopefully he did and she wasn't completely stupid and had mixed him up with someone else. She noticed the little girl with him. Dylan smiled sweetly at the child. She was adorable. Dylan had always had a soft spot for children. They were usually defenseless and cute. She never got how some people could hate them. There was absolutely nothing to hate about little children. Dylan hoped to one day have some kids of her own, but one could never be too sure.

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