Paiva, quite intensely, looked for another rock to throw in the river. She found one with a flat side and threw it...hard. She had actually hurt herself. He wrist in particularly. She grabbed the wrist with her other hand and sat down. "Ugh! Why do these things always happen to me?" she asked herself. "Ah!"

Mismatched eyes watched her drop to the ground, complaining about her injury. The figure of a man stood behind her, leaning aginst a random solid tree. His hair was blond and spicked up and his left eye green and his right eye blue. He wore black leather pants, boots unlaced, and a tight black shirt tucked in. His leather trench hung calf length and a small smile was placed on his lips. He was new to the city and had somehow gotten lost.

"Perhapes your jinxed," he answered her retorical (sp?) question. "Or perhapes your simply accident pron."

Paiva, hearing someone else's voice, turned her head in his direction. "Accident prone? Don't think so. Just clumsy. Who are you? I'm Paiva." Her wrist, which still hurt, layed in her lap, untouched. Her dark green eyes shifted back towards it, aware of it again. "Ow. Maybe I should wrap this." she suggested to herself, but it probally sounded like she was talking to him.

He nodded his agreement to her words. "Maybe you should." He replied. He remained leaning aginst the tree in an unintended all-too-cool fashion. He stuffed his hands in his pockets so she wouldn't feel obligated to shake his hand in a ritual greeting of all man-kind. "My names Pierce Peterson." He replied. "Pleasure to meet you. Would you like help with your uh..." he held up his wrist.

"Sure, thanks, uh, Pierce." she said. She had finnally turned around completely, and now had a ood look at him. Whoa! He's hot! And he's already proven that he's nice too. At least I don't go weak in the knees or anything, cause I'd have more problems than my wrist right now. She stood up and took a step closer to him.

He nodded, pushed his shoulder off the tree and took two steps to end up infront of her, his boots, heavy as they were, made no sound in the soft mossy bank. He squated down, trench coat pooling on the ground behinde him. "Got an ace bandage or anything to wrap it in?" He asked her.

She looked at herself, she definately didn't have anything to wrap it in. "No, it doesn't appear so," she said as she became aware of how close she was to him now. Okay, I don't even know this guy. Nothing like that'll happen. He's cute and nice, but I still don't know him...I can deal with this. "No, I don't have anything to wrap it in."

He noded. "Alright. Do you live close to here? Or, should I say do you have an ace bandage at your house?" He asked her, he took her hand in one of his hands and her arm, just above where she'd hurt herself, in the other hand and pulled it off her lap. He slowly, carefully bent it downward. "Where's it hurt?" His hands moved softly, like dealing with a child's injury, which he did just about every week with his own danger pron child...up until recently.

"Uh, I live right up the hill and on just a little further.," she told him, "I usually keep a first-aid kit there, just in case of something happening." His hands were soft. She looked up when his hands bent he wrist downwards. "That hurt a little, but it's worse around here." She put her hand over the lower part of her fore-arm.

He nodded at her explanation of where her house was, then nodded again when she showed him where she'd hurt herself. "Mm hum." was all he said. Then he pushed her hand off her arm and bent it slowly, carefully upward. "How about that?" He asked, applying just a little pressure on the spot she'd pointed to with his other hand. In truth that should releave the pain...that is, if it were fractured. If not then it was definatly broke.

"Yeah, that hurt," she said, looking back down at it. How do these things always happen to me? Well, at least I caught his attention. It's nothing to big but... Suddenly it hit her square in the face, What the heck am I doing?! I'm letting someone help me! I don't really need anyone's help! True, true, but you don't want to lose his attention, do you? Well, no, I don't, but that doesn't mean I need his help. Plus, I've only just met him, and I'm treating him nice?! This may not make sense to you right now, but I think you really may like him, and you can't stand that! That's not how it is at all, I've just...I've just not taken a liking to him and I don't care what you think! Fine. You don't like him. You're just being nice for no reason. I'll leave you two alone together now... Go screw yourself! "Uh, thanks," she said, lookin bcak up at him.

He grunted slightly, his blue and green eyes no longer filled with concentration of identifying the painfull areas, "broken." He mumbled, more to himself then to her. Then he rose his voice for her to hear better. "I'm afrade it's broken." He told her, the way a doctor...or a father...would. He frowned. "Thanks for what?" he asked her, raising to his feet and pulling her carefully to her own feet by her unhurt arm, with that same soft fatherly touch.

"You ought to get it wrapped up," he suggested, "and have someone set it properly." He seemed like he knew what he was talking about, after all, dagger was constantly scraping or breaking something and he always ended up fixing it some way or another.

"Oh, thanks for helping me," she said. She could feel herself blushing, even though she wasn't trying to look like she liked him. She started up the hill, and turned back to him, "I'm going onto the hospital to get this checked out. So, if you want to come, you are welcome." She started the accent up the hill, holding onto her wrist.

He nodded and turned to follow her accent of the hill. Once he was caught up and walked next to her he closed his mismatched eyes and chuckled. "This will sound pitiful," he warned, "but I'm completely lost. I haven't got a clue where I am, I'm new to the city." He felt like an idiot but even though he did, it did not show in his face.

Paiva laughed with him, "That's okay, I know where mostly everything is." See! I told you you liked him! So what if I do?! I just wanted you to admit it, see? I knew that you would, evantually releize that you CAN'T be mean to everyone. That there was someone you could be nice too. Heh, you suck. "Thanks again. For helping me."

He gave her a dismissive wave of the hand and a side glance. "Nah. Don't worry about it. Anything to be of help." He replied. "Good. Perhapes when you've gotten this all checked out you could point me in my direction and I'll be on my way." He smiled.

((Sorry so short...very busy right now.))

Paiva smiled back at him. "Sounds like a good plan to me," she said. She felt extremely grateful for his helping her. When she had gone to the banks, she didn't think she was going to make any friends or anything. She just hadn't yet seen it and wanted to blow off steam. Then she hurt her wrist, which lead her to meat Pierce.

She was really happy at the time. And, to make her even happier, she wasn't nagging herself over being nice to someone. It felt good to be getting along with someone, for once. She felt so happy, the top of her had to be overflowing.

He nodded, "Great." he replied. "So how far is the hospital from here?" He asked her. He felt need, mostly being the overly cautous creature that he was, to get to know her before revealing too much about himself. "How long have you lived in the city for?" He asked, yet another question.

His left hand absently went to the end of one of the short (which his hair had been long and messy two hours before he'd come across her) inch tall nail spikes and twisted the point between two fingers. His hair was a light blonde that looked as if it'd been bleached.

"Oh, the hospital ain't to far. It'd be closer if I drove a car. But, of course, I'm lame and don't have one." She was laughing, almost giggleing, at herself. she stopped the instant she noticed it, though, leaving a silence. she soon broke it though. "Hm? Me, I've lived here since I can remember. It's never been much else for me. Just me. Hanging out here." She looked sideways at him, her eyes catching the sun.

He nodded and pushed his hands into the pockets of his long leather trench. It was a dressy style, like one you would wear with a suit and tie to a formal event, but it was his favorite and so it became casual wear to him. "Just you eh? No family?" He asked her, "no parents or siblings or roommates." He chuckled. "It's been a while since I've lived alone." He said as if recalling something. He smiled. "At least now I have something worth staying alive for huh?" He said this in an almost cheerful way. Yes, like all 'goths' he's had his little 'suicide phase'-an unsuccesful one but a phase never the less.

"Well, I talk to them every now and then, but..." She thought to herself about how her parents were so happy when she'd gone ahead and moved out on her own. "...I don't really need them." It was her 'family' that had made her so cold to most people. She never really cared to be talking to anyone, just being alone, which explained having no roommate. "I fare well on my own, you know. I have all the help I need right here," she said referring to herself. "But, I supose I like it that you're helping me."

He nodded his understanding. "Understandable. It's always nice, no matter how lonely you want to be, to have someone to help out, or confide in." He smiled to himself. "Take myself for example," he put a hand to his chest in a dramatic fashion and smiled, then slid his hand back into his pocket. "I was a bitter, mean child until my confidence came along. I rely on dagger as much as he in me. And even then," his voice took on an angry note, "I have to fight every day to keep him around." He shook his head solemly.

...

"I used to have a friend like that, but I haven't seen her in awhile. She was always happy and perky, so much unlike me. But, somehow, we always got along real easy, talked about things. Her name's Melanie. I was told she moved here, but I haven't seen her. It doesn't really matter to me, though." she said. I probally sound really stupid, telling him everything about Melanie. Stupid little brat. I don't think she ever really liked me anyway. No, she was always way to happy to be a real friend of mine. "I don't want to seem as stoopy, but, who's Dagger?" she asked, not trying to stir anything up.

He smiled, almost too proudly, at her question about Dagger. His eyes, both blue and green, sparkled in an amused manner. "He is my son." He replied, voice swollen with a pride that only a father could have. He looked at her. "He's four years old last week." He went on. Often he did not speak so much with words as with a body language that only he possessed, but on this particular subject he continued to speak, almost babbling on about his child. "He was unfortunatly blessed (that being said sarcastically) with my lovely freakish eyes. He has his mothers smile though," the latest was added with a bit of a tone that sounded much like annoyance.

"He sounds like a wonderful boy, but..." she thought before asking, "What's wrong with his mother?" she asked, once again, not being stoopy, just pondering. Aha! Usually, you'd just force it out of someone, but you've found a soft spot. Yeah, who cares? You? This is about as much business as it is Queen Elizabeth's, so butt out of it. Oh, you can't be serious, you love me to much. Oh do go away.

He smiled weakly, "yes he is a wanderful child." His face was sorrowful and his eyes reverted to the ground. He had half a mind to pretend he hadn't heared her question but decided to answer anyways.

"She does not want my son." he replied. "She got pregnat, stuck around for about a week, then told me to screw myself and take care of my mistake. We'd never gotten along. We broke up, then five months later she said she was pregnat." His voice was angry. "She tries to take him every weekend not because she loves him but because she hates me. I have suspicion that she beats my son." he added with a low grumble.

Paiva just looked at him. She would've never thought anything of the sort from someone with such a strong appearence, but never look at a book and say you read it. She bit her bottom lip. From her point of view, she had said something wrong. She looked at him, and tryed to figure him out. She didn't though, and just ended up looking at him. "I-I'm sorry I asked," she said, her voice shaky. She still thought she had spoken out of line.

"Ah," he shook his head at her apology. "Don't be. You asked a reasonable question and so you deserve a truthful answer." He smiled weakly. "It needs to be let out so often." He replied. "Here," he held out his hand. "Let me see your wrist now, I want to check it." He said softly.

She showed him her wrist. It was still a little painful, but not so bad. "So, I suppose you want to know something of me now? Ask anything, I don't have anything that needs hiden." She was startled again by his touch on her wrist, very soft.

He took her wrist with gentile hands and looked it over carefuly, softly pressing here and there. "I looks like the swellings going down quite a bit." He replied. He pushed her arm back aginst her chest to hold it there. "How about, wheres your family?" He asked, for lack of questions to be asked in his mind.

"Somewhere in Mississippi, I suppose. That's where they were when I left them anyway. I don't think that they even noticed I was gone until there was an extra seat in the car. That's just how it was, though. Humans adapt though, right?" She smiled a little, thinking of her past. Oh, so you're telling someone about your past now? Didn't I tell you to shut up? She put her right hand on her wrist, "Thanks again," she said.

He smiled softly. "No problem." He replied, "How far is it?" He asked her, hands finding his pockets once again. "Mississippi huh?" He immediatly got a mental image of a farm and flat land and nothing for miles from this red barn and little wooden house. Home on the range I guess...Or a ranch. "But you weren't born there were you. You don't have an accent." ((If she does have an accent then just disregaurd that.)) He looked over at her.

"My dad used to tell me that I was born in the clouds. I knew he said it because he couldn't remember. Him and my mom had 9 children counting me, and they were always moving around." She looked back at him. "And not just city to city; they moved from state to state and didn't stay in one place for over 6 months."

He chuckled. "A girl born in the clouds. Now that would be interesting wouldn't it?" He reached up and pushed back the strands of hair that was too long to get fully tied back. "Military child?" He asked her.

"Uh..." She looked down at her feet for a minute. He touched my face!Uh-n-no. With what I can remember, we traveled with some type of carnival, maybe a circus, but I really doubt anything that exciting." She stretched her arms high above her head, and let them drift back down with a sigh. As they kept walking, she saw her house.

"Ah, home sweet home." she said sarcasticly, "You wanna come in, or are you busy?"

((First he didn't touch her face. He pushed his own hair back...sorry abou the confusion. Second I thought they were going to the hospital?))

Pierce smiled, looking over at ehr house as she offered. He wouldn't go in there. No more strangers houses. That little mistake..and a little too much beer and other substances...had earned him a child and his mother who hated him. He shook his head.

"No. We're both busy." He replied, reaching out to take her wrist and look it over, and somewhat as a reminder. "We are going to get this looked at."

((Oops! Now I feel like an ass...))

"Oh, sorry," she said, looking a little embarrassed. "Supose I forgot..." She took to steps down off her porch, waited for him, and they kept walking down the street towards the hospital.

Seeing her embarassment and then she continued to walk down the path, Pierce, shifting his hair color from black to flaming red but left it into the nail spikes, stepped up onto her porch. "Actually," it was easy for excuses to come to him, "It's good that we are here. You should put Ice on that before we continue, try and get the swelling down.

"Good idea," she said, reaching for her purse. She searched around for her key, not really thinking much of his changing hair color. She'd grown up in the circus, had a few things that she could do, and it didn't really bother her all that much.

When she finally found her key, she opened the door and went for the kitchen. "You can come on back here, if you want!" she called from the back off the house.