- Messages
- 104
A brunette haired girl shot up from sleep, her eyes sprining open and her body sitting up right in bed. Tilting her head to the side, she gazed at her reflection on the far side of the room. The girl on the other side smiled and scanned her arms, feeling her face over and over, hopping out of bed feeling as though she'd just been released from a prison, moving her arms around the air, basking in her freedom at once. Zaya was out, and now it was her turn to shine, she changed into her long, black skinny jeans, and sleek black leather boots, white tank clad torso wrapped in a black leather trench coat. She walked over to the mirror and looked at her and 'the attatched' through the mirror, smiling at herself, and slyly smirking at her sisters. She blew a kiss to her reflection, and strutted quickly out of her apartment and mounted her broom. Her trench coat tails blew in the wind as she sliced the air on her broom, the wind in her hair and smacking her right in the face. By the way it was only about five in the mourning, the streets were normally bustling, but at this time, only a few workers started setting up their shops. Zaya swung herself off her broom not even coming close to the ground and she landed safely on her feet. The dawn clouded the air, with it's light mist and tinged blue light as the sky turned from a dark velvet blue to a corn flour teal, bidding farewell to the night.
Zaya walked over the cobblestone path, and pulled out her wand. She held it between her thumb and index finger, racing over to a wall, she checked if anyone was near her by whipping her head to either side. She held her wand like a quill and wrote on one of the shops, 'Zeered' only she knew what it meant, but she did it in big, but beautiful writing. Tagging the side of the wall was remedial, and nothing compared to what she could do to cause trouble. The person left to clean it up wouldn't be able to do it so easily either.
Zaya walked over the cobblestone path, and pulled out her wand. She held it between her thumb and index finger, racing over to a wall, she checked if anyone was near her by whipping her head to either side. She held her wand like a quill and wrote on one of the shops, 'Zeered' only she knew what it meant, but she did it in big, but beautiful writing. Tagging the side of the wall was remedial, and nothing compared to what she could do to cause trouble. The person left to clean it up wouldn't be able to do it so easily either.