& never land.

can anyone who has kae’s number call her? i’m really worried. ( diiabolism )

SIGNAL BOOST SIGNAL BOOST GUYS IM SCARED FOR THE ENVIRONMENT. By 2050, there will be approx 9.2 billion people on this planet. It’s predicted we’re going to use 80% more energy than we already do today. The global warming rate is going to raise by 6 degrees, which is absolutely insane because all the glaciers are going to melt. That’s going to cause the sea levels to rise. That means most of Manhattan, San Francisco, Venice, and countless other cities everywhere will be flooded and underwater. TODAY AS OF 2014, nearly HALF of the species on earth have gone extinct. Think of what it will be in 2050. The scientists predict that if no immediate action is taken by 2020, OUR EARTH WILL BE SCREWED. In 2050, I won’t even be a grandma yet. I can’t even imagine the world my grandchildren will have to live in, if there is still one left. WE MUST DO SOMETHING. EVERYONE, must take part, the future of this earth is counting on YOU. If EVERYONE recycled, turned off their lights when they weren’t in use, unplugged appliances and turned off the water when it isn’t used…think of the difference we can make. Please guys, you shouldn’t just brush global warming off as if it’s a minor issue, this is huge and scary. Please reblog to spread awareness of this serious and very real issue. Thank you so much

The television had been playing episode after episode after episode of the Powerpuff Girls now at the mercy of Violet being the one who somehow managed to get control of the remote. That was rare but when it happened, you knew about it. The last time she did it, she had forced the rest of the room to watch about twelve hours of the Shopping Channel because the man on it was testing out those unhygienic blow-pens. She didn't see the grossness of it, just the ‘magic’. Besides she was more or less oblivious to everybody else’s hatred for her TV taste. When she was endorsed in something there wasn’t much that would drag her attention away from it. Especially if that something was the Powerpuff Girls. That’s why it took her a whole fifteen minutes, aka when the end credits started, to realise she was actually being spoken to...and even better, it wasn’t somebody moaning at her for hiding the remote. “Do you have a sketch book?” was her automatic response. It would have been more considerate of her to notify the poor guy that quite a few people did art in the activity room or the gardens, but she always got over-excited about people who showed the slightest interest in the things she liked. “I’d show you mine, but it’s in my room and I can’t be bothered to go and get it yet.  Did your therapist not give you watercolours when you arrived?”  Generally, little gifts such as those were what was known as ‘Violet-Privilege’. Clearly even her therapist forgot she was twenty and a not twelve year old that should be spoiled, sometimes.   She crossed her legs up into the chair she was sitting on. Now she was endorsed in this conversation and others in the room didn’t hang around to flick over to something less colourful while she wasn’t paying attention to the fuzzy television. “I’m Violet, what’s your name?”  Great listen skills, Vi. 

Or was she? The blonde had heard about the suicide rumours surrounding this room and while she for one was not somebody who had that in mind, who was to say the girl in front of her wasn't either?? She stopped just before the door, turning to look at the other girl. "--What're you doing here, then?"

It took Violet a while to put two and two together, which was unsurprising. It took Violet a while to put anything together. "Is he talking to me?" she had mumbled to herself or somebody whose presence only she was aware of. Still, as soon as she recognised that she was indeed the person being addressed, she shuffled over two or three seats and then turned back to the individual. She couldn't say he wasn't familiar. "Is it a special chair?" she asked with genuine curiosity. Her legs swung back and forth under her new seat, genuinely interested to hear whatever reply he might have. "Why do you like it so much?"

Even after four years it never quite failed to startle Violet at how frightened people looked. Genuinely frightened. She had just been passing through, nothing more and nothing less, although the girls naturally lesuirely pace did sometimes make it look like she was prying, looking for something. That wasn't entirely false. She liked having people to talk to. What else was there to do after all? She turned her head to look at the other, and then the tray of food. "I just ate," the bluntness was returned but not to much effect. She was smiling, after all. "--And I just got back from my councillor, so I've had all the help I need today. Technically. Are you hungry? You don't seem to be enjoying that."

"Don't be so rude,” Violet said, turning her attention to the seemingly empty chair opposite her, “He’s probably new -- besides, you still get lost.” She stood up giving Lip an apologetic look as she wandered over to the bins to clear her plate. “Ignore him, he’s an A* hypocrite,” she only half-whispered, now looking over her shoulder at the male who was actually visible. Surprisingly to most people, Violet took in a lot whilst spending day-after-day-after-day in this place, despite the fact most of them took one look at her and doubted she even knew her own name. “I might’ve seen you already, but I can’t find a name to put to the face for the life of me,” she explained, now standing back by the table with Lip. She held out her hand. “I’m Violet, or Vi. Same thing, right. It’s probably best you keep your salad situation the way it is - the ones here are nothing to write home about.” she said before adding, “Do you want me to show you some anything’s? There’s the kitchen...the activity room...a lot of corridors...the garden, if it’s open?”

"Probably not." Violet says in response to the God comment. The honest truth of the matter was that she had no idea whether he existed and she wasn't sure she cared anymore. Being brought up in a strictly Catholic family as an antagonistic child had taught her to be a little bit too fluid with her personal opinions on those kinds of things. "But neither is Santa and yet fat middle-aged guys at local malls pretend to be him. It's the same with the people who run this place and God." She continued to fiddle with the hem of her skirt, only glancing up to take note of how exhausted the boy looked. Not a familiar feeling to Violet who seemed to have a twenty-four hour supply of energy all day, every day. "Do you sleep well?" she asked. It was an obvious question but you would be surprised at the number of people who sat up awake, thinking they were the only ones in the whole building. "I have a friend who says it's easier to sleep in the acitivity room during dinner when everybody else is eating and then get dinner after. It's got a nicer vibe than the dorms," she explained. "How new are you?"

Honestly, Violet was thrilled to have her attention dragged away from what was supposed to be a garden salad. Technically, she couldn't complain. The ingredients were there - tomatos, carrots, cucumber, you name it. But clearly, the word 'salad' was lost on whoever had prepared the piece of art she was currently dismantaling with her fork, because rather than being all mixed together - like a salad - said ingredients were sat segrogated on her plate. "Anything..." she echoed, as if it were an actual place she was trying to remember how to reach. It was only then she glanced up and automatically realised she recognised the face that'd just now approached her. Her focus quickly shifted back to the vegetables, "The nice thing about wanting to find anything is that you can usually get to it by going anywhere," she offered, "unless your anything is a salad -- then no such luck."

"And that is how Will Smith taught me not to judge sharks..." Violet said to the 'person' she'd just entered the room with. It wasn't until she had plopped down into the empty space on the sofa with a poof, letting her daisy printed skirt fan out around her and stretched out her pale, gangly legs that she noticed the boy next to her. A rather exhausted looking boy at that. Immediately, her head snapped to face in the other direction, addressing the other person sat next to her, "Would you shut up? He's trying to sleep-read," she whispered. However, Violet had never been a girl of the discreet variety, so it was closer to a stage-whisper. "I'm so sorry," she said, her look reading nothing but apologetic as she turned back to face the boy next to her. "I'm in the process of trying to get her to use her indoor voice," she said, gesturing over her shoulder to what in reality was an empty space. "Is that good?" she asked with a smile, tapping the top of the book in the others hands. "What's it about?"

Why was it that Violet always seemed to have an immense curiousity when it came to those who appeared to be more than distressed about their current situations? "Mm.." The hum that passed through her sealed lips said one of two things. She was either racking her brain for an appropriate and not-so-disappointing answer to his inevitably disappointment-worthy question. Or, it was a rare occassion where she wasn't in the mood for talking. "I don't think it does," she said, proving her hum to mean the former of the two options, "--I think the idea is that you get better and then someone who likes to play God will decide when you're entitled to live somewhere nicer." For a girl who spoke with a slight uplift, as if even she was questioning her own logic, her reply had been agonizingly true. Offering a lopsided smile, she looked at the boy for a silent moment before saying, "Doesn't sitting like that hurt your elbows?"

i’m a delicate little fairy please do not raise your voice or say mean things to me bc i will burst into tears