WELCOME.

[rebecca douglass.]

Rebecca Douglass brushed brilliant purple bangs out of her face as she studied a painting by Lilly Martin Spencer. Kiss Me and You'll Kiss the 'Lasses was what the label said. The woman standing in a bourgeous interior was pictured turning from her work and offering them a rather devious smile. Rebecca guessed that the young woman in the painting would most likely douse whoever had interupted her work with the molasses in the spoon she was holding.

Rebecca did not realize just how much she stood out near the old fashioned, Victorian paintings. With her vibrant hair and dark, odd clothing she definitely did not fit with the more subdued artwork. She seemed, however, to be oddly at peace and rather capivated by the art.

Part of this was because she was focused and calm enough to have been able to turn down her enhanced hearing. At the moment she could hear no better than the average person and she was pleased to have a headache-free day. It was not often that her day started well and she was able to be so relaxed.

[zachariah wilson.]

‘Follow me and we will make our way to the Egyptian exhibit.’ The words of the overly eager tour guide traveled through one ear and out the next with Zachariah as he gazed up at a painting. The colors were so dark and it made Zachariah feel cold almost as if he would never be cheerful again. The painting was known as Echo of Screams. It was a protest painting in which a young child crouched down in a heap of rubble, crying out for his lost home. Right about now, Zachariah could identify with the feeling of homesickness.

Turning around, Zachariah realized he had been left behind by the rest of the tour. Shrugging it off he decided it was better this way. They moved to fast for him to enjoy the art work. Walking toward the Victorian exhibit, Zachariah continued to think about the painting of the child. He was just about to turn the corner when he could have sworn he saw the very child out of the corner of his eye. Out of fright, Zachariah jumped and he slipped and fell backward toward some girl around his age.

The child was gone. What was he thinking; there was no way the child could have been there to start with. Picking himself up off the ground while wiping the dust off the back of his pants he began to mutter to himself, “Pull it together kid, your losing it.”

He finally took note to the girl he had bumped into. “Oh I’m dreadfully sorry Ms.” He said trying his best to lose the accent so he might better fit in.

[rebecca douglass.]

Rebecca was startled and barely able to keep her own balance. When Zachariah bumped into her she was forced to take a quick step back to get rid of the momentum caused by the collision. She muttered a rather unlady-like curse underneath her breath as she sighed while double checking her balance. When she was done with that she looked up, ready to give the boy a peice of her mind but stopped.

"It's alright, sug, no harm done." Her soft voice held a slight trace of southern accent. She had tried to hide it but was never very good at something like that. Her eyes drifted thoughtfully over him as she turned her enhanced hearing back on, carefully listening to him. The way his heart was beating he sounded like he had had a scare. "You right, sug? You look as if you've seen somethin' awful."

She leaned a bit closer to him, her blue eyes gaining light with her curiousity. The boy seemed to be close to her age, she thought after giving him another once over. She could not tell if he had come into the museum willingly but he was polite so she gave him points for that. He was cute too, so flirting would not hurt.