[Under My Umbrella] *open*

[MLE]

"You haaad my heart!
And we'll never be wooorlds apart!"[/i]

It was pouring out. The rain came out of no where, ruining what had otherwise been a beautiful, sunny day. Within three minutes, anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the surprise downpour would have been soaked through.

Scout was one of those unfortunate souls. Not awesome, considering how great his day had been up until then. It was the first time in a long time Scout had gotten some free time into his week--thanks, greatly, to the hours he'd spent on hardcore homework-doing over the previous weekend. He'd gotten to bed early and woken up feeling refreshed and ready to go. Scout had been one of the first into the cafeteria, and one of the first to finish his breakfast. He'd headed to his classes with all of his books in order, answered some difficult questions correctly, and held a nice conversation with his French teacher from the previous year (all in French, of course). And since it had been such a beautiful day, and since Scout had literally nothing else to do, he'd thought he'd treat himself to a nice, adventurous walk around the school grounds.

It was at the most inconvenient time that the rain had started. Just when Scout was ducking under a few low-hung branches of random, refreshing trees, the first drops started to fall. He didn't think much of it, until the water started coming down in buckets, and Scout was forced to run under the nearest form of shelter. It happened to be a big, open pavilion, located a little past the stables. It was like one that a person could find in any small park--cold, concrete floored, some-type-of-metal-pillars, and a kind of uninviting looking slanted roof. Heavy wooden picnic benches were lined up in long rows, and though Scout could see the inside of what looked like a tiny room on the far side, the pavilion appeared to be empty. Not necessarily a good thing, because it was also gray, dark, and kind of creepy. But the pavilion was also dry, and since everything from Scout's blue tee-shirt to his khaki shorts and comfy sneakers was soaked, he really couldn't complain.

But being stuck in the middle of no where (it was only a little bit of an exaggeration) and having no one to talk to meant that Scout was bored. He was never the type of deep, soulful person who liked to watch and listen to the rain. It was boring, and it was loud. So, to cure his boredom, Scout took to one of his absolute favorite activities: singing.

"When the sun shiiines we'll shine together!
Told yooou I'll be here forever!"

As a general rule, Scout did not sing unless he was alone, or in the shower. This was not because he was shy, or because he was trying to hide an amazing talent or anything.

It was because he sucked. Literally. Scout was a terrible singer, and no one could ever call him decent, even to be moderately nice. There were no words to describe his terribleness, and Scout knew this perfectly well, but he really did like singing. And as far as he could tell, no one was around to take offense to his tone quality (or lack there of). And it was a way to pass the time. So he sang, and waited for the rain to stop.

"UNDER MY UMBRELLA, ELLA, ELLA,
EH. EH. EH.
UNDER MY UMBRELLA, ELLA, ELLA,
EH! EH! EH!"[/size]

[Centrinity]

alexx 'ace' kerry

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400px,true][atrb=bgcolor,0d0a11,true] A soft pounding on the ground, drowned out by the rhythmic splashes, alerted anyone nearby to her presence. That was perhaps the main issue this time of year, she found. The unpredictable weather. Usually, it wasn't too bad, but today, apparently, it had been bound to rain on her parade, excusing the pun. It had been so wonderfully bright and sunny, and she'd been done for the day, so she'd gone to her main refuge - The stable. She'd taken a nice, long hour cleaning Imp up so his coat shone and there wasn't a single tangle in his mane, tail or forelock. Then, she'd tacked him up, climbed up into the saddle and gone to skim the edges of the forest, where it was safe to ride without running into traps. She'd been out for about a half hour before the rain had started, and she'd very quickly pushed the gelding into a canter. Not too fast, she didn't want him to slip. He was, after all, unshod. Without horseshoes and corks, he had very little to dig into the ground with. He was sure-footed, yes, but it was better to be safe and soaked than it was to be hurt, laying in the middle of a rainstorm and soaked anyway. Still, she was on her way back as fast as she could be when the terrible voice screeched out and she literally winced. Clearly she wasn't the only one caught in the rain. And the singing was getting louder. Apparently she'd have to pass him. With a roll of her eyes, she leg yielded the gelding over, slowing him to a trot as the hooves hit the stone floor in front of the pavilion, ringing loud and true as she drew closer. Imp was a large horse. She may push people away, but she wasn't entirely cold-hearted. She'd offer him a ride back to the barn. There were towels and horse blankets there to dry off with, and the rain wasn't entirely warm either. She kept Imp trotting, forward pace as always, until she was within a few feet from him, noticing he'd found a place to hide out that was dry. But she was here now, so she figured she may as well offer. She certainly wasn't going to duck inside with him, that would leave Imp out in the open, and she was far more fond of her horse than she was sharing a small space with someone she merely recognized from classes. "Merely recognized", of course, because she kept to herself to such a degree that she was familiar with faces, oftentimes even names, but she never socialized much. She sighed as she looked down, soaked to the bone already, as he appeared to be, and not particularly enjoying it as the wind combined with the rain nearly caused her to shiver. She didn't let herself, though. If you want to get to the barn, hurry up. I'd like to get there and dry off sooner rather than later. She sounded annoyed, perhaps, but it was more at the weather, and it was more her word choice than her tone that reflected this. She tended to do that. Say things one way, but everything else contradicted those particular connotations. She slipped her foot out of the stirrup, just in case, so that he could use it to hoist himself up, holding out her hand to help pull him up. If he took the offer, anyway. If he didn't, she'd be off again, not needing the stirrup or both hands on the reins, so she wouldn't waste time fixing that to look proper.