.trash :f l a v o u r e d: trash [Jayce]

[Leslie Armstrong]

The strong scent of tobacco filled her nostrils, swirling around her as she exhaled deeply. Clutched between two calloused fingertips was a small, paper stick with smoke curling up from its tip. Ah yes, a lovely little cancer stick. Placing it against her lips once again, adding another stain of red around it from the shade on her lips, she inhaled again.

Her posture had far exceeded the term 'relaxed', her feet, clad in heavy, black boots, were swung over the side of her severely beat up convertible, while the rest of her body was slouched across the front seats. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was even allowed to smoke on school property, but it didn't really matter. Getting caught out here was highly unlikely and she probably wouldn't have cared either way.

[Jayce Starr]

Jayce's hands were shoved into the pockets of his rather tight jeans; a studded belt put on as well. His black hoodie was snug around his upper body. His onyx hair was down [no, duh.] and was being blown about by the soft breezes that came by as he walked around the school.

He wasn't paying much attention to where he was going. One of those days where he just started walking and bam, this is where he was. As he breathed, the scent of tobacco came through his nose. He looked around, wondering who exactly would have the nerve to smoke on school property. As he turned a corner to the parking lot he smirked, well obviously.

"Put your hands in the air, Miss. Armstrong."

He screamed suddenly, approaching her, his hands in the position of a gun. He had no idea what the hell he was doing.

[]

[Leslie Armstrong]

At the sound of a voice, a bit of a commotion could be heard inside the car, clearly the occupant was having a little trouble righting her posture. After some difficulty, she managed to prop herself onto one elbow to peer over the side of the car, not bothering to extinguish the smoke. That voice had far too boyish of a ring to it to be anyone of real authority, though what she beheld was pretty entertaining all the same. The sight of Jayce stealthily approaching her car in the fashion of a cop was highly amusing.

With a look of wide-eyed innocence, Leslie stuck her arms over the side of the car, cigarette still gripped tightly, with her wrists together. "Oh officer! You've caught me! What a bad girl I am, you should just cuff me and lock me up right now." the pout she'd initially put on her blood red lips to accompany the innocent act had now made way for a mischievious sneer.

Anyone who didn't know who the hell Leslie was would probably have good reason to be afraid of her at the moment. Decked out with a leather jacket, studded on the shoulders with a leopard print interior, low rise, black capris, several layered belts and high black boots, buckling up the front, she looked like a force to be reckoned with.