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Paint me like one of your Sith girls
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That dreamy smile ran its way across Natalie's face again. She liked being praised. It was not in itself a drive to her behaviour; she was intrinsically motivated... but it was always nice to be told that what she was doing was good. Not essential, but nice.

Even so, Natalie might have known that she was bad at the guitar and that other people didn't much like it, but that didn't really stop her. She was getting better, very, very slowly, but she was improving. What mattered to Nate was her own whims, not the opinions other people had of them. Hell, if she let what other people thought about her get to her, Natalie would've been sunk a long time ago. She was too laid back and relaxed to bristle or break down at barbs.

Writing lyrics down... right, Nate did that. It didn't really come naturally to her to transcribe thoughts, but sadly, there wasn't space in Natalie's head for every idea, nor the attention span. Perhaps that was why her poetry was so mangled. Something about her thinking process did not translate well to paper. She did take notes, though it was perhaps a stretch to call her hasty scrawls in various excercise books (and occasionally the back of her hand) genuinely ordered 'notes'. It could be difficult though, sometimes the ideas just slipped through her fingers, sometimes she ad-libbed a song then, after its conclusion, could no longer remember how it went. That's how things went sometimes though. Perhaps it was one of a kind, like a fleeting dream. At least it saw use, didn't go to waste.

Natalie gave a slight nod. Shrugged again. "I like solo," she said simply... right before they were interrupted.

She raised an arched eyebrow at the intruder, an imperious look that belied Nate's personality and was almost certainly not deliberate. It took her a couple of seconds to recognise him, but his words, they were a sharp reminder to Natalie. Earlier that morning, in class... great, Todd Hudson.

He was loud, he disrupted her painting with his old fashioned music. Old fashioned music that wasn't even that good. In so much as Nate could muster the malice to dislike anyone, Todd was probably that one person she held distaste for. Still, confrontation... not her nature. Asking her for a favour though... Nate could definitely turn that down.

"I don't owe you one," Natalie stated, looking back at her painting wistfully. Lunch was whittling away, she wanted to get back to it. "Not playing watchdog, I'm painting."


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