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»»x x x x x x x { First Middle Last }
""A relevant life quote."


__nickname ] here
__d . o . b ] day month
__age ] between 24 and 34 please
__gender ] here
__sexuality ] attracted to the opposite sex in some way please. not that i have anything against homosexuals, and i usually play them, but for this rp ...
character image here. no border, and make them look age appropriate.
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»xxxxxxx [ ••• ] xxxxxxx«


            __Ribbons
              ___ like
              ___ like
              ___ like
              ___ like
              ___ like

            __Lace
              ___ dislike
              ___ dislike
              ___ dislike
              ___ dislike
              ___ dislike


    »xxxxxxx [ ••• ] xxxxxxx«


            __A basic personality paragraph here, using the blurb as inspiration.
            __A nice chunky bio, please. Use the blurb as inspiration again.
            __themesong link
            X
            X
            X
            X
            X______________________________________
            c o p y r i g h t // { username }
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Name: spacie[ Henri Allan Rothschild ]
Age: spaceiiiii[ Twenty-seven ]
Gender: spaii[ Male ]
E-Mail: space[ Want-Off-This-Ride_Drii_@yahoo.com ]
Country: spai[ England ]

What are you looking for in a pen pal?
[ A meaningful relationship, not necessarily romantic, but we'll see how it goes.. ]

Hobbies/Interests:

          + [ Outdoor activities. Sports, hiking, trips to the seaside. ]
          + [ Cooking. I'm a fair hand at baking. ]
          + [ My kids. My students and nephews and niece. ]
          + [ America. The history and culture to be specific. ]


Short Introduction
[ Hi. Well, I'm Henry, the Year Four Primary Literataure teacher. That's fourth grade to any Americans out there. English Major, Teaching Minor from UCLA, which is where I got my first taste of American culture. Or Californian culture, maybe. I have custody of my sister's three children, 15 year old Elisse, 4 year old Quitman, and 18 month old David. That's your warning, because I'll probably talk about them quite often. If that doesn't scare you off, then I'm sure we'll get along brilliantly. ]
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Bao Shi-Ren

Music is the shorthand of emotion.
Music is the soul of language.
Without music, life would be a mistake.



                              Thirty-eight...thirty-nine.."Fourty."

                              The petite Viet-Japanese girl dropped from the pull-up bar and rolled her shoulders. Her eyes glittered cheerfully, and her skin shone with the bright flush of exertion. She had arrived on the island almost three days ago, intent on giving her body time to adjust. It was perfectly satisfactory. More than satisfactory, actually. Even in such a quiet place, the hinges on the lifting machines were oiled and smooth. The place was also empty. Granted, she had gotten there at an unusually early hour for most kids her age, but it was normal for her. Home in Beijing, she would have gotten up this early to run laps in the park near her family home before school. Her mother has always said that getting up early was key to having a good day.

                              As she slipped of her shoes, Shi-Ren studied her reflection in one of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. She looked rumpled, and strangely confident, even for someone who could barely claim to be 5'2". Her short hair, loosely curled today, was caught up in a ponytail at the top of her head, spilling over her ears. Her clothes, not the clean ones she had waiting for her in the locker room, made her look young, and almost American. She figured she liked it when she looked confident, and if looking American was a side-affect of that, then she wouldn't complain.

                              Shi-Ren walked away from her shoes, away from her water bottle, away from her phone that was blasting music out for her, and faced the 'body' bag - the name her father had long ago given the large punching bags that weighed more than he did. She then began to fly through a series of high kicks, punches, and sweeps, nearly dancing at her frenzied pace. It took nearly twenty minutes like this for her to become completely winded.

                              Chào buổi sáng, Hoa hậu Shi-Ren. Nếu bạn đã sẵn sàng để lại, chiếc xe đã sẵn sàng. Good morning, Miss Shi-Ren. If you are ready to leave, the car is ready.

                              Shi-Ren sighed, but began to gather her things to head for the locker room. She quickly changed and refreshed her make-up and fixed her hair in the mirror over one of the sinks before putting her sunglasses on and leaving the gym, confident and fresh and ready to face the world. She made her way outside, and squinted at the light, barely dulled by her sunglasses. Across the very busy road, a limo waited outside and just a little past the pick-up/drop-off zone. That had to be it. There weren't many other cars around, and none that were just idling like the limo.

                              So she made her approach, but was stopped by what seemed to be a bodyguard. "You aren't allowed any closer, miss, unless you are going to the university." he said in a low, stern voice.

                              Shi-Ren bowed. "Bao Shi-Ren, sir. I am on my way to Devil's Kettle University, yes." she said, pulling her ID out of her purse. The man nodded and pointed her in the direction of the driver. The introductions were made again, and Mr. Ken opened the door for her to slide in. But she wasn't alone in this fine car. "I apologize. I didn't mean to intrude." she said, making a fine sitting bow before actually looking at her companion. "Wait, you're Kim Soo-Min, aren't you? It's nice to finally meet you after listening to most of your music. I'm Bao Shi-Ren."

                              [[ooc::there are links to the song of the moment and outfit of the moment in the links below. i hope this is long enough. now to actually get to work on the other profile. i would have done it sooner, but with the storm, and the cake, and the dinner, and the shopping list making...ugh. busy busy busy.]]




[i can hear you : : i can feel you]
Can you see me?
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Whatever we're training for, I hope it never happens.

you see me : : you hear me



                              Soft, soft, soft.

                              "Stop it."

                              But it's so soft, Tobi.

                              "I don't care. It's mine. Hands off."

                              Tobias yanked his tail out off the hands of one of his hallucinations and went back to brushing his barely damp hair. He was dimly aware of his guard - Allens - at his back. At least he was familiar with the mouse boy's hallucinations by now, and didn't react when Tobias started talking to himself. He only waited till the appointed time, and told Tobias that it was time to go to the cafeteria.

                              The morning had started out so well. He had actually gotten a good night's sleep, thanks to the storms all night. When he woke up, after a dream free night, he felt fluid, his joints loose and free. Calm. After a warmer than usual shower, he came back to his room to get ready for the morning run. Dressing, stretching. The run had been nice, as well. Wetter, colder, louder than he liked, but a chance to pretend to be free. The only snag was dealing with a music-less Mark. The snake usually listened to a music player during his workouts, because he had gained enough good behavior points to trade for one, but couldn't bring it outside because of the weather.

                              Tobias couldn't see the point in saving up lots and lots of points for bigger rewards when the food rewards were worth less, but just a fulfilling. Well, it might just be him, but he was really looking forward to the blackberry and hazelnut muffin he was going to get to go with his breakfast this morning.

                              The cafeteria was still mostly empty of spectators this early on, but some of the others were here already. As he passed her by, Tobias greeted Gypsy in their typical fashion, a type of nuzzle thing and a smile. He took his seat by Mark and across from Liliana. "Good morning." he said softly.

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americaxxelizabethxxkennedy
- - but that's just too formal, so let's go with meribeth


                                just the important thingsxxxxxxx

                                I don't think I look like it »
                                        twenty-two ;; august eleventh


                                can't you tell? »
                                        well the name is feminine, even if i'm not


                                my body is a temple »
                                        ears pierced twice, belly button, and tongue.
                                        left side of neck -x-
                                        left leg -x


                                I have my allegiances »
                                        SAMCRO


                                I've got responsibilities »
                                        if you are hell, girl


                                my life story can be complicatedxxxxxxx
                                        This is my life. The smell of motor oil and gasoline, the feel of old leather and denim and the wind in my hair and the California sun on my face. A gun or a wrench or the throttle in my hand. I was born to his life, just as much as my brother, and our dad before that. Ever since Pappy started it up, asphalt has been our veins.

                                        I'm not exactly sure, but you could probably compare life under SAMCRO rule with living in an old mob family. There are things you can do, and things you can't do, and things that are expected of you, regardless of age, gender, or standing with the group. Now, as sort of the princess of the group, I am expected to take care of one of our biggest covers, the auto shop. I am also expected to leave all the fighting to the boys and butt out. What a load of horseshit, right? Especially in this day and age. Well, see, that's where you're wrong. It was the same when Pappy was in charge, and there's nothing so strong in a biker group as tradition. Most of the time, Brother agrees with me. He even helped me sneak along on some missions if he had to go alone, just so long as I dressed up like a boy.

                                        I guess I got the better end of the education stick than Brother. After high school, where I excelled in auto-mechanics, metal shop, and business, I went to the local community college for my bachelors in Business Management. At least I got that, I mean. I had a pretty chill romantic life, too. Went on a few dates with The Free Man, Forever Young, and a few other members and prospects. What can I say, I like older men. Nothing too serious yet, but mostly, I'm setting some foundations with the guys. Laying boundaries and starting some little flames.


                                I'm gonna need therapy one dayxxxxxxx
                                » fearless
                                » tough
                                » charming
                                » stubborn
                                » vain


                                gimme, gimme, gimmexxxxxxx
                                » silver or pewter jewelry
                                » leather, denim, and cotton clothes. that's all i'll wear.
                                » fine wine
                                » Judas Priest, my great dane x
                                » working on engines


                                no, thanks...xxxxxxx
                                » sappy movies
                                » beer. damn weak piss water.
                                » junk food
                                » girly perfumes
                                » rap music


sincerely signed byxxSavingPollyOliver
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xxxx
Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities.
Truth isn't.


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                  Stars, definitely. If it's anything else snake themed, I might just have to shock myself. Once again, Mark found himself taking just a few moments after second shower to admire himself and plan the next batch of ink he'd inject into his skin. It was a recent hobby of his, a good time waster. He wasn't vain, oh no. He was too noble to be vain. No, he was just proud of his body, and the tattoos he'd chosen to decorate it. A phlegmy sound and movement behind him in the mirror made him whip around. The new guard.


                      "What d'ya think, sir?" Mark rubbed his abdomen suggestively. "Y'think some blue stars'd look good on me?" he drawled, giving the new guy one of his special smirks he usually reserved for Tobi Torment. "Or maybe green."


                  The guard cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Mark's smirk only widened. What I live for. "Get going, 0777. You're wasting time." growled the new guy. And it's gone again. Mark sighed, pulled on his shirt and hoodie, and allowed himself to be led away.


                      The walk to the cafeteria was silent, other than the repetitive sounds of their footsteps, as usual, and that was the way Mark liked it. He could think on the relatively longish walk. But it wasn't usually could he think but what was he going to think about? He could plot a new way to bother Tobi today. That would be fun. He might even be able to sneak a little kiss if the guards weren't looking. That might freak the poor kid out too much though, so it was out.


                  Maybe think of something new to read. He'd already plowed through the Twain in the library, and the Wilde, Shakespeare, and Faulkner. He might try that one series. Lord of the Rings or something stupid like that. He'd been avoiding it for months now. But, no. To think about books now would just make him want to read them, which would depress him. So, no, literature wasn't the way to go either.


                      He could contemplate the meaning to life. But that would just depress him further. So nix on that one, too.


                  By the time he'd actually made it to the cafeteria, he'd exhausted all the subjects he might think about, and he wore his mask of generally irritated disdain for his guard as he took a seat next across from Joeline after saying his good morning to Able. Not that they hadn't seen each other before during laps, but Mark was just that much of a non-morning person that he didn't really speak to anyone till after second shower. He gave Chesa a tiny, worrying smile, only because he couldn't think of anything to say to her. He knew she didn't exactly approve of him worrying over her. He'd leave that for Tobi, because God knows he would try to figure out how she was doing, scared or not. He was just that sweet a kid.


                      "Mornin', ladies." he said upon sitting, giving Joeline and Liliana a grin before turning his attention solely on Joeline. Oh, yes, he was well aware that Miss Woodsen knew he didn't like her all that much, but that was ok, just so long as things didn't get violent. Nothing against her, no. Sometimes her episodes just freaked out his instincts too much for comfort.







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Miss Brains and Beauty


ßαςϊcς
▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

My driver's license reads Winifred Gail Kirkland
My friends prefer to call me Winnie
The best day of my life has to be Marth 9th
I've eaten this many b-day cupcakes Seventeen
Last time I checked those bumps on my chest aren't just tumors.
My eyes bug out whenever hotties walk by

Тακε ςσмε Иσ†ες
▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

Buy me these and I'll be nicer..maybe
+ History museums. My whole life, I've been working towards an internship at the Smithsonian. My grandfather helped arrange it my freshman year, and I won't let anyone get between the grand museum and me.
+ Comics/Manga. My older brother Greg got me into comics when I was sick with chicken pocks as a kid, and I've loved them ever since. It was only a trek across the internet and a little step sideways till I found manga and began to read them, too.
+ Icecream. All flavors, any time of the year.
+ All kinds of music. I don't care if it's classical or rap. I'll listen to it if it sounds good to me.
+ Books, libraries, computers. Anything that gets me information, I like. I'm sort of a mental hoarder.

Gimmie these and I'll hurl on you
- Jell-o. It's what my mom gives me when I get my stress fevers. I hate the texture.
- Violence. I never fought with my older brothers, so I'm not used too violence. More than anything, my brothers used to protect me from bullies.
- Being teased for being a brain. Call me upity, but I hate being classified as being a nerd or geek just because I love comics or actually pay attention in class. Let's face it, I'm prettier than a lot of those popular girls anyway.
- Answering machines. Just no. If I go through the effort of calling you instead of texting you, it's pretty important.
- Reality TV. One word. Snookie.

Get those freakin things out of my sight!
X Large dogs. I was bitten as a child and had to be taken to the hospital for stitches on my throat. I've had corrective surgery, so you can't tell where the scars are, but I'm still terrified.
X Being alone outside at night. I've just always been kinda freaked out by it.
X Jellyfish. I had one wrap around both my legs and my right arm when I was four, and had too be taken to the hospital to get anti-venom, it was so bad.

What you may or may not like about me
> Dry humor.
> Non-confrontational.
> Cultured.
> Open minded.
> Gentle.


Keep this to yourself or else
< I've been with several guys since my Junior year. Never anything serious. Just a few one night stands. My friends would disapprove, but, hey, a girl has needs just like any guy. I don't really remember them all that well, just that they all happened at parties I either crashed or was invited to.

< I have tattoos just above the regulation hem line on the back of my left thigh and on the side of my right breast. The one on my thigh is the Party Poison Spider from the Killjoy album by MCR, and the one on my right breast is 'Mens rea' or Guilty Mind.

< When I stress out too much, I'll get fevers. I have since I was a kid.

мУ тuиɛς
▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

= New Morning by Alpha Rev
= You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC
= Walking Disaster by Sum41
= Summertime by My Chemical Romance


Want-Off-This-Ride_Drii_ is my detention buddy
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Mister Musician


ßαςϊcς
▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

My driver's license reads Liam Michael Carver
My friends prefer to call me Carver or Cookie
The best day of my life has to be August 4th
I've eaten this many b-day cupcakes Fifteen
Last time I checked I'm kind of a guy.
My eyes bug out whenever someone cute walks by

Тακε ςσмε Иσ†ες
▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

Buy me these and I'll be nicer..maybe
+ My guitar and trumpet. My older brother gave me his Les Paul when he went away to Iran, and it's all I have to remember him by, now that he's dead. The trumpet is my favorite instrument, and the one I have was a gift from my grandmother in Boston, a beautiful silver one.
+ Entourage. Don't judge. I love Vince and E.
+ Cooking. I'm actually really good at it. I make brownies and cookies for my friends every Thursday.
+ The music hall. It's my favorite place on campus. I'm usually there pretty early, so it's kind of quiet when I go.
+ Singing. I absolutely love singing. Alone.

Gimmie these and I'll hurl on you
- Cats. I'm very allergic.
- Spicy food. It gives me heartburn.
- Gore-y movies. Weak stomach and all that.
- Lizards. They're pretty damn creepy. Like, seriously.

Get those freakin things out of my sight!
X Public humiliation. Falling down, dropping my books, missing a note, it's horrible.
X Singing. I'm always afraid I'll miss a note or that my voice will crack in a bad spot.
X Hot girls. I'm not very confident at all, and they intimidate me with their confidence. Except Winnie, but still, she's really nice.

What you may or may not like about me
> Shy without his guitar or trumpet.
> Optimistic and cheerful.
> Kind-hearted.
> Qurkiy.
> Humble.


Keep this to yourself or else
< I'm a Christian from a very Baptist family. I may not be as die hard as the rest of my family, but I'm still saved and I still pray when the need arises.

< I can't whistle.

< I've never gotten drunk or high, or even gone to any of the major parties, crashing or otherwise.

мУ тuиɛς
▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

= Pazu's Fanfare by Castle in the Sky
= Mahler's 1st Symphony by Gustav Mahler
= Santa Ana Wind by Lawson Rollins
= Blackbird by Glee


Want-Off-This-Ride_Drii_ is my detention buddy
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♪♫♪~♪♫♪~♪♫♪
Let's start a movement, let's start it RIGHT NOW!¡!¡!
And if you don't know where to sta~art
I can show you. I'm your new team captain.
Put your left hand over your heart and repeat after me:
"It's perfectly fine to be a happy individual."
♪♫♪~♪♫♪~♪♫♪



                        The screen glowed softly in the pale morning light, and a pot of coffee brewed, letting its rich aroma fill the kitchen. Soft clicking noises filled the kitchen, a music of its own next to the hum of the refrigerator, the hissing of the coffee pot, and the bird-song coming in through the open window on the breeze. Typing at the island counter, her hair up in a messy, still damp bun, as she had been for nearly an hour, was Winifred Kirkland. But she wasn't tired, oh no. Not even at this indecently early and beautiful hour. No, she regularly got up this early on school days. Mostly to beat the mad dash to the shower that generally proved dangerous and sometimes disfiguring that generally occurred once the twins and Gregory were awake, but also to enjoy the first cup of coffee of the day with Grandfather and to check her e-mail in relative peace.

                        Winnie took a bite of Trix in almost slow motion as she tried to re-read and reply to what her pen-pal from Oxford, Karen, had written her yesterday. Something about her dog going crazy and attacking her boyfriend while he was in the shower. Karen's stories always made her grin, sometimes even falling out of her chair with laughter. Yes, that kind of thing did happen regularly. In the end of the letter, and at the end of Winnie's cereal, Karen talked about how she couldn't wait until Sakura-Con this year and how they'd finally meet face to face. Winnie quickly typed out that, yes, she was excited too, and couldn't wait to see Karen in her England costume. She herself would be going as Hungary. She ended the letter with the familiar 'Hugs and kisses from across the pond, Winnie~!' and signed out of her e-mail and shut down her computer.

                        Somewhere deep in the back of the house, a door opened and closed. Winnie stood stiffly, picking up her bowl and dumping it in the sink on her way past towards the coffee counter. She took down two white solid mugs and filled them with fresh coffee. She brought them back to the island and put one in the spot next to her's before sitting down. Not two minutes later, and older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and beard and her striking green eyes walked into the kitchen buttoning up a white shirt. "Good morning, Grand-daddy." said Winnie softly.

                        Grey Crowley smiled at his granddaughter and kissed the top of her head. "Morning, Pooh-bear. You're up early today." he said in his thick Boston accent. He sat down once he spotted his coffee, and Winnie pushed her laptop closed and away as he took a sip. "Not really. I couldn't sleep." Winnie pulled the clip out of her freshly washed and mostly dry hair and let the brassy waves fall down her back. At her grandfather's prompting, she handed him the brush she had laid aside and turned so he could brush out the tangles. Though neither of them ever said so, they knew that she was Grey's favorite grandchild.

                        "I talked to Dr. Furso this morning."

                        Instantly, Winnie straightened in her seat, and she had to fight her urge to ship around to look at her grandfather. "How is he doing?" she asked instead. "Oh, he's fine. He's been thinking very hard about your internship." Grey put down the brush and began braiding Winnie's hair with deft and nimble fingers. Winnie waited in silence until grey had tied off the end of her nearly waist length braid before turning to look at him expectantly. "And?"

                        Grey grinned. "Jerry thinks that you're letters prove your knowledge of the Smithsonian so thoroughly that you should skip your internship and start work right after your Senior summer." With a squeal, Winnie sprang out of her chair and threw arms around Grey's neck. "Oh Grand-daddy, that's amazing! I have to call Karen and tell her! Oh! I have to write Dr. Furso another letter." She left the kitchen and started towards her room still planning what she had to do, on top of changing out of her pajamas. Grey shook his head and chuckled as he watched her go.

                        ~+~+~+~+~+~+~

                        Winnie pounded a rhythm on the steering wheel of her truck to the beat of her song. She risked singing along, knowing that, yes, she probably would get the song stuck in her head but not caring at all. In the seat next to her lay her books, bag, and cap. The cup holders were both full: one had a Caramel Frappe, half full, and the other had the trash from a sausage biscuit. Sure, she had already eaten, but she had an extremely fast metabolism, and a tendency to eat like a starving football team on a good day.

                        As soon as she had found her phone, she had called Karen and told her the good news. Of course, her friend was as ecstatic as she was. They talked the entire time Winnie was getting ready for school and Karen was feeding her niece lunch, before Winnie finally had to do her make-up and fight the twins for the bathroom mirror. She had gotten a nasty bruise on her shin, and Zach had gotten a handful of his hair nearly yanked out of his head by his older sister, before she was finally ready to leave. She had given her grandfather, mother and littlest brother a kiss goodbye before heading out. Her father wouldn't even be home for another hour, but she did call him and remind him to eat something before he went to sleep for the day and that she loved him.

                        She pulled into the school parking lot and headed straight for her spot in the Senior section of the student spaces. No, it wasn't anything official, but God help the underclassman who got caught parking in the senior area. It was one thing all the cliques could agree on: NO underclassmen vehicles allowed. She put her cap on, jammed out to the last few seconds of the song, and turned off the 'Beast'. Grabbing the rest of her things, she dropped the foot to the ground, spun around, and did her best Michael Jackson toe pose. Thankfully, she was the only one in her area of the parking lot at the time.

                        Finally ready to face the day, Winnie began walking towards the building, swaying slightly and tapping her fingers on her Frappe to the beat of the song that she had managed to embed firmly into her head. Nobody could blame her if she did a few more poses or threw in a hip wiggle here or there on her way to her locker.





Dude! I drank, like, ten shots of tequila!
Whooooo!!
-Today, Nikki Sixx drank heroin from a fire hose.-
Dude, I feel like a total pansy...

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>>>
I'm not gonna change the way I look or the
way I feel to conform to anything. I've always
been a freak. So I'll be a freak all my life
and I have to live with that, y'know?
I'm one of those people.
<<<


When you wake up in the back of a van you somehow managed to park in your front yard all the way on the other side of town from the party you had been playing at last night without a warrant out for your arrest and a very hot someone wrapped around you under the covers, you kind of feel a little smug. And maybe just a bit hung over, too. That's why, when Brooklyn Linden finally woke up, pulling himself upright and rubbing sleep and eye liner out of his eyes, he had about a minute and a half of 'Well well, ain't I just the s**t?' before the ringing in his ears finally caught up with him. "God...ugh. Wake up, Cookie." he said in a croaky voice. More croak than voice, actually.

The blonde under the blanket stirred and slowly woke up as Lenny was moving around the back of his van, collecting various articles of clothing and either tossing them at the lump or pulling them on until all the clothes had been sorted and the blonde lump had pushed the blanket off and sat up. It didn't take long for him to sort out what had happened. "Uh..heh heh .. L-Lenny? Did..uh..did something h-happen last night?" Liam picked his underwear out of the pile of his clothes and pulled them on under the covers, his cheeks bright pink. "D'y'think somethin' happened, Cookie?" asked Lenny, draining a random bottle of water he'd found near the front seat and tossing another one at Liam, who drank it gratefully before looking around the back of the van.

"Well..uh...I think I remember a bunch of us getting drunk at Mattie and Alfie's last night. And I kinda remember us making out. After that..nothing." he finally said, turning to Lenny for clarification as he stood, wincing, to finish getting dressed in last night's clothes. The older boy snickered quietly. "Well, babe, if that wince has anything t'do with a sharp pain in your a**, then, yeah, somthin' happened." he laughed, pushing open the van's back doors and dropping the foot and a half to the ground. "You make some really cute noises, by the way." Liam groaned quietly as he finished tying his shoes and followed Lenny to the house. "Now, try to be kinda quiet. Aunt Ray sleeps kinda li-"

"Mornin', boys."

Liam yelped and grabbed onto Lenny's arm, and Lenny put his free hand over his throat, his knee jerk reaction to fright or surprise. Brenda and Rachel, the Aunts We Aren't Related To, were sitting at the coffee table in their pajamas, drinking coffee and orange juice respectively. Rachel's eyes were glued to Good Morning America, and she and Brenda were holding hands. Brenda looked the teens up and down, laughed, and waved them off. Lenny shook his head as well, and half-dragged Liam upstairs to his room. "His clothes from last week are on your bed." Brenda called up after them, causing Lenny to blush.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Once they had both taken a less than five minute shower and changed out of their rumpled and smelly party clothes into clean and slightly less rumpled clothes to face the day in, they said good bye to Brenda and Rachel and piled back into the van to go find breakfast and people to bother. Lenny had done his best to avoid joking about the night before, and Liam had mostly come to terms with the fact that, yes, he had finally slept with his oldest friend. Things became less awkward as they drove on, talking about music and sports and music as they usually did.

"No ********' way. Slash ain't got nothin' on Joe Perry." said Lenny as he pulled the van into the parking lot of the cafe he usually got his hangover coffee from. Liam shook his head. "You're delusional. Ask anyone! Seriously. A-ask-ask Moss." said Liam as he spotted his friend across the semi-crowded cafe. Lenny nodded in the Nerd Friend of Cookie's direction as he ordered two hangover coffees. "Alright, maybe I will. Hey, Daily! Who's better? Aerosmith or Guns'n'Roses?" he called out as Liam went to Morrissey's table and took a seat. Lenny came over a minute later and gave Liam his coffee before sitting down. He gave the girls, some slightly familiar looking, in the back a rakish grin before turning back to Morrissey.

[[ooc: fail post is fail. but at least we all know that both Liam and Guy-Brooklyn swing both ways. heh heh. couldn't resist. also, i just figured out that the prep and the rocker are both named Brooklyn. very funny and possibly a conversation topic that could have spiked interest at the 'party'.]]


Hey, you. No, not you.
You. Over there. Yes, you!
Do you like coffee?
Cuz we could totally go get some.
I drive a van.
...
Yeah, no, she doesn't like vans.

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Joey Ladner

The sun's gone down and it's still so hot!
Doesn't it ever cool off around here?

Naw. This time ah year, it's hotter 'n'tha hinges ah Hell.
...-beat-...
But we got stars.



                          First day of school! Most teenagers hated the first day of school, except for the new clothes, new supplies, and old friends, and Joey couldn't blame them. Nothing but introductions, going over the same rules they'd all heard a thousand times before, taking those stupid little quizzes that told the teachers how much you remembered and how much you needed to learn. But because of the long standing tradition of starting on a Friday, the weekend was here. And since the coach was mostly focused on training new players and weeding out the punks who couldn't make the cut, all the seniors and juniors had to do was run laps and go home. Or, if you were one of Luke aka Tater Tot's friends, which most of the senior and junior classes were, you were invited to a bonfire in the clearing out behind his house.

                          As it were, the seniors of the offence were at the lead of the laps. Heading them off were Tater Tot, Joey, Ronnie, Chief, and Cooter. The five of them, and Joey's cousin, Sissy, had been friends since the second grade. Always playing together at recess, always in the same classes. They went to dances and parties together. So it only made since that they would all, except Sissy, join the football team.

                          "So you goin' to the bonfire tonight, J?" asked Dante aka Chief as he jogged next to the quarterback. Joey shrugged. "Yeah, prolly." Tater laughed. "What do y'mean 'prolly'? You always go to my bonfires."

                          They came to the end of the run and the cheerleaders started handing out water. Sissy came up with a grin. Joey wiped the sweat off his face and flicked it at her. "a**." she said, squirting her water bottle at him. "b***h." he countered with a grin, dodging the water. Sissy laughed and turned to Tater, who bent down and kissed her cheek. "I invited the new girl to the bonfire. I hope that was ok, seein' as how it's always been you're thing." One of the last true Southern belles, Sissy wasn't afraid to work her feminine charm on Tater, who she'd been dating for three years straight. And it worked every time. "Naw, baby, it's cool. 'Course she's cool t'come."

                          Cooter nodded sagely. "Yeah, she's totally hot." said Cooter. Ronnie grinned. "Well, darlin's, I must take my leave. Some of us have jobs, you know." he said, blowing a kiss to Chief and Joey before linking arms with Cooter. "C'mon, chick. I'm y'ride home." Cooter sighed. "Alright, guys. We'll see y'all at the party. Text me when y'all get to my house, Sis." she said as Ronnie dragged her away.

                          Joey nodded to Chief. "Go tell Coach we're gonna take off." he said, wiping his face off with Sissy's towel. "Me 'nd Sissy promised Uncle Pink we'd work on the tractor before we left." Chief huffed. "Why it always gotta be me?" Joey raised his eyebrow. "Because you're black and I'm team captain." he deadpanned. Chief rolled his eyes, but his grin nearly split his face.. "A'ight, Captain. Y'all be good now. See y'at the clearing'." Tater Tot gave Sissy one last kiss. "Tell y'mom'n'em me and mine say hey." he said, even though he'd only been at their house for dinner last week. They parted ways to get ready.

                          =+=+=+=

                          The windows in Joey's truck were rolled down, and classic rock spilled out. Music was something the two almost siblings never argued about. Not to say they weren't arguing at the moment. "I'm serious, Sis. No more of your set ups, alright? I don't want any serious girlfriends for senior year." Sissy huffed back in her seat. "But if you just give her a chance, I'm sure you'll like her. Hey." She leaned forward as a girl walking with her bookbag caught her attention. "That's the new girl. Hey, Elena!" she called out the window, motioning for Joey to pull the car over. "Hey, you need a ride somewhere? This heat is crazy today." she said brightly. "Oh, by the way. I don't think y'all've met yet. This is my cousin, Joey. Joseph, this is Elena Hopkins." Joey gave an embarrassed sort of wave. How y'doin', Miz Hopkins. he said politely.


                          [[ooc: there are links in the two side banners and the top banner. sorry it took so long. my fiance and i had a date.]]
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                    HENRY ALLAN ROTHSCHILD

                          Last name: Ever / First name: Greatest / Like a sprained ankle, boy, I ain't nothing to play with /

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                                              Henry shook his head as Gavin, one of the few guys in the Junior and Senior classes he hadn't slept with, told him he should go talk to the homophobe. "Seriously, Gavin, I think you're losin' it, man." he said, pulling on the white tank top that was part of the boys' gym clothes, next to the shorts that everyone tried to order at least a size too large. Safety precaution, of course. "I mean, c'mon. What good would come from talking with him? It ain't like he's gonna renounce his straightness for me." He hesitated for a second, took a glance at the new guy, and grinned. "Not like I wouldn't welcome the chance to convert him." He and a few of the other guys around him, his fan club or so they called themselves, laughed quietly as he laced up his shoes and lead the way out of the locker room, leaving all the non-followers to continue on with whatever they were doing.

                                              :-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:


                                              "Alright everyone. Three sets of bleachers. Running. After that, free play." said the coach as she finished checking the last few students off the roster. Henry heard groaning around him, and he resisted the urge to pout himself. Bleachers. The cruelest exercise a gym teacher could give, especially considering the scope of their school's bleachers. It was terrifying at times. And running bleachers, that was just torture, because, not only did you have to go up and down the bleachers on both sides three times each to just count as one pass, you had to run them at break neck speed. Run down concrete stairs. It took practice and skill.

                                              "Let's go people! We don't have all day! And if I catch you walking them, you're running laps tomorrow instead of push-ups." shouted Coach Ladner, goading most of the students into a half-hearted jog. Henry shoved one of his earbuds in, that he'd threaded up the front of his shirt, and turned up his favorite running song. Die hard Saints fan, he was, something he'd picked up from his very Southern mother. It didn't necessarily have a good even beat, but it made him smile. And, unlike most of the kids around here, he wasn't much of a techno fan. He liked rap. So, with his music in place, he started at a jog towards the first set of stairs. Up he ran fifty four steps, twenty seven rows of seats, and his legs burned. A good burn.





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I was raised around heterosexuals,
as most people are. That's where us gay people
come from... you heterosexuals.
>> Ellen Degeneres

YOU CAN'T SEE ME
YOU CAN'T SEE ME
YOU CAN'T SEE ME
YOU CAN'T SEE ME

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