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	чσυ вєℓσиg ωιтн мє [private] Go to post	4	Invitation-only RP	Wed Aug 12, 2009 7:32 pm
»Dimitri Colin Juansy« →but you can call me ; Dimmy, but preferably Dimitri, thanks. →i'm not a kid anymore ; Eighteen years young. →buy me something nice on ; July fifteenth Loud × Out-there × Athletic
	чσυ вєℓσиg ωιтн мє [private] Go to post	4	Invitation-only RP	Wed Aug 12, 2009 7:05 am
http://dl10.glitter-graphics.net/pub/1026/1026880tn2f7ztzqg.jpg profiles (no stealing): [align=center][img]malformed image url rounded corners[/img][/align] [align=center][size=25][color=postcolour][u][color=grey][color=postcolour]»[/color]insert full name[color=postcolour]«[/color][/color][/size][/u][/color][/align] 15]→postcolour]but you can call me ;[/size][/color] [size=11][u][color=grey]nickname(s)[/color][/u][/size] 15]→postcolour]i'm not a kid anymore ;[/size][/color] 11][u][color=grey]age ie: eighteen years old[/u][/color] 15]→postcolour]buy me something nice on ;[/size][/color] [size=11][u][color=grey]birth date, year optional[/u][/color] [align=center][size=30][color=postcolour][u][color=grey]personality trait[/color] [color=postcolour]insert symbol[/color] [color=grey]personality trait[/color] [color=postcolour]insert symbol[/color] [color=grey]personality trait[/color][/align]
	вıg cıτy dяεαмs [private] Go to post	4	Invitation-only RP	Wed Aug 12, 2009 6:54 am
❝a d e n ♪ e v e n i s o n❞ →I'm not lovin' you the way I wanted to What I had to do, I had to run from you I'm in love with you but the vibe is wrong And it haunted me all the way home← New York, New York. The Big Apple. The city that never sleeps. So many names for one overly populated city. Aden Calvin Evenison, a small town boy who fell for one of Aberdeen, Washington's most beautiful girls; Josephine Mariella Bennett. They fell for each other hard back in their high school days at Aberdeen High. Like most couples, they had broken up but gotten together again. High school seemed to end as quickly as it started, with Aden and Josie standing side by side till the end, still unsure of what to do with themselves. The two had planned on moving out of Aberdeen ASAP, and so they did. Aden had thought about the story of how him and Josie had moved out of Aberdeen against their parents' and friends' wishes, and to New York. Aden rolled over on the warm bed that he shared with his girlfriend, seeing her face close next to his, still with the mask of innocence from sleep. The nineteen year old boy looked from Josie's sleeping eyes, to her soft mouth. He smiled slightly to himself and mustered up the willingness to get out of the bed. Aden looked around the very small apartment, wishing that they had the money to buy a better one that fit them. The apartment had a view of the brick wall that was the building next door, there was no real "master bedroom", just a big open space that turned into the bedroom/living room. The boy walked through the small apartment to the even smaller kitchen, where the coffee maker was already brewing. Aden looked around for a moment, examining the place; they needed more money soon, and fast. They were behind on some bills, like for the cable. Aden didn't dwell too much on the topic of money most of the time, he just liked thinking that he and Josie were right on cue with the bills, even when they weren't. The boy watched the coffee maker brew his Guatemalan coffee, waiting for the soft beep to sound. Aden stood in the kitchen, wearing only his blue plaid boxers, and looked towards one of the twin windows that sat on the eastern wall. Beep. Aden turned slowly to the coffee maker, which was signaling that the coffee was done. The nineteen year old took the coffee pot, one of the many mugs that laid out on the counter, and poured himself some joe. Aden wasn't particularly a coffee-guy (he preferred tea, mostly), but on mornings where he needed a little extra caffeine boost, he'd take up the coffee and down it in a minute. Ade sipped his brew, feeling his brown eyes water slightly as the coffee burned his tongue and throat, and walked towards the very small closet that held his and Josie's belongings. There were some clothes thrown upon the floor, others still lay intact on a rack. Most of Aden's clothes were on hangers; he liked to keep his side of the closet pretty clean, though there were a few shirts and some socks of his that he put on the floor. Aden sipped his warm coffee, which steamed into his nostrils. The coffee tasted bitter, but good as it ran down Ade's throat. The boy licked his lips as he walked slowly through the closet, trying to decide what to wear to work. Aden worked at a bank as one of the tellers, and it wasn't a horrible job; just boring. He got hit on every so often, sometimes even by older women that were in their forties or fifties. Scary. Clothes lined up on the wall, Aden's shirts fading from bright colours to more whitish colours. The boy's light brown hair began to drift slowly down his forehead, threatening to block his vision. Aden ran his hand through his tangled mess of hiar, wincing as a snarl caught on of his fingers, causing his scalp pain. Ade pulled his fingers out of his hair, seeing a few unattached pieces hanging limply in his hand. The boy sighed, shut his eyes, and pressed his palms to his lids. Aden breathed in and out deeply for a moment, squinting his brown eyes at the light the cast shadows across the closet. Aden looked through his squinted lids, trying to tell one shirt from another finally deciding on a light blue polo shirt from Macy's. Being a teller at a bank, Aden had to dress fairly well, and didn't really like it much. He always felt uncomfortable in his work clothes and preferred a normal tee shirt and jeans over a fancy button-up with a tie and slacks any day. As Aden pulled the polo over his head, he finally remembered that he needed a shower first. The nineteen year old sighed loudly, pulled the polo off, and headed for the small bathroom. The bathroom was small, white, and had no decorations. Aden and Josie had two towel bars, didn't bother to make the sink look very nice, and the shower... Well, it didn't look its best. The boy grabbed one of the towels on his rack, slung it over the shower curtain and turned the hot water on. Once the water was at Aden's satisfaction, the boy stripped off his boxers and stepped into the steaming shower. The nineteen year old washed his mane of hair, detangling it painfully with his fingers, then took his Axe Hair and Body wash and began to wash his body. Aden finished up quickly in the shower, hoping that he wasn't going to be late to work again, grabbed his white towel and stumbled out of the shower. The dirty mirror was fogged up, with small amounts of condensation building up in the corners and running down in small streams of water. Aden wrapped the soft towel around his hips and dragged his forearm against the mirror. His hair was wet and sticking up in various places, while his face seemed to look a bit better. His skin was clear, and olive-toned, slightly tanned but not too much. He had a few freckles along his nose and cheekbones, but they were barely noticeable unless you were an inch away from his face. Aden chewed on the inside of his cheek, turned on his heel and walked quietly out of the bathroom. The boy walked back into the closet, picked up a pair of SpongeBob boxers and put them on. Ade dropped his towel on the floor, then picked up the light blue polo and pulled it roughly over his head. The nineteen year old looked around for a moment in the dim lit closet, deciding on a more skinny jean-like black slacks that he usually hung low on his narrow hips. Once Aden was fully dressed, including socks, he walked out of the closet slowly to the kitchen, dreading to see the time. '8:47 AM' the black iHome said as it sat next to the coffee maker. Aden winced; he had to be at work by nine. The boy ran to the bathroom, examining his hair which still stuck up in an ugly manor. Aden groaned and grabbed a bottle of hairspray, flattening the few pieces that stuck up with the sticky mess of the hairspray. Aden ran back out of the bathroom and into his and Josie's room, grabbing his iPhone and kissed Josie swiftly on the lips, then darting out of the apartment.
	mine mine mine! no posting! Go to post	13	Test Forum	Mon Aug 10, 2009 5:05 pm
❝a d e n ♪ e v e n i s o n❞ →I'm not lovin' you the way I wanted to What I had to do, I had to run from you I'm in love with you but the vibe is wrong And it haunted me all the way home← New York, New York. The Big Apple. The city that never sleeps. So many names for one overly populated city. Aden Calvin Evenison, a small town boy who fell for one of Aberdeen, Washington's most beautiful girls; Josephine Mariella Bennett. They fell for each other hard back in their high school days at Aberdeen High. Like most couples, they had broken up but gotten together again. High school seemed to end as quickly as it started, with Aden and Josie standing side by side till the end, still unsure of what to do with themselves. The two had planned on moving out of Aberdeen ASAP, and so they did. Aden had thought about the story of how him and Josie had moved out of Aberdeen against their parents' and friends' wishes, and to New York. Aden rolled over on the warm bed that he shared with his girlfriend, seeing her face close next to his, still with the mask of innocence from sleep. The nineteen year old boy looked from Josie's sleeping eyes, to her soft mouth. He smiled slightly to himself and mustered up the willingness to get out of the bed. Aden looked around the very small apartment, wishing that they had the money to buy a better one that fit them. The apartment had a view of the brick wall that was the building next door, there was no real "master bedroom", just a big open space that turned into the bedroom/living room. The boy walked through the small apartment to the even smaller kitchen, where the coffee maker was already brewing. Aden looked around for a moment, examining the place; they needed more money soon, and fast. They were behind on some bills, like for the cable. Aden didn't dwell too much on the topic of money most of the time, he just liked thinking that he and Josie were right on cue with the bills, even when they weren't. The boy watched the coffee maker brew his Guatemalan coffee, waiting for the soft beep to sound. Aden stood in the kitchen, wearing only his blue plaid boxers, and looked towards one of the twin windows that sat on the eastern wall. Beep. Aden turned slowly to the coffee maker, which was signaling that the coffee was done. The nineteen year old took the coffee pot, one of the many mugs that laid out on the counter, and poured himself some joe. Aden wasn't particularly a coffee-guy (he preferred tea, mostly), but on mornings where he needed a little extra caffeine boost, he'd take up the coffee and down it in a minute. Ade sipped his brew, feeling his brown eyes water slightly as the coffee burned his tongue and throat, and walked towards the very small closet that held his and Josie's belongings. There were some clothes thrown upon the floor, others still lay intact on a rack. Most of Aden's clothes were on hangers; he liked to keep his side of the closet pretty clean, though there were a few shirts and some socks of his that he put on the floor. Aden sipped his warm coffee, which steamed into his nostrils. The coffee tasted bitter, but good as it ran down Ade's throat. The boy licked his lips as he walked slowly through the closet, trying to decide what to wear to work. Aden worked at a bank as one of the tellers, and it wasn't a horrible job; just boring. He got hit on every so often, sometimes even by older women that were in their forties or fifties. Scary. Clothes lined up on the wall, Aden's shirts fading from bright colours to more whitish colours. The boy's light brown hair began to drift slowly down his forehead, threatening to block his vision. Aden ran his hand through his tangled mess of hiar, wincing as a snarl caught on of his fingers, causing his scalp pain. Ade pulled his fingers out of his hair, seeing a few unattached pieces hanging limply in his hand. The boy sighed, shut his eyes, and pressed his palms to his lids. Aden breathed in and out deeply for a moment, squinting his brown eyes at the light the cast shadows across the closet. Aden looked through his squinted lids, trying to tell one shirt from another finally deciding on a light blue polo shirt from Macy's. Being a teller at a bank, Aden had to dress fairly well, and didn't really like it much. He always felt uncomfortable in his work clothes and preferred a normal tee shirt and jeans over a fancy button-up with a tie and slacks any day. As Aden pulled the polo over his head, he finally remembered that he needed a shower first. The nineteen year old sighed loudly, pulled the polo off, and headed for the small bathroom. The bathroom was small, white, and had no decorations. Aden and Josie had two towel bars, didn't bother to make the sink look very nice, and the shower... Well, it didn't look its best. The boy grabbed one of the towels on his rack, slung it over the shower curtain and turned the hot water on. Once the water was at Aden's satisfaction, the boy stripped off his boxers and stepped into the steaming shower. The nineteen year old washed his mane of hair, detangling it painfully with his fingers, then took his Axe Hair and Body wash and began to wash his body. Aden finished up quickly in the shower, hoping that he wasn't going to be late to work again, grabbed his white towel and stumbled out of the shower. The dirty mirror was fogged up, with small amounts of condensation building up in the corners and running down in small streams of water. Aden wrapped the soft towel around his hips and dragged his forearm against the mirror. His hair was wet and sticking up in various places, while his face seemed to look a bit better. His skin was clear, and olive-toned, slightly tanned but not too much. He had a few freckles along his nose and cheekbones, but they were barely noticeable unless you were an inch away from his face. Aden chewed on the inside of his cheek, turned on his heel and walked quietly out of the bathroom. The boy walked back into the closet, picked up a pair of SpongeBob boxers and put them on. Ade dropped his towel on the floor, then picked up the light blue polo and pulled it roughly over his head. The nineteen year old looked around for a moment in the dim lit closet, deciding on a more skinny jean-like black slacks that he usually hung low on his narrow hips. Once Aden was fully dressed, including socks, he walked out of the closet slowly to the kitchen, dreading to see the time. '8:47 AM' the black iHome said as it sat next to the coffee maker. Aden winced; he had to be at work by nine. The boy ran to the bathroom, examining his hair which still stuck up in an ugly manor. Aden groaned and grabbed a bottle of hairspray, flattening the few pieces that stuck up with the sticky mess of the hairspray. Aden ran back out of the bathroom and into his and Josie's room, grabbing his iPhone and kissed Josie swiftly on the lips, then darting out of the apartment.
	m a s q u e r a d e {private} Go to post	6	Invitation-only RP	Mon Aug 10, 2009 6:22 am
»Ginevra Molly Weasley« →but you can call me ; Ginny →i'm not a kid anymore ; Fourteen →buy me something nice on ; August Eleventh stubborn × boyish × defiant
	τogετнεя ατ ℓαsτ [private!] Go to post	4	The Gaian Neighborhood	Sat Aug 01, 2009 1:35 am
──────────────────┐ → j a c o b b l a c k ← └────────────────── Seeing a horse-sized, russet coloured wolf would freak anyone out. This wolf ran through one of the many forests in the rainy Olympic Peninsula, his big paws pounding on the ground, but making barely a sound. Jacob Black was gaining speed, as he heard his best friend, Quil, telling him that he was on his tail. Jacob sped up, wanting to race his friend; Jacob was the fastest wolf in his pack, and every knew it... Except for Leah. She still claimed that she was the fastest wolf because she is smaller and can run easier, although everyone else knew that she was in denial. Jacob Black was no ordinary boy; no, not at all. He was part werewolf, even though that wasn't necessarily the correct tern; lycan was more like it. This tanned Indian boy didn't change into a wolf unwillingly at a full moon, he changed whenever he pleased. The little town of Forks knew that there were giant wolves in the forest, and for a while, the pack was blamed for the deaths that two vampires were really doing. Jacob and his pack had killed one of the vampires, by ripping them apart limb by limb, then burning all of the pieces. Vampires didn't smell very nice either; sickly sweet, although to humans, they smelled like the best perfume you could smell. The wolves were the the only "magical" creatures that lived in the area for a while; there was a coven of "vegetarian" vampires that lived in Forks. They considered themselves as vegetarians because they didn't feed on humans, they fed on animals like bears and mountain lions. Jacob thought that either way, they were sick, for he was both a human and an animal. Not always the easiest thing, as he's realized. Jacob had told only one person what he really was, and that was Bella Swan. Bella was Jacob's best friend, and vice verse. Jake didn't feel like they were friends, though. He liked Bella way more than just that; he loved her. Jake never told Bella this, because while he was realizing what she was to him, she was off dating a good-for-nothing vampire, who left her. Jacob felt like he needed to kill that vampire for breaking Bella's heart, and leaving her so raw, and almost unrepairable. Jacob had worked very slowly to get her to open up to him about how she felt about Edward Cullen leaving her, and got pretty far, though, Bella soon brought a wall up that closed Jake off from reaching out to her again. As Jake bounded through the forest that seemed to never end, he kept feeling his mind changing direction to thinking about Bella. They rest of the pack could read each others' minds in they're wolf form, and it was very embarrassing to be thinking about the girl you like when they're hearing everything you're thinking. Jacob slowed for a moment, shaking his big, furry head, then kept running, hearing a distant wolf breathing as it slowly caught up to the russet wolf. Jake slowed as he heard Quil coming up behind him, until he was at a full stop. His giant lungs were taking in deep, slow breaths of the cool, humid mountain air as another set of paws pranced up next to Jake. 'That's not fair, you stopped!' Quil thought to Jake. The russet wolf shrugged his big shoulders, and made his common wolfy grin. Quil snapped his jaws at Jake playfully, then began walking off into forest again. The russet wolf shook his head, and began jogging west, towards civilization was, but more importantly, where Bella was. The giant wolf began heading west, feeling the wind whip at his shaggy fur; Jacob needed a haircut again, and quite badly. Jake's hair was almost shoulder length, in his human form. He liked it shorter so it wouldn't get into his black eyes. The wolf knew that Bella would most likely either be at her house still, or she'd be at Jake's house with his father; Bella was there a lot of the time, even when Jake wasn't. Jacob liked the thought of Bella being at his house, mostly because that meant that they would hang out, and for other reasons that he wasn't allowed to think about in his wolf form. As the russet wolf ran through the forest, his thought lingered on Bella, but not until he found a denser part of the forest. Jake bounded towards that crowded spot, grabbed the sweatpants that were strapped around his left front foot, threw them on the ground, then changed into his human form. Jake never entirely liked the feeling of changing in between human and wolf; to him, it felt like his skin was ripping away, which was basically what happened to him and his pack. Jake felt his fur suck back into his flesh as his tanned skin began to show through the thick, russet coloured fur. Once Jacob was fully transformed, which only took a few seconds, he grabbed the pair of sweatpants that he left on the ground by a tall pine tree, slipped them over his legs and pulled them up to a comfortably on his hips. The boy began walking out of the forest, realizing that he was much closer to the edge of the forest than he realized. Jacob usually walked around with no shirt on and most people had gotten used to that if they knew him, but otherwise he looked completely mental walking around with no shirt in Washington. But, Jake wasn't afraid to show off his body; he had even caught Bella staring at his chest a few times. The boy smiled to himself as he walked onto a road that was surrounded by the forest, but the ocean as well. Jacob headed in the direction of his house, not giving a care to the people who stared at the muscles as they drove by. ❝the big bad werewolf❞ jacob
	mine mine mine! no posting! Go to post	13	Test Forum	Sat Aug 01, 2009 12:22 am
────────────────┐ ❝J'ai fait des choses que la plupart des gens n'oseraient pas faire.❞ └──────────────── Paris, oh Paris. The place known for love, known for beauty, and known for fashion. To this young de l'homme, Paris was his home. Paris was known for many things, and most people sought out the common things. For people like Alexandre Feledéno, he sought out things that were beautiful; not meaning the Eiffel Tower. Meaning the little things that everyone takes for granted, like a cup of coffee, or a café. The camera was perched on its stand, clicking and snapping, flashes of light coming from it. Alexandre looked up, opening his right eye again, and looked at a very short girl with blonde hair, seeming to be walking away from the Eiffel Tower, without even getting on the elevator. Most people would stay up there for the longest time before they would finally come down on the elevator, then talking excitedly about the view. Alexandre watched thoughtfully as the short blonde girl walked over to the comfort of a tree, her camera swinging around, strapped to her neck. The girl seemed to be scared of the Eiffel Tower; she looked as if she were debating with herself whether she should go on the elevator ride up there or not. Alexandre, personally, had been on the Eiffel Tower many times, taking perfect pictures of the vast landscape that seemed to never end that high up in the air. Alexandre tore his gaze away from the blonde girl, and grabbed his water bottle, which had been sitting on the grass next to his black backpack, which carried everything he needed; lens cleaner, more zoom settings, two different cameras, another water bottle, and a neck strap. As Alexandre watched the short blonde girl, he leaned down into his camera again, and snapped a picture of her; the breeze blew her blonde hair back from her face making her features more prominent without all of her hair shielding her facial features. The long shot of the picture looked like a normal girl walking, but close up to her face, her eyes were an obvious blue, and she didn't look like most ordinary girls. Anyone who had seen that picture might think that Alexandre was a little crazy for snapping a picture of a girl he didn't even know; but that wasn't his concern. She had an unusual face, high cheekbones, round nose, and a strong jaw. On other girls, that may look drag queen-esque, but on her it looked good. Alexandre saw as the girl moved closer to the café across the street from the Tower, where many tourists visited because the waiters and waitresses spoke English and French. Alexandre leaned down clumsily , knocking over his camera; it almost fell on a couple that was passing, talking about how tall the Tower was. "Désolé." He said with a small smile. The couple frowned down at him, muttering about Alexandre's klutziness. Alexandre leaned down carefully this time, and began taking his camera off of its stand, and folding the stand up so it would fit into his black backpack. The twenty-two year old reached into the backpack for a moment, feeling his way around the jumble that was in there, until he found his neck strap. Alexandre clipped the strap onto his Nikon, grabbed a strap on his backpack, slung it lazily over his shoulder, and made his way over to the café. The café was fairy busy for a Monday afternoon; the outside of the café had people crowding around to get inside, apparently word had gotten around that it was one of the only cafés that spoke English. Alexandre brushed by many of the Americans who talked too loudly about the Tower and Paris in general, mutter his apologies for bumping into a few of the larger sized people. Alexandre sat down at an open table, and looked at the small line that waited to be seated inside. The Grain de Café had never been so busy, as far as Alexandre knew. It was a popular spot, yes, but never overflowing with costumers. He looked around for a moment, trying to find a blonde-haired girl when an overweight woman in a too low-cut shirt walked in front of his table, and scooting it into his ribcage. "Sorry, hun." The overweight woman with an ugly smile, chewing her gum, said loudly. Alexandre smiled slightly at her, nodding his head curtly. "D'you speak any English, hun?" The woman said slowly smiling broadly. "Yes, I do." Alexandre said, trying to look around her. "Oh, goodie! Well, could ya tell me where the little girls' room is?" The lady said. Alexandre sighed and nodded. "Inside, to the left of the counter. You'll see a sign that says 'femme de chambre'." Alexandre said, gesturing his right hand towards the café. The woman smiled at Alexandre again, and nodded. "Thanks, hun." She said, chewing her gum very loudly. Once the overweight woman waddled into the café, Alexandre resumed looking for the blonde girl. Alexandre hadn't entirely paid attention to what she was wearing, in case she was standing up, so he kept his gaze up on the faces of the many tourists stuffing themselves into the little café. Alexandre sighed, momentarily giving up on looking for her, then picked up his Nikon, and began looking through the pictures that he had taken. There were only a few on there, but Alexandre liked to examine his work from the past morning. Alexandre finished looking through his pictures, remembering the critiques that he had gotten at his last art show, where he had put up his best pictures. The twenty-two year old looked around once again, then finally spotted her; she was sitting alone at her table, which gave Alexandre a burst of confidence that made him stand up, and walk over to her table. He sat down in the chair across from her and smiled politely. "Bonjour, Je suis Alexandre." He said plainly. ────────────────┐ ❝I have done things that most people wouldn't dare to do.❞ └──────────────── [ translations** de l'homme: man's \| désolé: sorry \| Bonjour, Je suis Alexandre: Hello, I am Alexandre ] ───────────────────── ────────────────┐ ❝J'ai fait des choses que la plupart des gens n'oseraient pas faire.❞ └──────────────── As Alexandre sat across from the short blonde girl, apparently named Juniper, he smiled slightly. She was cute; seemed like the kind of girl that likes to be the best at everything. "Well," Alexandre said, his French accent curling around his words. "You seem to know a little French." Alexandre leaned back into his chair, watching Juniper's face. He still couldn't think of why he was so interested in her; she was young, very young by the looks of it, and short. Alexandre wasn't interested in short girls a lot of the time; he liked girls that were around five foot six inches, or five foot seven inches. Juniper was tiny. The breeze kicked in, billowing everything; Juniper's hair seemed to flow with it, and Alexandre fought his urge to pick up his camera, and get a picture before the wind died. Even to him, taking pictures of someone he didn't know was creepy, unless it was a model, of course. Models, though, were stuck up and after they ate, most of them went off into the bathroom, and very plainly vomited up their lunch. Not attractive. Alexandre still remembered the day he got his first camera; a mere eleven year old, telling his mother that he wanted to become a photographer, and a famous one. Three days later, his wish came true... Mostly. He got a camera, and began taking pictures of everything that seemed to have a light behind it that made it seem beautiful, even a water bottle. Alexandre's mother framed the first picture that he took that was gorgeous; it was of the moon around nine o'clock at night, the moon was rising in the sky, but a cloud blocked part of it. A few trees surrounded the silver moon, making them dark silhouettes as the moon illuminated everything else. Alexandre had loved that picture, and even put in one of his art shows; he got many good critiques, and most of the people were taken aback when Alexandre told them that he was just eleven when he took the picture. The moon with the cloud over it soon became Alexandre's favourite symbol, and even spray painted it on his wall in his mother's house. He wasn't a great artist, but luckily he was okay when it came to spray painting; he managed to make the moon with the cloud over it look pretty good. The twenty-two year old remembered the spray paint vandalism he had done back in his more rebellious days with his no-good friends. Alexandre shook his head a little; he didn't really like to think about those days, considering that they were some of the worst in his life. As Alexandre looked at Juniper again, he looked straight into her eyes, as if he were swimming in them. She had the kind of eyes that some photographers loved, they were almond shaped, a striking blue, and she didn't really were makeup, as far as Alexandre could tell. ────────────────┐ ❝I have done things that most people wouldn't dare to do.❞ └──────────────── ───────────────────── ────────────────┐ ❝J'ai fait des choses que la plupart des gens n'oseraient pas faire.❞ └──────────────── Alexandre narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched Juniper stumble over her words. He felt his lips stretch out into a closed mouthed smile as Juniper stuttered about the French hating Americans, and how Alexandre probably had better things to do, when in truth, he really didn't. Most of his days consisted of going around Paris, snapping random pictures of beauty that he caught at random moments. Sometimes Alexandre would get good pictures of the sun shining behind trees, making them black silhouettes against the bright blue sky. Sometimes Alexandre would get pictures of random people that stuck out to the twenty-two year old boy. Alexandre had gotten caught by a very pretty brunette girl while he tried to sneak a photograph of her, and she confronted him, but not in a mad way; she wanted him to take more pictures. Alexandre, of course being the sweetheart that he was, couldn't say no and ended up to a random photoshoot in a park towards the outskirts of Paris. "I, personally, don't hate the Americans," Alexandre said, a smirk playing on his lips. "I don't see anything wrong with them, which explains why I'm talking to you, for instance." The twenty-two year old couldn't help but chuckle at Juniper; she was a very interesting girl, interesting indeed. Alexandre focused his gaze on her facial features, admiring her full lips, round nose, blue eyes, and the blonde hair that fanned out around her. The boy still didn't understand why he was talking to her in the first place; it was obvious that she was a gorgeous girl, but Alexandre didn't talk to most beautiful girls unless he knew them, or unless they started up the conversation first. Alexandre had almost never gone up to a girl to make a move of any kind; he preferred to get to know her before hanging out in cafés or at clubs. Even after Alexandre has gotten to know a girl, he usually took a while to muster up the courage to talk to that girl again. Sure, Alexandre looked like the kind of guy that could snap his fingers, and have a new girlfriend, but that wasn't who he was, or what he believed in. Alexandre believed in actually getting to know a girl before looking at her appearance. His beliefs hadn't gotten him very far with girls, but he's had longer relationships than most of his friends. Alexandre finally tore his mind away from the faces of his past girlfriends floating through his artistic mind when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. His friend Dimitri had been, apparently, trying to reach Alexandre for the past hour. The twenty-two year old checked the clock on his phone, and it showed that it was 1:17 PM. Dimitri had sent Alexandre five text messages asking in French where Alexandre was and if he could go over to Dimitri's apartment around three that afternoon. Alexandre texted his friend back quickly, saying that he probably could, and would see him, Dimitri, later. Alexandre shut his cell phone, and looked back up at Juniper, waiting for her response. ────────────────┐ ❝I have done things that most people wouldn't dare to do.❞ └────────────────
	its a ƒoяεıgи world out there [private] Go to post	9	The Gaian Neighborhood	Sat Aug 01, 2009 12:20 am
────────────────┐ ❝J'ai fait des choses que la plupart des gens n'oseraient pas faire.❞ └──────────────── As Alexandre sat across from the short blonde girl, apparently named Juniper, he smiled slightly. She was cute; seemed like the kind of girl that likes to be the best at everything. "Well," Alexandre said, his French accent curling around his words. "You seem to know a little French." Alexandre leaned back into his chair, watching Juniper's face. He still couldn't think of why he was so interested in her; she was young, very young by the looks of it, and short. Alexandre wasn't interested in short girls a lot of the time; he liked girls that were around five foot six inches, or five foot seven inches. Juniper was tiny. The breeze kicked in, billowing everything; Juniper's hair seemed to flow with it, and Alexandre fought his urge to pick up his camera, and get a picture before the wind died. Even to him, taking pictures of someone he didn't know was creepy, unless it was a model, of course. Models, though, were stuck up and after they ate, most of them went off into the bathroom, and very plainly vomited up their lunch. Not attractive. Alexandre still remembered the day he got his first camera; a mere eleven year old, telling his mother that he wanted to become a photographer, and a famous one. Three days later, his wish came true... Mostly. He got a camera, and began taking pictures of everything that seemed to have a light behind it that made it seem beautiful, even a water bottle. Alexandre's mother framed the first picture that he took that was gorgeous; it was of the moon around nine o'clock at night, the moon was rising in the sky, but a cloud blocked part of it. A few trees surrounded the silver moon, making them dark silhouettes as the moon illuminated everything else. Alexandre had loved that picture, and even put in one of his art shows; he got many good critiques, and most of the people were taken aback when Alexandre told them that he was just eleven when he took the picture. The moon with the cloud over it soon became Alexandre's favourite symbol, and even spray painted it on his wall in his mother's house. He wasn't a great artist, but luckily he was okay when it came to spray painting; he managed to make the moon with the cloud over it look pretty good. The twenty-two year old remembered the spray paint vandalism he had done back in his more rebellious days with his no-good friends. Alexandre shook his head a little; he didn't really like to think about those days, considering that they were some of the worst in his life. As Alexandre looked at Juniper again, he looked straight into her eyes, as if he were swimming in them. She had the kind of eyes that some photographers loved, they were almond shaped, a striking blue, and she didn't really were makeup, as far as Alexandre could tell. ────────────────┐ ❝I have done things that most people wouldn't dare to do.❞ └──────────────── [ o o c ; my post kinda sucks, sorry. D: ]
	m a s q u e r a d e {private} Go to post	6	Invitation-only RP	Fri Jul 31, 2009 10:06 pm
»Draco Malfoy« →but you can call me ; Draco →i'm not a kid anymore ; Fifteen →buy me something nice on ; June Fifth cunning × mean × intelligent
	вυτ ı cαи'τ ℓovε yoυ! [private!] Go to post	10	The Gaian Neighborhood	Fri Jul 31, 2009 9:56 pm
r o n a l d ♪ w e a s l e y As Ronald jogged back to Harry and Hermione, he saw Luna walk over to the girl who was tripped, comforting her. Ron smiled a small smile to himself; Luna was a very nice girl, and didn't seem to care about what anyone said about her. Ron wiped the smile off of his pale face once he heard Malfoy make fun of Luna for being "loony". Ron bit back his urge to tackle Malfoy, and to make him take back what he said. But, Hermione obviously couldn't keep to herself about it. When she started going off on Malfoy, Ronald watched at the pale blonde's face drain of colour for a moment, the smirk coming off as well, until Filch told the students to start walking up to the school. Ron hated Malfoy the moment he met him on the train in his first year; Malfoy had knew who Ron was because he was one of the few people who got hand-me-downs, unlike Malfoy who had new robes every year. Malfoy was a cruel git, and not many people liked him; for all Ron knew, Malfoy paid Crabbe and Goyle to follow him around. As all of the Hogwarts students began to walk towards the school, Ron saw Luna, unfazed, walking by herself. He wanted to walk with her, but he was dragged into conversation with Hermione and Harry, who were discussing plans to make Malfoy's mouth come off. Ron joined in on the conversation, forgetting about his urge to be around Luna, and laughed as Harry imitated what Malfoy would look like with no mouth. Ron felt himself being shoved as Malfoy pushed his way through the crowd to be in front. Under his breath, Ron heard Malfoy mutter, "Blood-traitor." Ron turned to face Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer at Ron. "Go find your precious Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy. I'm sure they're waiting to get paid for following you around." Ron said hotly, his hands balling up into fists, as if ready to strike. Malfoy's face turned a slight shade of pink, and he stalked off to where Crabbe and Goyle stood. Ron smiled to himself, glad that he had said a smart comeback for once. "Nice one, Ron." Harry said, smiling as well. "You could've just let it go, Ronald." Hermione said, rolling her brown eyes. "Which is why you yelled at him for calling Luna 'Loony'?" Ron said, trying to hold back his smile as Hermione's face fell. The bushy-haired girl stomped away from Harry and Ron, who were snickering quietly, and over to Ginny who was walking with Parvati Patil. Hogwarts grew closer, and bigger, soon looming over Ronald, who was fairly tall for his age, all of the windows winking with light. All of the students entered the very large Great Hall, seeing all of the teachers sitting in their place at the teacher's table, which actually had no empty spots; there was a large, portly man sitting at the end of the table, next to Professor Flitwick, wearing a pinstriped deep violet vest and trousers. Ron looked at the man for a lmoment longer as he stumbled over to the Gryffindor table. Ronald sat down next to Harry, and was across the table from Hermione, who seemed to be staring intently at Dumbledore who stood up at his podium, ready to make a quick speech. Ron looked over his shoulder, seeing Luna calling after them, and he waved just as Neville and Ginny did. Harry and Hermione had not noticed Luna waving, for they were watching as Dumbledore fiddled with his pockets for a moment. The Sorting of first-years' usually took about ten minutes, sometimes more depending on how many new students there were. Ron turned around at the sound of the giant Great Hall doors opened, revealing the half-giant, Hagrid, leading all of the scared first-years to the front of the Hall. Hagrid turned to face them, told them to form a line, and he walked up to his spot up at the teachers' table. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, and stood next to a stool which held a ratty old wizarding hat. The Sorting was only fun when you had a family member up in the line of other first-years', getting ready to be Sorted; otherwise, it was boring to listen to the Hat's song about Hogwarts, then call out the House the first-year was going to be in. Ron leaned his chin onto the palm of his hand, and listened as the Hat sang loudly and clearly throughout the Hall. The redhead managed to tear his focus away from the loud Hat, and began thinking about what it would be like to punch Malfoy just once more. He had done it already a few times in his past years, but this year Ronald really wanted to sock Malfoy in the gut, or in that perfectly straight nose. As Ron's mind pondered about punching Malfoy, the Hat's song ended, and the first-years' began getting called up to the stool to be Sorted. Ron clapped absentmindedly, deciding it was time to pay attention to Dumbledore, who would usually say a few words that usually didn't mean anything. ❝ Bloody hell! ❞ ronaldronald [ o o c ; haha. its alright! this is my last post before i leave tomorrow. and don't worry, i'm a tad braindead as well; i couldn't think of what to type for most of this. xD ]