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this is a private roleplay for
m e r c manual
&&
h e y - - l y l a
so gtfo plz ;D
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full name here

nicknames role age gender posting color username


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[color=COLORHERE][size=24][b]full name here[/b][/size][/color]

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Athol B. Gallagher

arthur suave salary man thirty-six years male #728FCE h e y - - l y l a

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Bridget Hazel Williams

bridge, never hazel impressionable youth seventeen years female #00688B m e r c manual

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                                Bridget Williams was a good girl. That was about as deep as she went for most people. She did well in school, had bright prospects for the future, and could hold an intelligent, mature conversation with ease. She was never called to the headmistress's office, never got in trouble at home, and never ran around with boys (especially teddy boys). She did not listen to rock'n'roll, did not drink, do drugs, or smoke, and she did not wear anything that was even the slightest bit inappropriate. In fact, as far as anyone knew, she never even gossiped when spending a rare night at a friend's house. Every day, she went to school, came home, did her homework, ate dinner with her parents, studied, and went to sleep at a reasonable time of night. All of this led to the very reasonable conclusion that Bridget Hazel Williams was, through and through, a very, very good girl.

                                There was just one problem: Bridget did not particularly want to be a very, very good girl. She wanted to be one of the girls who was cool, dangerous...rebellious? She wasn't sure. If nothing else, she at least wanted to feel a little more grown-up. That was the interesting thing about being such a “good girl”, after all. People said constantly that she was so mature for her age, that she was much more responsible than other kids her age, but they treated her like a little kid. She was just a naïve little teenager who didn't know what was good for her yet; everyone wanted to preserve her innocence. Sometimes she just couldn't bear it. At least, she had decided very recently that she couldn't bear it. Along with that came a second realization: her life was astoundingly, unbearably boring. Nothing she did equaled out to actual living. In fact, the more she had thought about it, the more everything seemed fake. She wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but the word seemed to fit. Like every smile, every assurance that she would go far in life, was far less than genuine. She hadn't exactly decided that she hated her life, of course. She wasn't one of those girls. It was just that she had a sudden, desperate craving for excitement that stopping by a local shop for a few minutes on the way home (without telling her parents) could not satisfy.

                                Unfortunately, that was what she had been forced to settle for on this particular day. After an insanely routine day at school (she was almost through....almost through), she had made the decision to make an extra stop at the record store on the way home and browse to see if there was anything that caught her eye. If there was, she would hide it in her school bag and (after telling her parents that she was late because of...she hadn't thought up an excuse yet) listen to it very quietly when she arrived at home. Upon informing her friends of this ever-so-rebellious plan, all of them giggled and tittered about how unlike her it was. This did not improve her mood. Simply because of their teasing, Bridget decided to try and think of another way to quietly rebel. Her answer came in Johnny, the boy that seemed to be highly interested in her despite hardly even knowing her. He was something of a teddy boy, the kind of boy that her parents detested, but however “dangerously” he may have dressed, he was a good boy at heart. Bridget supposed that if she did not know any real teddy boys, Johnny would do.

                                At the end of school, she ventured towards the boys' school nearby and waited for a few minutes until the familiar leather jacket made an appearance. He saw her immediately and veered towards her, grinning in a lopsided way that seemed to suggest that the two of them were incredibly close. Bridget smiled in a much more forced way. Johnny and his lack of adventure did not particularly interest her. It was sad.

                                So, I see you've finally given in, eh? Decided to try out the local-

                                Johnny, I'm not here to give in to anything. I thought I would ask you to walk me to the record store. I didn't want to walk alone.” She started to walk away, he followed a few steps behind her.

                                That's good! A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be alone....Especially with a boy like me.

                                Don't flatter yourself, Johnny. Can you please act normal for once?

                                Well, someone's in a bit of a mood today.

                                You would be, too.

                                The conversation never became more engaging than this. He continued to try and be something impressive, Bridget continued to be, well, a little bit bitchy. Okay, a lotta bit bitchy. Poor Johnny had been the target of her aggression today. At least he took it well; if he was really as threatening as he thought he was, she would not have shoved him off so easily upon reaching their destination. He finally agreed to leave her alone when they reached the shop, though he tried to...She wasn't quite sure. It was like he wanted to try and kiss her, but instead he settled for an odd hug-like motion. She didn't know what the hell it was, but it was uncomfortable and she was happy to see the back of him.

                                Bridget walked inside the shop and smiled. This was much more pleasant than school, home, or anywhere else she spent any decent amount of time. The smell of the records, the quiet music playing throughout the shop. She looked around, realizing that she wasn't really sure what she wanted to find. The jazz, the classical? Maybe she wanted to give rock'n'roll a shot? She couldn't decide. Instead, she opted to look at the records closest to her, which were some sort of combination of all of the above. There were a few names she recognized: Smokey Robinson, The Shirelles. Then there were some of whom she had not heard, but whose album covers were interesting. She wanted a little bit of everything, just anything to listen to in her room later tonight.

                                ooc:: it's kind of lame content-wise, but i promise it'll get better next time ;D


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SOMEDAY I'LL WISH UPON A STAR AND WAKE UP
WHERE THE CLOUDS ARE FAR BEHIND ME

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