|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 5:57 pm
I'll Never Stay
~Story~
I'll Never stay is based on a group of friends that decide they want something more in life. To find that true happiness. Obviously staying at home, attending school and getting bothered by parents wasn't cutting it. So one night they all get together at their usually hang out, on a Friday. Getting drunk, they decided to leave; just get up, and go somewhere else. They go home that night and for the rest of the weekend they pack, and start getting ready. That sunday after the lake, they hit the highway and begin their new life.
The group covers all the ground of social interaction. Basically, there's a Goth and a Jock. There's six of them. ( 2 girls, 2 boys )
Yes some are already allowed to be in relationships. It's encouraged! Only helps the plot line.
-=Plot line=-
After managing to leave the state, they stay in a series of motels, and hotels. They go and see the sights, but a few start to realize. They can't live like this forever? Not only that, but their parents have sent the cops after them. So avoiding the police, they're in for a ride of their life. They look at apartments, and even houses, mixing with the wrong people; a few will get into drugs, and even killings. What's happened to the innocent seniors? They wanted to find happiness. Happiness doesn't exist anymore.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 5:59 pm
~*~Profiles~*~ (PM ALL PROFILES TO ME! or I'll hurt you. Just copy and post into the PM) [b]Character Name:[/b]
[b]Played By:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Sex:[/b]
[b]Social Group:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Bio:[/b]
[b]apperance:[/b] --Rules of Engagement--
1. Piss me off and I'll hurt you.
2. No God Moding
3. Follow the site and Guild rules
4. Be respectful
5. Be literate
6. Be able to post!!! >.<
7. I don't know yet. Maybe there is no 7? >>;
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 6:02 pm
Characters-Girls 1. Character Name: Maura Night (Main Story teller)
Played By: LunaRei SilverBlood
Age: 18
Sex: female
Social Group: Normal (fits in where ever)
Personality: Maura's a very nice girl. But she's fairly quite with larger groups. She's a trusting person, who can be depended on. She's shy, and doesn't have very high self esteem (Reasons listed before). She's mentally strong.
Bio: Her mother died at her birth. Her father was a b*****d that would always tell her it was her fault. The fact that Maura is fairly normal is a huge surprise. She was raped around the age ten. No one really knows about it. Just one day, she closed out the world. She doesn't trust males, and if she does, she may think they have a hidden agenda. But it still crossing her friends mind why one day she vanished, and was gone for almost a year. Considering all that, she's a fairly happy person. Her father beats her, when she took it into her own hands and learned to defend herself. She often appeared at school with bruises. She's a bright, and observant person. Finding that one person to trust and care about might make a huge difference in her life. But why should someone love her? She doesn't really give people a chance to worry about her. She places her friends before herself.
appearance:  2. 4.Character Name: Kitana, Known as Kitty by her friends
Played By: lilnicole7
Age: 16 going on 17 in a month
Sex: female
Social Group: called nearly everything usually a goth, emo, loner, or slut. though she doesn't give a damn about what people say about her anymore.
Personality: Kitty doesn't like to socialize, most people don't understand her anyways. The is lost in her own mind most of the time, thinking. Her hard past did have a big affect on her now. Getting her trust is hard, but once earned, she is very loyal. This group of eight, no matter how mixed it is, is probably her closest friends along with the few other goths that she knows.
Bio: At the age of five, both her mother and father were murdered, she hid in fear. The authorities got her and put her in an orphanage, which she usually ran away from. Finally, she was put in a foster home, where she was heavily protected. Tired of running away, she stuck with it. They loved her, but noone would be the same.
apperance: ~*~*~ 4. Character Name: Robin Alexander Willington
Played By: Mephistophelian Sociopath
Age: 17
Sex: Male
Social Group: Goth/Emo
Personality: Obviously, Robin is a very quiet person who, obviously, does not have a whole lot of friends. He is considered to be a rather dark person of mystery who holds not a care in the world in the way of humanity, friends, animals, society, government or anything that requires feeling. Yes, he is a very much labeled person. In reality, Robin is a sensitive boy who just wants to give everyone else, everyone from people to animals, from society to every last human, what he never had: hope. He can be trusted with deadly secrets. He will listen to any problem with an open heart and try his best to help all who ask. Sadly, the stereotypes of high school have caused others to never realize these things of him. He binds his time writing unsigned letters to the press, calling for change or poetry for the school newspaper, still unsigned. Though he has a remarkable talent with words, he prefers artwork. If he?s not in the library, try the art classrooms. If, by any chance he is not in the art classrooms or the library, there is this street corner by the school where he often sits alone with his acoustic guitar and plays the songs that he has written for people who don?t know he exists.
Bio: His biological parents loved him very much, though, sadly, they passed away when he was four. He vowed then to never dwell on or speak of them for as long as he lived. At that young age, he was sent off to live in foster care. That's when the worse side of life came out to play. There had been too many children living under the same roof and since Robin was never an assertive child, he never received any attention in such a crucial point of living. He was made to fend for himself amongst the near war of children, making only a few allies. His enemies took full advantage of his quiet personality and tortured him. He was beat up, made fun of, left behind in 'family' outings, physically bruised and cut by the larger of the children. In time, he became dead. He no longer feels love and care, just a want to give others one thing he never had.
Over time, he was adopted at the age of ten. His new parents were, to say the least, inexperienced in the ways of caring for a child. His father never seemed to care much for him, wanting his son to be manlier with a heavy liking for guns and war. Robin just was not able to please his father, no matter how he tried. In time, he gave up and became a mystery. His father, constantly raging over him to be a man, drove him to self mutilation. It wasn't his hatred of himself, it was a deeper want. His mother could never do anything to stop Robin's father from his growing rampages. In this way, it only hurt Robin more to see his mother try so hard to stick up for him, but never able to succeed against his father. Once again, things got bad. His father lost his job, took to drinking and beating Robin about like an unwanted dog. Still, Robin never found the strength to stand up for himself. His mother could never help him find this strength, for she had to work longer hours to earn more money and to stay away from the drunk. Meanwhile, Robin quietly attended school, maintaining high grades and avoiding the caring looks of his teachers who suspected something was afoot with the bruises about his neck. Nevertheless, he smiled it off, saying that it was the fault of his own carelessness.
Appearance:  5. Character Name: James Aillien Johnson
Played By:Devilboy _Jack (Soon to be Jack of flames)
Age:18
Sex:Male
Social Group: He locks himself away from others, and he wants to break free from the sadness he's made for himself. They call him goth, they call him f** ...They call him emo, but they don't know him.
Personality: James was by personality, a downer, a loner, a person succeptable to flattery, to tricks that he would regret forever. He was so warm inside though, all inside that sadness, that broken simple being, was a good spirit...And an artist. Clingy, punch drunk, no one ever would understand him in his mind. Late nights, nothing, poetry, nothing, painting until he was covered in paint, nothing... He was romantic as his skin was pale... Something, halleluja, something in his life, something to be proud of. What a fool he felt like when girls used him, and that was part of the reason why his sleeves stay pulled up, and why the music in his headphones can steer people blind with the sound of drums and heavy guitar. Art is a huge part of his life, dancing, singing, playing instruments, he has a noir tattoo on his right shoulder of the two faces of drama. Happy and sad, he was never inbetween.
Bio: That cold look in his eye he inherited from his father. He felt so foolish, and he didn't know half of what to say when he remembered every trying to live with his parents. They were always argueing, blaming their arguements on him, and they didn't want him, they'd never wanted him. They loved his other siblings, but they never set things on fire by accident, they never lost things that the mom of dad wnted them to keep, they never ratted their parents out to the police for the little drugs they had. James wasn't meant to live with them. Bad since birth... Why? he often thinks to himself, happy aprehension as he ran away with a bag of clothing and his portfolio of paper-sketches. He felt free.
Then he left and found a community, No one knew him, or knew his worth. For ages he just played guitar on the subway, and got his laughs.
Along came a group of people, people staring his way, and they got him up from the ashes. A few years off, he got some friends at last. James had a soul measured by his friendships.
apperance: 
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 6:14 pm
 -=Updates=- 07/14/06 - RP set up... recruiting
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 6:17 pm
In the halls of the Lexington High school not a sound could be heard, not even a mouse. The school was fairly new. But it showed the worn and tare. The rugs on the floor had a path craved from the walking of students and teachers. The endless silence would be shattered by an erupting bell -R-I-N-G- it was loud and constant, until suddenly to doors in the hallways flew open and students came pouring into the halls. Their chatter filled the air.
Heading outside from the main entrance Maura took a turn, and moved to the indent on the left hand side of the school that would lead to an indent of the building. A few people would glance at the red head but never said anything her Brilliant blue eyes sparkled, with they watery crystal color. She tugged at the black spaghetti strap shirt that had the word "Kitten" printed across her breasts in white. The title Kitten was ever enjoyed by her, since she took on the atmosphere of one. Her skin was slightly tan; she didn't often travel in the sun... About 3 inches of her nicely tone, but smooth skin was exposed on her stomach. Her body was well toned. Downing on her hips, hanging loosely, a pair of black pipe/ A-line pants, made of that nylon form wind pants... They were very light, lined with white. Today was Friday. The day she always dressed like the majority of her friends. She wore a black boot, that wouldn't make much noise when she walked.
She was a 'normal' classed girl. She could fit in anywhere. But she didn't care of the superficial preppy girls. She was often lost in the crowd of Goth and punks... Even if she were to be wearing a mini skirt and sweater. They were her friends, and respected how she dressed. Her eyes seemed to have a sad look about them, when school ended she knew where she had to go home too, and she wasn't happy about that. She often took shelter with one of her male friends when possible. Thugh no one knew why.
The boys she hung out with, where good looking... she'd often given thought to possibly dating one. But none seemed interested in her. So she never pushed the matter. She turned around, pushing her black shoulder bag behind her letting the bag rest against her rear and the strap over her chest. A face of an orange cat with anger marks was on it. Kyo. Her Favorite Anime Fruits Basket... Though it may not look it, Maura was fairly well off... She worked odd end jobs, and saved... She didn't have a car though... So when it came to car pooling she relied in her closet circle of friends.
She leaned against the wall and looked forward waiting for them to all come and meet there to plane for the upcoming nights... That night and the next night. Even Saturday - day. She'd do just about anything to stay out of that house.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 8:51 pm
((I'm just going to post my intro, the same one. Not going to retype something different, this one is way good. ...))
In a far away land, a gentle ringing soared across an ocean. It rode the waves all the way to the sadny, shell lined shore where it danced about the ears of a boy resting peacefully. It was the softest thing, a rather beautiful chime to compliment the ocean's somber splashing. But the peaceful boy paid no heed to the chime. He lay here on the sand reflecting the sunset, just staring up into the purple sky. Nothing could move him, not the sounds of the seagulls above nor the incoming of the nightly tide. He was finally in a place of serene silence. He did not want to move. His striking sapphire eyes slowly stared at the rolling of the white clouds. Indeed, they were not as white as they should have been. The mixture of warm colors from the setting sun was upon them, giving the white the look of a used painter's palette. Perfectly peaceful, the setting sun over the ocean. Just like the reflection of the same sun across the ocean, perfect peace. Oh, how wonderfully the world reflected itself. If only they could see it... This beautiful pictare that Mother Nature painted for all to enjoy... But, they were so preoccupied with their worlds. Mankind, so egotistical...
An arm rammed into the boy, sending him back to current reality. Current reality was an art classroom, the cool feeling of paint dripping down his black shirted back. He sighed, putting his brush back into its cup holder with one swift swoop. He carefully turned around to see who it was this time. True to the workings of the egotistical world, it was the same boy who constantly picked on him. Brown haired, green eyed and grinning, he feigned an apology for the oil paint all down Robin's back. The blacked haired, blue eyed Robin just stared into the evil's green eyes, the eyes of blue giving the same look of icy hatred. The evil grinned for a few more seconds, and upon feeling the cold hate, quickly retreated to the sink to clean himself up. Robin, ignoring his teacher's scoldings of the evil and the other students stares, turned back to his work. It was a peaceful sunset, overlooking the reflecting ocean. Suddenly, Robin could not work anymore. The onlookers' realization of his existence hurt. He picked up his brushes, cleaned them out and put up his painting. The warm, caring hand of the art teacher squeezed his shoulder as he neared the door to leave. Did he want to talk to someone? Not really. He left the artroom behind a crowd of giggling girls. Afterall, the chime of the bell had reached his ears on the shore. His teacher, ever so concerned, could help but notice the collection of bruises around his student's thin, pale neck.
Wandering the halls of Lexington High was what Robin did best. His back still drenched in thick oil paint, he could feel the stares of the students as he passed to the band hall. Lovely, the ways of the world. He would never understand why some people felt it nessecary to pick on others. It was told to him that it was because they suffered at home and throughout life. Robin had, indeed, suffered a long while throughout life. Why wasn't he more assertive? The idea of suffering and making others suffer for it seemed bogus to the pale, black haired boy. He held his books tight to his thin chest, keeping his head lowered at all times. Good thing he was an expert at dodging people while forever looking down. His baggy black shirt seemed to catch the wind as he briskly walked. This shirt, which was the product of his own hand, just so happened to be his pride and joy. By appearence, it was baggy. A closer examination would show that it fit him rather tightly across his skinny chest and pale, thin arms. One side was held together by safety pins, more a result of his laziness than that of a fashion statement. Strips of black fabric trailed about the shirt, wafting in the breeze as he pulled open the door to the band hall. His thick, powerful boots made a slight thumping noise across the tile floor. Though, it was lost in the cheerful chatter of the band students.
Here, in this large, locker lined band hall, Robin felt truthfully most at home. A few students, never so judging as the others in school, sat in the band set up getting out their instruments. Sadly, though it was a Friday, the second band had practice today. A member of the french horn section, sandy blond haired and pale blue eyed, saw Robin head towards the corner where he stored his guitar. He also saw the paint on his friend's back. Giving a shout at Robin, he leapt off the risers and skipped over to the blue eyed boy. They shared a few moments of conversation, a sympathetic look from the sandy haired boy a Robin's story of art. The entrance of the band director, still young in comparision to the others, prompted a faster set up. Students raced to their chairs and wildly began to put together thier instruments. The sandy haired boy, Gregory, shuffled his friend's hair in a good-bye, his legs pumping to get to his seat. Robin sighed while picked up his acoustic guitar case. Thankfully, Jazz Band practice was on Tuesdays and Thursdays, in which he played the piano. He left the band hall, feeling the ever sarcastic but caring eye of the band director examine his presently colorful shirt.
By appearence, Robin was frighteningly thin to the point of suspected anorexia and thought to be just as weak. No, he never starved himself on purpose and his wasn't as weak as he was labeled to be. Carrying the heavy case of the guitar was not a problem as he walked outside the school. It felt like but a feather to him. Now, the school day fully over, he led his feet trail to an indention of the building, where a friend of his was waiting. He coughed in an announcement and sat along the wall. He stared up into space, his hands subconciously getting out his guitar. They began to strum a melody. It sounded like a lament. Still staring into other dimensions, his tiny voice began to sing.
Puritanical masses
Flood the valleys of dark forests
Holy rites of passage
An ultimate release
My life, defined
Snipped and nurtured by monotony
Realization, no
I cannot take part
This is not my calling
To soar, over and...
He paused. His blue eyes snapped back to reality. He struck a dissonant chord and grimaced. If only he could get his mind and crappy poetry to shut up... "Dear world," he muttered, miming writing in the air, "Forgive my wretched singing skills and horrid poetry attempts." He normally pale face turned beet red as his head lowered to study his finger poistion of the next, faster song.
((And the band hall, the people and director are modelled after my own. The band hall is actually not connecte to the school. Getting to it involves going outside first. Just so you know... Hope it's not a bother, but that's the band hall that I <3.))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 9:35 pm
-slight edit-
A giggle in the distance, and all she could do was watch. The little girl ran and giggled as her mother chased her around before finally catching her, picking her up into one of those twirling hugs. She gave the girl a kiss on the cheek and started to walk away, towards the swings where she gently swung her daughter. It was a nice day out, nearly perfect actually. It was a sunny day with nice blue skies and a few fluffy white clouds here and there, there was also a light refreshing breeze out. It was all so perfect, so... happy...
A genlte rub in the shoulder bright Kitana crashing back to reality. "Huh, what?" she yawned as she slowly got up from her comfrotable sleeping postion in the back of the class, evening out her hair as well. "Bell's about to ring." said Sarah. "K, thanks." she replied back as she did a quick check that all her stuff was safely in her backpack. It was. Kitana now stared up at the clock. 3-2-1... BRIING!!! "Finally."
Kitty quickly grabbed her things and bolted out the door. It was friday and she was just glad that she could finally spend some quality time with her friends that weekend. The hallway was crowded as many people filed out of their classrooms. When she walked out, a few people stared at her. Most of them preps, she loathed them, they judged her and didn't even know her. They all called her a gothic slut. There were many whispers going about, and she knew that they were about her. There were also a few cat-calls from shallow guys thinking she was hot or something of that sort. She rolled her eyes at them all and continued down the hallway.
She quickly brushed her blood red mini skirt and tight black shirt, wrinkled from her nap earlier. The reason they called her a goth and a slut was her clothing style. Some days she would wear thight revealing things like the outfit she wore today, other days she would wear baggy clothes and heavy eye make up that gave the impression '******** off, I don't want to hear your s**t today.' She wore all dark colors though, shades of red, black, dark blue, dark purple are the only colors she really wore. The other color that was somewhat 'light' was blue and that's it.
Her knee high black boots complimented her outfit and made a slight clicking sound as she walked. She readjusted her heavy black shoulder bag while she brushed her distracting long black, shoulder length hair out of her face. Her bag had many trinkets hanging from the front of it, lanyards and unique keychains just to name a few.Slowing down near the end of the hallway, she stopped at a group of lockers. Spinning the lock of her own locker, she spun the combination and it unlocked. Opening her locker, she went through her bag to pull a few books and binders out, placing them into the locker.
Although it doesn't seem like it, Kitty was a straight A student, she just never bragged about it. Her bag now unmistakably lighter, she closed her locker and made her way out of the now nearly empty hall. After waving back to a few people who said hi to her, she made her way to the parking lot where there were cars and busses. Being the youngest of the group, she didn't have a car yet and she couldn't wait until she got one of her own. Looking around, she saw Maura and Robin of her group against the wall and joined them, giving a small, depressed wave.
She had just barely caught the song that Robin had sung and wondered what it meant. there seemed to be a lot of sadness and bottled up feeling in it. Though, she doubted that Robin would ever open up and tell her what it means, he was just like her. Even to her clostest friends, Kitty found it hard to open up fully. She hated people worrying about her so she'd never tell them anything that would make them give her sympathy or anything of that sort.
Kitty waited with them for the remaining member of the group, James. She wasn't sexist or anything but she preferred hanging out with guys than girls. Girls were always bitchy and full of drama. Maura was one of the very few she actually did hang out with. Kitty moght have been attracted to the guys in her group though she didn't show it, they probably didn't feel the same way about her anyways and what is love and simple crushes but an excuse to be hurt again. That's something she didn't want. So if she were to get with anyone.. it'd have to be... 'right'..
She sighed at the thought of going home even if it was for a little while. She really did love her foster parents and they loved her but it always seemed like something was missing between them and she got out of the house as much as she could. Life was boring and depressing, school was going great academic wise but it was still boring. She needed adventure, excitement, most of all just to get away.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2006 9:15 am
Staring out into the connection between water and sky was purgutive for the toxins in his mind. Not so adolescent, James would love to throw a joke in anyones direction, just to get a human reaction from them. as far as the clouds reeled, his grey eyes searched them inetently, seeking the heart, His guitar in hand, the beach was too silent for him, too relaxed.
He was forcing himself to forget it all, Being free of mind was all he seeked, and he felt it there. He watched out from the top of the boardwalk stretch, on the lonely lifegaurd elevation, He saw the setting sun complimented by the water far below and the rivers of sparse color running over flickering with lights that shimmered like the strings of his guitar, tapped into his portable battery-operated amplifier. Quick fingers hit his guitar and he vibed off of his music, letting it wash up and down the beach just as the wind was. He took what was given to him by industry and nature to give back to the earth and he put it back together with the same vigor one would apply whence taming a horse, or a woman or man to woo in and out of spirits.
'I am unique.... Just like everybody else"
He didn't let his fingertaps off the strings, playing a jam that would last forever if it had to, his small self- contoured guitar vibrating into the heavy wood unlike any other guitar mass produced, and the classical spring of magic in music came from him. Deep melancholic music, like alcohol, filled his body up, and toned and perfected James looked out into the sun and stood on the lifegaurd post, the umbrella toppling off of the highrise, he rifted his strings feverishly into a metal tune, not letting his muse die.
James let out all of his cherub in his music, taking every passing moment as a moment to employ the mastery of himself, to tell the world that this runaway had dropped out, fallen poor, and been brought back by some friends, and he was on the top of the world that was the beach, where tides rose and fell like the cons of mankind, and the seagulls feared his song so terribly, for they were not used to the jiving guitar blast of the sad human spirit.
He'd been through trauma, but he forgot it as he played his music, the hard music actually set out a sweet tone on the beach, as if god was singing guitar over the beach rather than just the carressing winds in your ears, and the crashing waves that served as a perpetual drumroll behind his playing.
He closed his eyes and openned them again- a man dropped a few quarters in his cup and he looked down to the ground of the subway station where he was, and a quarter had clattered off across the ground. He didn't want to move, for fear of being dished out some ultra violence for being white, and for just being who he was. One step upn from beggar, easy to pick on.
He should not have been cutting school but he couldn't go to school just then, he needed money to pay his rent, and his parents wouldn't even dare give him a lease on life, they hated him. He would go back to the same old crap.. The same old junk, the same old tiny studio apartment where he could barely fit his artwork, screenplays, musical notes, and sketches for life, littered about with notes from school. He packed away his guitar and the small amplifier and walked out of the trainstation, slamming down the street and through the halls of his school.
Girls and boys looked at him with the same interest, actually, the same kind of interest... Being disturbed by him, him in his hoodie, and his torn pants, and his guitar he carried where ever he went. Truly, he was only really looked at by the goth kids- the goth girls- they seemed to like hima lot- he wasn't sure why...There wasn't a day in his life that he didn't begin to hate how lonely he was making himself.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2006 11:12 am
Maura smiled some when Robin joined her, She listened into his little song and she laughed some tilting her head. Then Kitty joined them. She smiled lightly, wondering what happened to the fourth member of the group.
"You know, Robin, its not that bad..." She laughed lightly and pushed up off the wall. "I liked listening to you play, and sing.." she moved her hand to almost pet him butshe decided against it. She did a small spin on her foot, to look over at Kitty...
"Did you have an okay day?" She asked.. noting the wrinkled clothing. She moved her eyes around looking for hte missing memeber. She didn't much like this whole waiting thing. Robin had been always good about that, he always showed up on time, even Kitty. She got a bit antsy and paced back to her bag, awaiting the answer from Kitty and such, her eyes glanced back to Robin.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2006 3:34 pm
(-I'd [rather] be --paint--ing.+._.( Always the acoustic type of person, he began to slowly strum a few chords out in a Mexican rythum. Wherever the notes went, they drew heads and ears towards the small boy and his light beige guitar, its string held together by only the careful breeze of the winds. Those same winds carried his notes through the trees to the birds of the season. A few chirped in return as he continued his tango for the orange sun. Still, the song remained slow, but sporadic as though it teetered on the edge of breaking into something sublimely insane. He toyed around the edge of oblivion for a spell, reeling the eyes in from behind him. His breath was held, but he did not notice. Their lungs ached for air as the beat stayed oh so constantly awkward for this sun song. It stopped, ran into a wall of soundless rest and hopeless anticipation. The boy they knew as That Kid shifted his postion on the ground while secretly shifting his fingers into play for the true tango for the star light of the Earth. A quick intake of breath and he took off like the birds out of the trees. Soaring, cresendo, slapping accent... If only there was a trumpet and a few percussive intruments, he could have had his own mariachi band. But, it was just the lone guitar and his chords colored the hues of the rising Hispanic sun. The melody, no lyrics, sang for itself...
A quick as it started, it was over. Running into another wall of soundlessness, he placed his guitar on the ground and stretched. The oils paints on his back were still quite wet, They would be for several days if he did not take action to at least cleanse the top layer off. Sadly, his shirt was hopelessly stained. It was that way since the beginning. A small spot of oil paint on any article of clothing, black or colored, was doomed to an everlasting stain. And by far, his shirt was the ultimate causlity. He grimaced at the thought, his arms still skyward for a few seconds more. It had been a long day indeed... His brain crammed with mathamatical equations, his ears stock filled with ancient literture and his eyes overloaded with the effects of some nameless disease on the human skin. How he hoped to just go home and sleep until the sun rose for the next day... Or, perhaps, to just drift into that neverending sleep, never to face what life had planned out for him. It was a constant thought, the same as the constant thought of food, water and what to think. It was normal. It was just a matter of waiting for them to tell him it was fine, odd as it sounded. But, life had its odd perks like that.
"So, over the course of today, I had to endure the lecture of an elderly man over the novel, Jane Eyre. 'twas a boring book, but this man's lecture beat the novel by a healthy ten miles. I cannot understand why hey don't require more reading of John Stienbeck. For goodness sake, Mr. Stienbeck was a wonderful author..."
Pointless conversation to deter his internal thoughts.
Such fun. ){.+.`. th*e sunset with my own blo-=-od __.|]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 9:48 pm
"Eh... it was alright. School is school, what more can you say about it?" She responded to Maura, though not looking at her. She was staring at the ground as usual. For as long as she could remember she found it hard to look into someones eyes as she talked to them. Oh well. She listened to Robin's little tune. She loved it when he played, wishing she was as talented as he on a guitar. His tunes and melodies always had a way of putting her into a certain mood or emotion, though mostly it calmed her down a bit, which was always a good thing.
"I'll agree with you there Robin, well halfway at least. Jane Eyre would have been a decent read if we didn't have to read it for school and discuss and over analyze ever freakin' detail. I swear, those discussions kill any book." She said smiling. It amused how professional that answer had sounded, reminded her of the school girl she really was. The thought made her shudder a bit. Such a school girl.
She leaned back more comfortably against the wall and her mind began to wander off as it usually did. Where was James? It didn't worry her too much though, James had a knack for hardly being on time. Couldn't balme him. Speaking of James.. Was he even at school today? Her mind began to recall the school day, to remember if she had even seen him. She didn't. Well, it wasn't unusual for him to skip school, she understood.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Kitana looked around. She saw people departing and saying their farewell to their peers. She watched as the buses finally began to depart with their usual roar. At this point, she just sighed and waited.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 19, 2006 7:05 pm
...
He nodded thoughtfully before replying to the words of Kitty. His mind wandered off to the buses that roared away in a flurry of black pollution. It brought up an odd thought in his mind. Should the makers of cars be charged with manslaughter? Their machines put out a vile, toxic material with the same general effects of smoking. It, in essence, was killing the environment and man slowly and surely. But, then, the smoking companies would have to be charaged with their products too. Long, stupid fighting would ensue with the most outragous claims, aimed at winning one battle. If the companies were to lose, the economy of America would tank like no other. Just went to prove how America thrived on murder. but, his mind snapped back to reality. Was he ADD or what.
"Oh. Yes, I agree. Most disscussion killes the reading material... But I think it is more so because the teachers are so cut and dry with the symbolisim and underlying themes of the story... Most teachers that I have had to endure never allowed for a healthy open ended conversation on what we, the class, believed the symbols to stand for and such. Maybe it's just the tenure..."
He groaned and flopped over backwards on the concrete ground, where he wiggled frantically for a few moments. When he rose to shift his position, a rainbow of paint was left on the ground. Still, it bombarded his shirt, along with gravel, but it was cleaner at least. If only he had remember to bring his spare shirt of wear over his black clothing, not much would have been lost... But, bad days happen and enemies were always on the prowl. He just happened to be the last in the line when the tiger decided to attack. He replaced his read end on the curb with his feet resting protectivly against his guitar.
"So, I was contemplating something today... Nothing life changing, but I wish to write a new song. I wondered throughtout the day if you two would help me decide on a style or a particular mood of the song? Should it be lyrical or just a sort of guitar solo? Or piano, mayhap?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 12:11 am
( *coughs* I shall post soon! like tomorrow or the next day @_@ sorry!! )
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 25, 2006 9:42 pm
( i have no idea what to do about Smile's character.. >.> )
Maura listened to them. She didn't say much after that. She pushedher red hair from her face and glanced off to the slide. She tuned out the two's slight conversation. And then when Robin ask about a new song She just shook her head. She would leave something like that to Kitty. Maybe let the two have more alone time? She sighed softly placing her hand on her hip. Where was he? She bit her lower lip.
"oi... I have no idea where he is. I think I'm going to head home for the afternoon, and get ready for night. Shall we meet at the lake arounf sun down?" She asked... that was there usual thing... So the other friend should jsut show there.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2006 5:45 pm
They said every day would be a little better... once... He thought, and noone ever spoke to him anymore. He could think of three people on earth up his alley and they seemed as if he might as well have been dead... They knew not much about him, friends of his aquaintences, his crushes, Noone spoke to him, but he listened in on them... Music played through his head....
She had nut painted arms
That were hers to keep
And in her fear
She sought cracked pleasures
The passion of lovers is for death said she
Licked her lips
And turned to feather
And as I watched from underneath
I came aware of all that she keep
The little foxes so safe and sound
They were not dead
They'd gone to ground
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
She breaks her hear
Just a little too much
And her jokes attract the lucky bad type
As she dips and wails
And slips her banshee smile
She gets the better of the bigger to the letter
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
...and his mind roamed back.... To his social life, staring at his shoes.
' Lake? Nobodies... Ever getting me anywhere...'
He muttered under his breath. He stared to a few people... He felt out of it...
"I'm right here... I was playing guitar- I lost myself...'
He didn't mutter this time... as a guitar line ran through his head and his fingers fiddled with a low string, listenning to Robins fingerplay on those strings...
Why did he feel like guitars spoke more to him than his friends? Then he remembered... It must have been his fault... Conflict, he wished he would speak more to his friends.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
