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| Break Dance, Not Hearts; Open | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 22 2005, 12:54 PM (320 Views) | |
| omgosh no way | Oct 22 2005, 12:54 PM Post #1 |
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Though Zane preferred most other seasons over that of autumn, the boy could not deny the subtle beauty the season held. Bland and dying at first glance, the tragedies of autumn surfaced with a caress from the divine figure above; a blinding kaleidoscope of color. The wind sent raptures through the body: faint sounds, carried on the air, embraced his eager ears. A word. A laugh. The merriment of society. A social joviality he was, at the moment, not taking any part of – to which he was prey to find regrettable. However, the early bird gets the worm and, at one-thirty in the afternoon, Zane was not the early bird. Which was fine by him, he wasn’t too keen on birds, anyway. Especially parrots – white parrots with plumes of dandelion that squawked at passerby. Even worse than those foul creatures were those few birds that could speak. Rather, could imitate noises. They were a mindless sort of creature with bright eyes that ridiculed and haunted any within their shrewd line of vision. Zane, with his bright colors and flashy personality, was often a victim. Paranoid, much? Hell yes, but to every obnoxiously perky personality, there was a downfall. His was paranoia. And lack of attention. The latter of which was wreaking havoc on his mental wellness. Emerging from his room at so late a time, due to the occurrences of the previous night, had left Zane quite alone in the world. Many students had already paired off to find activities to attempt, while others had found solace in the sanctity of the library. As if they weren’t freaky enough. In fact, Zane was quite positive that being some “meta-human” and a book lover was a sure sign you were going to hell – in life if not in death. It was a person’s social obligation to make themselves known – to get the hell out of drafty dungeons and let the sun embrace their countenance. To be known, to be liked, that was all that Zane required – and, most unfortunately, it was not something he was achieving. A recluse from the start, the boy had strayed away from the majority of the student body in favor of activities that he’d enjoyed when he’d been “normal”. Not to say that he wasn’t normal now, he just had a few added bonuses. Bonuses. A shallow frown crossed his lips with that thought, an unvoiced laugh ricocheting through the empty chest cavity he possessed – hypothetically speaking, of course. His heart had not left him; it was not even broken. The insinuation of such a statement was on his shirt in bold pink letters on a black background “Break Dance, Not Hearts.” The scratchy writing, the fading words and even worse off hearts – who cared? Zane didn’t. And, as such, his thoughts were easily turned from serious matters to more light hearted ones, such as break dancing. Could he do it? Yes. Granted, he wasn’t very good at it, but he could break out a few moves here and there. The routine pop that and flip this – even if he wasn’t magnificent, it was fun. And, besides being fun, it was probably one of the safer activities he’d attempted. Snowboarding, skateboarding, surfing, skydiving: yeah, he’d done it. So what? A few bones had been broken and his body had been fully emerged in the divinity of adrenaline, but such emotions were fleeting and driven on excitement. Now, he wasn’t excited. There was nothing to do here. Absolutely nothing and no one to do; Zane was being melodramatic, but the boy was a slut for attention. And he wanted attention right now now now! Gosh. He was ready to perform just about anything so some one would come up to him and offer a number – or a name, whichever came first. Perhaps if he lingered around the courtyard, his feet scaring up dead leaves, for a while longer, a sympathizing soul would come along to put the child out of his misery. All he wanted was a person...or five. Was that so much to ask for? |
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| Deleted User | Oct 23 2005, 11:00 AM Post #2 |
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((OOC - Welcome to AHS... Pyotr, interesting char.)) "Yes, thank you." With that she let go of the door, wich flung shut trough the spring that was attached to it to keep most of the warmth in the building. Anime High consisted out of many buildings, the student houses, the classbuilding, library and gym were a few examples. The girl that had just stepped out was Natasha, 17 year old and possesed long strands of beautifull red-orange hair, atleast, some people would call it beautifull, others would just say it was normal. Natasha, a girl who was wearing a long fashionable red skirt and a ordinary soft-orange sweater, with sometimes a catchable glimp of her two black boots. The wind was soft and gentle and actually wasn't as cold as one would expect. The wind was playing with her long strands of hair as she turn arround. She could go to the Library, even though every library assistent would shush you every time you tried to say something. She could go to her house, but that was a walk and she felt a tad lazy today. So it was decided that she would take refuge at the courtyard. One of her classes had just ended and with that, she was free for the rest of the day. All she had with her was a coat and a bag with some books in it, three books for her class, something to read and her dairy. Taking a seat on one of the many empty benches was simple, reading a book would be just as simple if not some kid was walking arround rummaging with his feet through the fallen leaves. All she wanted to do is read something, but some people just didn't let others have some fun, she sighed, tried to continue with reading, but the boy kept on distracting her... |
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| omgosh no way | Oct 23 2005, 11:40 AM Post #3 |
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((OOC: Thanks.)) Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh. The luscious strands of red fluttered in the failing wind as a student, feminine by nature, took up residency on one of the many benches scattered throughout the courtyard. What a la la love. Even if the momentarily unknown female had been bald, fat, and horribly repulsive, Zane would have managed a salutation of sorts – it was simply against his nature to ignore people. To some this caused great annoyance and, as the girl had whipped out a book and was proceeding to dive into some delicious adventure, Zane was fairly positive she would fall into that category. Did he mind? Oh, not at all. Selfish in his trait of having to have eyes on him, Zane rarely considered the emotions of others. It was a downfall, of sorts, but one that he had no qualms making due with. So, shuffling around in the grim corpses for a few moments longer, Zane shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the scarf that adorned his neck flapping lightly in the breeze; a flash of pink among a sickly landscape. And then, he was off. One foot in front of the other eventually took him to stand before the girl, an easy grin on his face as he sat beside her – and, not being one to care about personal space, he didn’t even consider asking whether she minded or not. This thought, though it did finally wind its way up to his brain, was of little importance. So what if she didn’t want him next to her? He’d had worse rejections than that and, take it from him, such occurrences stopped hurting. Shallow little events. They were annoying, yes; but Zane was equally bothersome – so, he supposed it all canceled out. “Hello, sweetheart,” Zane said with a smile, breaking the near silence of the autumn day. “What’s your name? I’m Zane. Nice to meet you.” Blah blahblahblah blah blah. Speaking fast was something that could not be helped – especially when speaking with a new person. His uncle had often yelled at the boy to speak slower, but Zane refused to listen – what did his uncle know, anyway? Nothing. Exactly. In fact, his uncle might have known less than his cousin, Ekaterina...stupid whore. If it wasn’t for his aunt, Zane was positive he would have left them by this point and gone…somewhere. “Where” really wasn’t important as long as it was away. However, had he removed himself from the house, he wouldn’t have been able to steal his cousin’s clothes. Like, her jeans – which he happened to be wearing at the moment. She told him it was disgusting that he could fit into her “girl” jeans: Zane just told her she was fat. What a lovely family, no? “So,” he continued, dragging out the word as his fingers tapped impatiently on the bench, “whatcha readin’?” Pause. “Is it good? Or are you, like, not that far into it yet?” Break. “Hey! Let’s go do something! Like. I dunno – wait, yeah I do! Let’s go for a walk. Please?” Whether her reponse was a “yes”, “no”, or an “I hate you, go die”, Zane was prepared to carry her off the bench if need be. Granted. That might not have worked so well. Just from sitting, the boy was fairly sure they were at even height…he may have been shorter. But, not by a lot! Gosh. It wasn’t his fault he was short. Blame genetics – he did. Of course he couldn’t blame his mother, as she was rather tall for a female, so the blame would have to fall onto his father – who, unfortunately, Zane had never laid eyes on. With his height deficiency, though, that may have been a blessing in disguise. After all, what if his father, too, was tall? Then Zane would be the black sheep of the family, so to speak. He’d be like a freaking runt. Ew. That was way gross; but not as gross as sitting on a bench and doing nothing. How boring! Even if Zane had brought a book with him, he still would have considered this to be boring – who read now-a-days anyway? People were always off doing drugs, having sex, and watching television with a bag of chips at hand. Mind you, the former two always before the latter. Always always always. But, what did “always” matter if his butt was glued to a bench. Too bad this girl was the only person in sight. He really could have gone for a boy. Rawr. |
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| Deleted User | Oct 23 2005, 12:37 PM Post #4 |
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((OOC - wow... you're pretty quick with a detailed post *congratz*)) How annoying could people be, sometimes people were amazing, sometimes they were stupid and sometimes... you would meet someone like she had. Someone who wasn't going to think about the things he did. Reading wasn't going to succeed today, or atleast, not here with this guy. He had taken a place on the bench next to her and almost instantly started talking against her, even though he spoke quickly she heard the first two words best... 'sweetheart' something nobody had ever said to her, and probably he would the last till she had a boyfriend that she loved. The annoying teen had definetly lit a fuse as she slowly started to get aggravated. In the fast rain of words coming at her she could only make up that he called himself Zane, the name sounded rather weird in her ears and she blinked a few times before letting out a deep sigh. He continued, the fuse slowly burning to it's end and made her more annoyed with each word that left his lips. When he started asking about her book she slammed it shut, she didn't care if she had lost the page were whe was, but something had to be done against him. She looked him in the eyes as he finally seemed to have finished to only be suprised as he asked her to go walk, with that question came a word she hadn't expected from him, 'please' he didn't look like he had learned the word, but he had. She looked him back in his eyes, a really aggravated Natasha was now sitting on the bench, next to some Zane. "First things first," she took a deep breath before continueing. [/color=darkred]"Could you stop being so annoying?"[/color] She almost shouted at the boy, throwing her book back in her bag. With one last look at him she stood up, or well, last look, he had asked her something and she hadn't answered his question yet. She turned arround, with a sigh she answered, "since you asked, I'm Natasha and no thanks, I don't think that would end up in a good way, for you." She made a small bow as she told him her name. She looked down at her left boot, as small leave had gotten stuck on the tip of the boot when she stood up. Even though he was annoying, she had calmed down again. Brushed away a stray hair and sat back on the bench, nothing else she had to do. "Okay, tell me, why did you come over to me?" ((OOC - hmm, rather difficult to react to him, it's a conspiracy... I know, now you go post *pushes reply button for "omgosh now way")) |
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| omgosh no way | Oct 23 2005, 01:11 PM Post #5 |
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((OOC: Hah. Conspiracy - if only you knew.)) "First things first, could you stop being so annoying?” Oh, what a let down. Normally people were able to last a few minutes with his bright words and active personality – this girl hadn’t even managed to last a few seconds. Maybe she was going through her thing. You know, that girl issue – what was it called? Like PMS or something. Pretty Mean Slut. Hell yes. Zane doubted she was a slut, but she did seem a bit malicious – maybe it was a good thing she didn’t go down on people. Not that he’d want her. He didn’t do girls. At least when he could avoid it. Just the thought of it sent shivers down his spine and a cold perspiration upon his brow. Girls. Gross. Zane, personally, couldn’t see what was so alluring about the so called “fairer” sex. Of course some were lovelier than others, but all had an unavoidable curse: breasts. Anyway you spun it, they were still repulsive globs of fat that hung from a female’s, otherwise, lovely figure. What was worse, they jiggled. Like jello. When they jumped. Ew. Thank the lord he had not been born a female – if he had been, he would have cut them right off. Just like an Amazon. “Sorry, darling, no can do,” Zane replied with a grin, running a slender hand through his hair to rearrange the dark strands that occasionally obscured his vision. When he was younger, the boy might have been bothered by such a straightforward request: however, he was no longer nine years old and, as such, cared little – if at all. Rather, Zane realized that he should have cared, that by being obnoxious he was further alienating himself from society: however, his actions did not reveal what he should have or should not have done. And, anyway, he was so going to be a rock star when he grew up. Just wait: then, he’d be able to be as annoying as he wanted – and he’d get paid for it. Sur-weet. "Since you asked, I'm Natasha and no thanks, I don't think that would end up in a good way, for you." “Why not? Don’t worry about me, darling, I like it rough,” he told her with a cheeky wink. Whether he liked or disliked girls, Zane adored flirting…with anything that stayed still long enough. Though his favorite prey was straight boys (who were easily told apart from those with interests similar to his), girls worked just as well. However, females, Zane found, did have the tendency to get too clingy and possessive. Seriously, how was he expected to stick to just one person? Sheesh. Girls, in short, expected too much from a hormone driven sixteen year old – I.e. him. "Okay, tell me, why did you come over to me?" “Gosh, are you, like bipolar?” First yelling and now…er…regular volume. “Because, if you are, that’s totally fine and I way forgive you for being a bitch.” Eloquence at its finest. Oh yeah, he had a way with words. Rubbing the back of his neck in thought, his eyes momentarily drifting towards the boundless sky, Zane snapped back to attention, eyes focusing on the female before him. “I dunno why. Does it, like, matter? You seemed interesting – and I was bored.” Or something similar to that. Had Zane been desperate enough, he may have confessed his “need for attention” complex; but, for some reason, he didn’t believe this female would have been all too surprised by that confession. “C’mon, lovely, let’s go do something. I’m still bored,” he said with a pout, arms folding over his chest as a sulky expression claimed his lips. This expression, however, was short lived – with such an attention disorder, Zane lost sight of most things before a desired effect was achieved. Whatever that “desired effect” might have been. |
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| Deleted User | Oct 27 2005, 03:26 PM Post #6 |
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((OOC - You know, I think it will also be hilarious if Zane met Mirror Paw's character Leon, his cat boy XD)) He was shallow in his replies, he probably didn't even care what she was saying, neither would he take the time to care. She listened to them, the way he treated her was really getting annoying, she wasn't his darling, his lovely girl, heh, only two or three persons would think she's lovely, but someone of her age, no. He was still getting on her nerves and she was cursing him silently, if it would help she would be glad, but it didn't. When he called her a bitch she stopped, looking straight forward softly shaking from the shock, it wasn't the smartest thing to call her a bitch. Angrily grabbing the boys upper arm before speaking up. "Don't call me a..." She stopped, and why was obvious to people passing by, her last two words seemed rather high pitched compared to earlier. Natasha was probably the first to notice and quickly let go of the boy, sliding away from him over the bench. Not daring to look what she had done to him. Instead she looked down to her feet, which were much closer to her body then ten minutes back, this happened once in a while, if not weekly, she didn't keep track of it really. This was disastrous, even though she had went over the thought already, just to tease the boy, but now it had become reality she didn’t know what to do, not what he would do. What if he didn’t find out, no, he would, definitely, someone would notice him if he didn’t notice it himself. She took a deep breath, having considered it now, looking would be easiest. When she looked she was surprised, even though she knew Zane looked younger, really younger, his attitude would fit his body better though. ”Sorry…?” She said nervously. ((OOC - hmmm, not so good, well, better then nothing right? oh, and if you got AIM, Yahoo or MSN, contact me... ^^)) |
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| Deleted User | Oct 28 2005, 10:46 PM Post #7 |
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((OOC: Time to mess with Lupis a bit. Let it be known that I am an evil, evil person who deserves to be slapped around by his characters for five minutes each.)) Lupis walked across the courtyard, letting the cool autumn breeze blow away some of the sweat he had accumulated. He was dressed in his usual training outfit -- black gi-pants, a plain t-shirt (gray today), and his denim jacket, worn as a concession to the cooling weather. He carried his staff under one arm, in a manner slightly reminiscent of a lance being carried into battle. He had been training in the meadow, a place he could be fairly certain of not hitting anyone, and a thin coat of sweat covered most of his visible body. The hair on his head hung fairly limply, and his ponytail was slightly damp. He was fairly certain that somehow, even the dark circles beneath his eyes had managed to secrete some sort of sweat during his workout. Over the sound of his sneakers hitting the ground, a few bits of conversation reached his brain. The source seemed to be a couple girls sitting on one of the benches that littered the courtyard. Well, it wasn't like it involved him in any way. He kept walking on a path that would take him by the bench. |
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