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Post by Kevala Katashi on Apr 30, 2012 21:58:07 GMT -6
Here at PHS #8011 things don't always follow the normal scheme of things. Every school has dances, but with a Superintendent currently the only one in charge of such events, she has made sure that preparation for the dance falls upon the students. Meaning that everyone has to chip in and do their part, because Gods know she is too lazy to do it all by herself.
Oh, and did I fail to mention that the theme for this "Getting to Know You" dance is the 1920's? Because, what is a dance without a fun theme to go along with it. So, welcome to
The Roaring Twenties Dance Committee!!!
Rewards: +5 EXP and $500 cash
Requirements: - You must type a post consisting of 700+ words in which you detail your involvement in helping prepare the school for the dance.
- You can work with a partner or a group of people to collaborate a thread in which you all work together to prepare the courtyard for the dance, since in true Kev fashion, she is holding the event outside during the evening. ( Though if you choose to do this, each person must have at least 700 words within the thread for it to be valid. )
- You must also make mention of what you are going to do to prepare for the dance. Be it leaving the school grounds to go and buy your outfit or asking somebody on a date. Just something to show that you are preparing for a night of fun.
- But most importantly, be creative and have fun with it!
**NOTE** The dance itself will be held in the Character Event's section later this month.
Due Date: May 31, 2012
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Aryanna Katashi
New Member
[M:2350]
Life isn't about finding yourself...Its about creating yourself...
Posts: 163
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Post by Aryanna Katashi on May 7, 2012 13:27:57 GMT -6
So, they wanted her to help decorate for the dance that was coming up? Well, even though that was not really something that Aryanna was into, she figured there would be no harm in taking part. Sure, her parents hadn't told her that she had to take part in any of the extracurricular activities that the school had to offer, but in her mind, taking part in them meant that she had a better chance at blending in. The truth was, Aryanna prided herself in being different, she saw nothing wrong with it, but that didn't mean she was blind to the benefits of fitting in, to a degree. It made it easier to play with people, to string them along and toy with them. It also made it much easier to make friends...And everyone needed friends right?
She thought so, since it always seemed the ones with friends had an easier time of things. Though the task of making such was harder for Aryanna than most other people. One, because people tended to look at her and see her as a freak...with of course, the exception of those that thought her rather captivating. Two, because her personality tended to ward others off, not many being capable of handling her in large doses. Something she still didn't fully understand.
None the less, here she was, looking around the courtyard at the various decorations that had already been laid out. It wasn't much yet, and apparently their Superintendent wasn't planning on pitching in a whole hell of a lot. But then, if Aryanna was in the woman's position, she probably wouldn't lift a finger either. The real question right now though, well....what exactly could Aryanna do that would add to the flare of the 1920's without making everything look too cheap? Her mind working back over all the things she had learned about that particular era. There was so much to work off of, to be honest. It had been a period in time where women wore flashy dresses, and men wore rather dashing suits. Everything had an air about it that had never been seen before or since.
Sitting there, in the center of what she assumed would be the dance area, she looked around. Her knees drawn up to her chest as she brushed her tongue across her lips slowly. Those dark locks spilling down around her shoulders as she rested her chin in her hands. Finding herself completely alone, she allowed a genuine smile to cross her lips as she thought over the dance and everything that it entailed. Honestly, she was looking forward to it. It was really the first official dance she had ever been to. Sure, there were things that they tried to call dances at the orphanage and then there had been dance classes when she first moved in with her parents...but this, well this was something new entirely and she couldn't wait.
Though, with the risk of being caught looming over her, she quickly wiped the smile off her face and got back to business, pushing herself up to stand and moving toward a box that held a few random decorations that people had brought in, in hopes of having them used. Looking through it, she would nod with a bit of approval over what she saw, and would then go about picking up the box and carting it off with her to the side of the dance floor. Dumping out the contents of the box, she lowered herself back to the ground and sprawled out, her mind working a mile a minute to pull up any and all images she had stored about concerning the era, hands idly working the various decorations together...She wasn't really paying attention to what she was creating, simply allowing her mind to work it over and assuming when it was done, whatever it was would look amazing. She had always had that little gift, of being able to work without thinking directly upon what she was doing.....her hands just always seemed to know what to do.
It took awhile, but by the time she was done, she had managed to create a sign for the dance. It was very reminiscent of something you would see from the era in question, just a random advertisement sign of sorts, though of course she had added in a bit of her own personal flare. A few feathers ( since they seemed so popular during that time )...a few strands of beads and fake pearls. Just enough to make it a bit flashy, very fitting for the time period in which it was supposed to represent, then of course, in small lettering in the lower left hand corner was her signature. It was a very detailed piece of work, and though she knew that nobody would ever notice that it was her who had made it, she signed her name just the same. If for no other reason than to take pride in her work later, during the dance, in a silent manner, much like she did any time she created something.
Standing up, she cleaned up her mess and then moved to hang the sign where it would be passed quite frequently during the dance. It wasn't like it could be missed, she hadn't gone small in creating it, that was for sure....And all in all, she was rather proud of her accomplishment.
With that done, she would leave.....She still had to go shopping for the appropriate outfit for the evening's event. That was going to be the tricky part, because quite honestly, Aryanna wanted to dress a bit differently than what she assumed the other girls would be dressing as. So yeah, it was going to take a bit of hunting on her part to find the perfect outfit.
_____________________________________________________________________
Three hours of shopping at various vintage stores, and still she had not managed to come up with anything, but luckily, the last store she tried had a rather nice little outfit that she was sure would suit her just fine.
It wasn't one of those flapper dresses that were typical to women of that time, but instead something that leaned a bit more toward what was typical of the 1920's male. She knew that it didn't exactly speak of tradition, to see a girl wearing such a thing, but that didn't matter to her. She wasn't one of these girls that had a date to sit and worry about dressing to match or anything...she was going purely of her own accord and on her own...therefore she could wear whatever the hell she wanted. Right? Right.
Moving to the front desk, she laid the outfit down upon the counter. There would have to be some modifications made to it in order to get it to fit her small, petite form, but nothing that she couldn't do herself in the hours of her many sleepless nights. It could be her new hobby, at least until the time of the dance, because God knew she would be tweaking things here and there to make sure that it was perfect, not so much for anyone else's benefit but more so for her own.
Paying the woman behind the counter, she waited until the outfit was sacked up and then would leave the shop and head home. She couldn't wait to get started on it, and besides, it wasn't like she had anything else to do tonight...Her parents were again, out of town on business, so that left Aryanna alone in the house, just like all the other times before....this would definitely help to distract from the loneliness, if only for a bit.
OOC: Word count 1320....
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Post by Cael Seran on May 7, 2012 15:42:35 GMT -6
Cael Seran wasn’t the sort to get involved in school activities particularly with his dissociative personality that some may consider being a loner or even a lone-leader as he preferred to call it. So having waken up at the crack of dawn the idea settled into his mind to take a proactive manner about this whole “dance committee” deal-e-o, daring to be different he would take a leadership role. Popping out of the shower he’d strap up into a fine suit dressed to impress and ready to take authorities control of the meeting. Sitting at the back of the discussion room he’d keep his mouth shut but a grin on his face listening to the ideas.
Prohibition, man was Cael a fan of that idea. It was an era that he felt that he was robbed from born to be that lone sort of gangster-pimp with the strong arm of weaponry and family honor invested into the politics that was the world. With one hand he kept his private life and his other steadily invested in private affairs of others pulling all the strings. Stepping up Cael would make an approach.
“If no one else minds, I’ll be taking a supervising role.”
His brow rose, flashing a cool smile to the group immediately flattering all the cute girls in the room, even most of the ugly ones, and the gay boys. That was almost a majority if it wasn’t for a teacher supervisor shaking his head in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Not a chance Seran, you’re working like the rest.”
His audacious voice breaking that allure of his charm and quickly moving to snap behind Cael locking up his arm. Cael would only respond with a childish smile offering up a little bit of a struggle working to unbind himself as much of a fighter as he thought himself to be going to war with a tree trunk fashioned arm left him somewhat at a disadvantage.
“Where do you want me coach?”
Cael laugh showing his efforts at surrender before being pushed back into the fray of his workplace. It just so happened that when you stepped into a role of power without any real fallback you were stricken by the worst of jobs, or in the dump. Cael was gifted with both, his sleeves rolled up and coat tossed away, the boy would be left to hulking large bags of trash away from the construction area and dumping them in the garbage out back. Beads of sweat crawling up his back and neck Cael was pouting and moping that despite his charming façade it was hard to allure people when you smelled of filth. Each time he returned back to the main room people’s noses would turn up in disgust and the coach would offer something of a stifled laugh. Oh he’d pay. A plan set in mind as Cael finished up the rest of the trash only to strip down walking around the school in little more than his boxer drawers and shoes, his dirty clothes stuffed into a bag over his shoulder as he glistened in the sunlight to highlight the sweat at his nape.
“Thanks Coach, I’m out.”
A small laugh before getting the hell off of campus drawing stares as he went, enough so that the painters misspelt drinks, ‘Drunks’. A calm laugh looking back at his small handiwork, not exactly devious but that would be but a start to return and victimize the coach by the time the dance came around. He would scurry off back home walking in the door only to be met by his mother and Ira both staring with disgusted glances at the fact that he reeked of filth. “Not a word!”
Hidden away behind his room doors he’d throw the back into a bin marking it quickly with a radioactive marker not to touch it again, ever. Damn that’d been one of his favorite suits. Angry the boy pulled aside a side door revealing twenty more just like it however that would be passed on the boy quickly delving into the shower powering on the shampoo and deodorants to suppress the smell but by this time it’d soaked up in his nostrils making him go mad with the taste of it everywhere. His shower had turned into a decontamination attempt falling short only a few moments from the dance quick to bustle out and get dressed, he’d had his suit and hat on reserve for the longest time having loved this era. His phone however would slip out being dialed in a familiar number.
“Aryanna, care to join me tonight?” It wasn’t quite a question so much as a direct statement; you’re going with me be there in twenty. WC: 796
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Post by Kevala Katashi on May 7, 2012 16:09:04 GMT -6
I don't approve my own stuff...
BUT!!.... Cael is awarded his +5 EXP and the $500 has been added to your account.
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Post by Alistair Warden on May 7, 2012 21:15:01 GMT -6
*Approves Aryanna's shizz, +5 Exp and +$500*
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Post by Ray V. Williams on May 8, 2012 20:45:51 GMT -6
DAY 1 "1920's? The fuck is dis shit?"A "Get to Know You Dance" based on the 1920's era. A time where black men and women had no rights and excluded from soceity. How the fuck was he supposed to get excited by this? Ray would take the flyer from off the bulliten board, crumple it up, and place it in the trash. DAY 2 Ray passed by the flyer again. He still hated the whole idea. He hated dances to begin with, the whole time period part was just offensive. With a scowl on his face Ray would stare at the poster and walk away. DAY 3 Ray walks by that stupid poster again. Just some retarded ass dances for a bunch of retards to get to know each other. He wanted no part in it. However this time Ray would stare at the poster a bit longer. No ripping or scowling this time. DAY 4 Ray stops in front of that poster again. His face is stoic, but there's no anger in it this time. Slowly his lips begin to crack a small barely noticable smile. He has an idea now, he knows how this could be fun. Ray takes out his cellphone calling up one of his buddies. "Hey Montel. Yeah, it's Ray. Listen, I got an idea I know you're gunna want in on..."DAY 5 Ray walks around the school going right past the poster still talking on his cellphone as if he never put it down. "Yeah, it's all being paid for by me. I just need you get your hands on a couple rides for us. No. No I don't care how you do it, just get it done. Because I fucking said so Moe!"He's promoting synergy. DAY 6 IT IS SATURDAY! THERE IS NO SCHOOL! However Ray is still at work on his project. He's currently at an auto shop barking out orders in an angry fashion. "No! Black and gold you fuckin' retard! This is MY money so you better not fuck this shit up!" DAY 7 IT IS SUNDAY! THE DAY OF REST! RAY DOES NOTHING! HORAY! DAY 8 Ray comes to class on this beautiful Monday. However he is too busy planning things out to care about classes. Once again he can be heard on his cellphone. "Yeah. Mhmm. Black and gold with a little bit of white. Because that was the fashion in that day. I don't fucking know! Look, you're getting paid for what I want, not whatever you think will look better, got that? Good. Now when can I pick it up?"DAY 9 Ray is still not focused on his school work. He's had too much planning to do. And in a rare occurance Ray actually sounds excited. "No way. No way. No fucking way! You're bullshitting me! For real? Fuck you, you're lying. For how much? Hooooly shit! See! THis is why I trust you with things. Just make sure that big mother fucker can fit in the garage. Yeah, I'll check it out right after school. Later."People are starting to watch Ray in the hallway incredibly confused. DAY 10 Ray arrives at the garage to see the final product of all his efforts! He opens up the door to see something greater than even he imagined. Him and six of his friends have created quite a sight for this 1920's themed "get to know each other party thing". Now everything was all set and ready to go. All they needed now was the proper music. Something Ray had up his sleeve from the start. DAY OF THE DANCE! The garage rested not too far away from the location of the dance. Ray's preperation were complete. He and six of his friends were all decked out in over the top Steampunk styles fitting for the 1920's dance! How they came in was the impressive part. Ray rode this bike as the leader of the motorcade. Three old cars had been modified in a simliar function. And in the back was a super duty Monster Truck also decked out in 20's Steampunk attire. Together they rode to the dance blarring their songThis was going to be GLOURIOUS! (word count: 805)
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Post by Kevala Katashi on May 8, 2012 20:51:50 GMT -6
Approved....+5 EXP and monies to be added to your account. Also mad props for creativity on this one <3
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Post by eun on May 9, 2012 18:04:38 GMT -6
The 1920's. While in the United States it was the time period when alcohol was prohibited and fashion was becoming more prominent, in Korea however, it was a different story. During that time period, Korea had been under Japanese rule, and it wasn't until 1910 that the Koreans began an independence movement. As such, when Seung-Kyun had passed by the poster plastered up on the wall near his locker, his mind immediately thought of the stories his grandfather had told him and his older twin brother and sister of how he had been part of that very independence movement. With those posters just about everywhere, eventually, even his sister had learned about the dance, and with the two of them collaborating together, they eventually decided to honor their grandfather by Seung-Kyun and Seungyeon dressing up as one the members of the Korean Liberation Army, which had men and women alike as members. Giving their grandfather a phone call as soon as they got home after school, Seungho still out working, after having a bit of a casual conversation with him, the two of the them reassuring him that they and Seungho were doing fine and sending their greetings and prayers to their grandmother on Seungho's behalf as well, they asked him if they could borrow his and their grandmother's clothing from their time in the Liberation Army, to which he was taken aback by, but nonetheless, agreed to. With their costumes decided and on the way to New York City, the two of them would begin figuring out how they would contribute to the dance, Seung-Kyun eventually coming up with an idea... - The Next Day - Heading to his favorite music store after setting up the DJ equipment that belonged to him and his siblings on the stage for the dance at school, Seung-Kyun would immediately head to the oldies section, his sister tagging along to help him out. Flipping through the various CD's located in the bins and shelves, the music selection was pretty extensive, they wanted to cover as broad of a range of music as they possibly could, while avoiding boring their classmates and the other students to death with all those slow, ballroom dancing music. A few minutes later, the two of them had a pretty big stack of CD's each, which they brought to the cashier's counter. Now, they weren't buying the entire lot of CD's, no way many, that would cost more than an arm and a leg. Instead, they were going to rent the CD's, and would bring the entire lot back as soon as the dance was over. Seung-Kyun was going to be the DJ for the event, because this way, the students didn't have to cough up the cash to get a DJ for the dance, and Seung-Kyun would be able to keep an eye on the CD's and keep track of them the entire night of the dance. The two of them carrying two bags of CD's each as they exited out of the store, older twin sister and younger twin brother would excitedly chat to each other and generally just spend some quality sibling time together. "Hey Kyunnie, you going with anyone to the dance?""Huh? Why're you asking me that Yeon?""Why not? Is it crime to ask my baby brother?""Not really, but I don't really know anyone well enough yet to ask." Well... except for Ki Yong...And to be honest, there really was only one person Seung-Kyun even remotely considered asking, but he wasn't exactly sure if she'd say yes or not. "Besides sis, that's the point of the dance, to get to know other people. What about you? There anyone you want to ask to the dance?""I guess so... Huh? Not at the moment, I don't know anyone else well enough yet Kyunnie, c'mon!""Alright alright, chill sis. C'mon, let's get home, these bags are heavy..."The older sister and baby brother duo hoofing it home to their apartment, upon reaching their apartment, a package was waiting for them in their mail slot/box on the ground floor. Giving one bag to his sister, Seung-Kyun grabbed the package and the two of them hurriedly headed into the elevator and to their apartment loft. After putting the bags of CD's down, Seungyeon would open the package, and find it was the clothing their grandfather had sent to them for the dance, Seung-Kyun's righteous army clothing and Seungyeon's female Liberation Army clothing. Taking his clothing to his room, Seung-Kyun would close his door and after laying his clothes out on his bed, pulled his cellphone out and dialed Ki Yong's number. "Yo Ki Yong, can I talk to your little sister? Hey Cho, want to go with me to the dance coming up?"(OOC: Number of words minus BB coding and this out of character note: 833)
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Post by Kevala Katashi on May 10, 2012 15:20:27 GMT -6
Approved Lee +5 EXP awarded, money added to your account.
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Post by Michael Cypren on May 10, 2012 19:41:38 GMT -6
Michael Cypren was in a bit of a pickle, you see he hadn’t had any intent of attending this dance, it was optional after all. But as it just so happened he was being taken by a group of bullies to arrange the decorations for the night. As it were the group of big, hulking, tough guys were also on the lazy side and didn’t want to partake in their detention punishment and instead were trading it off on Michael under duress from a heavy punch to the face. At first he tried to stand up for himself, fight the group of bullies but as it worked out he received not a gift for his efforts but rather a black eye. Swollen and black he worked to tidying the restrooms while his dictator overlords stood watchful at the doors.
“It’s not like we enjoy this four-eyes, don’t fight it and we won’t have to hang round.”
Michael opened his mouth to respond but his watch-guard would shift his features into an angry expression, brows furrowed with malcontent, Michael would quickly turn down his hues and get back to work with scrubbing the toilets and making sure all the stalls were in order. Only one of course giving him issues as it exploded half-way though cleaning the stall making Michael reek of shit. Once that was dealt with his guard would pull him out by the collar hefting him around like a plaything, Michael went complacently not intending to fight the power but the stench eventually overpowered his foe figure.
“Gross, fucking hell nerd-patrol, clean yo stank up!” A rather forceful slap to the back of his head knocking Michael onto all foes pouring the water bucket he’d been holding all over the front of his shirt. “Great move there kid, clean this shit up.”
No helping gesture as the bully trotted off his heavy feet leaving momentary indentures to the streams of water all around him. In fact nobody helped, no gestures looking down to give him assistance or anything of the like. He hated this school, he hated people they were nothing but such selfish spiteful assholes and there was nothing he could do about it. Fighting back the head behind his eyes Michael would feel the painful stings dig into him, the pressure in his chest that furiously trembled and burned making his throat clamp shut his breath hinge and body begin to shake. He was angry that much was for sure but too weak to express it.
“Heh…” It might sound like a laugh but it was a gesture preventing him from breaking out into tears.
Michael then ran as fast as he could, the bucket’s handle latched around his wrist, the mop held at a distance although the pair clanging together making a loud emanating noise as he hustled at top speed to the men’s locker room. All the way a recognizable stench trailing behind. Once he’d gotten away, behind closed doors he hid in a corner and let it all go. Those waves of pain and restraint all tumbled out of him like a tidal wave, the stinging pain in his chest left an open rift and his eyes burned but were quickly cooled by swift running tears. The mop and bucket tossed away Michael would hold his kneecaps in a fetal position soaking in the moment of his cries letting the responding silence play against his ears to remind him of how much alone he was.
“AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”
Those hands pulled into balled fists would deject backwards into lockers leaving a small and mostly unnoticeable dent before holding the backs of his palms reminded of what pain felt like. His upper jaw locking over his bottom lip and holding back another scream he’d try to pull back the tears. It was a slow process but they’d slow and then stop, the stinging pain behind his eyes still there the emptiness feeling far too strong to be forgotten but where it was weakness before it now became strength. A medal of honor of sorts reminding him of this pain and eventually became his hand of aid getting the boy to his feet before wiping his cheeks free of tears and out to get his costume for tonight. There was more to be done and perhaps he could make things better…
WC: 724
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Post by Kevala Katashi on May 10, 2012 19:43:53 GMT -6
Damnit he makes me sad!! +5 EXP and money added to your account.
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Post by Ira Seran on May 11, 2012 3:30:54 GMT -6
Ira waited for her work to arrive. Everyone was hustling around making this and that look pretty. Ira had no clue why she had to be here and to be involved. She would want to go to the dance only because it was a breeding ground for drama. That didn't mean she wanted to finger paint pretty little pictures on posters to hang over the school... the whole school was here! Need they notify themselves with mindless art?
Apparently Miranda did.
"This is below me."
"Oh come on... Try getting your hands dirty."
Ira smiled. She knew the girl was referring to the paint sitting before them, but Ira couldn't help but think of the minds she could bend. Though she would simply answer the girl with a shake of her head. Miranda, in turn, shrugged and returned to painting with cursive penmenship as Ira's face twisted into that of disgust at the thought of even touch paint.
Ira was going to contribute to the whole "let's work together to make this dance" thing... but she herself didn't want to do anything like heavy lifting or as how Miranda worded it "getting her hands dirty." Snapping out of the day dream she was having she noticed a man in a blue jump suit. He was holding a clipboard and was scanning the room for someone. All it took was for Ira to read the logo on his shirt to know that he was looking for her.
"Ah. Man of Hour." he looked at her... obviously questioning her ability to build a structured sentence... Though she smiled and ignored it thinking she had nailed it perfectly. She would grab for the clipboard and give him the signature for the bill she was given. "Set it up over there... and have the speakers on every single corner."
A dance wasn't a dance without music. In her mind... she saved the fucking day by hiring movers and bringing in her mothers and her musical equipment like the speakers... the stereo the mic (if they needed to make some form of announcement at the dance)... you know... stuff like that. BUT not only that... she hired a DJ. He wasn't going to spin or anything... but he was going to put the playlist together... receive requests... maybe do a few remixes here and there if he got bored... He was getting paid enough to do anything extra that would blow them out of the water...
"But there is already a set up...."
Ira rolled her eyes.
"This is shit. Mine isn't not. You are paid to move... Now move."
He would shake his head in annoyance before ordering his crew. "Out with the old in with the new... come on guys lets hustle." Ira smiled being pleased at herself before she returned to Miranda who watched the whole display.
"There was already a sound system...."
"Music is my blood. I'm am rich. Therefore my stuff is better." She would smile as she watched the men take out what she thought was shit and bring in what she thought was gold. So here she was... contributing to dance by supervising the movers and making sure they weren't banging up her possessions. "Miranda... Would you like me to buy you a costume? If you seen with me I don't not want you look like a pathetic waste of time." At a moment like this... Ira was actually genuinely trying to be nice. Her wording needs a little work done to it.... and not just because of the grammatical errors.
"I....I guess.... If it isn't a bother..."
"Of course not."
Ira would hold her hand out to help Miranda up, though as soon as she was about to reach for it... Ira pulled it back and started heading off. "You had paint in your palms... you understand." Miranda let out a huff of air before she got up and followed the younger girl out the door. "I know this good place. They hem and have authentic clothing."
"Wow... I understood that sentence."
"Wow... I really hate you."
That shut Miranda up faster than you can snap your fingers.
Word count w/o coding: 704
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Post by Kevala Katashi on May 11, 2012 14:10:19 GMT -6
Ira approved +5 EXP and money added to your account
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Post by Cynara Kamber on May 11, 2012 22:21:29 GMT -6
Cynara wasn't entirely sure about this whole dance thing. In fact, she honestly wouldn't have even thought about going if not for the fact that her parents insisted that she do so. They thought it would be good for her to get out and socialize and her Mother had even promised to take care of the whole “dress” thing as well as helping Cyn in getting ready for the event and everything.
All of course to be done “after” she got done helping out with the dance committee and getting the school ready. So, she had reluctantly agreed. Now, here she was, with a bunch of other girls that typically wouldn't even give her the time of day, being prodded and nudged about, all the while listening to them as they snickered and laughed behind her back.
She tried to stay optimistic, tried to tell herself that they were laughing at something else, and not her, with her holey jeans and her rather ratty looking shoes; not to mention the fact that she hadn't been able to find one of her own shirts this morning and had been forced to wear one of the t-shirts that belonged to her cousin.....her male cousin. So naturally, it was too big and kind of hung on her figure, making her look much more the frumpy little nerd than was usual, her blonde locks pulled up and pinned into place atop her head.
”Umm, Cynthia, or whatever your name is, you should put these out.” One of the members of the popular girls coming up and shoving a large stack of white tablecloths into her hands, so many that it ended up being too much for a girl, as small as Cynara, to see over. So, naturally, she would try and stumble forward, tripping over a few of the longer pieces of material that hung down by her feet, and ending up landing flat on her face, with only the material of the tablecloths to cushion the blow. Needless to say, her face was alright, but her glasses took the brunt of the damage, being cracked across the right lens and distorting her vision as the other girls pointed and laughed at her.
Feeling the urge to cry start to take hold, she was quick to push it back, forcing instead a little smile on her face as she got up and went about finishing up what they had tasked her to do. Trying hard to ignore the stupid nicknames they kept trying to make out of her name, and avoiding the way that they followed her around, making random animal noises behind her back, a clear reference to the fact that they found her to worth nothing more than an animal of some form.
Finally, when she was done with the last one, she would let out a heavy breath and look around at all the work she had done. Though as she tried to survey the work, she found it rather hard given the way that her glasses were currently cracked. However, her pride in her work would be short lived, as she moved to go and adjust one of the tablecloths and was met with a circle of girls blocking her off. Of course, she tried to back away, but the other three moved in behind her, a pair of hands shoving her forward, causing her to stumble into the ones in front of her, only to be shoved back. Their snide comments, their laughter and the way they pulled at her clothes as they commented on them was all a big blur to her, a little hitch in her breath as she struggled to keep from crying.
”Hey! You girls knock that off!”
The sound of the girls basketball coach catching them all off guard as she came storming up, causing the group of girls to part.
”Are you alright sweetheart?”
Her hand reaching out for Cynara's shoulder, though the girl flinched away and shook her head and once again forced another smile on her lips, looking up at the older woman with those silvery blue eyes brimming with tears and nodded. She didn't say anything, because she knew that if she did, then she would break down and start crying right then and there. No, she would just glance to the other girls and then quickly take off running. In fact, she didn't stop until she had reached her apartment which was a few blocks away from the school. Flying through the door and past her mom who was fussing over some dress or something, not that Cynara paid much attention. Oh sure, she heard the woman's voice, concern lacing her tone as she noted the tears which had already started to pour down those pale little cheeks, but Cyn ignored her and ran to her room, slamming the door and falling onto her bed where she finally let loose, crying into her pillow as she hugged it to her and sobbed almost uncontrollably. Only stopping to pick her head up long enough to peel her glasses from her face and throw them away to the other side of the room, and then quickly burying herself into her pillow again.
It was some time later when she heard her Mother slowly creep into the room, though she said nothing, she just came in, hung something on the closet door and quietly left the room. She knew better than to ask because she would get no reply...Cynara didn't tell her parents about what happened at school, or anywhere else. No, she kept it to herself, because it was just selfish to tell....But when Cynara finally dared to look up, she would see a very pretty black dress hanging there on the closet, along with a note that said
Hesitantly, Cyn would get up, pulling the dress off the hanger and holding it to her as she moved to stand in front of the mirror. She loved it, it was probably one of the most beautiful dresses she had ever had, she just wished she was pretty enough to pull it off. But....she would wear it, if for no other reason than to make her Mom happy...especially since she knew that it had likely cost more than either of her parents could afford at the time....She just hoped the other girls wouldn't make fun of her too badly for it...She would hate to have them see her cry....
Word Count: 1139
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Legion
Fresh Blood
[M:5150]
Posts: 580
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Post by Legion on May 12, 2012 11:33:05 GMT -6
Roaring 20's dance. Not exactly Patrick's thing but he guessed he had to help out now. Which really sucked because Patrick wasn't exactly into the whole school spirit sort of thing. He was one to just stand back and let other do what they would. But as it would turn out being the new School Captain Patrick kind of had to step up and not dodge this. Which led him down the path of, why was he the school captain again? Oh right because the fight hadn't exactly worked out the way he planned. He hadn't been entirely aware that there had been no captain before him. His problem he figured. However there were perks to being the school captain it would seem, especially when it came to these types of stupid things.
You see, instead of doing actual work, painting, building stages and what not Patrick was simply the guy that was going around posting flyers. Easy enough job that he could do it on his own, no one to bother him or baby sit him peachy. So of course he was putzing around taking his good old time. Smoking a cigarette he aimlessly wandered down the hallway. He found a poster board that was empty and so well he slapped a few of his flyers up, not particularly neatly but they got up all the same. How many of the damn things did he have left? A hundred? Patrick sighed, and he had only gotten rid of ten just now. Well, he figured that he this was better then going to class anyway, so he would keep up his mission of getting it done in not genuine hurry.
Patrick yawned, wandering down another hallway, smoke leaving his lips. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, though with a chuckle he decided that it would be the furthest point from here. He was in no real hurry to get back to class, and he did have to do his pillar duties after all, a chuckle coming from that. Hell if he didn't appreciate that joke who would?
The long walk turned out to be pretty interesting though. Finding a fight or two he broke that shit up, not that he cared to get involved in people's battles but apparently that was part of his being school captain gig. It was fun though, most of the lower level fights though were painful as hell to be a part of, leaving Patrick to play games like dodge and shove until people learned their place. It generally left people a little humiliated but otherwise unharmed, and well it left Patrick without having to clean the mess up or telling others to.
Patrick took a sip of whiskey, pulling the bottle out of his cargo pocket as he finally made his way to his destination. He would spend a few minutes smoking and drinking, just looking at the poster board before decided to half assedly slap ten more of the damn things up there. Stepping back and marveling at his half assed work he chuckled, knowing that nobody would care, probably. With their fearless superintendent at the helm, or sitting directing others to the helm, Patrick figured publicity was pretty well taken care of. Hell the whole school was practically involved setting up this little event. With that thought in mind Patrick shrugged. The few that weren't helping set up? Well they were no doubt aware of the dance, by simple fact of those rounded up and being forced to help were bitching about it constantly.
No, Patrick decided he was done, dumping the few hundred more flyers he was supposed to put of in the trash. What? Twenty was fine right? Besides his reasons for being lazy were valid, so it would seem. Patrick would grin, doing just as much work as their fearless leader. Hell, now it was time to go prepare. And by that Patrick meant get his stuff in order for the night. The irishman figured he needed a flask. It was the twenties after all. Prohibition dictated that he couldn't drink outright. The flask would take care of that, and well alcohol was really iconic of the era anyway...
word count: 712
EDIT: First post! XD
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