"Well... thats the thing... I was unconsious for the last ten or so miuites... And my head still hurts..."
((Continued in: Sister Talk))
How many ways can you define the word "cow"?*
Darcy shook her head at the uselessness of the situation. Was she the only smart girl cheerleader? Being a friend she guided Mariavel out of the hall, out of the school and toward the locker room in the gym. It was time for reality to snap back in for Mariavel. "Come on, cheer practice will be starting soon..."
((Continued In: Sister Talk))
((Continued In: Sister Talk))
Bryan scrunched his face up in an expression of bewilderment and irritation. He looked at the clock beside him on the classroom wall and let out a deep sigh, dropping his fists in resignation.
"Well," he remarked bitterly as he shouldered his backpack, "I'm off. Later assholes." With that he shoved his way past the two freeloaders and, giving Mattlock and Kingston a salute with his index and middle fingers, strode off down the hallway.
((Continued in Doin' Rounds))
"Well," he remarked bitterly as he shouldered his backpack, "I'm off. Later assholes." With that he shoved his way past the two freeloaders and, giving Mattlock and Kingston a salute with his index and middle fingers, strode off down the hallway.
((Continued in Doin' Rounds))
Jack closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and lowered his own fists, allowing them to fall to his sides, loose, but ready, in case anyone actually did start anything, which he now saw as unlikely. His own rage was almost entirely dissipated and his control just shy of fully returned to him.
He couldn't help feel slightly cheated, though he wished he could.
This was the side Jack tried to hide from the rest of the world, the violent, jealousy driven brawler. In a matter of seconds, he recounted over in his head yet again that first time it had manifested itself...
Night time, possibly ten, eleven or twelve, it may even be morning, no one knows and no one cares. The clocks, like all other furniture, decorative or otherwise, with the excpetion of the stereo, have been removed, put away safely in the garage to allow more freedom to the two or three hundred teenagers huddled into this single house party, to get totally wild.
Jack, as always, has acquired himself a role within the party. He can never be a bland, faceless member of the monotonous masses, but must always stand out somehow. Tonight he has taken control of the stereo, insisting he maintain the responsibility for all that is blasted forth from those commendable speakers.
Wave after wave of hardcore dance song assails the gathered teens, and lost in drunken ecstasy they flail madly to every explosive beat and disjointed rythym that brutalises their ear-drums.
However from his space by the speakers, Jacks mind is solely focused on the activities of one girl, Elizabeth Waters.
They have never spoken, despite three years of school together, and an infatuation on the behalf of Jack for equally as long. In fact, it is this obsession which has driven him from confronting her, but tonight, under the effects of a bottle and a half of Hock 11.5%, things will finally change.
Wading through the wall of his peers, Jack makes his way over to the smiling, chatting Elizabeth. As he nears her, he is sure the names Marx and Engel are mentioned and he is forced to grin rather goofily at the cutness of Elizabeth. Even at a party she is so single minded
Jack steps before her, rudely, though with no harmful intention, blocking her from her surrounding friends.
Does she have a request?
Firestarter?
A woman after his own heart. Wait a minute, he will put it on for her.
Jack throws himself back towards the stereo, fumbles for the Prodgigy CD's, checking for which one has the live version, Lets do things properly. Finding it, he places it into the CD slot and nods a little as that timeless intro starts up and washes itself over thr room.
Pleased with himself after his first encounter with the love of his life, he swiftly returns to her, only he cannot find her where she was originally. He looks left and right, searching for any of her friends or just anyone who is likely to have seen her, but when he asks they are all too drunk and self-involved to provide any help.
Leaving the crowded main room, Jack confusedly makes his way upstairs, with the intention of refreshing himself in the bathroom.
There is a light bang to his left as he reaches the landing.
It is coming from the bedroom.
Curious, and with butterflies of horrified aprehension, he open the door and peers in.
There she is, thrust into a corner with some guy, no not some guy, but a real friend who knew only too well of Jack's interests in Elizabeth.
A rage builids.
She needs to go to the toilet.
She leaves the room.
Jack hides in a shadow.
She is fully dressed and still quite sober, thank god.
Jack enters the room...
Jack had only ever been beaten up once, when he was thirteen and it was by a fully grown man, drunk and looking for trouble, outside of a pub in the middle of the night. Jack did not enjoy it, and was sure it would not happen again.
He never studied any martial art, though his work in construction lead him to have impressive strength and a remarkble physique for a short seventeen year old. However when he fought this did not matter. His skill and strength meant nothing, he drew all his power from a hidden, sadistic rage.
Only in truth Jack hated violence, and was reluctant to ever admit he had ever had a fight, and even more reluctant to admit he had ever enjoyed having one, to those who refused to believe his first claim, and for the most part, his claims were true.
The real Jack was easy-going, friendly, a goody-goody rebel, Robin Hood. Well liked by the masses and only disliked by the unjust whom he had felt it necceasry to thwart (or attempt to) in the past. A bit of a clown and a joker, there was nothing bad about him at all.
It was something else, someone else, inside of him, that made behave how he did, and it was all connected to Elizabeth.
The boy who had been kissing Elizabeth did not know who attacked him, he was heavily concussed with a broken nose and one eye hanging loosely from it's socket. Nothing could be proved, no one was even suspected. Jack got away with it again.
Sometimes he wished he had not, that he had been caught then and there, at others, he smiled at the memory. A moment ago would have been one of those times, when the dark side took over.
Only why would it?
Elizabeth had not been harmed, threatened by anyone, nor had anyone tried to have any sort of way with her. No one had touched or spoken to her. Why had he switched and gone for Seth in that way?
He turned to see Mariavel leave.
Panom was still ready and waiting, as was John, but the moment had passed for Jack and he knew he could not fight, he did not want to fight and he had no reason to fight. He looked at Seth, who had not done or said anything in a little while:
"I don't need this Seth, if you want to fight you're going to have to find someone that does, because I'm content to walk away."
He couldn't help feel slightly cheated, though he wished he could.
This was the side Jack tried to hide from the rest of the world, the violent, jealousy driven brawler. In a matter of seconds, he recounted over in his head yet again that first time it had manifested itself...
Night time, possibly ten, eleven or twelve, it may even be morning, no one knows and no one cares. The clocks, like all other furniture, decorative or otherwise, with the excpetion of the stereo, have been removed, put away safely in the garage to allow more freedom to the two or three hundred teenagers huddled into this single house party, to get totally wild.
Jack, as always, has acquired himself a role within the party. He can never be a bland, faceless member of the monotonous masses, but must always stand out somehow. Tonight he has taken control of the stereo, insisting he maintain the responsibility for all that is blasted forth from those commendable speakers.
Wave after wave of hardcore dance song assails the gathered teens, and lost in drunken ecstasy they flail madly to every explosive beat and disjointed rythym that brutalises their ear-drums.
However from his space by the speakers, Jacks mind is solely focused on the activities of one girl, Elizabeth Waters.
They have never spoken, despite three years of school together, and an infatuation on the behalf of Jack for equally as long. In fact, it is this obsession which has driven him from confronting her, but tonight, under the effects of a bottle and a half of Hock 11.5%, things will finally change.
Wading through the wall of his peers, Jack makes his way over to the smiling, chatting Elizabeth. As he nears her, he is sure the names Marx and Engel are mentioned and he is forced to grin rather goofily at the cutness of Elizabeth. Even at a party she is so single minded
Jack steps before her, rudely, though with no harmful intention, blocking her from her surrounding friends.
Does she have a request?
Firestarter?
A woman after his own heart. Wait a minute, he will put it on for her.
Jack throws himself back towards the stereo, fumbles for the Prodgigy CD's, checking for which one has the live version, Lets do things properly. Finding it, he places it into the CD slot and nods a little as that timeless intro starts up and washes itself over thr room.
Pleased with himself after his first encounter with the love of his life, he swiftly returns to her, only he cannot find her where she was originally. He looks left and right, searching for any of her friends or just anyone who is likely to have seen her, but when he asks they are all too drunk and self-involved to provide any help.
Leaving the crowded main room, Jack confusedly makes his way upstairs, with the intention of refreshing himself in the bathroom.
There is a light bang to his left as he reaches the landing.
It is coming from the bedroom.
Curious, and with butterflies of horrified aprehension, he open the door and peers in.
There she is, thrust into a corner with some guy, no not some guy, but a real friend who knew only too well of Jack's interests in Elizabeth.
A rage builids.
She needs to go to the toilet.
She leaves the room.
Jack hides in a shadow.
She is fully dressed and still quite sober, thank god.
Jack enters the room...
Jack had only ever been beaten up once, when he was thirteen and it was by a fully grown man, drunk and looking for trouble, outside of a pub in the middle of the night. Jack did not enjoy it, and was sure it would not happen again.
He never studied any martial art, though his work in construction lead him to have impressive strength and a remarkble physique for a short seventeen year old. However when he fought this did not matter. His skill and strength meant nothing, he drew all his power from a hidden, sadistic rage.
Only in truth Jack hated violence, and was reluctant to ever admit he had ever had a fight, and even more reluctant to admit he had ever enjoyed having one, to those who refused to believe his first claim, and for the most part, his claims were true.
The real Jack was easy-going, friendly, a goody-goody rebel, Robin Hood. Well liked by the masses and only disliked by the unjust whom he had felt it necceasry to thwart (or attempt to) in the past. A bit of a clown and a joker, there was nothing bad about him at all.
It was something else, someone else, inside of him, that made behave how he did, and it was all connected to Elizabeth.
The boy who had been kissing Elizabeth did not know who attacked him, he was heavily concussed with a broken nose and one eye hanging loosely from it's socket. Nothing could be proved, no one was even suspected. Jack got away with it again.
Sometimes he wished he had not, that he had been caught then and there, at others, he smiled at the memory. A moment ago would have been one of those times, when the dark side took over.
Only why would it?
Elizabeth had not been harmed, threatened by anyone, nor had anyone tried to have any sort of way with her. No one had touched or spoken to her. Why had he switched and gone for Seth in that way?
He turned to see Mariavel leave.
Panom was still ready and waiting, as was John, but the moment had passed for Jack and he knew he could not fight, he did not want to fight and he had no reason to fight. He looked at Seth, who had not done or said anything in a little while:
"I don't need this Seth, if you want to fight you're going to have to find someone that does, because I'm content to walk away."
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Minase avatar by Kermit.
Disappointed with the lack of events that had unfolded, Tanesha sighed to herself and headed out the doorway, slinging her backpack over her shoulder in the process. The fight had turned out to be a total flop, like so many other things on this day. And here, she thought she might actually get to see something interesting. She supposed that at least one good thing did come out of this day though, and that was the fact that she got to see him.
Almost immediately thereafter, a forelorn expression appeared across Tanesha Lexx's stretched features. Her too-wide lips formed a small pout as she walked down the solitary confines of the hallway, lost in her own thoughts. Granted, she had gotten to see him today, but Tanesha, being the overly jealous person she was, had also taken notice of the fact that the Thai student she'd harbored a crush on since his transfer to Bathurst High School seemed to be taking an interest in someone far superior to her.
Groaning loudly at the thought of Elizabeth Waters, Tanesha continued to waddle her way down the hall at a leisurely pace, finally reaching her locker. Taking a moment to pull on the broken lock, the locker door swung open with ease, and Tanesha once again cursed to herself. Yet again, somebody had decided to use the rigged locker as their personal wastebasket. Ushering the trash out onto the floor, the African-American girl let her bag drop inside the contraption with a loud thud.
After a moment she began sifting through the mess that was her locker, a smile forming on her lips as she located what she had been searching for: the remainder of a king size Hershey bar. Sure, she and her mother had agreed a few weeks prior that Tanesha would go on a diet, if only for her own health. Her mother just didn't understand though! What else was a girl supposed to do when she'd had a day like today? Shaking her head at the thought, Tanesha unwrapped the candy bar and greedily took a large bite from it, savoring the chocolatey goodness for a moment.
With her free hand, she continued to pilfer in the locker until she uncovered the other item in her search. Pulling a black journal with red sharpie scrawls all over it from within the depths of her locker, Tanesha grabbed the stub of a pencil that had rolled out and now lay at her feet. Sure, it was probably childish that the girl was nearly an adult and still kept a diary, but hey, everyone needs a place to vent on THOSE days... and today was just one of those days. Placing the diary close to her chest with one hand while still gripping her candybar in the other, Tanesha continued down the hallway to find a secluded spot in which to write.
(Continued in: To My One True Confidante)
Almost immediately thereafter, a forelorn expression appeared across Tanesha Lexx's stretched features. Her too-wide lips formed a small pout as she walked down the solitary confines of the hallway, lost in her own thoughts. Granted, she had gotten to see him today, but Tanesha, being the overly jealous person she was, had also taken notice of the fact that the Thai student she'd harbored a crush on since his transfer to Bathurst High School seemed to be taking an interest in someone far superior to her.
Groaning loudly at the thought of Elizabeth Waters, Tanesha continued to waddle her way down the hall at a leisurely pace, finally reaching her locker. Taking a moment to pull on the broken lock, the locker door swung open with ease, and Tanesha once again cursed to herself. Yet again, somebody had decided to use the rigged locker as their personal wastebasket. Ushering the trash out onto the floor, the African-American girl let her bag drop inside the contraption with a loud thud.
After a moment she began sifting through the mess that was her locker, a smile forming on her lips as she located what she had been searching for: the remainder of a king size Hershey bar. Sure, she and her mother had agreed a few weeks prior that Tanesha would go on a diet, if only for her own health. Her mother just didn't understand though! What else was a girl supposed to do when she'd had a day like today? Shaking her head at the thought, Tanesha unwrapped the candy bar and greedily took a large bite from it, savoring the chocolatey goodness for a moment.
With her free hand, she continued to pilfer in the locker until she uncovered the other item in her search. Pulling a black journal with red sharpie scrawls all over it from within the depths of her locker, Tanesha grabbed the stub of a pencil that had rolled out and now lay at her feet. Sure, it was probably childish that the girl was nearly an adult and still kept a diary, but hey, everyone needs a place to vent on THOSE days... and today was just one of those days. Placing the diary close to her chest with one hand while still gripping her candybar in the other, Tanesha continued down the hallway to find a secluded spot in which to write.
(Continued in: To My One True Confidante)
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Lyndi avatar by Kermit.
-
ZigZaggerty*
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Fri Sep 07, 2018 3:52 pm
"Eh, this isn't worth it." John said as he turned around and walked away, he quickly turned back for a moment and looked right at Jack.
"Hey man, I'll see you in Science!" John shouted, turning away he smiled. He was glad he got out of that fight, it was making him angry.
((Continued in: Down the Stairs, Your Ride Awaits))
"Hey man, I'll see you in Science!" John shouted, turning away he smiled. He was glad he got out of that fight, it was making him angry.
((Continued in: Down the Stairs, Your Ride Awaits))
The silence that had ensued was answer enough for all parties, there was to be no fight.
Panom, Jack and Elizabeth each made their way in their own direction.
(I know its not much but I just wanted to finish this thread off because I left myself hanging a bit)
((Panom continued in: Nostalgia (Grounds of Bathurst)))
Panom, Jack and Elizabeth each made their way in their own direction.
(I know its not much but I just wanted to finish this thread off because I left myself hanging a bit)
((Panom continued in: Nostalgia (Grounds of Bathurst)))
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Minase avatar by Kermit.
To say Richard was disappointed that nothing came of the standoff would be quite an understatement. He had riled himself up into the state of excitement only a fight could put him in, while having an extreme headache, and nothing happened. As Bryan, Jack, Panom and Elizabeth all left to wherever the new bell signaled them to go, Richard sighed and dropped his fists, looking at Seth, who had stood there stone still since he had arrived.
This is why I should be in charge. Richard said, gritting his teeth very slightly. This kind of indecisiveness is why we're so fuggin' weak! We could be the top dogs if I were calling the shots, those punks would've been fucking paste... he then stopped his wishful thinking, realizing it was just that. Wishful. Seth was a far better fighter than Richard, and even if he weren't he knew people in the Mafia who'd have Richard killed. Internally sighing, he turned to leave.
"Well boss, I've got to go. You know how the faculty gets when we're late. Ciao." and with that he headed for his next period.
OOC: Continued elsewhere.
This is why I should be in charge. Richard said, gritting his teeth very slightly. This kind of indecisiveness is why we're so fuggin' weak! We could be the top dogs if I were calling the shots, those punks would've been fucking paste... he then stopped his wishful thinking, realizing it was just that. Wishful. Seth was a far better fighter than Richard, and even if he weren't he knew people in the Mafia who'd have Richard killed. Internally sighing, he turned to leave.
"Well boss, I've got to go. You know how the faculty gets when we're late. Ciao." and with that he headed for his next period.
OOC: Continued elsewhere.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Jacob avatar by Kermit.