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Post by tig on Oct 15, 2010 5:35:15 GMT -5
{heelsonthesidewalkbeggingforabackbeat}  • don't worry i like to fight it out dirty •[/center][/size] "Hey all you Wizard fans,
stand up and clap your hands!"
Darcy belted out to an empty set of bleachers in the old gym. Her teeny tiny blue shorts exposed her bronzed legs, her white tank top hugging her torso. Clapping her hands thickly, her fixed cheer smile widened when she heard the echo. She started to step from side to side with her set rhythm.
"Now that you got the beat,
get up and stomp your feet!"
She stomped her feet in the same manner she had clapped her hands, her white sneakers and ankle socks gleaming on the dirty wood floor.
"Now that you got the groove,
lets see you really move!"
She kicked her leg upward, feeling it brush her nose. When it replanted to the ground she spun, rocking her hips to the music in her head.
"Bang bang choo choo train
Come on Wizards do your thing
Get it! get it!
Got it! got it!
Uh! and let it roll!
Uh! and let it roll!"
Anyone who saw her move, heard her cheer, or saw her smile could tell that she loved what she was doing. Even her nail polish matched the schools colors, gold and emerald, seem to implicate an amount of school spirit. She finished off her set with two cart wheels, the second sliding gracefully into a set of splits.
With a soft smile she stood up and walked to her bag and water bottle, taking a large drink. Darcy loved her life! School was almost over, and she would spend the whole summer in her Father's penthouse apartment in the Ice Palace, paid for by a few ten percents of those he represented. She would party, and flirt, and she might even be able to look into some modeling.
Could things get any better?
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Post by hbghost on Nov 12, 2010 19:48:54 GMT -5
IF WE RUN THIS LIGHT TAKE A LITTLE LIFEno one will care at all w e c a n b u r n i t a n d l e a v eFOR WE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THEIVESa n d n o o n e s u s p e c t s a t a l lIt seemed that Darcy's only audience was at the top row of the bleachers, barely paying any attention to her. Eric wasn't working on any compositions or listening to any Broadway songs as usual, but he had a small lunchbox resting on the space beside him, continuously grabbing food from it as he attempted to eat his lunch and catch up on homework at the same time. Apparently, he was not doing so well, for crumbs were always falling in the binding of the book and occasionally grease and the orange stuff cheesies usually had had made its way onto his fingers and therefore was planted on certain places on his homework paper, thus officially ruining it.
"Darn it," he kept muttering to himself, continuously wiping his hands on his shirt, thus ruining that as well. "Darn it... DARN IT... I'll never get it done in time..."
He hated to admit this to himself, but the real reason he had come to the gym was to hide from the mass amount of bullies here that were probably out to get him at the moment. By now, he had considered giving up on everything. Asking Jamie to move. To transfer schools, perhaps. Or maybe just to end it all with suicide. That was probably a choice to consider, since there were only a few people who cared about him deeply... enough to make his life actually worth something...
Eric sighed, closing his Trigonometry book and watching the crumbs fall out onto the floor below his feet. He was lost in his own depressing thoughts as he cast his eyes toward the floor. Eric stared at the crumbs beside his feet. They looked so small compared to his feet, he noticed. It felt good, even though it was just for a minute, to be bigger than something. Mentally, not just physically. Even though he was an upperclassman, he almost always felt like the smallest person at Baum. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear as he reflected on how many times he had gotten punched, kicked, spit on, or any other kind of physical abuse he had experienced in that week alone. It seemed that everyone hated him, but they would have hated him even more without the mask on.
Perhaps if he would have taken the mask off, then people wouldn't have made fun of him anymore. But he would have looked extremely ugly because of his face, so people would have probably stayed away from him more. But they would have still made fun of him. As his ears pricked to the cheerleader practicing her cheer in the background, Eric wondered why anyone bothered to make fun of him. Perhaps because he was weak and fragile. No matter, he thought, as he suddenly changed his focus to watching her leave to take a break. He wished something would make him stronger.
Anything.
As long it would give him enough strength to beat everyone up.
``NOTES! Eric <3
``STATUS! Complete
``MUSE! Worse than usual
``TAG! Darcy and others
``OUTFIT! Durh
``WORD COUNT! 496
``CREDIT! PAULAA!? @ caution2.0 |
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Post by tig on Nov 12, 2010 20:44:11 GMT -5
{heelsonthesidewalkbeggingforabackbeat} • don't worry i like to fight it out dirty •[/center][/size]
A rustling of papers perked Darcy ears, her bright blue eyes searching for the source of the noise. She hadn't realized anyone had even been in here! Darcy found the source, a dark figure who was hunched over in a way that those cursed with shyness had a tendency to do. Her interest was instantly piqued.
Setting her water bottle back onto her bag, she darted up the stairs of the stands with a quick, athletic, grace. Planting her little butt next to him, she gave her brightest, sweetest smile. "Well, hello there. Whatcha doin?" But as she sat there, looking at him in such a close vicinity, she couldn't help but note the cloud of sadness hovering over him. He was older than her, not terrible looking with dark eyes, but an odd little mask covering half his face. A senior, probably, given his age. Nudging him gently with her body, she gushed at him in a flirtatious scolding-you-but-not-really way. "Were you watching me down there?"
In that statement, Darcy Hart put out her two most distinct traits. She was a little vain, and a shameless flirt. She didn't mean to be either, and her vanity was usually over shadowed by the fact that she was a genuinely sweet girl. But all the same, her eyes fluttered (not overly so, more in a surprised manner) and her smile was one hundred percent. Darcy saw nothing odd with how she was acting. She was being friendly, like any person would be. And if nothing else, this character would prove... interesting. How could anyone wearing such a distinct accessory not be?
And speaking of that mask...
"I like your mask." Her voice was at its most charming, almost like a used car salesman, but less greasy. "Can I try it on?"
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Post by hbghost on Nov 12, 2010 21:20:35 GMT -5
IF WE RUN THIS LIGHT TAKE A LITTLE LIFEno one will care at allw e c a n b u r n i t a n d l e a v eFOR WE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THEIVESa n d n o o n e s u s p e c t s a t a l l"Well, hello there. Whatcha doin?"
Eric was so engaged in his moping about that he didn't even notice Darcy come up. So when she spoke to him, Eric was beyond surprised. Beyond even startled. His heart nearly leapt from his chest.
"Nothin'," he meekly replied, thankful he hadn't been eating or drinking anything when Darcy had approached him. "Just finishing homework. That's all..."
She barely seemed to be affected by his depression, for from what Eric could see of her, she was a very happy-go-lucky girl. She had continued to talk to him, probably expecting him to brighten up and listen.
"Were you watching me down there?" she had asked him.
"Yeah," he had lied, giving her one of his sweet, innocent smiles. He hated to lie to her, especially when she was so enthusiastic about her... he wasn't quite sure what to call cheerleading, but it was probably important. However, he had been so focused on his homework that he had only looked up when she happened to have left to take a break. "You are a fantastic performer. Naturally born with it, I can tell..."
Oop... were those a wrong choice of words? Maybe cheerleaders weren't supposed to be performers. Maybe because cheerleaders were almost always popular and snotty and bratty that they thought they were too good for the performing arts and this girl thus would take what he had said as an insult and possibly hit him or something. And Eric didn't want to be hit again that day. Being hit didn't feel very good and it hurt.
There was absolutely no way she could connect in any way...
"I like your mask."
Eric froze for a moment. That was the sound of the time-space continuum shattering into a million pieces. Someone liked his mask? Someone didn't think he was a shameless piece of crap just mercilessly flung into society? This was new. That fuzzy feeling of being important to someone came back to him, and it felt very good.
"You do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow to make sure her compliment was sincere. Eric didn't like to be tricked. "You... you like it?"
He smiled, his face turning as red as the ketchup in his untouched turkey sandwich. But her next comment threw him off slightly.
"Can I try it on?"
No. This was a trick to have him take it off and expose him as the ugly monster he really was. But he could just cover his face with his hand, right? Then again, she would grow suspicious and then give him a reason to reveal it to her. However... no one would really think it was /that/ bad. If she had the social friendliness and bubbliness to compliment him on the one thing that had set him apart from the rest of the student body this entire year, then she could stand to see the mask off... if she could remove his hand from his face.
Thus, his right hand went immediately to his face when he removed the mask and handed it to Darcy.
"Sure... Sure, you can try it..." he stated, subconsciously becoming tense.
``NOTES! Eric's face isn't as bad as it's going to be.
``STATUS! Filled with Eric.
``MUSE! Increasingly
``TAG! DARCY
``OUTFIT!
``WORD COUNT! 523
``CREDIT! PAULAA!? @ caution2.0 |
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Post by tig on Nov 12, 2010 23:59:21 GMT -5
{heelsonthesidewalkbeggingforabackbeat} • don't worry i like to fight it out dirty •[/center][/size]
The boy seemed startled by her. She hadn't meant to sneak up on him, but that's what seemed to be the case. But surprises were good, right? Still he looked almost frightened of her, like afraid she was going to pull a bat out of her tank top and beat him viciously with it. Well she'd have to use all her charm to pull him out of that hermit shell, wouldn't she? A sullen sam was no fun to be around after all.
He called her an entertainer? A genuinely flattered smile flushed over Darcy's face, her cheeks going slightly pink. She had gotten compliments on her cheering before: 'Wow, Darce, you looked so cute in your skirt' or 'Jeez Darcy, you took out that triple cartwheel, spin leap, liberty stance like it was nobodies business'. But no one had ever called her a 'Performer' before. And he had said that it looked like she was natural at it! That had to be the best kind, right? Like naturally having large but supple breast without surgery, or being able to rock out cerulean and tangerine without looking like a bad eighties movie knock off! "You mean that? Like... for real for reals? Gosh, that's so sweet."
The boy in front of her, seemed confused at her compliment, but flattered, just as she had been. Yes, extending the compliment was a good idea. "Ch'yeah! I mean, half the guys here think that a pair of converse and a beanie counts as accessorizing, which is so not the case, and here you are striking you're own fashion statement! You're like Lady Gaga with junk... or just like Lady Gaga if you believe the rumors." She giggled a little, her grin widening on her heart shaped face. "Honest to blog though, I think it's radical. Like, old school, seventeeth century, Marie Antoinette, minus the beheading chic meets new school, skater, punk-funk, drama class, style."
He seemed to consider for a moment, about his mask. She watched him with her bright blue eyes, wondering if he was going to refuse. It was a rare thing for Darcy, to hear the word no. Darcy nibbled her bow lips in anticipation, suddenly really wanting him to say yes.
With an amount of caution he rose his hand up to his mask and removed it, exposing the skin beneath. Darcy hadn't been expecting that. She hadn't been expecting anything, besides maybe a little face sweat, or perhaps some acne. But certainly not scarring. Luckily, she did not make a spectacle of herself, though her mouth slightly fell ajar.
She composed herself rather quickly though, taking the mask out of his hand, and putting a coquettish smile on her face. Very nimbly she placed the mask on her own face, surprised that it clung so easily to her face. Darcy gave him a Hollywood pose, modeling the mask on her face with skill made by practicing in a mirror. "How do I look?" She asked while rising to her feet, and giving a pirouette, as if showing off a full ensemble. Wondering if he felt weird without his mask she sat back down and gave him a final pose before handing it back, her smile going from coquettish to sweet. "I rather think, you Sir, rock it out way more."
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Post by hbghost on Nov 13, 2010 20:57:46 GMT -5
IF WE RUN THIS LIGHT TAKE A LITTLE LIFEno one will care at allw e c a n b u r n i t a n d l e a v eFOR WE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THEIVESa n d n o o n e s u s p e c t s a t a l lHe called her an entertainer? A genuinely flattered smile flushed over Darcy's face, her cheeks going slightly pink. She had gotten compliments on her cheering before: 'Wow, Darce, you looked so cute in your skirt' or 'Jeez Darcy, you took out that triple cartwheel, spin leap, liberty stance like it was nobodies business'. But no one had ever called her a 'Performer' before. And he had said that it looked like she was natural at it! That had to be the best kind, right? Like naturally having large but supple breast without surgery, or being able to rock out cerulean and tangerine without looking like a bad eighties movie knock off! "You mean that? Like... for real for reals? Gosh, that's so sweet."
Eric did a double-take. She took what he had said as a compliment! And she blushed as well! He decided to keep going.
"I mean it. Seriously. You are one of the most outgoing people I have ever met. I wish I could be more like you."
Of course, he wouldn't have said that to any average girl with decent breasts and a good body. Actually, he didn't notice that at first. But despite her appearance, he was referring more to her personality. How he wished he wouldn't be so scared and sad all the time! It didn't feel very good. However, talking to Darcy made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and he liked it. Not saying that he liked LIKED her, but he liked talking to her. He also wished he had the confidence to expose the growth on his face to everyone in the school, but that was as likely as him growing boobs, unless what most of his tormentors said was true...
Darcy hadn't been expecting that. She hadn't been expecting anything, besides maybe a little face sweat, or perhaps some acne. But certainly not scarring. Luckily, she did not make a spectacle of herself, though her mouth slightly fell ajar.
It wasn't like he expected. She didn't scream or make a scene about what she could see of the growth, so Eric decided to take an even larger risk and he slowly dropped his hand from his face as his hair magically changed colors.
"This is why I wear it. It's not a fashion statement, and I don't intend to make myself look stupid. This is what I really am. This is why... this is why I hide," he finally admitted, looking down at the ground as to not look at her reaction to his whole face.
"Ch'yeah! I mean, half the guys here think that a pair of converse and a beanie counts as accessorizing, which is so not the case, and here you are striking you're own fashion statement! You're like Lady Gaga with junk... or just like Lady Gaga if you believe the rumors. Honest to blog though, I think it's radical. Like, old school, seventeeth century, Marie Antoinette, minus the beheading chic meets new school, skater, punk-funk, drama class, style."
Eric's comprehension of this had immediately went flatline, and so did his expression. As she explained, his eyes glazed over and his expression became vacant, obviously having no idea what in the world she was talking about.
"Um... come again?" he asked sheepishly.
"How do I look?" she had asked him.
"Wow... it looks better on you than it does me," he stated in reply, genuinely honest. "It just sort of... fits better."
"I rather think, you Sir, rock it out way more."
"Just sayin'," he muttered, slipping the mask on and thanking her sheepishly under his breath.
``NOTES! E/D
``STATUS! Complete
``MUSE! Growing
``TAG! DARCY
``OUTFIT!
``WORD COUNT!
``CREDIT! PAULAA!? @ caution2.0 |
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Post by tig on Nov 16, 2010 18:20:38 GMT -5
{heelsonthesidewalkbeggingforabackbeat} • don't worry i like to fight it out dirty •[/center][/size]
He wished he could be more like her? Well that was silly, wasn't it? His shyness was positively endearing after all. Certainly he made far more of a contribution to society than little ol Darcia Hart. "Well aren't you sweet. But I think you're mistaking my jabbering for out going-ness." She was truly terribly at false modesty, and Darcy was very obviously glowing at the compliment. She was an out going person, there was little denying this, and from her body posture to her bright smile she exuded this.
He, very meekly, explained why he used the mask, and Darcy looked at him with her bright blue, sympathetic eyes. How terrible it must be for him, to feel so isolated from everyone for something he couldn't help. "Well, if you want my honest opinion, I think it takes a very... strong person to carry on. Me, I'm just a hopeless bobble. Hell, my name should be Trinket." Darcy pushed her hair behind her ear, completely unashamed at her self critiquing. "If something were to happen to my face, I'd go to a hidey hole and just feel sorry for myself. But you... you're awful brave. And I think that means you've got something to contribute. Like, something important." She wasn't sure if any of that made sense, and eloquence was never her forte. But what was said, was said, and she could only hope that he wouldn't take offense.
The boy's confusion at her worlds made her blush. Figured that she'd ramble on about nonsense, not realizing he wasn't following at all. In true Darcy fashion, she tried to make it a joke. "See what I mean? Total bobble!" Her giggle was sincere and sweet, shifting to sit cross legged next to him.
It occurred to her that she didn't know his name. Thrusting her hand forward, she spoke clearly. "I'm Darcy. Darcy Hart. And you are?"
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Post by hbghost on Nov 16, 2010 20:29:04 GMT -5
IF WE RUN THIS LIGHT TAKE A LITTLE LIFEno one will care at allw e c a n b u r n i t a n d l e a v eFOR WE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THEIVESa n d n o o n e s u s p e c t s a t a l l
"Well aren't you sweet. But I think you're mistaking my jabbering for out going-ness."
"No... that is not the case." Eric became a little more confident as he turned to face her, setting his lunch and homework to the side. "I've seen useless jabber, and I've seen pure confidence radiated... The only crap I've heard you talk today is what you just said about jabbering. Trust me." He grinned sweetly, for he really did mean his compliment. "Besides, you must be confident enough to break a stereotype... I've never met a nice cheerleader before. Not one who would talk to me."
"Well, if you want my honest opinion, I think it takes a very... strong person to carry on."
Eric chuckled. What he had said about her talking crap he immediately took back.
"Seriously? Me? Strong?" he sighed, before chuckling uneasily. "Don't say that. It's obvious you just met me. And besides... I had no choice but to continue on... it was my senior year. It was supposed to be the best year of my life. Even though my face ruined most of it, I at least got as much of an education as I could, and... well... at least I'll graduate. But if I don't... at least I won't be bothered by Drake or anyone else like him for a while..." Eric sighed and leaned back against the wall. "But yeah, I'm not strong. Not at all. It was either this or show that disgrace of a growth to the public."
"Me, I'm just a hopeless bobble. Hell, my name should be Trinket."
Eric sighed.
"If you were a hopeless bobble, you sure don't act like one. The popular girls give people like you a bad name," he reassured her.
"If something were to happen to my face, I'd go to a hidey hole and just feel sorry for myself."
"Yeah, that's basically what I've been doing all year," Eric added, but his companion had continued:
"But you... you're awful brave. And I think that means you've got something to contribute. Like, something important."
Eric chuckled.
"Yeah, you really don't know me. Whatever I have to contribute to society no one really cares about. Sure, I do have something to contribute, but seriously, no one gives a crap. Just because I don't play football or video games doesn't mean I don't really matter... You, on the other hand... you actually matter. So why are you complaining?"
"See what I mean? Total bobble!"
Eric shook his head. "Just because I'm stupid doesn't mean you ramble a lot. It just means... just... means..." He couldn't find another way to put it. "It just means I'm stupid."
"I'm Darcy. Darcy Hart. And you are?"
Eric smiled and shook her hand.
"Eric. Eric Lonesinner. I think we're going to get along."
``NOTES! ERIC
``STATUS! Complete
``MUSE! Good, but not good enough to write what I want to.
``TAG! DARCY
``OUTFIT!
``WORD COUNT!
``CREDIT! PAULAA!? @ caution2.0 |
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Post by tig on Nov 24, 2010 1:50:36 GMT -5
{heelsonthesidewalkbeggingforabackbeat} • don't worry i like to fight it out dirty •[/center][/size]
Darcy listened to him, her face looking thoughtful. Were the Cheerleader's really how they were stereo typed to be? She knew they could tease pretty hard, but were they really mean? And what did that make her? Was she strange? Was that good or bad? What else would explained his startled rabbit expression when she originally approached him? And why was he being so mean to himself? Her lips pouted slightly in petulance as he called himself a coward, and her bright blue eyes softened.
"Don't talk that way about yourself." Darcy murmured softly, so quiet she wondered if he had heard her. Her voice rose: "I mean, just because you can't run a touch down and crush a a can on your forehead doesn't mean you don't have something to offer. Haven't you ever seen an after school program? Jockstraps own high school, but as soon as they get out they think the world will hand them everything and don't make any effort. And weirdo's, meant in the most affectionate way mind you," She winked at him, continuing her little rant. "run shizznit when they get out of here." Taking the scrunchie out of her hair, Darcy's golden brown waves cascaded down her back.
Though she was peeved with him bad talking himself, he did continue to flatter her, which she had to admit she liked. Ever since she was little people had assured her she was pretty, but very few people ever bothered to mention what she had on the inside. "Well, you did just meet me too. For all you know I usually don't have anything to add to a conversation than what nail polish goes with what outfit; by the way plum would look excellent on you. Or what brand of shoes are in style or what celebrity is dating who." She laughed a little, trying to hide her embarrassment that he hadn't understood a word she had said when she was trying to compliment him. And then he went and messed it up...
Did he seriously just call himself stupid?
Darcy let him introduce himself quickly, and her finger, capped with bright green nail polish, pointed at him sharply, her jaw squaring stubbornly. "Well, Eric, if you say one more mean thing about yourself I'm going too... hug you to death." Crossing her arms, she let her serious scowl melt into her wide, toothy grin. She giggled, shifting to hug her long, bronzy legs (as she was a terribly fidgety), and rested her chin on her knee caps. "Seriously Eric," She liked saying his name. It was the name of a Viking captain, who'd have a title like Eric Von Thunder Butt the Glorious Strategist. Or something like that. "No one talks bad about my friends. Not even my friends."
Darcy's blue eyes melted in earnest. "We are friends, aren't we?"
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Post by hbghost on Dec 4, 2010 15:37:06 GMT -5
IF WE RUN THIS LIGHT TAKE A LITTLE LIFEno one will care at allw e c a n b u r n i t a n d l e a v eFOR WE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THEIVESa n d n o o n e s u s p e c t s a t a l l"Don't talk that way about yourself."
Eric raised an eyebrow as she muttered something similar to this under her breath. Did she really care about him that much? Maybe... perhaps...
"I mean, just because you can't run a touch down and crush a a can on your forehead doesn't mean you don't have something to offer."
Eric shrugged.
"Well, that seems to be the job requirements in a nutshell these days. Also, you have to have good public relations, and I'm just... not that type. Nowhere near that type. You know what I mean, Darcy." Eric gave up on trying to explain. He slouched and looked at the floor.
Haven't you ever seen an after school program? Jockstraps own high school, but as soon as they get out they think the world will hand them everything and don't make any effort."
Eric chuckled at this.
"Well, I've always known that," he replied, looking back up at Darcy. "But all the more reason for them to act tough here. They're going to need to be tough to get through life, because... well... life sucks." Eric crossed his arms as he remarked the famous quote casually, now leaning back against the bleacher above him.
"And weirdos..."
"I..."
"...meant in the most affectionate way mind you,"
"Oh."
"run shizznit when they get out of here."
Eric chuckled.
"All right, I get what you're saying," he replied to her, although deep down, he knew he didn't. Whatever she had said, it was encouraging and telling him not to listen to what anyone else had said about him. Yes, she was very nice.
"Well, you did just meet me too. For all you know I usually don't have anything to add to a conversation than what nail polish goes with what outfit; by the way plum would look excellent on you. Or what brand of shoes are in style or what celebrity is dating who."
Eric frowned. Now she was the one talking bad about herself. He tilted his head a bit to the side and stated this in reply, for once acting confident with himself and her.
"I can tell that's not true about you. Even though that may be you, you still have choice not to talk about that. The one thing our society gives us... come what may... the one thing it gives us is a choice. A choice on whether or not to follow it. Besides," he found himself wrapping his arm around his new friend. "there may be a difference between who we want to be and who we should be. For some, it's the same destiny."
Where that speech came from, Eric never knew.
"Well, Eric, if you say one more mean thing about yourself I'm going too... hug you to death."
Eric laughed. He seldom gave a jovial laugh such as this one where he was entirely comfortable with where he was at and who he was with. For a moment, he forgot all about the people who were trying to damage the other side of his face or the guys who made fun of him. The world only consisted of him and Darcy at that moment. Nothing else mattered.
"All right, all right... I'll lay it off. But only because I matter," he joked, his smile brightening up what visible flaws were on his face.
"Seriously Eric... No one talks bad about my friends. Not even my friends."
"We are friends, aren't we?"
Eric's smile gave her the answer she needed.
``NOTES! Durp durp
``STATUS! Complete
``MUSE! MARLEY AND MARLEY... WHOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA
``TAG! Darcy~
``OUTFIT!
``WORD COUNT!
``CREDIT! PAULAA!? @ caution2.0 |
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