Post by nicholas argall on Aug 31, 2010 21:05:44 GMT
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NICHOLAS CHRISTOPHER ARGALL ,,
nick. twenty-one. locals. undecided. tom sturridge.
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"I should start by telling you that I’m not one of those people who likes to talk about themselves, or could take joy in it. Or one of that other kind of people who say that they hate it but could go on and on and on prattling off useless information. That isn’t me and it will never be, sorry if that is disappointing. I am… quiet, I suppose. Yes, I like to ‘hold my tongue’ and stare rather than comment. Sorry, again, if that doesn’t sit well with you. I could say that I don’t care but that would almost be a lie. Despite my distaste for talking, I am still incredibly insecure when thinking that other people are talking about me, especially talking shit. I must be paranoid… thinking that every mind holds the same opinion. ‘Look at him, look how stupid…’ Childish really.
Friends… I have some. They are more like acquaintances. I would prefer to be by myself and, well, I am. Most of the time I am alone and that is how I like it. Somehow though, I get incredibly lonely. But that’s no concern of yours. It’s not a concern of anyone’s.
My likes… god, how tedious will this list be? I like the ocean and I like to run. I like to run a lot. It’s the only pastime, besides the other, that I could spend my time doing for days at a time. Nothing else seems at all consequential when I’m at a faster pace than walking. Music, too, is one of my favorite things. Classical and experimental, that’s what I like. I could listen to a pianist or a violinist for the rest of my life. I like the night, and the air, French fries and coffee. I like to smoke, but anyone could tell you that. I hate to drink though, can’t stand the stuff.
Consider my strengths and weaknesses one in the same: neither exist."
Friends… I have some. They are more like acquaintances. I would prefer to be by myself and, well, I am. Most of the time I am alone and that is how I like it. Somehow though, I get incredibly lonely. But that’s no concern of yours. It’s not a concern of anyone’s.
My likes… god, how tedious will this list be? I like the ocean and I like to run. I like to run a lot. It’s the only pastime, besides the other, that I could spend my time doing for days at a time. Nothing else seems at all consequential when I’m at a faster pace than walking. Music, too, is one of my favorite things. Classical and experimental, that’s what I like. I could listen to a pianist or a violinist for the rest of my life. I like the night, and the air, French fries and coffee. I like to smoke, but anyone could tell you that. I hate to drink though, can’t stand the stuff.
Consider my strengths and weaknesses one in the same: neither exist."
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"Can you say ‘Fucking Loaded’? That would be my family. In a nutshell. Personally, I don’t care or it. Of course it was nice to grow up with anything I wanted or needed, and no those two are not synonymous. But, truthfully, the environment was stifling. I wouldn’t say that I hate my father or my mother, or my sister, but I don’t love them. Maybe I like my sister, but she could argue the returning feelings. My parents split a year ago; luckily for me, I was already out of the house and far away."
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"I’ve been living here for a couple of years now. I just needed a place to go to be away from all of the shit in the city. I could have pointed to a map randomly and would have gone there. But this place was suggested to me and I actually like it. At first, maybe it was a big change from the city’s rapidly changing, always stirring expressions. But the small town has its charms. I must say, I kind of love it."
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"Fuck. Alright, the story you ask for… I was born in New York City. I lived there until I was seventeen and graduated from oh-so-fun expensive prep school. Now I’m here. Does that satisfy your curiosity? No?
Yes, I grew up mainly on New York. My mother and father, and their families, had lived there as well for generations. I guess we were one of those high class rich families you hear so much about all the time on crime shows, where the teenagers always do something fucking stupid and the climax ends up with them in cuffs. I knew a couple of those guys. It was even less entertaining, especially without the crime-y music. I didn’t go to college after high school; I didn’t see the point. My parents got all into a huff about it, threatened to kick me out. But I beat them to the punch. Besides, they had my perfect little sister to keep their family from cracking. Lasted long, didn’t it? Gave me a couple years and they broke up. Big shocker there, I know.
I’ve been here since. I don’t really work, not in a traditional sense. What I do is of a more delicate nature, and I could say that I’ve been doing it for years. When I was in the city, I kept a small greenhouse on the roof for… certain plants. So, if you are ever looking for a certain herb, bring the cash. I like spending money. But, please, don’t hang around for too long. I cherish my privacy."
Yes, I grew up mainly on New York. My mother and father, and their families, had lived there as well for generations. I guess we were one of those high class rich families you hear so much about all the time on crime shows, where the teenagers always do something fucking stupid and the climax ends up with them in cuffs. I knew a couple of those guys. It was even less entertaining, especially without the crime-y music. I didn’t go to college after high school; I didn’t see the point. My parents got all into a huff about it, threatened to kick me out. But I beat them to the punch. Besides, they had my perfect little sister to keep their family from cracking. Lasted long, didn’t it? Gave me a couple years and they broke up. Big shocker there, I know.
I’ve been here since. I don’t really work, not in a traditional sense. What I do is of a more delicate nature, and I could say that I’ve been doing it for years. When I was in the city, I kept a small greenhouse on the roof for… certain plants. So, if you are ever looking for a certain herb, bring the cash. I like spending money. But, please, don’t hang around for too long. I cherish my privacy."
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so hey! i'm [chewy] and there is no doubt about it,
i'm a [girl]. i've been rocking in this world for [19].
yanno this crazy shit called roleplaying? well i've been
doing it for years.
i'm a [girl]. i've been rocking in this world for [19].
yanno this crazy shit called roleplaying? well i've been
doing it for years.
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Lora's bare feet touched down onto a soft patch of grass. In the dark, she cried out and the rest of her body collided with the ground soon after, all in a massive clump of shadows and black. The black clothes that she wore did nothing to combat the impressive darkness that her expression constantly emitted. There was no one around anyway. But Lora clamped her hands over her mouth anyway, not wishing to attract anyone who could have been out and about wandering the garden or the grounds after night had fallen. She should have been out there alone and she did her best to hope that that was the base. Being seen in this situation, her body hunched over on itself, all one creature of misery and weakness, it would have pushed her into an attitude that she would not be happy about. Fingers over her mouth, Lora listened and heard nothing. A good sign.
Slowly and silently, she took her hands away from her mouth. An expression of pain flooded her blue eyes as she did her best to adjust her position, her knees pressed to the ground. Unable to sleep, Lora had risen from her bed and thrown on a heavy robe and nothing else, walking out of the dormitory and into the first hallway that she found. She had no idea what she had been thinking when she stepped up to an open window and looked out. Lora was well-aware of how much it hurt when the smooth shiny wings protruded from her back, breaking the skin and tearing at her muscles, making her scream into the night sky. But there she was, extending her feet out of the window, the wings automatically catching her before she fell too far. It wasn't until she hit the ground that the excruciating pain really hit her.
A tear leaked from her eye and she shook her head, her whitish hair falling all around her shoulders. Very delicately, Lora pulled the remains of her robe off. It was a small sigh of relief and the large wings slowly retracted, folding at her sides. She doubted that she would ever be fully comfortable with them. Some part of her remembered what it was like to have white wings, when her white fingers used to glow even in the daylight.
Slowly and silently, she took her hands away from her mouth. An expression of pain flooded her blue eyes as she did her best to adjust her position, her knees pressed to the ground. Unable to sleep, Lora had risen from her bed and thrown on a heavy robe and nothing else, walking out of the dormitory and into the first hallway that she found. She had no idea what she had been thinking when she stepped up to an open window and looked out. Lora was well-aware of how much it hurt when the smooth shiny wings protruded from her back, breaking the skin and tearing at her muscles, making her scream into the night sky. But there she was, extending her feet out of the window, the wings automatically catching her before she fell too far. It wasn't until she hit the ground that the excruciating pain really hit her.
A tear leaked from her eye and she shook her head, her whitish hair falling all around her shoulders. Very delicately, Lora pulled the remains of her robe off. It was a small sigh of relief and the large wings slowly retracted, folding at her sides. She doubted that she would ever be fully comfortable with them. Some part of her remembered what it was like to have white wings, when her white fingers used to glow even in the daylight.
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