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Post by Anne Elizabeth Dowlry on Oct 17, 2009 12:45:10 GMT -5
anne elizabeth dowlry
liza A lone girl shuffled along the street, hunched against the chill of the wind. Her long mousy brown ringletts twisted and twirled in the soft breeze, billowing about her face. Liza dropped onto the top step that led to Indie Records, pulling her army green jacket tight about her torso. She raised her head, squinting against the glare of the morning sun. Absently, she removed stray strands of hair that clung to her full lips. Liza folded onto herself, resting her chin on her knees. A soft sigh hissed through her teeth. What a spectacular Saturday. The girl was silent, listening to the soft hum of some oldie rock song that played inside the store. Liza straightened her spine again. A pair of Aviators hung between her breasts on the collar of a snug salmon pink tank top. She snatched them off, placing them on her eyes. The reflective lenses of the sunglasses mirrored the downtown street scene before her. The girl leaned against the building, pulling the sleeves of her jacket over her hands. Wrapping her arms about her torso, Liza allowed her head to rest against the cold brick of the structure. Boredom kills.
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Post by dmitri baranowski on Oct 17, 2009 14:27:05 GMT -5
Let's burn our dreams into the skyline...
Opening your eyes to a ravaging Swedish teenager really is not the way to wake up. Dmitri Baranowski found this out the hard way, much to his dismay. "Jorvik. What the hell are you saying?" Dmitri groaned, running his hands across his own face. Jorvik happily blabbered about how he found a record shop in town. Dmitri, who wakes as willingly as the dead, croaked "No offense, but why should I be interested? It's a few hours until the school welcoming party for us. Can't we wait to go to the shop?" Jorvik, being his usual bubbly self, explained to our Russian friend that it would only take a half of an hour, and that dorm-mates should hang out. Sighing, Dmitri mumbled, his accent was showing more so than usual, "I must take a shower first. I still feel nasty from that girl vomiting on my shoes." Jorvik, obviously knowing nothing of the vomiting girl, raised his eyebrow at Dmitri. Sighing, Dmitri told Jorvik that he would explain later as he walked to the bathroom. About nine minutes later, Dmitri was pulling on new clothing and shaking his wet head. His feet feeling disinfected from the mass of alcohol spewed upon his feet earlier that afternoon. Yelling to Jorvik, who was talking to the French exchange students about snow. Jorvik's intensely blonde head turned around, his aviator sunglasses hiding his overly blue eyes, and casually jogged over to Dmitri. "Ready, are you?" Jorvik asked, his broken English making Dmitri try very hard not to burst out in pitiful laughter. It was rather sad that Dmitri only made one friend so far in the first three days of being in this school. Sauntering out of the dorms, the two boys made it to the music shop in a very short time. Upon reaching the doorstep, there was a girl on the wall, Jorvik smiled brightly and managed to say "Ex-cooz Mieeee!" as he walked up the steps to the door. He trotted in, his face brightened immediately. Dmitri walked past the girl saying a much more understandable, but Russian accented "Excuse me, miss." Nodded once to her in acknowledgement and stepped into the store, mildly marveling the vast array of music. Stay Young - We The Kings
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Post by Anne Elizabeth Dowlry on Oct 17, 2009 17:21:51 GMT -5
anne elizabeth dowlry ...you're burning bridges, baby...
Liza was delighted to find she was aqquainted to the song that now played inside the store. The girl allowed her eyelids to drift close behind her glasses, contented, apart from the fact that the cold wall supporting her head was not so very comfortable. If you don't like my fi-yah, then don't come around, 'cause I'm gonna burn one dow-ow-own. Ben Harper's familiar lyrics were soothing to Liza, and soon her irritated boredom was foregotten. The girl pursed her lips as two pairs of footsteps neared the store. Being she was not in the pair's way, Liza did not bother to react. An obnoxiousy loud voice inturrupted Liza's straying thoughts. She sat erect, allowing the wind to find her again. It's grabby fingers tugged at her curls and chilled her exposed neck. Liza casually lifted her glasses, her bright green eyes flashing as she caught eye of the boy that climbed the steps to the shop. Her lips curled in a smirk as he offered his excuse, "Oh no," She waved the words away with a hand, "I was just going in." Liza hooked her glasses on the collar of her shirt again, standing. She followed the boy in, sizing him up. She knew he was older than she, perhapes in the senior class. She fought a devilish grin.
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Post by dmitri baranowski on Oct 18, 2009 18:18:36 GMT -5
I can make you never want to go back to the old you...
Ducking a bit going through the doorway, the six foot one Dmitri felt calmed when he walked through the entryway. Still in the doorway, he held the door for the girl coming in. "Here you go." His satin voice mumbled. Glancing at the girl quickly, he noticed she was pretty and short. But then again, Dmitri was pretty tall. Maybe she attended the school he did. They obviously in the vicinity of the school. Looking to his silver watch, he pursed his lips. It was an hour and a half until the school welcome for the exchange students. Jorvik’s mind was clearly submerged in the vast array of music. The song presently playing was an upbeat Alternative Rock song. Dmitri found himself actually liking it. Subtly rolling his eyes at Jorvik’s slowness, he sat down in the leather armchair, inspecting it’s buttons adorning the seamlines. Running his finger over every steel button he could, a sigh of fatigue escaped his pursed mouth. Looking to the register, Dmitri saw a female with wildly pink hair. Her makeup was nearly as colorful as her hair, as was her clothing. Not thinking much of it, he looked back to Jorvik, who still had his nose in the albums.
Sorry this post is so short and sucky. Maha. I Can Transform Ya - Chris Brown
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Post by Anne Elizabeth Dowlry on Oct 21, 2009 19:18:11 GMT -5
anne elizabeth dowlry ...you're burning bridges, baby...
Liza's signature I-like-what-I'm-seeing grin lit up her heart-shaped face. She directed it at the boy, following up with a grateful "Thank you." Huh. She mused, He's got manners and a cute accent, even though he sounds half asleep. Her aspirations began to change from naughty to nice; a genuine liking for this boy nestling itself into her heart. Liza self-conciously knawed on her plump lower lip, before admonising herself and stopping. This was a nervous habit she possesed, and was fighting to stop. It scraped off her lipgloss, which she did not like to apply repeatedly. Liza strolled to a rack of CDs, casually browsing the variety of bluegrass albums. They appeared as if they hadn't been tended to in a length of time. Occasionally, she allowed her green gaze to pass over the boy, before turning back to her music selections. Liza pulled a CD at random. A thin film of dust lay over the plastic cover. The girl ran her thumb over it, revealing a title. "All Time Favorites by George Straight." Under it was the date of the release, 1992. Unimpressed, Liza placed the item back on the shelf. She swung her arms at her side as she paced slowly down the rows of music, a soft sigh uttering from her lips. Liza snuck another stealthy glance at the boy. Dang, I need to find out his name. He looked bored, sitting all on his lonesome. Liza decided to favor him a bit of company, and strode merrily to his couch. She plopped down beside him, her grin flashing fresh. "You look like you're enjoying yourself." Liza's smile turned wry, "What's the rush?"
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Post by brooklynn dahyes on Oct 25, 2009 18:30:55 GMT -5
Slap, slap, slap.
Her mother named her Brooklynn. For lack of a better word. Really, not a good name to have when you practically lived in the town.
Slap, slap, slap.
She didn't like to be called Brook though, so she stuck with the name.
Slap, slap, slap.
Each CD case slid back with a gratifying slap. Each plastic cover assualted it's brother. And she smiled. She knew the cover art on each one by heart. Each color grinned back, the bright arrangements for her favorites, the provocitive pictures on the ones she'd rather put down. But sadly, those were the most popular, and flew off the shelves.
Slap, sap, slap.
And this is why she was re-stocking them.
Slap, sap, slap.
Her iPod blared out the bubblegum pop that the younger teens were playing by one of the listening stations. Each blaring note was loud, and she barely heard the slapping over it.
Slap, sla- 'She isn't afraid of death, I can see it in her eyes.
She liked those lyrics. She wasn't afraid of death. She saw it quite prefrably to the pain that most endured instead.
'I can't miss this chance to take you, and here's my chance to take you.'
She frowned. Maybe she didn't like these lyrics. And the next resounding slap made her shudder, and she squinched her eyes not to remember.
'Heels slap the sidewalk, begging for a back beat.'
She just sighed, and continued to restock the distasteful music.
Talk, talk, shuffle, shuffle. Her head snapped up as she heard some people. She walked over, ready to cause some trouble. Noticed the CD in the girl's hands, and ripped it away before either of the other two could notice she had even made her way over. She chucked the CD over the the register, where she's trash it late. 'No. If I ever catch you listening to that again. You. Are. Dead. There's much, much better music in here, despite what might be playing.' She stalked over to her favorite asile, and slipped through CDs. 'Aha!' she exclaimed, and then walked back over to the two. 'So Wrong, It's Right; All Time Low. Personally, I love anything by them, but this is some good party music.' She had heard of a party, for the foregin exchange students. She was dropping hints, since something was off about that guy. 'That is, if there's a party.' She smiled ruefully at him, and her eyes held the secret that the girl in the middle just didn't know yet.
ooc;; Most of this is recycled. Yup, Brookie is in to wreck some havoc!
Lost In Stereo - ATL<3
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Post by Anne Elizabeth Dowlry on Oct 26, 2009 15:24:18 GMT -5
O'C.Cll Seren, is Brookie talking to us? x]
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Post by brooklynn dahyes on Oct 26, 2009 15:56:09 GMT -5
Definitely.
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Post by Anne Elizabeth Dowlry on Oct 27, 2009 7:33:07 GMT -5
anne elizabeth dowlry ...you're burning bridges, baby...
Liza tilted her head back, laughing out loud at Brooklyn's actions. She appraised the CD that the girl offered with a raised eyebrow. The selection was fairly good; she enjoyed some of the artist's music. Yet her taste was a bit more soft and not so much alternative. O'C.Cll Not finished.
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