`CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

[LACIE ANNE BELROSE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] MAYBE I LIKE THIS ROLLERCOASTER, MAYBE IT KEEPS ME HIGH. WORDS: 750+ TAGGED FOR: renee w/ felix & madds NOTES this shall be fun B] It was best to keep her gaze directed off into the distance somewhere…the curve of a skylight windowpane or else the studio door some few metres away. But as she lay there, the center of the class' attention, her pale, healthy frame unfurled in an open yet detached sort of way, Lacie could sense her eyelids beginning to grow heavy. She'd already had her own rigorous set of art classes earlier this morning, and one would think it'd be easier than anything to sit on the opposite end of the drawing exchange during the afternoon hours. Slumped against the hardwood in order to provide her own generation of budding artists with a live example of the human form. Seemed simple enough, right? But it was tiring keeping up the torsion in the small of her back. And the way her right thigh rested atop the other was causing her entire left leg a sensation of utter numbness. It was far from comfortable in the physical sense…But for the kind of money the school shelled out to its models, the work was worthwhile and, she supposed, fairly simple too: Strip down. Pose. Four or five breaks to divide the time accordingly. Not a single moment left her mind in discontent, and though this had largely to do with the fact she'd bolstered her own body image considerably in the past few years, the people, themselves, tended to grant Lacie a sense of security. They were a like-minded pack, all of them. An assortment of loose and liberal artists with whom she fit amicably. She shifted ever-so-slightly and blinked at the window above, which revealed a steadily darkening New York sky. The class was bound to conclude in a few moments, and the dull din of draftsmen's pencils around her had quickened into a fog of urgent scratchings. Everybody sought as polished a drawing as possible for the time they'd been allotted, and Lacie could appreciate their want to rush into the more minute details. She was the same way at the end of the morning class, hunched over her drawing pad like an insane woman bent on an artistic mission. Etching in the last of some obscure patch of shading. Trying to more sharply define her figural outline. Finally, the instructor expressed to the class they were finished for the afternoon and, smiling sluggishly, Lacie peeled herself away from the floor mat, stretched her stiff limbs in a careless fashion, and shrugged her way into the customary bathrobe of a model waiting to get back into her clothes. She was always the last one to leave the studio, be she the artist or the muse, and she always liked to get a solid look at her peers' work before they packed up and darted off. It was fun having a look at others' techniques, whether they were loose and abstract like her own, or systematic and calculated. The instructor thanked her, and Lacie gave him a smile and a casual, "No problem," in reply. Eighteen and she was already an old pro at this sort of thing. It was no big deal, anymore, to expose herself in front of a crowd, and she knew her confidence had come such a long way since those wearing days back home. With a drawling yet undeniably goodnatured voice, she loped around the room offering compliments to those who still had their drawing pads thrown open. Tommy always got her face so spot-on. And Andrea was a master in the values department. Katie told her she was sorry that she'd made her look like a "fucked up Munch painting," but Lacie could appreciate the oddness and told her, truthfully, that it was one of her favorites. She'd just padded around to the back of the row when she noticed a small, rather gaunt-looking man glancing over his work with wide, uncertain eyes. Unlike a large handful of the others, he wasn't in any of her other classes and so, naturally, she didn't know the man very well. But he had a unique approach as a draftsman, and his personal style screamed angsty poet to Lacie. She decided immediately that she rather liked him. "Hey, this is cool," she said, stepping up behind him and scanning his sketch with intrigue. She traced a few points on the drawing as though mentally trying to envision how she appeared from another's point of view, "Definitely me. Y'know nobody else captures that teeny little 'beauty mark' on my thigh the way you did right there. Props, sir." She grinned wider, and let out a tiny trickle of a well-meaning laugh. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[FELIX ARTHUR MAY]

f o r . a l l . y o u . l o n e l y . b o y s

i will be president.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] THEY PULL OUR STRINGS

[atrb=width,240] So this was how University felt. Gone was the rigid structure of past schooling and overbearing teachers, the pressed uniforms and the heavy odor of classroom chemicals. Chalk dust and Teenage Lust. (An imaginary pat on the head for his poetic attempts). He was now allowed to meander in whenever the hell he felt in the mood, with little punishment for being missing in action. He'd arrived to his drawing class in good enough spirits, having finally worked up the energy to roll out of bed after skipping his first couple of scheduled classes. When Felix had first started out towards the art studio, his dark hair a mess and the eyeglasses slipping down his nose, the sun had hung pregnant with dying light in the afternoon sky. Now, as he looked up from his half-finished drawing, the sleek studio windows were pierced with the lonely blue glow that signaled the oncoming night. He leaned close to the thick pad of oversized paper, his elbows red and raw and his forearms dark with graphite and charcoal. His eyes were bleary, black and wide with usual anxiety as his gaze raked over the naked figure of the girl in front of him. There wasn't much time left and he could feel the energy coursing through his skinny legs as he anticipated his escape from human contact. Every once in a while, Felix would gaze curiously at the work belonging to the girl beside him. To his surprise, she was not very far along. Though this comforted him slightly, he didn't see much good in his own scribblings. Just a mess of not-very-well-calculated lines and hurriedly brushed in value rendering. The fact that the instructor hadn't offered any sort of advice should have been taken as an encouraging sign, but Felix however, found himself only more lost. What was the point of attending class if he didn't have anything to gain from it? He shifted his weight and the polished chair beneath him creaked loudly; the harsh sound seeming to bounce off the studio's walls. (Such an Attention Whore). Figuring he may as well make the most of the final minutes of his first (and last) class, he ran a worn pencil between his thin fingers and scrutinized the model with tired attention. She was well built; was a bit fuller than the last woman he could remember attempting to sketch. (Had he been just out of high school)? Had light eyes and dark, thick hair that fell in a short cascade around her angled face. The past two hours he'd spent trying desperately to capture her essence as well as her physical shape and the longer he stared at his work, the more he felt he'd failed in his attempts. Black and grey on fluorescent white. A contrast that looked less becoming with every passing second. As the instructor told them it was now fairly late and the class was at its conclusion, Felix sighed mournfully to himself. He watched the model slowly rise from her position in a very careless manner and tuned out what the Professor was saying about the next meeting. He had made up his mind halfway through the session, he would not be returning. His gaze swept momentarily around the room and he studied each student with vague interest. Several seemed to know one another and were leaving the classroom in small, precise groups. The model was meandering around in nothing but a bathrobe and he found his gaze naturally finding the slope of her half-exposed breasts. Before he was quite ready for her, (or expecting her for that matter), she was standing behind him, raving about his drawing in what he immediately determined to be a non-threatening way. He swiveled around to face her, stared at her for a fraction of a second, and gave her a small smile. Thin lips perking up vaguely at the edges and nodded his gratitude. "Thank You", He finally managed, for some silly reason wishing he had the knowledge of producing an American accent. Felix cocked his head to the side and gave a slight laugh, turning back to his drawing to see if maybe perhaps by some miracle it really was as detailed as this girl thought. "You can have it if you'd like." He offered, "Probably going to drop the class anyway." He sighed once and swiftly pulled himself up off the chair, stretching his arms lazily behind his head. The young artist found with some irrational disappointment, (but no surprise) that the model matched him exactly in height. He yawned and hastily tore the drawing from the bulky sketchbook, rolled the paper up into a tight tube, and handed it to the girl without much thought or expression. After a moment of reflection, he tucked what was left of his supplies under his arm and straightened his terrible posture. "You modeled very well." He offered matter-of-factly, realizing with some regret that he was being incredibly rude. She looked very young standing there. Underdressed and unprotected. And yet completely at ease with herself. In fact, the more he took her in, she didn't look very young at all. "How long?" Felix mumbled, trying very hard to keep his gaze on nothing but those curious and completely foreign grey-blue eyes.

[atrb=w idth,100] words , xxx words tagged , Dani(Lacie/Johnny) notes , i hope this is okies :3

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[LACIE ANNE BELROSE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] MAYBE I LIKE THIS ROLLERCOASTER, MAYBE IT KEEPS ME HIGH. WORDS: 800+ TAGGED FOR: renee w/ felix & madds NOTESxD speeding things up ahaha "Thank you," he'd murmured in an accent that immediately seized her attention…New York was an incredibly diverse metropolis, of course, but Lacie had yet to experience the accent of an Englishman on her home turf. She fought to suppress a smile that was probably entirely uncalled for…It was strange how much of an impression something so little as a voice could have on another. But the fact that he was English only helped to enhance that 'poet' vibe she'd caught initially, and this amused her beyond belief. Lacie had hardly noticed his eyes homing in on her breasts but, more out of habit than anything else, she took to straightening the folds of her robe as the young man went on talking. "Sure, I'd love it!" she exclaimed when he'd offered to give her the drawing, "We'll have to do a trade sometime so we're even. I have a lot of watercolor pieces building up at home. Maybe you'd like to take your pick sometime?" Lacie was an independent woman, after all, and even such a tiny exchange as this was making her feel as though she owed him something. A significant amount of hard work went into an observational drawing such as this, and she wasn't about to let it go unnoticed. It took her a moment to register the second half of his statement, for he spoke so softly that she had to lean in a little closer in order to hear him. "What? Drop the class? Are you kidding?" she asked incredulously, instinctively reaching a hand out to his shoulder in support, "You're really good! You can't just quit after the first session!" Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she'd had her fair share of struggle in life thusfar, but Lacie couldn't stand to see so much talent go to waste. Come to nothing. She took the rolled drawing from him gingerly and bowed to him in thanks, completely disregarding that lack of emotion across his countenance. "Arigato." She said with her best attempt at a Japanese accent, turning her grinning face back upward right in front of her companion's. "Once I get this thing framed, I'll be an immediate millionaire and the Met will have me on their Most Wanted List. I guarantee it." Lacie exaggerated on cheerily in the hopes of making him feel a shade better about his work. She pivoted to the left and then proceeded to set the drawing down next to her jacket and button-coated backpack. As she approached her things, Lacie spotted one button in particular which triggered something in her head: a cheap-looking little scrap of metal bearing a zombie head and the letters IZS. God, she'd nearly forgotten, but she'd promised her friend Johnny that she'd help him tack up posters tonight for their band's gig next week. International Zombie Society. They were the shittiest brand of punk rock, and they wouldn't have things any other way. Everybody else had evacuated the studio apart from herself and the gaunt-little-poet-whom-she-liked-rather-well. She continued to lend him her ear while she skidded into the studio's cramped changing room and pulled her way back into the confines of clothing. "Oh, thanks!" she exclaimed, her voice somewhat muted from between the narrow walls, "I've been modeling for, like, four or five months now. They wouldn't let me start 'til I hit eighteen, but it's been great so far." Smiling, she emerged from the changing room, pulling her zippered hoodie down so that its seam surpassed the waistline of her jeans. "Sorry bout that," she said with a sheepish laugh, "I just remembered I gotta meet up with a friend tonight. we're gonna go around town and do some good ol' fashioned advertising for our--how you saaay--musical group." Quickly, she shrugged into her jacket, tucked the drawing into her backpack and then slung the thing over her right shoulder. "Name's Lacie, by the way," she added, holding a hand out for the other to shake, "Hey, if you want, you should come and join us!" Another trickling laugh. She certainly didn't want to force the guy to go traipsing around town for the sake of a shitty punk band. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[FELIX ARTHUR MAY]

f o r . a l l . y o u . l o n e l y . b o y s

i will be president.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] THEY PULL OUR STRINGS

[atrb=width,240] Yes, this girl definitely seemed friendly enough. She appeared to be fighting a perpetual smile and while this would have made Felix uncomfortable in any other situation, her presence so close to his own didn't bother him. Pushing the black-framed glasses up into place with stiff fingers, he watched her reposition her robe. Of course, he'd be one to note that sort of thing. He'd always had a innocent fondness for a woman's breasts. (Naughty boy). Funny how one could go from nothing but a collection of curving shapes and lines on the wooden floor to a very charismatic female. As he handed her the drawing, one he still refused to believe held any real artistic value, Felix was slightly surprised she took it with such enthusiasm. "We'll have to do a trade sometime so we're even. I have a lot of watercolor pieces building up at home. Maybe you'd like to take your pick sometime? She'd offered and Felix gave her another close-lipped smile, nodding in agreement. He couldn't imagine he'd ever think to do that…Invite a complete stranger to peruse his art collection with the sole intention of being agreeable and generous. "That sounds lovely." he finally said with the air of one trying to show more confidence than they felt. Felix weighed the pencils now stuffed into one hand and was conscious of each individual ridge and texture. He was beginning to grow impatient just standing there; forced into a conversation he wasn't quite sure was going anywhere. And yet, before he could politely make his leave, his new young friend suddenly exploded at him with such passion that he could only stare wide-eyed. Was he really that exceptional that it would be a waste to duck out now? He instinctively leaned into her touch; only slightly, and listened to what she had to say, at a momentary loss for words. He turned his face from hers, red-rimmed eyes blank from beyond his glasses. Perhaps he was being a bit too hurried in his decisions. Maybe it was reckless to do just as he'd always done; bolt away from things that caused him discomfort or absolute hopelessness. Maybe for once in his life, he should give it a chance, perhaps improve himself in the process. As he was lost in his thoughts, Felix was half-conscious of his companion giving him what looked to be a ceremonial bow before mentioning something that involved being on the MET's Most Wanted List. He supposed it was meant to be a joke, and he laughed gently, running his free hand through the mop of black hair atop his head. "You definitely don't need to frame that…" He informed her, finding her increasingly more amusing the longer she stood there. "And I highly doubt it's worth that much..". Felix watched with interest as she put his drawing beside what he took to be her things, and noted how well-decorated her backpack was; covered in tiny tin plates of various colors and designs. She definitely had a unique style; and appeared to be far more bold in making her opinions known than he would ever be. (Another thing to work on). He wondered if her retreating into the changing room meant he'd have to take his leave, and yet she was still responding so he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to take the strain of his sketch book off his shoulder. For some reason, he enjoyed her company. She didn't have that judgmental look in her eyes like so many others. And she seemed genuinely good natured. He let out a couple noises of acknowledgment as she mentioned how long she'd been modeling, and he nodded in contemplation, though she could no longer see him. He was seven years her senior and somehow it was almost if he hadn't matured to the point in which he could communicate as effectively as she. And yet…Perhaps it all had to do with personality type. He was going over what could have possibly went wrong in his youth when the optimistic model returned. His heart sank slightly as she mentioned meeting up with one of her friends. Since coming to America, he hadn't had that experience. It looked as if he would be losing his one chance of interaction. She had better places to be. However, he gave her another wry smile and nodded in understanding. "You've got a band?" Felix wondered aloud, trying to make sense of the foreign accent she'd adapted with a vague smirk. He made for the door closely behind her, not having bothered to wear a jacket. He hoisted the sketchbook up into a more comfortable position but took her extended hand as fluidly as he could. Lacie. She looked like a Lacie, he decided. "Mmm. Felix." he said lightly, taking her hand nimbly, as if afraid he'd crush her fingers. (Silly, seeing as you've got the hands of a girl). He fell easily into step with her and started to shake his head at the offer of coming along with them. However, the more the young artist thought about it, it sounded far more appealing than returning to a cramped dorm room that was at this point probably filled to capacity with his roommate's crazy Hispanic friends. He blinked and nodded rather nervously, awkwardly pushing the limp strands of hair out of his eyes. "Alright" It was by far not the most detailed response Felix could have given, but it felt like the best decision he'd made all night.

[atrb=w idth,100] words , xxx words tagged , Dani(Lacie/Johnny) notes , these are some awkward felix-feelings ;D

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[LACIE ANNE BELROSE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] MAYBE I LIKE THIS ROLLERCOASTER, MAYBE IT KEEPS ME HIGH. WORDS: 600+ TAGGED FOR: renee w/ felix & madds NOTESonce johnny enters the picture, the felix-feelings will grow even more awkward, im sure ahaha "You really gotta give yourself some more credit, Felix," she said with a grin, testing out the trill of his name on her tongue. It was even more English-sounding than she'd anticipated and for whatever strange reason, the realization filled her with an irrational giddiness. Like meeting him and (she hoped) befriending him had suddenly granted her a greater cultural understanding. Still smiling to herself vaguely, Lacie readjusted the weight of her backpack and led the way out into the hall, sure to keep stride with her companion as she went. The studio was positioned on the seventh floor of the building, but Lacie always made a point of taking the stairs whenever she was on her way out. Thought of it as a kind of personal challenge to prevent herself from growing too lazy in the course of her studies. "Hey, I have an idea. How about you take the elevator and I'll take the stairs, and then we can see who makes it to the ground floor first?" It was the sort of stupid competition she and Johnny were known to partake in across shopping malls and multileveled parking ramps. Most of her general acquaintances saw her as a level-headed girl who'd grown up particularly fast, but really Lacie Belrose was nothing but an excitable child at heart. "Alright. One. Two. Three!" She counted down matter-of-factly before skidding past the set of heavy double doors and charging down the steps with as much speed as she could muster. Unfortunately, once she'd reached the third level, a couple of guys were transporting a massive sculpture out in a rather precarious manner. They likely hadn't been able to fit the thing within the confines of the elevator, but Lacie couldn't help thinking it was a stupid idea trying to maneuver the slab of mostly conglomerate stone backwards along the stairwell. "Guys. Can I slip through here really quick?" she asked hurriedly with an uncertain little grin. But the twenty-somethings just gave her a couple of grunts as if to say there wasn't any room and she'd have to wait out their tedious descent. Felix was going to beat her at this rate! And she was usually such a pro vaulting down to the ground level in record time. It had to have taken a good ten minutes before, finally, Lacie charged out from the stairwell and onto the lower level. "Oh gooood, my time sucked!" she bellowed, her voice echoing through the lobby as she went stomping over to the main exit--and Felix, who was standing beside the door like a pale piece of statuary. "These dudes were lugging some huge rock down, like, two whole flights and I couldn't get past them 'til they left the stairwell. Heh. Well, you won! Have an eventful elevator ride?" She'd put a hand to his arm when she asked it as though they'd been friends for the longest time and the touch was the most natural thing in the world. "Anyway. If you want, we could drop off our stuff in my car before we meet up with Johnny. I think he said he'd be over in front of the Starbucks," Lacie continued, loping towards the glass door and holding it open for Felix as she sauntered on through. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[FELIX ARTHUR MAY]

f o r . a l l . y o u . l o n e l y . b o y s

i will be president.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] THEY PULL OUR STRINGS

[atrb=width,240] He supposed this girl was right. Perhaps he did deserve to give himself more credit. But it wasn't the easiest thing for someone as highly self-conscious as he. He ducked his head and smiled in response, giving a light laugh as the glasses slipped once more down his nose and he studied the awkward movement of his feet. He was sure Lacie had been an outgoing child who had developed into an outgoing young adult. She came across as carefree and he pondered what kind of terrors, as was the case with every human being, had occurred in her life. Felix liked to think that for her sake, there had been very few. Just as he had looked up once more to study the highly polished tile floor of the wide hallway, Lacie spoke up again and Felix listened with interest. At first, for some silly reason he believed her to have come up with some very top secret mission of sorts. But no. All she wanted was to bolt down the stairs while he took the elevator. The fastest clearly won. He laughed louder this time, managing to hoist his sketchbook up into a more comfortable position. "Like a race?" He questioned quizzically, though he very well knew the answer. (Racy Lacie. Oh, he made jokes now!) Though it didn't sound like an idea he would have readily agreed to in any other situation, Lacie's light-heartedness was charming and infectious and he found himself nodding in agreement. He assumed that she'd done this sort of thing before. Possibly arranged a whole group of her friends to have some fun. Bolted through a variety of settings. It sounded like something he'd have been guilted into doing as a child. Before he was entirely ready for it, as he came to realize was most things when it concerned Lacie, she was counting down and dashing off down the hallway. He was surprised she didn't go sliding, the way she was charging with such obvious confidence in her abilities. Felix laughed to himself and attempted to pick up his pace, wanting to show he put some effort into the "competition". He half-jogged down the remainder of the hallway and reached the elevator just in time to see Lacey's dark head go bobbing down to the next level. Standing in front of the elevator took a whole of forty seconds. With the push of a single metallic button, the car had glided up from below and the doors slid open with an inviting ring. Felix stepped inside, punched the button for the ground floor, and leaned the entirety of his weight against the back wall. He dropped the sketchbook to lean against a skinny leg and jammed his hands into his pockets, eyeing the dial above the door that displayed the current floor number. The studio rooms had been on the seventh level; most likely to allow for the most natural outside light. It seemed like an awfully slow descent, and yet no one else marched past the wide elevator doors. His mind began to wander and he imagined just what he would do should the massive contraption come to a grinding halt, or even worse, an awful plummet. Death in an elevator. Sounded interesting yet dismal. The young artist shook the thought as finally the doors squealed open to reveal a very modem ground floor. It was if the entire floor was devoted to gallery space. Ceiling lights shone down on impressive stone sculptures and sparse framed photographs. Unlike the upper levels, which held the faint odor of oil paints and wood shavings, this floor was obviously meant to impress those who fed off the artistic talents of others, but would never touch the materials themselves. Felix sighed and looked about. No Lacie. He'd honestly thought that with the way she'd went booking through the stairwell's doors that she'd be down here by now. Perhaps she was waiting by an exit? Had left without him? Had gotten held up somehow? He smirked, unable to invasion her being held hostage. She was much too smart for that sort of thing…Or so he gathered. Feeling a bit awkward, Felix yawned to himself and inched to the side of the entrance, noting how dark the night had become behind a wall of glass doors. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wondering if the school kept the building open all night or if for appearances' sake, they left the artworks glowing in attractive warm light. He felt quite calm. Could hear the faint clickings of shoes across tile somewhere deep in the building. A woman's harsh laugh that rang out through the hush of the 'lobby'. A couple of young males walked off carrying what looked like a half-finished statue. Or perhaps it was finished, he could never always tell. And as if full of adrenaline, Lacie came flying out from behind them, her voice loud and completely counteractive to the silence. He smiled and gave her an awkward half-wave, nodding. "Yes, I've just seen them!" He informed her sleepily, "I take it you were trapped behind them?" Felix laughed then, picturing her complete with her decorated backpack struggling to get by an oversized block of stone. "The elevator was good." He said, nodding as if it could have been better, "Not many people here tonight. Was sure you'd win." He stepped after her as she held the door open and nodded his approval as she mentioned putting his things in her car. Any way he didn't have to return to his dorm sounded appealing. "Alright." He wondered momentarily just who Johnny was, but figured it'd be only a matter of moments until they were introduced. If he was anything like Lacie, it was sure to be an interesting adventure.

[atrb=w idth,100] words , xxx words tagged , Dani/Lacie notes , :3 felix is ready for a ;really good time;

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[LACIE ANNE BELROSE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] MAYBE I LIKE THIS ROLLERCOASTER, MAYBE IT KEEPS ME HIGH. WORDS: 750+ TAGGED FOR: renee w/ felix & madds NOTES hope this is ok..sorry its not very descriptive xD Her car was a hand-me-down pale green Volkswagon, which she'd affectionately nicknamed Punch. It was parked in the narrow lot nearest the art building and, really, Lacie'd been quite lucky to get the spot. Sure, nighttime classes never drew in as many students as those throughout the day, but somehow the parking area was always filled to capacity. Though she was well-aware of the fact that a cab would be a smarter means of transport, she just couldn't help taking her Beetle out on the town as often as possible. It served as a kind of mobile ad for her personality with its bumper decked out in controversial stickers and its rear-view mirror draped in beaded necklaces crafted to a fortune teller's tastes. It was fair weather beyond the studio. A mild wind whistling through the lighted concrete jungle as Lacie cheerily led her new companion towards the car. Perhaps it wasn't 'normal' to be so openly inviting a stranger to join her and Johnny on their expedition. But she had developed a talent for spotting people with whom she'd get along and, though he was quiet and a little pensive, Felix struck her as the kind of person she'd do well to befriend. She knew far too many obnoxious loudmouths that a counter-balance would do her well, indeed. "Ok. As you'll see, this car's a little banged up and the automatic lock doesn't work anymore so--" She whipped a Van Gogh keychain out from a side pocket of her backpack and brandished a silver key as though it were an impressive dagger, "Gotta do it manual-style." Expertly, Lacie twisted her tiny instrument, swung the door open, and then proceeded to gently toss her bag inside. It landed with a dull thud on the back seat. She waited a moment for her companion to follow suit, then sealed up the car again to assure their possessions would remain unharmed. The warm, green glow of the Starbucks sign across the street led her onward like a beacon, yet she made sure to keep pace with Felix for fear of losing him in the semi-gloom. __________________________________________________________ "Madds, you still got those fliers?" Johnny asked his sister, who was standing irritably beside him against the brick facade of the coffee shop. He would've held onto them himself if he weren't currently attempting to keep a grasp on six different steaming beverages. The caffeine was sure to do them all good after a trying day and, besides, Johnny'd wanted to make sure he'd be able to sample as many rich flavors as possible. He'd never ordered from Starbucks before, as its location wasn't the most convenient to his apartment or place of employment. But now that an opportunity had arisen, he saw no reason not to go all-out on the taste-testing. Heat from the cardboard cups was barely felt through the thick layer of his leather jacket. But Johnny didn't know how much longer he could stand there in comfort when the itch for a cigarette started up in his head. "C'mon, Lace…" he murmured under his breath, watching as a cluster of pedestrians went filing into an upperclass nightclub down the street. He and the others would likely be skipping the place in their promotional efforts for International Zombie Society. Classy individuals hardly ever considered going out of their way to see dirty punk bands, and so Johnny figured they ought to stick to their strengths and advertise nearer to the underground joints. His mother wasn't going to be too happy that he'd pulled little Madison into all of this. Usually, she stayed over at his and Lacie's apartment for a few hours after school, but seeing as the roommates had planned to spark a Zombie invasion throughout the neighborhood tonight, Johnny couldn't bring himself to leave his sister back at the flat. Besides, it wasn't like she'd even need to tack anything up, herself. All she had to do was walk along beside them, and receive a free, delectably expensive coffee out of the deal. Exercise and a hot burst of energy. What was not to love? Finally, Johnny spotted Lacie emerging from the other side of the street, accompanied by a young man of exactly her height and possibly even build. "Hey, you brought in reinforcements?" Johnny questioned loudly as she crossed over onto the sidewalk. "You bet," Lacie replied with a rippling laugh, "This is Felix. He's in my drawing class. Figured we could use some help getting all this stuff out." "Cool, welcome to the crazy squad, Felix," Johnny responded with a friendly grin, swinging the scraggly locks from his lightly-tanned visage, "I'd shake hands if I weren't so loaded down by all this Starbucks. Anybody up for some coffee before we get on this shit?" created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[MADISON KATERINA LAMARC]

i ' m j u s t a l i t t l e b i t c a u g h t

in the middle. life is a game and love is a riddle

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] E N J O Y T H E S H O W

[atrb=width,240] Her heels scuffed back as her thin frame continued to slump down against the brick wall of the building behind her. Her skinny arms were full of a thick packet of flyers that were spilling out at awkward angles. The edges were poking into the crooks of her elbows and the knee socks she wore were drooping down against her calves. Madison sighed in exasperation for what felt like the millionth time that evening. It was customary that she spend her time after school at her brother, Johnny's apartment. However, she hadn't counted on being in the presence of her obnoxious punk rocker of a brother for this long into the dusk. It had happened in the following fashion: She'd left the front steps of St. Mary's Academy exactly after Savannah had skipped off with her boyfriend, maneuvered the short distance down a cramped sidewalk and boarded the subway train. Gotten off somewhere in the bowels of the city and had taken the familiar path to her brother's apartment, which was closer to the school building than her parents' house where she lived. As was the usual schedule she was planning on staying at his place until her mother got out of work to take her home. However, somewhere along the line, Johnny had absolutely tricked her into trekking off to get some "coffee", which in all fact turned out to be a plot to enlist her services in hanging up posters for his stupid band. It was now much later than she'd hoped. Her mother had already texted her asking where she was and Madison had been forced, due to their ever moving location, to tell her that she would now be planning on staying at Johnny's seeing as she wasn't quite sure when they'd be finished. Her legs hurt. Her long auburn locks kept getting swept up by a faint breeze against her pale round face. She was mortified by the fact she hadn't been able to change out of her glaringly obvious Catholic School Uniform. What in God's name would Tiffany think if she saw her now? Everyone knew the second one got home it was the opportunity to don real clothes. Tiffany may not even notice me… She realized with an aggressive glance at her brother, with whom all the girls in her Sophomore class seemed madly in love. "Yeah, Yeah. I got the fliers. Dunno why You can't carry them….

[/color]" She spat out, "People probably think you're having a party the way you're carrying around like ten million drinks..Well, six. But still! I can't believe you were planning on drinking all of those! Where's mine huh? I thought this was why I was coming?!"[/color]

Madison grew more and more irritated the longer she stood there, feeling like a laughing target pinned to a café wall. Distractedly, wondering just who the two of them they were waiting for, she glanced down at the posters she was carrying. It looked disturbingly like a crude drawing of masturbating zombies, and in horror, she quickly flipped them over so she wouldn't have to see their vulgar expressions. Shooting her brother another venomous glare, Maddie sighed, thankful that it was at least getting darker and none of her friends would recognize her if they happened to be meandering up or down the street.

After a good few minutes in which Madison was holding back shrieks of annoyance at having been duped into being Johnny's "helper", she finally spotted his roommate, Lacie making her way across the street with a similarly bulit, pale man in tow.
I'm holding the band's PORN for Godssake!!!" she kept thinking with nervous hysteria.
Slowly, Maddie rocked forward so her posture was straight, and marched with some sort of snobbish authority over to Lacie, into who's arms she shoved the stack of downward facing fliers.
"Here, Lacie. I just…can't…" She backed away out of the harsh light coming from the café and studied Lacie's friend in curiosity… He looked like a -

-------------------------------


Rockstar. Yes, this was Lacie's friend. Johnny. A nickname. Felix assumed he was deserving of such a name. It showed he was laid-back. Probably friendly. Alternative and youthful. Immature, perhaps. And standing in the glow of Starbucks sign with a tray of far too many drinks in his hands, Felix knew he wasn't someone intimidating. He grinned sheepishly at Lacie's introduction and stepped forward slightly, amused by the fact he'd been referred to as "reinforcements".
Realizing it'd be pointless to attempt to shake hands, he simply gave an awkward laugh.
Crazy Squad? That could be either a fun or frightening sign. He chose to assume it was the former and nodded in acknowledgment.

"You buy every flavor?" He questioned, pushing his glasses back into place, finding Johnny's smile contagious.
Felix sunk back next to the safety of Lacie and shoved his hands into his tight pockets, eying both Johnny and a young girl off to the side who he took to be some relation. Her expression appeared to be just the opposite of the boy in front of them. Ah, to be the younger sibling. He knew the feeling well. Judging from her uniform he assumed she'd been abducted straight after school. He gave her a tiny smile to which she barely returned, and looked back to Johnny as he asked if any one would have wanted some coffee. Frankly speaking, he would have loved some. Drawing class had left him tired, and despite the fact his sketch pad was now safely locked away in Lacie's Volkswagon, his upper arm was still smarting from the strain of the heavy pad of paper.

"I'll have one if you don't mind…" He let out after a pause, surprising himself incredibly. Well, might as well be awake enough to remember this adventure, he thought almost cheerfully to himself.
The uniformed young girl stepped forward as well. ( Pounced was more like it…)
"It's about time Johnny…Can I puh-lease have my Frappucchino now?!"
She thew her weight into who he now knew was her brother ( Acting only as siblings do. ), and plucked a drink from the tray before storming off to stand behind Lacie. As if at any opportunity she could and would flee the group.

[/div][/td]
[td][atrb=width,100]

words ,

xxx words


tagged ,

Dani -/ Johnny/Lacie


notes ,
FINALLY! hope its okies

[/td]
[/tr]
[/table]

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[/center]