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| Dude, Where's My Pony?; Leon | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 28 2008, 11:37 PM (436 Views) | |
| Shayla Robinson | Mar 28 2008, 11:37 PM Post #1 |
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4th Year Student / Half-Vampire
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Christmas was over, and Shay was miserable. Once again, she'd asked for a pony for Christmas, and once again, she hadn't gotten one. Sighing, she paced around the corridors, looking for Nate so she could tell him about her upsetting news. Each year she stayed up for hours on end, waiting until midnight so Santa would appear and deliver her a pony, but Santa never came at midnight, and Shay got bored of waiting and missed him. Then, in the morning, she woke up to tons of presents but... no pony. "Where is my pony?" she moaned, pouting to herself. All she wanted was a pony, maybe one that was dyed pink, but no. No, they wouldn't give her a pony, stupid parents. So what if she might end up drinking it's blood and killing it? At least she'd have a pony! Or, well, a dead pony. Was a dead pony still considered a pony, or just..d.ead? She wasn't exactly sure. The whole pony business kind of sounded better in her head then when she actually really tried to think about it for real. "Nate!" she called out, slightly grumpy, like a child who had been refused, well... a pony. The bright blonde haired fourth year crossed her arms over her chest and pouted a deeper pout, borderlining on a minor hissy fit. Where was her Natey when she needed him? Then, suddenly, she saw black hair, and whether because it was that she didn't really know many other guys with black hair, or because she was in a slight emotional crisis because of her lack of pony, she instantly jumped on the back of the black haired boy, as she often did to Nate, expecting to be given a piggy back ride. "Natey! Mum and Dad didn't get me a pony! I really thought they would this year, but nooooo, just because I might have eaten it. Jeez, parents," she loudly in excited tones. That was about the time she realized the black haired boy was most definitely not Nate. "You're not Nate," she told him, instantly getting off of him and looking at him accusingly. "Why arn't you Nate?" Obviously, the most normal thing in the world to do would be to blame the person you jumped on for not being the person you expected it to be when you jumped, Shay thought, scowling at the boy. "Nope. You are not Nate. Or a pony. Hmm." she stated, pouting a little bit. Great. Now there was no Nate, and no pony. Now, if she'd had a pony in this situation, maybe she would've ridden up and not had to jump on this random person, because if she had a pony, maybe she would have seen he really didn't look anything like Nate at all. But, she had no pony, and therefore, she had no Nate. It all made sense, now. "Who are you?" she asked, tilting her head suddenly in the realization that she really had no clue as to who she was talking to. OOC: It's random, silly, and I've had too much caffine, so if you want me to change it, I have no problems doing so. -Knob |
Blood Flavored Ice-cream
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| Léon Labelle | Mar 29 2008, 08:20 AM Post #2 |
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7th Year Student
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“Piss off.” he muttered, as he shamelessly shoved the overly clingy girl off of his bare body. She landed with a thud on the floor, too drunk to know what was happening, she turned over and grasped the floor, letting out a suppressed moan. Léon Labelle’s hand rifled his ebony black hair and turned over in bed slowly, being sure not to set off the hangover. It was a futile attempt, at that, as the migraine shot into life, kicking Léon straight in the face, showing no remorse. “Retched whore.” he murmured. The boy could not even remember what he had been doing the night before, or why there was a naked girl in his bed. Smirking at the thought, the boy’s certainty returned. So, maybe he did know what happened, or, at least a portion of it. Confusing thoughts, yes. Concentrating, the boy called the only thing he could think of. “Enervate.”. His memories of the previous night steamrolled in, as a swarm of bats would, one after another, after another, after another, and so on. It was Christmas. Such a putrid, worthless excuse for a holiday. Everyone was too busy being cheery to understand that the majority of the school had no idea what the holiday was about. Lowlifes, wandering aimlessly, asking for gifts. If it were Labelle’s choice, he would put them all to the slaughter. Trailing off in thought, he stood, wrapping a silky, white sheet around his vacant body. He paced briskly over to his drawer. Not contemplating what he was doing, he lunged in, retrieving that day’s attire, not exactly so considerate about what he had pulled out. Skimming it, he spotted a pink shirt (not so tacky), a pair of faded, tattered, and ripped jeans (lovely), and one of his famous studded belts. Perfect, he thought to himself. Within moments, the Slytherin was dressed and examining himself in the mirror. His hair was perfect; he was perfect, end of story. Anyone who dared call him out on it would not remember doing so the week after. Ruffling his hair slightly, he began his journey for the day. First stop in his mental checklist was Professor Eucharistia. He could only hope he had some sort of potion or remedy for hangovers. Labelle treaded at a quick pace. The boy sputtered and twitched as the young blonde-haired girl hopped onto his back. “Geteroffme!” he called, ravaging, trying to swing the young girl off of his own body. Why was he always the one targeted by fourteen year-old girls? "Natey! Mum and Dad didn't get me a pony! I really thought they would this year, but no, just because I might have eaten it. Jeez, parents.” It was then that the young girl hopped off of him an eyed him quizzically. Why was she eyeing him? He should have been the one pulling out the Cruciatus curse! She had just frolicked all the way to his back, chanting about ponies and Nate. “I’m not your boyfriend, little girl. I’m also sure he wouldn’t want you mistaking him for 7th Year Slytherins.” he snarled rudely. "You're not Nate. Why aren’t you Nate? Nope. You are not Nate. Or a pony. Hmm.". Léon watched grimly as she stopped to look and pout. A grimacing look swept his face as he took a step back crossing his arms. "Who are you?" the girl asked. “Stupid girl doesn’t even know who she is talking to. Too bad.” he grinned maniacally. “My name would be Léon Labelle. And who are you?” as spat through gritted teeth. All of the meaningless conversation was getting Labelle nowhere, and he really should have been speaking to Nostradamus. Not to mention the beating, pulsation of his now immense migraine. He was by now contemplating murder, even if that was the least bit rash, it would surely mean he could get on with his day. OOC: http://www.drawings.gr/emo-boys-1.jpg |
![]() Life is but a dream, an illusion on the way to death. | |
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| Shayla Robinson | Mar 29 2008, 10:05 AM Post #3 |
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4th Year Student / Half-Vampire
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"Hmm, you smell like alcohol," Shayla noted, (whether it was because she could smell it in his blood, or because he just smelled really badly of alcohol, she couldn't tell), when he grumpily called her stupid. Of course, that just bounced right off the happy-go-lucky vampire, and she smiled at him and shook her head. "Of course you arn't Natey," she said, rolling her eyes. "Natey's meaner, and really, if you were Nate, no one would mistake you as someone else. EVERYONE knows Nate," Shayla told him, rolling her eyes. After all, who didn't know the Head Boy of the school? You basically had to live under a rock not to. "Plus, Nate's a 6th year Slytherin, and he's scarier looking then you are," she mumbled, upset that this boy hadn't been Nate after all. She stopped a moment to survey this New-Not-Nate. Holding up her hands, she made a tiny box with her fingers and used it like a telescope, pretending it let her see his face better. They were kind of similar, she supposed. Both had black hair and supposedly dark eyes, and a style of dress Nate called 'emo' once, although Shayla-Shay didn't really know what he meant by that. Both were taller than her, but then again, most people were. The slightly short Gryffindor could make anyone look like a giant, really. "Hmmm, he looks like Nate, sort of, but Nate's better looking," she noted to herself, then nodded in confirmation, making a mental note. "Hmm, smells like alcohol, obviously a drinker... seemingly easily irritated..." she quickly pulled out a tiny Notebook and wrote the things down, happy that maybe she could serve to have gotten more information for Slytherin's "Dark Prince." The overly happy vampire took a moment to place the notebook, a miniture of the Devil's handbook, into her pocket, straightening her clothing for a moment. The Gryffindor wore a Black and red hoodie she'd found over Christmas break. It had the words, "I don't Bite, much..." on it, which made Shay giggle at, though no one else really knew the irony. A tiny grey undershirt could be seen under it, but other than that, her outfit was an undescript pair of jeans and the black and red converse she'd been given for Christmas by a secret admirer. She didn't really care about that, but thought the shoes were cool, so she kept them. Normally she didn't care what she wore, but today she'd been so grumpy she felt like matching, something she kind of considered a sin. "Leon Labelle," she said, letting it roll of her tounge. She nodded, mentally adding that to her information, but figuring she'd write it down later. "Hmm... Leon means Lion, I think.. Or, at least, Leo does...." she mused to herself, but eying him she shook her head. "You don't much look like a lion." "I'm Shayla Robinson, or at least, I was yesterday. Hmmm... I guess I'm still Shay today," she mused, wondering if people maybe changed from day to day. |
Blood Flavored Ice-cream
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