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Post by ryder hayes on Mar 27, 2009 18:09:27 GMT -5
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Well at least it wasn’t snowing. No, it was raining. Good for some people because they tended to like the weather cold and drizzly and without a cause to run around laughing and joking and having a good time. Bad for others because they could not get done half of what they originally wanted to get done. Sometimes not even half; more than half was equally regular. Still you could always find something to do on a rainy day where the sun isn’t shining and the clouds are grey and dark and dismal like the inside confines of a misty cave situated in a vast empty wasteland. The last few days hadn’t been too bad for this one particular boy who was suffering from inside boredom, a very common disease caught by hundreds of people who are stuck indoors on a horrible rainy day. There was always the knowledge that rain would have to come again; it couldn’t remain sunny for the rest of his life now, could it? No, that would be asking for just a bit too much. This twenty-one year old knew exactly that - life was not fair no matter how much you wished for it to be, and so you had to learn to deal with things that weren’t exactly going according to plan. He’d be so lucky if they were. Funny things tend to happen when you’re within the company of people whom you really don’t know and you only realise this fact when you wake up in the morning. Nursing a sore head from whatever injury he seemed to have received, Ry found it almost impossible to drag himself up from the couch he was currently sprawled across as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. What exactly had happened last night to give him this much of a headache? This is one of those times in your life where you conduct a mental checklist.
Drinking? Most certainly, although it wasn’t with anyone he knew. Having fun? Most definitely. Ry liked to make a point to enjoy himself thoroughly whenever he was out. Drinking heavily? No. Ryder had enough sense to know that he didn’t want to be suffering from a horrific hangover the following morning and so had been careful enough to concentrate on his alcohol consumption. He tried closing his eyes and picturing the scenes, flashing images like a slideshow of photographs or power points, but something was purposely impairing his memory and making it extremely difficult for him to remember anything. This probably wasn’t a good thing. Ryder wanted to know how he happened to have a bruise sharpening under the bangs on his forehead and he was aiming to find out. Without fail. As said Ryder’s bangs covered up the bruise and so he didn’t have to worry about that, no. Still all know what happens when you mix Ryder with alcohol - his actions are not exactly going to be forgettable. It was one of the many cons to being a particularly open and confident person when he wasn’t out of his head and having the expressive nature that allows him to easily start conversations with people about random and or otherwise pointless things that no one else really pays any attention to. Hell, if Ryder counted up the amount of times he’d woken up not knowing what had happened the night before… well let’s just say that it isn’t a pleasant experience. Twenty-one years of age and he was all ready having repeated blackouts. That or someone was stalking him every time he went out and had a goal to hit him over the head. Ah perhaps that was where the bruise had come from.
After he had been tucked up in bed for the majority of the morning, he had come across a rather intriguing girl over IM. Now normally Ryder wouldn’t go talking to strangers, but he was pretty sure he’d seen her somewhere around on the tour. It was most likely due to the fact that she was a merch seller for one of the other bands—clearly. Ryder felt a little stupid for not realising this, and then remembered that the slight hangover was probably giving him a little bit of amnesia. Still, once he recited everything he should know about himself—name, age, where he was, what he did and why he was here—Ry came to the conclusion that everything was fine, and he wasn’t in a disposition to meet this girl. Well it was too late now; he wasn’t complaining, and his headache wasn’t too bad. The rest of his band mates were nowhere in sight, and he had a sneaking suspicion something had happened to them last night, too. Ryder, being the only one without someone to go off with as he wasn’t the type of person to bunk off with a total stranger, had ambled his sorry self back to the tour bus where he had collapsed on the couch inside, and woken up this morning with a strange yet small shaped bruise on his forehead, cleverly disguised by his bangs, and a slight headache.
Sensibly, Ryder packed away his laptop and poured himself a glass of water. Yes, water, as he did want to have a clear mind for when this girl—or ‘merchy’ as he so called her—arrived. In all honesty he could have gone over to hers, but he thought it would be easier considering she may get questioned by her roommates, and as his band mates were not here… well, it just made the whole situation easier. Ryder took out the freshly baked cookies he had made earlier for himself and set them on the cooling rack, ready for when she came in. Feeling slightly optimistic, Ryder impatiently opened the door of the tour bus and left it open as he attempted to flatten his very messy morning hair. After somewhat succeeding, he absently manoeuvred himself to the couch once more and picked up the controller for his Game cube, switched it on, and watched as one of his favourite games came across the screen.
STATUS! finished WORDS! 1020 TAGGED! symphony! OUTFIT! HERE NOTES! first paragraph is recycled (: mine, of course.
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Post by symphony-rain wilkens on Mar 27, 2009 18:42:23 GMT -5
Well let the poets cry themselves to sleep And all their tearful words will turn back into steam [/b] -----x-x------
Symphony was nervous. Why was she nervous, you ask? Well, there were quite a few reasons. But the one that was making her the most nervous was the fact that she was probably one of the shyest people on earth...despite how she may or may not act online. When it came to talking to people face to face she failed. Her mouth often times wouldn't open around strangers, and if it did her voice was always too quiet. So why the hell had she agreed upon meeting a complete and total stranger on a day that could only be described as completely miserable and boring? Because the day had been completely miserable and boring, that was why. Being bored never did good things to Symphony...never. She never did anything completely insane, but she also wasn't even quite herself.
Once she had said her final goodbye's to the boy, Ryder...or bat man, she shut her laptop gently, as it wasn't even her's...it was Drew's. And Drew would have murdered her if she broke his "Baby". Of course anything electronic was Drew's baby. He was really an odd guy...but then again, most people in her family were pretty odd, they all were so interesting...and then there was her. She was just quiet, sweet Symphony. She knew she'd never be anything more...because while her brother and cousin where in a band, and everyone knew them, she was stuck designing and selling their t-shirts. But that was just life. Or at least it was Symphony's life.
She got up off the bed. It wasn't a particularly nice bed, but it wasn't too bad. Still not as nice as it would have been to be able to stay in a motel...but also not as bad as sleeping in the van, which they had to do on their first night in town. But Symphony was good at her job, she was. So they'd been staying in the motel for the last few days, with the money she got from selling the things she designed. Because in addition to selling their shit her brother and cousin also somehow conned her into making their shit. And of course Symphony couldn't say no...it wasn't really in her vocabulary. And she really didn't mind, not that much. She liked the designing more than the selling. She was, after all, an artist.
Looking out the window and seeing the rain fall she sighed a bit. She'd have to borrow Drew's car. If he let her...but she knew he would. He probably wouldn't even question her like Milo did. And so she slipped on her shoes, and a light jacket, before walking out of her room and shutting the door behind her. She didn't bother to lock it...mostly because Milo, her older brother, had the key, and she didn't know when he would be getting back from wherever the hell he was. But it wasn't her job to keep an eye on her little brother, so even though she would be nervous, it wasn't any of her business if he didn't come back for days...not that he would. The band would murder him if he dared to pull such a stunt.
She tracked down her cousin, Drew, who was standing outside on the porch smoking a cigarette in the rain. Typical Drew. She pulled up the hood of her jacket, and walked over to him. "Can I use your car?" She asked, her eyes looking as though they were saying 'please?', although she didn't say it out loud. Drew looked at her for a second, before shrugging, and pulling his keys out of his pocket, and holding them out for her. go head he said, grinning at her. She loved her brother, but her cousin was way more lax, so she had to love him for that. She shot him a small smile, and took the keys, hopping into his car. For a moment she felt as though she was back home again...borrowing Drew's car, wondering where Milo was, all of that...only her parents weren't there. Then again, she still talked to them often, so she couldn't complain. She just missed them, that was all. That was normal, right? Right.
It was not a long drive, not at all. She would have walked if it wasn't raining. And so she didn't even bother to turn the radio on as she drove, instead just trying to convince herself that she was going to be fine. Ryder didn't seem like a bad guy...he seemed nice, so she would be fine. Or so she told herself.
But the car ride ended too quickly, and the next thing she knew she was pulling the keys out of the ignition, and sticking them in the pocket of her fleece. She bit her lip, then glanced towards the bus. It was obviously the one he had described...it had orange stripes and everything. She was pretty sure she'd even heard their band preform a couple of times...even if she couldn't quite remember if she liked them or not. But oh well, there wasn't any avoiding it. She'd have to go in sooner or later.
The blonde took a deep breath, then opened the door, climbing out like she'd done so many times before, and making a mental note to adjust the seat back to where Drew had it when she got out at home...well, it wasn't really home, but it was where she was staying. Walking slowly over to the bus she counted her steps, feeling more and more nervous. What was she supposed to do? Knock on t he door? Walk in? She didn't know! Why hadn't she asked? Because that would be an odd question to ask...so as she reached the bus she took another deep breath, looked up at the gray sky, and knocked on the door timidly, hoping he could hear.
-----x-x------status; finished count; 1038 lyrics; poison oak by bright eyes tags; ryder! outfit; click [/sup][/center]
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Post by ryder hayes on Mar 29, 2009 18:13:37 GMT -5
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Perhaps the boy shouldn’t have been so easily mislead, either. It was his own fault that he’d gone and started drinking in the first place, but you couldn’t really blame him. He was twenty one years old, after all, and when you reached the age of twenty one in America you were legally able to drink. He was simply enjoying being a twenty one year old, and why shouldn’t he be? It was his right to do so. If alcohol wasn’t legal, then there wouldn’t be the age restriction for it. So Ryder believed that he was within every right to go out drinking. The fact that he’d been manipulated also, whilst he had been under the evil influence of alcohol, was just another one of those sad effects that had occurred as a result of drinking too much. Ryder didn’t normally drink an excessive amount, but last night had been an exception. Too tired of being alone, Ryder had tried to invoke the company of others, ending rather badly. He also thought that his keys had been stolen at one point, although later he had found them in the back of his pockets.
The things that happened when Ryder was under the influence of alcohol. Well, some people may not want the events repeated, Ryder amongst them, but others may find it incredibly amusing to say the least. There was just no stopping him once he had the venomous liquid burning through his veins, an unstoppable force of nature. The Joker did have something right at least—when an unstoppable force met an immovable object (i.e., the unstoppable force being the alcohol and Ryder here being the immovable object) nothing good would come of it. It was the same with sugar; if you gave Ryder sugar, then it would be inevitable that he would bounce off the walls, and more than likely end up harming himself in the process, waking up and wondering how on earth he had managed to become covered head to toe in bruises.
Such a thing happened this morning when he woke, and Ryder wasn’t a very happy bunny about it. He had no real experience with hangovers, although there was a first time for everything he supposed. No, he couldn’t really suppose that because it was true; there was a first time for everything. Such as a first time for meeting random people off of the internet, but then again… everyone did that nowadays. What with the enhanced security, mobile phone tracking and the general knowledge that all sensible teens carried around with them, things seemed to be relatively safer. Or perhaps that was because Ryder was still somewhat drugged up on skittles, trying to eliminate the lingering aftertaste of all the different mixtures he’d tried last night, that he wasn’t really thinking coherently. Oh well, he was alive and that was all that mattered right now.
Perhaps this girl was not who she claimed to be. No, that was ridiculous. Ryder shook his head as he absently began pouring the cookie mixture in to what looked like decent lumps of cookie dough. After pushing them in to the oven, he licked his lips and turned to the bowl. Now, it was known that you shouldn’t eat too much of the mixture, but Ryder had an incredibly strong immune system, and he began licking the bowl as if it were an everyday thing. After finishing, he pushed the bowl under the taps and washed it up and for lack of better things to do, washed everything else up as well. Thinking that it just wouldn’t do for his visitor to come to a massive trash heap, Ryder cleared the now sparkling items of washing up away and cleared the surface, before turning to the collection of items huddled on the floor of the bus.
Socks, perhaps a couple of shirts—yes, indeed there was one right there. He picked them all up and pushed them all in to the basket in a stowaway cupboard; whenever the opportunity passed, they always used the washing machine, not wanting to really outstay their welcome in whatever clothes they were slowly becoming hobos in. Not that it was generally thought of as a bad thing, really; what else did you expect from boys on tour? Still Ryder had, over the past year, grown used to the fact that you really did need to pack more things than you would have thought necessary, and that washing them wasn’t really an option unless you took them to the emergency dry cleaners and hoped that they would be done on first priority. Normally, when stopping in big cities, they could do so, and so Ryder sought no needs to complain.
Half the time dear Ryder here wasn’t even himself when they were travelling on the actual bus. In front of fans he was his normal quirky random and yet decisively impulsive self. You couldn’t really blame the boy; he’d been torn from his home, although it was his own decision, and his parents weren’t really backing the whole musical career choice. They were actually at the point of disowning him, and were on the verge of throwing him out. Well, in fact, they had at one point, and Ryder had resorted to that of a small coffee place, and an apartment using the money from his job to pay for rent and practice space for his band. Still in the end it all worked out well. Ryder was pleased to say, because touring and playing shows made him ecstatically happy.
Knock knock. Oh!
Ryder had pulled out the cookies, now steaming, and he quickly poked them with a knife to make sure they were indeed cooked properly, before he bounded to the door, grinning from ear to ear. One pull of the handle, and his eyes came upon those of the girl whom he had been having the IM with earlier. “Why hello there, merchy.” He said with one of his infamous wide smiles. “Come on in—help yourself to a cookie! Unless you wish to wait, which I shall not resent you for; they are somewhat still hot.” He stepped aside, allowing time for her to come in before he closed the door. It was certainly a lot cleaner after his random burst of excitement to make things at least somewhat tidy for her.
STATUS! finished WORDS! 1061 TAGGED! symphony! OUTFIT! HERE NOTES! i would be a little worried if that long post of yours was only 138 words. i am seeing things 8]
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Post by symphony-rain wilkens on Mar 29, 2009 19:07:19 GMT -5
Well let the poets cry themselves to sleep And all their tearful words will turn back into steam [/b] -----x-x------
As the blonde waited for the door to open she stared at her feet intently, as though they were the most interesting things on earth. Even though in reality they weren't. And just then a thought popped into her head...what if this guy was one of those internet preditors you always heard about? What if he was secretly an old man who wanted to rape her...it was possible...he had even offered cookies. That was the classic thing to do...lure the poor kid in with cookies. But Symphony shook her head, and smiled a little bit to herself. Impossible! He had a tour bus, so he was obviously on tour, so she doubted he was an old man. She was just letting her imagination run wild...plus she was hardly a little girl. No, she was nineteen years old, almost twenty, even if she didn't really look it! Although you did hear about people her age getting raped...but she pushed the thoughts out of her head. It was stupid, the whole thought was stupid. There was nothing wrong with meeting some random person you'd only talked to online, people did it all the time. She was just letting her imagination get the best of her. As usual.
When the door opened she jumped a little bit, and looked up. She'd almost forgotten where she was, even though it couldn't have been that long that she had been standing there, having a debate with herself about weather this guy was some kind of sex offender or not. But looking at him, in a very timid way, it was clear to her that he was not. Well, he could have been, but he didn't fit what she was thinking of. She was thinking an old fat man in a pale yellow t-shirt with sweat pants. But this guy wasn't old, nor was he fat. Well, he was probably a little bit older than her...two or three years, but that wasn't that bad. She hung out with her twenty-one year old cousin all the time. It was no big deal really. Although she was still nervous...not because she thought he was going to hurt her, or anything, but because she was Symphony...she was always nervous about something or another.
"...hey." she said, in her slightly quiet voice. She was trying to hide her nervousness, and thought she was doing a pretty damn good job, if she did say so herself. She followed him in, looking around, and biting her lower lip. She'd never actually been in a tour bus before, due to the fact that her brother's band would rather spend their money on booze than buses, and so they were stuck with a van. She loved the band, but they needed to learn how to spend money more wisely...or just keep her in charge of it, you know, either one. "I...I'll wait, until they're less...hot." She said, slowly, thinking about what a complete idiot she was sure she sounded like. Sadly she wasn't the type of person not to care what people thought of her...instead she worried about it every minute of her life, worrying if people thought she was weird, and just wishing she could blend into the background and no one could ever see her again. if she were to have a super power, she would pick invisibility, and she would stay invisible all the time. Sadly she was stuck being a plain normal human being. No powers for her. Except for maybe the power of being the shyest person on earth...
Bringing her right hand up to her mouth she started chewing on the nail of her pinky. It was a gross habit, really, but she couldn't stop it. Especially when she was nervous. But catching what she was doing she dropped her hand to her side before she could do any damage to the poor nail, and looked around nervously. She wished she were more like her cousin, who could talk to anyone, and not feel the least bit nervous. But she wasn't...she was Symphony. Which she only ever minded at times like these.
"I...think I changed my mind. I'll have a cookie now..." She said, still looking around the place. It wasn't as messy as she imagined it would be...she kind of figured it would be a horrible mess, as in her experience with guys their rooms and such were always a mess. But maybe he wasn't like her brother and cousin...or maybe there was a girl in his band. The possibilities were endless, and she kind of wanted to ask about it, but decided against it. Not only would it be a stupid, and completely useless question, but it was just an odd one to ask. hey, are you some kind of neat freak? because most guys are complete pigs wasn't exactly the best thing to say to someone you had just met, really. And Symphony didn't want Ryder to dislike her! She didn't want anyone to dislike her...she hated being disliked. It always made her feel so...useless.
-----x-x------status; finished count; 884 notes; haha, oh god, I'm so stupid at times ;O that was a typo, I do believe. lyrics; poison oak by bright eyes tags; ryder! outfit; click [/sup][/center]
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