What Is Left After?

Roxanne: I pouted, and crossed my arms over my chest, pretending I was mad as we walked into the hotel.

Wayne: "Nah, I just wanted to get in bed with you."

Jelsa Mepsey wrote:Wayne: I sighed. "I seriously want to get some rest."

Jelsa: I shrugged. "It's really up to you. I think you're more tired than I am..."

Free of shame, I nod. "That's probably absolutely true. So I think it's your turn now."

Aimery: I laugh. "You could've just said that. I'm open to suggestions."

Joseph: "Hmm...it's a little quiet..."

Jelsa: "But...I don't know what to do."

Wayne: I smirked. "Then let's get some."

Aimery: I shake my head, sticking my tongue out at him. "I'm not that easy."

Wayne: 'fine. Can we at least sleep in the same bed, though? Please?"

(dirty dirty OoO)

(LMAO. WANYE!)

Aimery: I laugh again, pulling open the door to the hotel. "Maybe."

Sweet wrote:Aimery: I laugh. "You could've just said that. I'm open to suggestions."

Joseph: "Hmm...it's a little quiet..."

Roxanne: I slowed my pace, and glanced at him, "Yes, and...?"

Joseph: I shrug. "Expected more people."

Jelsa Mepsey wrote:Jelsa: "But...I don't know what to do."

"Make it up as you go along," I reply. "What d'you suppose I've been doing the whole time? Just try what seems like a good idea. If it's not, I'll be sure to tell you what I think."

(i know :/)

Wayne: "Come on. Give me an answer, please?"

Jelsa: I shook my head. "I think you should handle it."

Aimery: I glance at him. "Sure. But try anything and I'll bite you....maybe."

Jelsa Mepsey wrote:Jelsa: I shook my head. "I think you should handle it."

I encircle her in my arms. "You know, I'm quite happy just holding you close and talking."

((Blah. There's no way in hell I'm going to get caught up at this point. Do you think I could just re-join? It's not like I was in it for very long, anyway.))

Wayne: I smirked. "Bite me? I'd like to see you try."

Jelsa: I grinned. "Yeah. Me too, actually. This is perfect."

(Sure you can. XD)

Aimery: I roll my eyes. "Well come over here. I can't bite you all the way...well, you aren't that far away."

((Awesome!

*runs to Archives and digs out old profile and intro post*

Name: Susan
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Equipment: Large, waterproof backpack which contains a pocket knife, two water bottles, a box of matches, a pocket translator (can translate English, French, German, Italian, Spanish, and Dutch, with 5,000 words in each. Just the important stuff to help you get by), a high-powered flashlight, a few packs of batteries of various sizes (mostly double-A), waterproof gloves, a winter hat (the kind that covers your ears and has those tassels that hang down), a scarf, an umbrella (the compact, fold-up kind that veritably explodes out at the touch of a button), some granola bars, a roll of twine, a roll of fishing line, my black and white Nook (Nook > Kindle), the charger for said Nook, a notebook and some mechanical pencils, headphones, my iPod Touch, the charger for said iPod Touch, some extra hair elastics, and knitting needles of various sizes. The rest of the space is completely taken up by a variety of different yarns. You darn bet I came prepared. I've had several apocalypse plans for a while now. The knitting is mostly to pass the time, but I can make plenty of practical items. Finally, I carry around a tall stick. It's thick and a little on the heavier side for a walking stick, because I could also use it for some self-defense whacking.
Appearance: Kinda short, standing at 5'3''. Caucasian, with brown hair, eyes that change color depending on my clothes and surroundings, and a shiznit-load of freckles. The freckles are sprinkled mostly on the tops of my cheeks and across the bridge of my nose, but they're scattered all over my face, too. I also have them on my arms and hands, but not so much on my legs. My hair, which I wear in low pigtails that start at the base of my head, abruptly turns from brown to purple a little above my shoulders. The purple is fading a little, giving way to the decolorized, blonde hair underneath. I wear a plain t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Comfort over fasion. On my feet are a pair of running shoes.))

Susan
I strolled along, twirling my large stick as though it were a colorguard flag. Of course, I wasn't in the colorguard, and if any of the girls who were members heard my mention of the word 'twirling,' I'd soon find a flagpole protruding from my torso.
But that is neither here nor there.
I sang to myself as I walked, my marching band instincts forcing me to both step to the beat of the song and lead with my left foot. Some things just never leave you, regardless of where you are or what's happening.
"Je ne sais pas, comment te dire j'aurais peur de tout foutre en l'air, de tout détruire, un tas d'idées à mettre au clair, depuis longtemps, mais j'ai toujours laissé derrière mes sentiments..."
Yeah, most of the music I listen to is in French. The song I was singing was the chorus of "Je ne sais pas" by Joyce Jonathan. I didn't dare attempt to sing the verses; she went waaaay too quickly for me to get my mouth around the words. When I got to the next verse, I took to humming instead. I wondered if there were people around who could hear me. That would be embarrassing. It's not that I have a bad voice or anything--I just get shy when people hear me sing. But heck, even if there were people around, I was in too bright a mood to not sing. And so, sing I did.

((Can someone give me a basic rundown here? Just what I need to know.))

I wrap my arms adound her and press my mouth and nose into her hair. I inhale her fragrance and groan happily. Suddenly I look up.
"Do you hear singing?" I ask, frowning.
I pull on my boxers and trousers, and throw on my awesome coat. Lastly, I put on my hat, dig the sandals from my bag and grab my axe from its place in the corner.
"I'll be right back," I say, then climb out of the ground-floor window. I see the short girl in the middle of the road and pull my goggles from my hat-brim. Pointing my axe at her (a threatening but not very effective pose), I enunciate my words with precision.
"Who are you?"

((Basically, the characters are in various stages of hooking up. Wayne and Aimery are fairly close to each other. Roxanne and the guy I can't remember have gone looking for their parents. Peter (my character: basically me) and Jelsa are extremely close. i.e. they were both naked until this post.))

Regret wrote:...I see the short girl...

((*dies a little inside*

Ahaha, I know I'm short. Doesn't mean I like it

Alright, thanks for the update. Also, I gleaned the nudity bit from the fact that he pulled on his boxers and trousers xD))

Susan
I tipped my head a little to my right side, looking at the strange guy with goggles and an axe. Granted, I've seen weirder, but he was pretty high up there.
"I'm nobody!" I said. "Who are you? Are you nobody t--sorry. Poetry outburst. Anyway, name's Susan. Who might you be, then?"

(Uh, what did I miss?)

"'I am Ozymandias, king of kings. Look upon my works ye mighty and despair.' You're not the only one with poetry. My name's Peter, and I'm possibly pleased to meet you."

((Don't take the 'short' thing personally. I'm 6'4", so most girls are short compared to me.))

((Ah, I didn't xD But I'm short to people of average height, soo... ))

"I'm possibly pleased ta meet you, too," I answered in my slight Boston accent, grinning wryly. "I daresay ya've made a favorable first impression."
I already liked this guy. I think it might've been a mix of the goggles, the English accent, and the poetry references.

Regret wrote:"'I am Ozymandias, king of kings. Look upon my works ye mighty and despair.' You're not the only one with poetry. My name's Peter, and I'm possibly pleased to meet you."

((Don't take the 'short' thing personally. I'm 6'4", so most girls are short compared to me.))

All these guys are so tall nowadays. -.- The boys are getting taller and the girls are getting shorter. *blows raspberry*