The Lady Of Shalott

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road run by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.

Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the beared barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly;
Down to tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
The Lady of Shalott."
~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

It's just a song....Or so you've been told. In Thunder Bay around Lake Superior, strange things have been happening, especially on the Isle Royal when the senior class takes a camping trip there. It's almost as if...well almost as if the story of King Aurthur is replaying itself.

Name:
Age:
Looks:
Role: (arthur, gwen, ect.)

Rules: (yes I am adding rules to this)
There is only one Arthur, one Lancelot, ect. First come first serve.
Your charries don't realize what is happening, and their names do not have to match up exactly with the charries from the stories of Arthur. They only have to play the part.
If your charries feel like Matress Mamboing FF>> Got it? This WILL NOT end up in Mature!
No GMing
No PPing
Please, your posts must be at least 3 sentances. If you're having an off day, I understand, but...come on. It's not that hard.
Last but not least, HAVE FUN!

Name: Amorelle
Age: 17
Looks:will post in a sec
Role: gwen

I have Lancelot and Morgana, I will post them later

Name: Lance Marshal Grimm (Aka Grimm)
Age: 18
Looks:
Role: Lancelot

Name: Morgan Celestra Martin
Age: 18
Looks:
Role: Morgana

Cold stones totally surrounded him, the only light in the large cell came from the moon that shown through the barred window. He looked to the heavy wooden door as he heard voices coming down the hall and quickly manuvered away from the window and into the shadowed corner so as to not be noticed. The large door swung open and two gaurds threw a thrashing girl into the cell.
"I can't wait for the day she goes," the first gaurd said to the second, laughing as they watched her struggle to get up. Gritting her teeth, the skinny girl spun to face them, growling menacingly. The gaurds got a panicked look on their faces as they turned and hurried out of the cell, slamming the door behind them. The boy in the shadows wondered why they were so afraid of the tiny girl, she didn't have much to her.
The girl stood there until their steps had faded into the distance, then she crumpled to the ground. The boy watched her curiously and when he was sure they gaurds weren't going to come back, he slowly approached her. The gaurds fear of her was enough to making him cautious, it wasn't often they were scared. Especially of little girls.

I like it! what's it for?

Hold on! Not done yet!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the boy grew closer, he could hear the minute sobs that erupted from the crumpled figure, shaking her small frame violently. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, but inevitably did just the opposite. The girl jumped and scrambled away from his touch. His figure loomed frighteningly before her, the moon casting an eerie glow on him.
"D-don't hurt me, please," she managed to say in a small, tear filled voice.
"Hey, it's ok. It's just me," the boy held out his hand to her, cursing his lack of suave. "I won't hurt you, I promise." The girl looked at his hand for a long moment before cautiously taking it, letting him pull her up. He gave a lopsided smile as he watched her carefully. "My name is Conan. What's yours?"
"Lasheera," the girl said as she watched him. Out of no where, her fist came flying up, hitting him square in the jaw.
"Ouch!" The boy cried out as he rubbed his jaw, coddling it slightly. "What was that for?"
"That's for scaring me into a bloody corner!" The girl exclaimed angrily, her Scottish accent ringing clear as a bell. But it was formal...to formal for someone in this place.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," the boy said as he continued to rub the sting from his jaw. "You've got a good arm on you. Gosh that hurt." He shook his head and watched her for a moment, debating if he wanted to continue the conversation with her. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him. "What are you in here for?"
"I'm not sure," the girl said, her voice softening and her face falling slightly. "I just know that my mother and I were brought here only a week after my father and Angus left," she looked down at her grim covered feet and bit her lip. Was she suppose to keep talking to him? "What about you?
"Something about my father being a spy or something," the boy shrugged. "They found me when I was out playing in the field. My family was out and I was grounded to the house. I had three brothers, two sisters."
"I'm so sorry," the girl's face fell even more, now feeling like a complete jerk for the way she acted. The feeling soon passed though as she reasoned that she was in the right. He had scared her after all.

"Why?" The boy looked at her confused and incredulous. It was actually quiet a comical combination on his thin face, especially with the grim that seemed to marr(sp?) his features. "Looks like you've had it worse than I have," he gave another lopsided smile which only added to the ridiculousness of his expression, making the girl burst into laughter. The poor boy's heart stutter stepped as he listened to her peals of bell like laughter. It sounded like an angel's too him, well...at least if he was to imagine what angels laughter sounded like that would be it.

*blinks* I like it! what is it from????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

The girl's face looked radient when she laughed, even with all the rags and dirt. It was about this time that he realized how short she was. She barely came to his shoulder, if that. He held out his hand to her again, though this time he braced himself to get hit. She took it, a sheepish smile pulling at her lips.
"How old are you Lasheera?" He asked curiously, letting himself relax a little.
"I'm almost eleven. How 'bout you?"
"I'm almost twelve..or I am twelve. I don't know I lost track of days a long time ago," he said with a small grin and rubbed his jaw yet again.
"I'm sorry about that," Lasheera said in referance to the punch she had delt out earlier, yet again dazing him with another peal of laughter.
"It's okay, I'm sure I deserved it," his blue eyes sparkled happily as he watched her. His own small piece of heaven. The girl sat down against one of the slime covered walls with the boy quickly following suit, his hand not leaving hers. By the time dawn came around, he knew almost everything about her and she knew him like the back of her hand. The girl started to doze off, falling asleep on his shoulder. He blinked a few times as he tried to decide what it was he should do. In the end, it only seemed logical to lay his head on hers. It's what his parents did when they fell asleep on the couch, so why couldn't he do it here in this cell? He cautiously let his head drop onto hers, using her as a type of pillow. He relaxed after a while of waiting for her to clock him again, and let out a deep sigh. He couldn't understand what he was feeling at the moment, but he was sure it was only temporary, whatever it was. But as the sun began to rise higher into the sky and the small angelic girl continued to sleep on his shoulder, he realized it wasn't a temporary stirring of feelings. These feelings for her would never fade.

TELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WHAT IS IT FROMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM????????????????/

It's just a small tid bit I have labeled Conan's Dream. It's from a story I started a long time ago, I sort of revised it as I typed it out here. But it's a shifter story, I still have all the pictures of what my charries would look like and what the place looks like that they are imprisoned in and everything.

I LIKIE :3

Good ^.^

^.^

Want to just start this?

i'm so tired, I'm not sure I'll be able to scrounge up a literate response. >.<
you can post your starting post. I'll reply tomorrow.

Lance let out a deep, bored sigh as the bus hurtled down the road. Mr. Conry was driving which ment more than half the kids would be bus sick by the time they got to Thunder Bay. That is, if they didn't die first. Mr. Conry was a little old man who's hearing and eyesight were....quickly disapearing. He was good friends with the football boys though, and that's all Lance cared about. The old man supported their team and even had a Timber Wolf bumper sticker on the back of his bus. Lance wondered if he was going to make it back in time for practice. Judging by the fact that Mr. Willis, one of their teacher chaparons(sp?), was planning on camping, Lance probably wasn't going to make it and coach was going to kill him.

Amorelle yawned, taking a daring chance and resting her head against the cool window of the bus. She popped her head phones in, letting the music drown out the chatter of her peers and winced as the bus swerved, causing her head to whack against the window. Owie. If her headache wasn't bothering her before, it was now.

Lance looked over to see his best friend and star quarterback of the football team, Marcus Arther King. Lance had known him ever since they started football together freshman year, and ever since those boys were inseperable. Mark was making use of his boredum by sliding into the seat next to Amorelle, one of the prettiest girls Lance had ever seen. Saddly though, she was taken by none other than Mark. He always got the girls which honestly sorta sucked. Although he had his...no wait, Lance didn't really have anything. He was sorta just left hanging.

<------------ Mark

Amorelle tilted her head, sparing Mark a glance and smiling to herself. She slipped her hand in his and yawned, wiping a strand of hair from her eyes. "You excited?" She asked mark, knowing he'd been looking forward to practice.

"Of course I'm excited, I get to be with you for a whole weekend," Mark smiled with a wink, giving her hand a quick squeeze before letting go of it and wrapping his arm around her. "Besides, it's just a sport."

That was the difference between Lance and Mark. Mark thought of football as "just a sport." Lance, on the other hand, thought of it as his path to college. It wasn't that he had bad grades or whatever, it was just that he didn't have the money to get there, unlike Mark who had all the money in the world it seemed.

Amorelle laughed, leaning into his arms, enjoying the warmth. "You speak like we wouldn't be hanging out if not for this trip." She shook her head in amusement, knowing they'd be glued to each others side no matter the event.

Mark chuckled and smiled as he looked down at her and gave a small shrug. "Well...we wouldn't have," he said matter of factly. "I was suppose to be in South Carolina, remember? The festival?"

Lance sat staring out the window in pure boredum.