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Post by ツ PEZZY on Dec 26, 2009 0:44:23 GMT -5
“But it's only 4:50, ma'am! The main desk says the café closes at five!” “I'm sorry, but it's the manager's orders. Dunno why he's tellin' y'all to leave now.” She sighed. “Fine, I'll go as soon as I finish my mocha.” The woman raised a brow. “I have two minutes and counting.” The waitress left her table, defeated.
Wonderful. It's only Sunday and so far my day's just, just- Sylvie eyed a piece of squished, cruddy, green jell-o on the floor. ...yeah, like that.
She looked at the clock on the far wall, just above the grey kitchen doors. One minute to go...
Putting down her only half-full plastic cup she got up gingerly from her seat, dusting any specks of food off her shorts that might have made their way onto her lap. She gathered up her hair, messing with it as it was put into a high ponytail. The remaining drops of mocha within her cup were tossed into a recycling bin, along with the plastic itself. Sylvie left the café, strolling down a little dirt path that wound about a few bushes and flower beds still in bloom. The soft breeze sent her hair off to one side, looping around itself playfully. Her blouse rippled each time it came and went.
...So serene...so peaceful...
SO BORING!
“What's there to do, now that closing time's come...?”
She kept walking, hoping that someone from the academy would bump into her for some excitement. Perhaps she'd invite them to go running with her in the early morning as she always did. Maybe.
“Oh, one, two, three, four, tell me that you love me more... Sleepless, long nights, that is what my youth was for... Old teenage hopes... Are alive at your door... Left you with nothing... But they want some more...”
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Post by darcwings on Dec 27, 2009 0:20:07 GMT -5
Virgil heard someone singing something beautiful. He had been looking for attractive hopefuls and might have found one. He followed the sound of the song to a beautiful girl. She looks good. I wonder if she has a boyfriend. He found the source of the music and approached the girl.
"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but hear you. I think you sound beautiful. My name is Virgil, Virgil Do'Urrden. I was just walking around. Would you like for me to walk with you?" Virgil put on his best smile and looked into the girl's eyes.
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Post by ツ PEZZY on Dec 29, 2009 13:48:25 GMT -5
One minute she was singing and walking, the next a rather tall, gentle-looking, blondie-boy made beguiling introductions. "O-oh. Hi." Was all little Sylvie could mutter. She smiled when he complimented her singing. “Aw, thanks. I'm not as good as Feist, though.” She shrugged, whatever said there was completely true.
Sylvia arched a brow when he introduced himself. Virgil Do'Urrden, huh? It struck her as quite original. She craved originality in people; it was always interesting to her, so she smiled.
“A walk with me? she said rather smally. Normally, guys didn't talk to her (much less notice her). “It's just my height!” she always thought. Apparently it was no problem with this “Virgil” guy.
“Sure! Why not? Oh, and my name's Sylvia, by the way. Sylvia Lopez.”
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Post by darcwings on Dec 29, 2009 15:02:16 GMT -5
~And maybe it's not my weekend~ ~But it's gonna be my year~ "Even if you say that your singing isn't as good as this 'Feist' person, I believe that your's is the most beautiful voice I have heard since arriving at Brookshire." Virgil said as his voice started to shift to his italian accent. He struggled to keep an american accent at all times. Virgil walked very happily with his new friend. "I hope that you don't mind my saying this, but you are absolutely beautiful. I try to find beauty in all things, but looking is very difficult when I am standing next to the most gorgeous thing I have seen in my many experiences." Virgil moved some of his hair out of his eyes and into his black fedora. The metal fleur de lis on his fedora shone brightly as they passed street lights. He carried his guitar case, which had his spear in it, on his back much like a musician. "Well Sylvia, I am enjoying this walk quite a lot. How would you like a cup of coffee or tea? My treat. For walking with me, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. That happens to me too much." Virgil held out his hand to Sylvia with a big smile on his face. Notes:Wish I would make it longer. Lyrics: Weightless by All Time Low Outfit: Black Blazer, Black pinstripe dress shirt, Black fedora with a steel fleur de lis on it's brim, white slacks, black Converse all-stars low tops.(too lazy to find all that)
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Post by ツ PEZZY on Dec 31, 2009 1:11:20 GMT -5
Aw, now ain't that cute...
Now, she wasn't thinking "Straight out of TEEN Magazine" cute, she was thinking puppy dog cute. The benign type. While Virgil's mind was locked onto going through with things like a bullet shot at its highest kick, Sylvie's was being asymmetrical. Backwards-ish. That “beep, beep, beep” pickup-truck kinda backwards. Slow-go-on-the-yo-gos. Yeah.
Mmhmm, that's Leslie Feist. Canada, bay-bee! She was having a fine time, not so bored now at all. Sylvie gazed down the street; interesting that all the stones in the roadwork were of a different size and shape. Usually if they were cut from the same quarry they would have been of uniform color and volume. We must be near the older side of Keystone... she mused. Her ears picked up fragments of what Virgil was saying. “Beautiful? Oh, thank you!”You're going a little “Speedy Gonzalez” there Virgil... Quite true in her mind. She didn't believe in those “fast-assed whore relationships.” Another bit of her reaction to the melee of flattering comments told her to be glad that he was complimenting her, as she was hardly outgoing enough to talk to guys freely every hour, on the hour (like some hoes she knew).
COFFEE!?!? WHERE!?!? “Hm? Coffee? Tea? That would legit make my day!” Seriously. In complete seriousness, she was hardly fazed by just one cup of coffee, er, mocha. Two to three tall cups brings the level of happiness/hyperactivity/joy up a peg or two. A word to the wise and experienced: Never give her more than four.
As soon as he took up her hand, she was a little on the shifty side. It was...just how she was. Picky. Picky. PICKY.
Some side of her uh, “inner conscience” was frowning. “...Uh, but you know that the Keystone Café is closed, right?”
She didn't dare bother to mention that she just came from there. It would ruin an opportunity to get her hands on more of that precious, precious caffeine.
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