Post by Em on Mar 8, 2007 0:58:28 GMT -5
OOC Name: Em
Character Name: Ophelia Austerlitz
Year: Sophomore
Age: 20
Major: Fashion
Sample:
He had managed to get off lightly. The taxi he was sharing was not too bad. The young man beside him was talking on his mobile phone and typing furiously on a lap top perched precariously on his knee. Alabaster looked at him for a moment and then turned back out to the window. He had never seen New York before - it looked nothing like Sydney and that was amazing it itself. People had said that the United States was similar to his home, but it wasn't. Sure, they both spoke the same language, and their culture was more than same, but the buildings. The size of everything. Everything was bigger. There was no trees, beaches, you could hardly see the blue of the sky. He wasn't sure he liked it. Al was one for nature. He liked to see trees and grass now and then - not just concrete. Green was a nice colour.
As much was he hated to admit it, he was worried for Clementine. That bloody girl had ignored him and gone off in a cab with some sleazy old drunk. He had explicitly told her not too - offering his own taxi instead and he would take charge of the smelly, fat man. But, no. She chose to be stubborn, didn't she? Why were women so stubborn? Was there a reason? Probably not. Women didn't need reasons. They just bloody well did what they wanted. For all he knew, she could be getting murdered in that taxi and he wouldn't know it. Murdered or, worse, being hit on. Alabaster hated seeing guys flirt with Clem. He kind of felt she was his responsibility and he had to protect her. There was nothing worse than seeing some greasy guy go up to her and ask her for her number. Plus, Al been wanting to do that for some time.
But that was so beside the point. Well, maybe it wasn't. So what? He liked her. She was nice. She saw him as him and not some fake piece-of-shit rumour that had been circulating for a million years. Clementine Phillips was above all that. She didn't believe what people said about her best friend. But, as was inevitable with many boy/girl friendships, there was to be an element of romance - well, on Alabaster's part anyway. He knew she was too smart to reck a friendship with something as stupid as that. That's why he never tried anything. Even when he was drunk - as much as he wanted to - he never tried anything. He had imagined it, yes, what guy hadn't? But under no circumstances would he ever be so stupid.
Okay, never say never.
And before we jump to conclusions, no, Al did not just see Clem as some kind of sex object. He loved her for who she was. She was a great girl and he probably could not live without her. And, no, he had not just come on the trip to be with her. Our dear Mr. Jones is not that shallow. He does actually have some depth of character (in case you didn't notice). He wasn't all girls, sex and drinking. He had a heart and was actually capable of having (shock horror!) a relationship with a girl without wanting to get into her pants....to an extent. Okay, so the fact of the matter was, he like Clementine as a friend, but still had a slight medium sized rather large crush on her. Happy? Sorted? Good. Back to the story.
He listened to the man's conversation next to him. Something about shares? Stock market? Al never knew anything about that. It was not really his thing - throwing money away for an imaginary share in a company. He'd rather throw his money away on other things. He heard the tazi driver say something in a heavily accented voice. Mexican. Sighing, Al asked him to repeat himself. He hated asking people with accents to say something again. He felt like he was making fun of them by doing that. Still, he had asked all the same and luckily had heard him to second time around.
"Where to?"
"Oh, just..." he looked at the paper card he had been given once arriving at the airport. "Hotel Benjamin, please."
The man in the suit had since gotten out (Al hadn't even noticed) and the taxi took a sharp turn down a sidestreet. Along the street, people could be seen walking dogs and catching a morning coffee from a cafe. Buskers played along the street. From the taxi, Alabaster caught eyes with a young man playing the saxaphone. They smiled at eachother before the car moved on.
It stopped outside a large hotel. It stretched up to an amazing height. Other cabs pulled up next to theres and people got out. By the looks of the people, this was a rather expensive place. He was so caught up in the image that he didn't hear the cab driver speak. Again, to his dislike, he asked the Mexican to repeat himself.
"$25.90"
"Oh, right." Alabaster looked in his wallet. "Shit. I've only got Aussie dollars, mate. Is that okay?"
He heard the driver make a strange noise, something in agreement Alabaster supposed. Reluctantly, he pulled a yellow fifty-dollar note from the wallet (he was unsure of the rate of exchange) and handed it to the driver. The driver nodded in approval and Alabaster opened the door of the cab, asking the driver to pop the boot of the car for him. He walked around the bar of the taxi and pushed the door of the boot up and pulled out his suitcase. It was one of those vintage ones - he loved it - bright red leather with a think silver zipper. All style. He closed the boot and tapped on it for a moment, letting the driver know he was free to go. The car sped off in search of it's next fare.
Alabaster wheeled his case behind him and through the revolving door of the hotel. In the foyer he looked around him. Grand. He spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. He smiled and with his case, walked quietly and undetected up to Clementine. Once he was about a foot behind her, he set his case down and walked closer, almost right behind her. Then, without warning, he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up and spun her around before setting her back down as if none of it had happened. Adjusting his jacket, he smiled widely at her.
"Hello."
Character Name: Ophelia Austerlitz
Year: Sophomore
Age: 20
Major: Fashion
Sample:
He had managed to get off lightly. The taxi he was sharing was not too bad. The young man beside him was talking on his mobile phone and typing furiously on a lap top perched precariously on his knee. Alabaster looked at him for a moment and then turned back out to the window. He had never seen New York before - it looked nothing like Sydney and that was amazing it itself. People had said that the United States was similar to his home, but it wasn't. Sure, they both spoke the same language, and their culture was more than same, but the buildings. The size of everything. Everything was bigger. There was no trees, beaches, you could hardly see the blue of the sky. He wasn't sure he liked it. Al was one for nature. He liked to see trees and grass now and then - not just concrete. Green was a nice colour.
As much was he hated to admit it, he was worried for Clementine. That bloody girl had ignored him and gone off in a cab with some sleazy old drunk. He had explicitly told her not too - offering his own taxi instead and he would take charge of the smelly, fat man. But, no. She chose to be stubborn, didn't she? Why were women so stubborn? Was there a reason? Probably not. Women didn't need reasons. They just bloody well did what they wanted. For all he knew, she could be getting murdered in that taxi and he wouldn't know it. Murdered or, worse, being hit on. Alabaster hated seeing guys flirt with Clem. He kind of felt she was his responsibility and he had to protect her. There was nothing worse than seeing some greasy guy go up to her and ask her for her number. Plus, Al been wanting to do that for some time.
But that was so beside the point. Well, maybe it wasn't. So what? He liked her. She was nice. She saw him as him and not some fake piece-of-shit rumour that had been circulating for a million years. Clementine Phillips was above all that. She didn't believe what people said about her best friend. But, as was inevitable with many boy/girl friendships, there was to be an element of romance - well, on Alabaster's part anyway. He knew she was too smart to reck a friendship with something as stupid as that. That's why he never tried anything. Even when he was drunk - as much as he wanted to - he never tried anything. He had imagined it, yes, what guy hadn't? But under no circumstances would he ever be so stupid.
Okay, never say never.
And before we jump to conclusions, no, Al did not just see Clem as some kind of sex object. He loved her for who she was. She was a great girl and he probably could not live without her. And, no, he had not just come on the trip to be with her. Our dear Mr. Jones is not that shallow. He does actually have some depth of character (in case you didn't notice). He wasn't all girls, sex and drinking. He had a heart and was actually capable of having (shock horror!) a relationship with a girl without wanting to get into her pants....to an extent. Okay, so the fact of the matter was, he like Clementine as a friend, but still had a slight medium sized rather large crush on her. Happy? Sorted? Good. Back to the story.
He listened to the man's conversation next to him. Something about shares? Stock market? Al never knew anything about that. It was not really his thing - throwing money away for an imaginary share in a company. He'd rather throw his money away on other things. He heard the tazi driver say something in a heavily accented voice. Mexican. Sighing, Al asked him to repeat himself. He hated asking people with accents to say something again. He felt like he was making fun of them by doing that. Still, he had asked all the same and luckily had heard him to second time around.
"Where to?"
"Oh, just..." he looked at the paper card he had been given once arriving at the airport. "Hotel Benjamin, please."
The man in the suit had since gotten out (Al hadn't even noticed) and the taxi took a sharp turn down a sidestreet. Along the street, people could be seen walking dogs and catching a morning coffee from a cafe. Buskers played along the street. From the taxi, Alabaster caught eyes with a young man playing the saxaphone. They smiled at eachother before the car moved on.
It stopped outside a large hotel. It stretched up to an amazing height. Other cabs pulled up next to theres and people got out. By the looks of the people, this was a rather expensive place. He was so caught up in the image that he didn't hear the cab driver speak. Again, to his dislike, he asked the Mexican to repeat himself.
"$25.90"
"Oh, right." Alabaster looked in his wallet. "Shit. I've only got Aussie dollars, mate. Is that okay?"
He heard the driver make a strange noise, something in agreement Alabaster supposed. Reluctantly, he pulled a yellow fifty-dollar note from the wallet (he was unsure of the rate of exchange) and handed it to the driver. The driver nodded in approval and Alabaster opened the door of the cab, asking the driver to pop the boot of the car for him. He walked around the bar of the taxi and pushed the door of the boot up and pulled out his suitcase. It was one of those vintage ones - he loved it - bright red leather with a think silver zipper. All style. He closed the boot and tapped on it for a moment, letting the driver know he was free to go. The car sped off in search of it's next fare.
Alabaster wheeled his case behind him and through the revolving door of the hotel. In the foyer he looked around him. Grand. He spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. He smiled and with his case, walked quietly and undetected up to Clementine. Once he was about a foot behind her, he set his case down and walked closer, almost right behind her. Then, without warning, he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up and spun her around before setting her back down as if none of it had happened. Adjusting his jacket, he smiled widely at her.
"Hello."