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Post by Fidel Mantangra on Aug 6, 2010 19:39:04 GMT -4
 Fidel slid the window open and peaked out at the gray sky. It wasn't raining for the time being. A welcome change. He stepped back into his room and cracked his neck. No one was about.. thank goodness. For, if they were, they would definitely try to stop him. For the past two days Fidel had been totally bed-bound. Sick, tired, and cold from an incredible stupid move that he hardly remembered anymore. Sure, he was scared when he decided to sleep up on the roof, but was it really just plain dumb.
And now? After so little stimulation and so much boredom. That and he hadn't really been around anyone. He had to do something. Something dangerous. His booze stash had dissapeared so that was not an option. He needed something a little different. Perhaps go on a raccoon rampage? Or.. Well the idea he came up with sounded like fun. And with all of the spy movies he had watched whist stuck in bed, he was more than ready to believe that he could indeed pull it off. How hard could it be anyway? He had decided to try and climb out of the window. It was only, what? 15 feet off the ground? What could happen?
He stepped to the window again and looked out. There was a pipe right nearby, if he could get a good grip on that, then he could shimmy his way safely to the ground. Also, if he could figure this out he would be able to get in and out of the doom without using the front door. That alone seemed like a pretty sweet deal. He saw no problem with it.
He reached out and grabbed the pipe, which was bolted into the wall. He wrapped his fingers around it, followed by his other hand. With a sigh to steady any nerves, he tightened and stepped out, swinging to brace his feet against the side. So far so good. He began easing himself, down, everything was a little bit slippery. Nothing was going wrong though, so he decided to go a little bit faster.
That was a mistake.
His hand collided with one of the bolts. He flinched, and that was all it took. His grip slipped on the pipe and he went plummeting towards the ground. His mistake was trying to turn and right himself in midair. He was no cat. And it was a short drop. He hit the ground, his hat flying off his head with the force of it, and only barely hearing a crack in the back of his mind. His vision flashed from black to color , everything blurred. He was in shock. His breathing didn't seem to be working, whenever it came, it came in short little gasps. Gradually he became aware of a rapidly increasing pain located in his right arm. He sat up, it was beginning to become unbearable.
Fifteen seconds later Fidel began to scream in pain. – –– ––– –––– ––– –– – Word count: 500 Tagg'd: No one yet Notes: ANYONE IS WELCOME TO JOIN outfit; Black shirt, jeans, and a gray hat TITLE CREDIT; Flashpoint season 2 episode 10 |
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Post by Braxton Pearce on Aug 7, 2010 0:48:15 GMT -4
When someone is walking to their dorm this late at night, all things are expected to be fairly silent? Is it right to expect that silence is what will greet someone this late at night? Was he wrong to assume that he'd have an easy way into the dorm and crawling up the stairs and to his room? Apparently so.
Braxton shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he walked, bracing himself against the wind that shot through him. Why was it suddenly so cold? He grumbled softly, the sound rumbling about his chest like a far off thunderstorm. His eyes watched the ground as he walked, his hood pulled tightly around his head. The wind roared in his ears and that was all he heard for a long while. It wasn't until he heard the sound of someone screaming that he finally looked up. Raising an eyebrow, he expected the screaming to come to a hault. He assumed it was someone causing noise and being obnoxious because they could and they'd think it would be humorous. But there was something a bit different in this scream and his eyes narrowed again.
When the screams continued, Braxton picked up his pace and changed his corse. He veered to the right and moved quickly, his eyes shifting about the concret in search of the source of the noise. When his dark eyes fell over a squirming figure, Braxton rushed forward. He looked about, searching for anyone that knew how to handle something like this, but apparently everyone thought the same as he had.
Dropping to the side of the unknown person, he looked him over quickly for any signs of external bleeding. So far nothing. "Can you please stop screaming? What hurts? What happened? Can you tell me your name?" he said, his voice calm. At the moment, he could find nothing out of place with the screaming person until he continued his search of the other and his eyes fell across the right arm that was bent in a direction that it was never meant to go. He winced slightly and his stomach turned with the memories of having a doctor set a bone. What had this kid done to break an arm like that?
He scanned the parking lot quickly, looking for anything that might be of help. So far, there was nothing. He grumbled to himself again, the thunderstorm returning to his chest. Why him? Why did he have to show up right now? Was he really this unlucky? Or lucky. It all depended on how one looked at it.
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dear fidel,
i wrote 438 letters to you. i listened to green day sing the song wake me up when september ends when i wrote this one. please write me back.
ps. horrible post. sorry about that. |
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Post by Fidel Mantangra on Aug 7, 2010 13:45:41 GMT -4
Fidel didn't realize he was screaming. It was sort of like he was swimming through some thick kind of fluid. Trapped inside himself as he watched the dark outward world. To this withdrawn person, pain didn't seem present. It was more a world of shock and fear. Then the pain began to worm it's way back in. Growing and expanding until it pushed him back into the real world, complete with all the suffering.
He tried to pinpoint the pain. It was coming from his shoulder, mostly and from near his hand. He tried to swallow the screams, muffling them under his hand. Did he really feel something wet on his cheek? Oh god.. was he crying? Is that was he had been reduced to? It couldn't be that bad.. right?
He felt someone nearby, followed seconds later by a flood of questions which the teen only half understood. He swallowed another scream, reducing it to a pained grunt. It turned into a growl quickly. He suddenly found himself furious. He scrambled backwards as quickly as he could manage generating pain from the juncture of his neck and shoulder, as well and his wrist.
His dark eyes glared out from under damp curly hair. His mouth curled into a grimace and then a fearsome sort of snarl. His teeth bared in defense just like an animal, or rather, a raccoon. He wouldn't have been able to explain his anger, but it looked like he was a absolutely furious that (gods forbid) someone might actually care that he fell out a window! His breath came out a his, in between what had become shallow groans, "Get.. the hell.. away from me.."
Keeping his distance, he tried his best to force himself to his feet, holding his arm at a strict 90 degree angle and close to his body. His hand was in a fist in order to keep the wrist from wiggling about. But collarbone was considerably more of an issue. Ever small movement he took, every tiny inch, sent a jolt of pain all throughout his body. His screaming had gotten itself under control, replaced now by hot tears dripping from either side of his face. Fidel kept his teeth bared in a grimace, and tried to stand up off the damp ground. He turned his back on the person with the dep and calm voice and stumbled in a totally random, but opposite direction. He was still dazed and had no sense of balance, so naturally he slipped on the wet grass and fell forward. landing with a wave of pain from his right arm and another strangled scream. – –– ––– –––– ––– –– – Word count: 452 Tagg'd: Braxton... (tbd) Notes: ANYONE IS STILL WELCOME TO JOIN. outfit; Black shirt, jeans, and a gray hat TITLE CREDIT; Flashpoint season 2 episode 10 |
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Post by Braxton Pearce on Aug 7, 2010 21:21:21 GMT -4
 x  x  'cause you know it's over.
growing colder.Braxton's eyebrow rose as the other boy scrambled to get away as though Braxton was an ax murderer. He then narrowed his eyes and grunted. Was this kid really going to act like he would be able to take care of himself? Fine. As far as Braxton was concerned, the kid could go off and cry and try to fix something that would take a doctor or someone trained. Standing slowly, he watched the other boy in curiosity. Who was he? And why did he suddenly move away? Why do I even give two shits? was the only question on his own mind. He rolled his eyes at the dramatics and noticed the glistening of tears running down the boy's face. During any other situation, Braxton would not have laughed because he understood the anguish of breaking a bone. In this case, however, he cracked a smirk.
Watching the anger pulsing from the other boy, Braxton couldn't surpress the urge to laugh at him. The kid was going to act tough and like he didn't need anyone. Although it was very true that this kid wouldn't need help getting himself to the emergency room, was it really such a bad thing to have someone want to help? Now Braxton was simply being a hypocrit. Would he allow someone to help him? Possibly. But most probably not. However, he wouldn't turn the pain into a blind fury and throw a hissy fit over someone coming by because he was screaming.
His brows furrowed as the boy demanded that he stay away. Braxton shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. Go off and cry like a little bitch in your corner. But how do you plan on getting to the hospital? It's too far to walk. You obviously can't drive. And whatever it is that you shift into, well, that just won't work either, now will it?" he said, knowing that he had made his point and pretty much won that battle. In his mind, there was no fighting over something that truly wasn't worth it in the least bit. At the moment, Braxton found no reason to be fighting with the other boy and so he wouldn't. If the kid felt as though he didn't need anyone's help, then that was just fine. Braxton would continue on up to his room and go back to sleep without so much as a second thought about this kid.
As the other boy attempted to stand, Braxton stood where he was and folded his arms across his chest. Was this kid for real? He rolled his eyes once again at the dramatics and watched the boy fall into the grass and let loose another howl of pain. He sighed heavily and walked over to the boy, crouching down beside him. He waited for the screaming to subside and he cracked a cocky grin. "So.. Still don't want my help?" he said, sarcasm leaking throughout his voice as his eyebrow rose once more. Braxton couldn't help himself and he let out a chuckle of disbelief. First week here and already he was making so many friends. i need something.
leave me next to nothing. ------------------ dear Fidel,
i wrote 539 letters to you. i listened to Breaking Benjamin sing the song Next to Nothing when i wrote this one. please write me back.
ps. -[/center][/font] |
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Post by Dymetri Alexander on Aug 10, 2010 0:47:53 GMT -4
Where Is Your God Now ?! [/font][/size]   DYMETRI"DYMI"ALEXANDER[/CENTER] “Dymetri, you’re stupid, why are you out during a freaking hurricane.” he thought to himself, his blond, brown and pink hair plastered around his face and head. He gently bit his bottom lip as a roaring wave of wind smacked him onto his back. ”God dammit” He muttered, pulling himself back to his feet, only to trip on the chains that had latched around his feet. He sighed, he never knew why he wore tripp pants, but, he did. It took him a few moments of struggle to unhook the chains from his feet. It usually would of taken him seconds but., with the rain pelting his eyes, made it hard to see. Dymetri tugged the black hat rougher over his hair, to keep it from flying everywhere. It had suddenly gotten worse at the moment, and he zipped up his black and gray striped jacket over he shirt. He was soaking and it was very uncomfortable. A soaking binding vest was not a good thing. He grunted slightly and tipped his head down. You said you liked the rain pfft. Then there it was, a sound that broke through the roaring wind and pelting rain, a scream. This caused Dymetri to jump. Some one was hurt and it did not sound good. He quickly followed where the sound had came from. After a few turns around the corner he came to a boy on the ground and another boy standing over him. As Dymetri neared closer, the boy on the ground seemed familiar. Way to strangely familiar. Where did he know the boy from? That’s right! The boy on the chat box, Fidel was his name right. The sound of the two’s conversation got louder as he got closer and it did not seem Fidel liked this boy. For being so short and scrawny, he sure had strength. He shoved the older boy to the side and collapsed to the ground, next to Fidel. “Oh god, Fidel, what happened?” he asked looking over the boy. Dymetri then jumped to conclusions, what if this other boy had hurt Fidel. Dymetri stood to his feet and turned on his heels, staring directly at the boy, his tone dropping from worried to anger. “What the fuck did you do to him?!” he snarled at Braxton. He hated it when other people hurt other people physically. Especially when his friends got hurt. Sure, this was the first time they had met in person but, he was still his friend in a way. ------------------
Omg! So, I created this post for Fidel and Braxtonand it's 422words. Sorry, it sucks, is all I have to say. |
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Post by Fidel Mantangra on Aug 10, 2010 13:27:44 GMT -4
His nose crinkled up in disgust. Okay, fair enough, he had him there. Or perhaps he didn't? Fidel couldn't be bothered to figure it out. His brain felt like it was turning into soup. Yeah, the hospital was too far away for him to make it, and it wasn't just like he could walk up to his room and forget about it. Even if he did do that, someone would notice something was wrong with him. It was difficult to get things past your roommates. Especially Jayden. Oh man, Jay was going to be pissed.
He would've liked to have argued against this boy, but as angry as he was, he was right. Undeniably so. Fidel bared his teeth " I may be a bitch but you're an ass, and I can always get walked.." the retort was sharp but definitely carried a note of utter defeat. Drawing a deep breath, his turned his head to look at the boy. "Fine. Whatever, now can you stop acting like a smart ass and help me get up?' Fidel had too much pride to just give up and ask for help. Eventually this would leave to getting socked on the face, and then where would he be? This wasn't a very great situation.
Suddenly the older boy was gonna and replaced by a younger face, Fidel flinched. He had come down a bit fast, he might have accidentally landed on him. He squinted up in surprise,"Fidel? H-how did you know my name?" Sure, the kid looked familiar but he didn't know from where he had seen that face. But before he could figure it out the person has on his feet and yelling at the boy that Fidel figured would end up snapping his neck.
With a groan, he shifted and lifted his foot, poking the new person in the back of the knee. "Hush kid. Your voice is hurting my arm." He tried to sit up, giving a strangled moan as he did so. Every movement to the upper body seemed unbearable. He pinned his hurt arm to just below his ribcage. "Alright.. he didn't do anything. I just.." he winced, "I fell out of the window up there. It was kind of an accident." With a deep breath he held his tongue for a few moments before finally saying, "And he didn't do nothing. He was just about to, uh, help me up?" He froced a smile at Braxton, "Right?" – –– ––– –––– ––– –– – Word count: 446 Tagg'd: Braxton, Dymetri Notes: Thanks for joining you two <3 outfit; Black shirt, jeans, and a gray hat TITLE CREDIT; Flashpoint season 2 episode 10 |
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