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Post by Memai on Aug 10, 2011 11:38:45 GMT -5
Hey guys :> This is a handy little thread I thought up; it's basically a place where everyone can put up their drabbles that they've written about Bully or their Bully RP OC ♥
A drabble is essentially a short story. Typically, it's only about a paragraph long or even just 100 words, but I use the very loose term for drabble; just a very short one-shot ♥ Sort of like a summarized story.
The reason?
I don't know how often any of us gets to properly write down a response for any RP, and I know it can be hard, especially when other commitments like school and life get in the way.
Since drabbles are quick to write, I thought it'd be nice to put a thread where you guys can submit one tiny thing a day. Not only will this place more activity on the board, but this will definitely warm up your writing muscles as well as be the place to put down quick bouts of inspired writing that may not fit into an RP setting :>
GO GO GO <3
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Aug 10, 2011 11:40:15 GMT -5
EXCELLENT <3 MInd if I write little things in the form of letters that don't fit into Grievances?
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Post by Memai on Aug 10, 2011 19:31:45 GMT -5
That would be more than fine, lover <3333
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Aug 17, 2011 18:57:35 GMT -5
((Here I go!))
"Oh, don't worry yourself too much about it, sweetie! Just don't act any different to normal, you'll make friends in no time."
Janey's warm, motherly voice wrapped Eileen up cosily and almost made her feel like Bullworth would be alright. That was, of course, until she actually entered the front gate of the school. Aged eleven years, Eileen was pudgy, awkward and, in possibly the worst timing in history, was now sporting metal braces on her teeth accompanied by headgear that wrapped annoyingly round her neck. The confident stride she had began with became more and more stooped with every insult thrown at her. Darting her way into lessons, she hoped that maybe the taunting would stop once the novelty wore off.
Needless to say, the taunting did not stop, especially since Eileen showed no "cool" redeeming traits, only a love for physics and science fiction. After just one week of "tin man", "train tracks" and "space invader", Eileen sat tucked just inside the door of the library in floods of noisy tears, brought on by an especially nasty prank involving her headgear and spitballs. With her hands over her eyes, Eileen heard footsteps approaching - assuming it was the librarian stomping over to ask her if she could lower the volume of her bawling, she looked up. Instead, it was a boy around her age in a green vest with half-moon glasses as thick as milk-bottle glass. He somehow gave the impression of being gangly despite his diminuitive height. He cleared his throat.
"Excuse me, my compadres and I are trying to study. Could you please cry a little quieter?" He sounded irritated. Eileen sniffled and nodded, unable to speak for nervousness. Unexpectedly, he bent down and scrutinsed her, startling her somewhat.
"Say, was it you who answered the row of questions in math yesterday?" Again, Eileen nodded. It was her favoured subject, and the fulfilment of getting the correct answers was worth the screwed up piece of paper with "DILLWEED" scribbled on it that she recieved to the back of the head. The boy nodded, though looked unimpressed. "Hm. Well I'll need more proof of your academic prowess, but until I get that, you may join me and my fellow countrymen in the library. Don't think you're allowed in just like that though!" He strutted back into the library where the librarian hollered to nobody in particular to be quiet.
For the first time since she joined Bullworth, Eileen felt... accepted. Of course, the boy's putdowns made her a little anxious, but the possibility of actually making some friends sent excitement through her head. Giddily, she stood up, and followed the boy to take him up on his offer.
((Not that great as it's late and I need sleep, but a little insight on Eileen's first forays into the nerd clique :3 Hope you like! Also I think I messed up Earnest wat))
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Post by Memai on Aug 18, 2011 3:59:07 GMT -5
(( Oh fuck me Beth that was amazing ;___; I cannot hate Eileen. I just can't. There's no way anyone anywhere could hate her because she is an amazing character and you're just brilliant!
Saving this spot for a drabble I'll be writing up :>))
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Aug 18, 2011 11:51:09 GMT -5
((Awwww, thank you so much Mems! You are so good to me ;; Looking forward to reading your drabble c: ))
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Post by Memai on Aug 21, 2011 22:44:35 GMT -5
(( Aah what rubbish :< I typed out like half of my post and then all of a sudden it disappeared ugh what ;___; Okay, trying this again! ))
Chaplin thought he had it figured all out, at least he thought he did. He still wondered about the typical teenage worries regarding his new home; will he fit in? Will people accept him? Will he find any new friends that'll last him? What about girls? How was the school? What about a sports team, did they have one of those?
The family had moved during the last leg of summer vacation, and the seasonal (and therefore, colder) weather of New England had finally gotten to the Hawaiian native. His wardrobe consisted entirely of thin cotton shirts and flip flops, so when he walked through the gates of Bullworth for the very first time, he wore an embarrassing, oversized and old-fashioned jacket, paired neatly with a pair of impossibly itchy socks.
His mom had promised to buy the family more appropriate (and less itchy) attire for their new home, but with more important priorities such as moving house and setting up shop, clothes were on the bottom of his parents' list. Chaplin wouldn't have it; cool and charming Chap wearing sweaters only the 1980's could love? That's heresy!
So not only did the clothes bother him (at least for the first few weeks, he did get a nicer looking sweater eventually), but so did the people. Chaplin was used to not only the much warmer weather, but also the warmer personalities of others. Unfortunately, at an old-money institution like Bullworth, he practically drowned in the scent of pretension and importance, more so that the preps were giving him dirty looks as he followed the tiny, nervous headboy around for a tour.
'This guy's the head?' Chaplin thought, crinkling his nose and looking rather incredulous at the smaller boy leading him. He really wasn't going to hurt the guy, so he was completely baffled when he would hear soft whispers of, "Please don't hurt me, I'm just doing my job! Why is this semester full of big, scary jerks?"
The school felt like a castle, not only in his size, but also in it's architectural style; gargoyles on the high walls, brick roads and thick stone walls. He felt like he was on the set of a magical wizard movie, just... without the magic.
He noticed the school enforced wearing uniforms. He had no problems with this initially, his old school required wearing uniforms as well, but it was only a very simple colored polo shirt and a pair of sensible pants. But Bullworth was another story all together; pressed, crisp shirts with stuffy looking sweater vests? Proper pants and polished shoes? Ugh, this is a nightmare!
He hated dressing up, he hated ties that strangled you and painful shoes and itchy shocks and shirts you could barely move in. Now he had to wear this everyday!
The tour concluded with the headboy dropping Chaplin off at the front of the principal's office. He hadn't been assigned a dorm, but he had gone through the paper work for the classes he wanted to take and was waiting patiently for Ms. Danvers to finish up the letters he was to give to his parents.
Chaplin waited patiently, looking around the room. It was furnished with large comfy seats and gold gilded frames; he couldn't help but notice some trophies on display and wondered vaguely if a basketball team was available. The room was quiet, save for the tapping of the keyboards on Ms. Danvers' desk, but she'd shoot him angry glances when the crinkle of the plastic that covered his uniform got too loud.
He didn't like waiting, or at least not moving for long periods of time, he was restless and didn't want to wait in some stupid office for someone to just type out something they should've done earlier. But he had to put up with it, his mom was an alumni of the school, and she seemed so proud getting the acceptance letter, he'd hate to put a bad mark on his name now.
Just when he thought the wait was going to be excruciatingly boring, someone had taken a seat right next to him on the fancy sofa he was on. He looked over to the stranger and was greeted by a rather lively redhead, "Hi! You're new?"
"Oh uhh... yeah." Chap still had to get rid of his 'accent', "How'zit?"
"My name's Christy ♥"
"Ms. Martin, please keep your voice down, you know Dr. Crabblesnitch doesn't like interruptions."
Christy cracked an embarrassed smile, "Sorry! Sorry!" She looked over to Chaplin with, smile still on, and spoke in a loud whisper, "What's your name?"
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Aug 22, 2011 2:32:13 GMT -5
((Huzzah! I log on and see this sexy piece of text, oh my :'D I like it very much! So nice to see Chaplin's initiation process :'3
Also so nice to see a teenager having normal teenage annoyances and worries and not being a special snowflake that doesn't fit in but shhhhh ;D))
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Post by Memai on Aug 22, 2011 5:02:51 GMT -5
(( I don't think Chap knows how to be a special snowflake XD I honestly can't imagine him to be much of a whiner, he's too sunny and jumpy for something like that <3
And ohgosh thank you muchly Beth ;; ))
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Post by Memai on Sept 16, 2011 21:31:14 GMT -5
Oh my god, I just found this little thing I wrote up in my notebook. A friend and I were ranting about how writers forget that 'showing' and not 'telling' is important. It spawned from this fic we read and how the writer constantly wrote, "So-and-so was confused. So and so was mad. So and so was in love! So and so felt sad." All rather blah, right? Said friend gave me a writing prompt, "Confusion". So here it goes:
Chaplin's heart began to race and his palms were turning clammy. Combo A was his usual order and it came with those delicious side orders (all for an extra 99 cents!), but after scrounging up his change he realized he only had enough for the much smaller Combo B. Though something about the smaller, usually less appetizing dish, looked so much more delicious. He wasn't sure if it was because he was broke, or hungry or both. His eyes darted from point to point on the brightly colored backlit menu behind the cashier, maybe he could try something new? His mind was racing now, he hated making decisions like this! Why couldn't someone just tell him what to order? Where was Will when he needed him? The jock began to chew on his finger as a way to calm his anxiety down a little, he had to make a decision quick, and the impatient stares from the pimply cashier wasn't helping none.
Then suddenly, an epiphany.
"Combo C?"
:'D
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Post by violentlittlesister on Sept 17, 2011 18:48:29 GMT -5
[It's like in Enchanted Arms where you pick one of three meals; and the main character is having this improvising thing going on where he has an idea of what he wants
but hell, you pick it. You're the player, so... xD ]
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Sept 19, 2011 13:17:55 GMT -5
Hahaha, oh Chaplin, why so funny and cute? :'D
I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE AND IT WILL BE ON SOON
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Post by Memai on Dec 15, 2011 4:49:54 GMT -5
Stevie’s heart damned near leapt out of his chest when he saw a familiar swarm of grays and pinstripes walk through the gates of Bullworth Academy.
It was part of Gentlemen’s 9th little publicity stunts; to assure the gossip-mongering folks of the outside world that the treatments really do work, that these once troubled young men (and women) are well on their way to becoming proper members of functioning society. From time to time, in a show of good faith and reassurance, some of the best students would be sent out to the neighboring and rivaling schools.
Stevie didn’t care, he just thought of how awesome Will and his lackeys looked, standing upright and just as deadpan as him. Oh God, he wished he could be as secret agent-y as Will one day; to be feared by the population but revered by authority figures, this man was just too, too good.
Will stood between his lackeys; to his right was a blonde boy, his long hair just barely scraped by the rigid dress code Gentlemen’s 9th enforced. To his left was a boy who looked like he came out of a technicolor movie, with his bright red hair and brilliant blue eyes. They looked far more built than Mr. Silverberg himself, Stevie rightly assumed those two were his bodyguards. Behind Will were two other students; a girl with long, long hair, almost like chocolate, Stevie thought, clutching tightly to books and binders, beside her was a boy who looked Asian, somewhat. He too, carried binders and paper, nodding at everything Will had said.
“Oh wow,” the small bully thought to himself, “He even gets his own secretaries!”
Most of the other students scurried away, the didn’t want to have first-hand proof on whether or not those rumors were true or fake; Will looked like he had the capacity to pull off anything if he had set him mind (and influence) to it.
Plus, there were four others with him.
Sure, they all looked like pale, sickly children, just released from bed rest from their padded cells, but a will of a person was so much stronger than physical strength anyway. Didn’t those pills do something like make them feel numb or make them crazy of something?
So the Bullworth student body cleared the path for the entourage of the gray, pinstriped visitors. Some gave curious glances, some of the children nearly cried when some of the friendlier of Will’s group waved at them.
Stevie never knew anyone with that sort of influence on the other kids. He had heard of this school, along with the rumors surrounding it. How G9 was really a school, it was really an insane asylum for the offspring of the rich and powerful.
To most students, that just made a visit from Will and his cohorts all the more terrifying, who knew what these drug-addled crazies were capable of?
To Stevie though, that just made him *that* much cooler.
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Post by professorpineapple on Dec 15, 2011 20:42:45 GMT -5
((asdkhda ;w; That is so perfectly Stevie, oh my gosh <33))
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Post by violentlittlesister on Dec 17, 2011 12:19:01 GMT -5
Kisaragi pulled her head to her knees; and her mother's voice boomed, resonating from downstairs to the vent in her room.
"You know that you cannot go to parties without telling me, Logan; you have a family to think about!"
"It was an office party; there's a difference."
"There is no difference! You went, without my consent, or even telling me - we thought something happened to you--"
"Says who I needed your consent, Rima?" Her father sighed, and his voice grew quite. Kisaragi could barely hear him now.
She didn't have to; nor did she want to, and Kisaragi knelt up from the fetal position. Flipping the lock from her large bedroom window, she pulled it up, and hooked a leg out of the window - and then bent herself low, before pulling her whole self out.
Climbing down from the quite low space she settled herself on, Kisaragi fell on her knees onto her yard below. She bit her lower lip, pulling her small house's open, and then closed as she slipped between it.
There really was no escaping her parents and their trivial arguments. She still liked to think there was some escape, though.
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