Post by Hanna Squalor on Apr 24, 2007 18:46:08 GMT -5
Yes, another RP made for myself and my Jenny. It is going to be based off of a flash abck in another RP we already have going. It's really long and if you can read all that then feel free to take a character. I warn you that Jenny and myself post A LOT and 99% of people that try and join us get left in the dust.
Here's the entire flashback this will start with:
School assembly in the auditorium.Snooze fest. She sat sideways in her chair with her legs hanging over the arm unto the isle. The Fancy new auditorium that the drama teacher had gotten the school to refinish it was as goo d as a real theater. Esme and the rest of the drama geeks sat in the front rows of the theater.
Kids from all classes were still arriving but they had already been there. Esme's school uniform was never on right her knee socks weren't regulation navy blue, they were blue and green argyle. The skirt had been dramatically shorted and her blouse buttons were undone with a lace camisole showing from underneath. She and her friends were laughing and playing in their natural habitat. She sucked on a lollipop, sending a grin over at the drama teacher who sat on stage with a page of notes.
He looked at her but didn't smile back, he just watched her. One of the male drama students was tickling her and one of her non-regulation black leather shoes fell off. When she tried to sit up and get it one of the sweater vest nerds was holding it.
"He..here...you go.......Esme...." said the nerd.
Esme didn't say anything she just stuck out her foot. He laughed nervously and put it on her foot carefully."Thanks uh..."
"Jerome." he smiled.
"Yeah. That's it." she said and laid back and opened her mouth for her friend to place a candy in it. She was like a queen in her throne room.
Esmé had always loved the fact that she looked good in her uniform. You could tell the type of person by how they looked in a uniform, Esmé always thought. Kit had always worn an exactly knee-length skirt, excatly knee length socks, exactly right white blouse, exactly perfect, laced-black shoes, and almost always the regulation sticky-out frizzy hair.
With her no-sweater-vest rule in mind, Esmé turned away from Jerome in an attempt to send him the hint that he could leave and go back to whatever he was doing before. He took no such hint, just filled a chair beside her with the same goofy smile and flushed cheeks as he'd always had.
'....Hi,' she said hesitantly.
'She means go away,' one of her friends replied, followed by laughter from the other students and a chuckle from the teacher on the stage.
Jerome blushed brighter and turned away from her, motioning for a friend of his to sit in his place so that he didn't have to sit with her. She was sorry for embarassing him, almost.
The friend had his own girl to chase and left Jerome there. He looked at Esme. He was almost afraid to see something he wasn't supposed to. With her legs draped the way they were her leg was touching his knee and he was sure that if he looked he would be able to see up her skirt.
He loosened his tie and set down his bag carefully. He pulled out his laptop and let it on his lap. He was working on a code and he was getting close to finishing it. Kit took the seat next to him. "Hi Jerome. Oh hey, Esme." she greeted. Esme made a noise to notify that she had heard her but didn't care. Kit didn't mind.
The lights dimmed in the isles and on stage. All the drama kids laughed. "Vinny, bring up the House spots!" yelled one of Esme's friends. A few of them snickered. Esme made them all laugh by saying "I told O that as soon as you add tormentor bars Vinny can't tell a frennel from a rondell." Everyone laughed. No one got it around them because it was it was hidden in theater terms.
Jerome laughed forcefully and they all stopped and looked at him. "L-l-l-lighting...that's a go-ood one." he stuttered.
Olaf stood at the podium now, lights full on him.
For the entire duration of what Jerome assumed was a speech about the theatre, it was impossible to concentrate. Jerome had folded the laptop across his knee, and Esmé was mouthing something at Olaf through glossed pink lips, ankle rolling and right leg swinging because it looked cute on her. Jerome spent the entire time watching her. Half-watching her, half purposefully not doing so.
She got called up to the stage at some point, and Jerome wished he had known why. The teacher seemed to touch her more than he did with other students, purposefully taking her by her waist to get to a certain area on the stage. She never stopped smiling.
Now, because it's course selection week, I'm going to show you why theater is the class to pick. Not research, or codes." Olaf said to all the students before turning to his students and saying something Jerome couldn't hear.
Olaf returned to the stand and asked for a place. Kit yelled "A bowling alley!" Olaf took the suggestion. He then asked for a situation.
Jerome found his courage and yelled "Someone's got a rash from the bowling shoes." several people laughed. Olaf left the stage with the stand and let his students go to work. They transformed the two suggestions into comic genious. Jerome found himself laughing out loud as a bunch of bowling friends were now examining Esme's stocking feet.
She was pretending to itch her feet when one of the group made a joke about her feet smelling bad. It was in character and the audience laughed but it wasn't his place to make the jokes. Esme was the ring leader and she gave him the death glare for a second before she was right back to her feet.
The scene closed and they all bowed. Esme got an extra one and Olaf ushers them all off stage and hit her bum on the way down the stage left stairs.
Esme knew many people wouldn't chose the course, but she enjoyed the activity all the same-- she adored attention, for most reasons.
'Is he allowed to do that?' Jerome whispered to Kit, refferring to the techer's almost innappropriate action.
Kit laughed. 'Don't get jealous it isn't like you,' she said, putting an arm around him. 'And, why not? Nobody's going to fire him for it.'
The production was over, and while most students returned to work or outside studying, Esmé wandered off to the stage, grabbing the wrist of Olaf when everyone was outside. Jerome, much against most of his sensible mind, stayed at the back of the stage, seeing them through slits of the curtains.
The teacher picked her up and set her on a riser. She giggled like she normally did and then he went to a switch board and brought up a pin spot on her. She was isolated in the light and he came back to her."Those socks aren't school dress code, miss." he informed peeling them off and letting her shoes hit the floor by his feet with a clunk.
Jerome's mouth gaped. Surely THAT was against the rules. And right there on the stage too. His hands rested on her knees and Jerome struggled not to throw up.
Olaf pulled her down by her hands, pushing her shoes and socks across to the side. She bent down to kiss him, and it was all Jerome could do to ignore her skirt raised on one side, Olaf's had somewhere underneath it.
Jerome guiltily looked down. Even though this wasn't his fault, he felt just as bad for watching it without their knowledge.
'I'm free later on,' he said, fiddling with the collar on her blouse, moving down to a button.
She shook her head a little. 'No,' she said, patting his shoulder. 'I've got some ridiculous paper to do,' she groaned. 'I haven't got time.'
'I'll help.'
'No use,' she said. 'Come on, only people who couldn't do codes teach theatre.'
'Not true!' he said. 'I was good at everything.'
'Yeah, right.'
Jerome started to try and leave but his laptop's battery power low alarm went off and altered the teacher. He moved quickly but not quickly enough. Soon O peered out of the curtain.
Jerome tripped and fell. He was in the space between the stage and the first row of seats but out of Olaf's sight as long as he stayed down.
Esme tried to look out from her perch on the piece of set. She was sitting on the riser that was painted like a log. O motioned to her to fix her outfit and she quickly re buttoned and straightened.
She did as she was told before she scurried forward to meet him at the front of the stage.
'Who's there?' she asked him quietly. He shrugged. 'It sounded like an alarm. A mobile alarm, a clock alarm, a battery alarm--'
Esmé wasn't stupid--she never had been, even when she'd sat in a mathematic coding lesson once and felt so inferior she almost waned to curl up under the desk-- and she knew one person with a machine on them during the presentation.
'Jerome?' she called out quietly. Olaf looked at her like she was mad. She ignored it. 'Jerome?' she called again, sweetly.
She mouthed the word "hide" to her teacher who tucked himself in behind the curtains to watch. "Goodbye professor O! See you in drama class!" she called to him in a cherry voice. She jumped off the stage and landed by Jerome.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking at him on the floor.
"Why aren't you wearing shoes?" he asked.
"I got a rip in my sock. I was going to get some new ones out of the wardrobe room." Esme lied. 'Were you waiting around to meet me?" she asked, as if she was flirting but really she was preforming for bonus marks
Jerome's tongue practically swelled up. She was talking to him now? That was a little sudden. She cocked her head to one side and smiled sweetly.
Jerome could only think about what he'd discovered. His mouth hung open a little, eyes scanning the stage.
Again, Esmé knew what she was doing. She pretended that she realized something. 'Oh!' she giggled. 'You must have seen the performance!'
Jerme didn't answer, just looked over at her curiously. She looked away, trying to blush before she realized it would probably be impossible under all her make-up.
'I can't imagine what you must think of me,' she laughed 'I'm not really dating the theatre studies teacher, Jerome.' Hope sprung in his eyes, as well as relief. 'We were rehearsing for our latest play.'
Jerome exhaled after a long time of not doing so. He smiled, relieved at not having to keep that secret.
Only ten years later would he ever doubt what she'd said was true.
That said. I'm going to be Esme and Jenny had been playing Jerome so she has first dibs on him and Olaf if she wants them.
Here's the entire flashback this will start with:
School assembly in the auditorium.Snooze fest. She sat sideways in her chair with her legs hanging over the arm unto the isle. The Fancy new auditorium that the drama teacher had gotten the school to refinish it was as goo d as a real theater. Esme and the rest of the drama geeks sat in the front rows of the theater.
Kids from all classes were still arriving but they had already been there. Esme's school uniform was never on right her knee socks weren't regulation navy blue, they were blue and green argyle. The skirt had been dramatically shorted and her blouse buttons were undone with a lace camisole showing from underneath. She and her friends were laughing and playing in their natural habitat. She sucked on a lollipop, sending a grin over at the drama teacher who sat on stage with a page of notes.
He looked at her but didn't smile back, he just watched her. One of the male drama students was tickling her and one of her non-regulation black leather shoes fell off. When she tried to sit up and get it one of the sweater vest nerds was holding it.
"He..here...you go.......Esme...." said the nerd.
Esme didn't say anything she just stuck out her foot. He laughed nervously and put it on her foot carefully."Thanks uh..."
"Jerome." he smiled.
"Yeah. That's it." she said and laid back and opened her mouth for her friend to place a candy in it. She was like a queen in her throne room.
Esmé had always loved the fact that she looked good in her uniform. You could tell the type of person by how they looked in a uniform, Esmé always thought. Kit had always worn an exactly knee-length skirt, excatly knee length socks, exactly right white blouse, exactly perfect, laced-black shoes, and almost always the regulation sticky-out frizzy hair.
With her no-sweater-vest rule in mind, Esmé turned away from Jerome in an attempt to send him the hint that he could leave and go back to whatever he was doing before. He took no such hint, just filled a chair beside her with the same goofy smile and flushed cheeks as he'd always had.
'....Hi,' she said hesitantly.
'She means go away,' one of her friends replied, followed by laughter from the other students and a chuckle from the teacher on the stage.
Jerome blushed brighter and turned away from her, motioning for a friend of his to sit in his place so that he didn't have to sit with her. She was sorry for embarassing him, almost.
The friend had his own girl to chase and left Jerome there. He looked at Esme. He was almost afraid to see something he wasn't supposed to. With her legs draped the way they were her leg was touching his knee and he was sure that if he looked he would be able to see up her skirt.
He loosened his tie and set down his bag carefully. He pulled out his laptop and let it on his lap. He was working on a code and he was getting close to finishing it. Kit took the seat next to him. "Hi Jerome. Oh hey, Esme." she greeted. Esme made a noise to notify that she had heard her but didn't care. Kit didn't mind.
The lights dimmed in the isles and on stage. All the drama kids laughed. "Vinny, bring up the House spots!" yelled one of Esme's friends. A few of them snickered. Esme made them all laugh by saying "I told O that as soon as you add tormentor bars Vinny can't tell a frennel from a rondell." Everyone laughed. No one got it around them because it was it was hidden in theater terms.
Jerome laughed forcefully and they all stopped and looked at him. "L-l-l-lighting...that's a go-ood one." he stuttered.
Olaf stood at the podium now, lights full on him.
For the entire duration of what Jerome assumed was a speech about the theatre, it was impossible to concentrate. Jerome had folded the laptop across his knee, and Esmé was mouthing something at Olaf through glossed pink lips, ankle rolling and right leg swinging because it looked cute on her. Jerome spent the entire time watching her. Half-watching her, half purposefully not doing so.
She got called up to the stage at some point, and Jerome wished he had known why. The teacher seemed to touch her more than he did with other students, purposefully taking her by her waist to get to a certain area on the stage. She never stopped smiling.
Now, because it's course selection week, I'm going to show you why theater is the class to pick. Not research, or codes." Olaf said to all the students before turning to his students and saying something Jerome couldn't hear.
Olaf returned to the stand and asked for a place. Kit yelled "A bowling alley!" Olaf took the suggestion. He then asked for a situation.
Jerome found his courage and yelled "Someone's got a rash from the bowling shoes." several people laughed. Olaf left the stage with the stand and let his students go to work. They transformed the two suggestions into comic genious. Jerome found himself laughing out loud as a bunch of bowling friends were now examining Esme's stocking feet.
She was pretending to itch her feet when one of the group made a joke about her feet smelling bad. It was in character and the audience laughed but it wasn't his place to make the jokes. Esme was the ring leader and she gave him the death glare for a second before she was right back to her feet.
The scene closed and they all bowed. Esme got an extra one and Olaf ushers them all off stage and hit her bum on the way down the stage left stairs.
Esme knew many people wouldn't chose the course, but she enjoyed the activity all the same-- she adored attention, for most reasons.
'Is he allowed to do that?' Jerome whispered to Kit, refferring to the techer's almost innappropriate action.
Kit laughed. 'Don't get jealous it isn't like you,' she said, putting an arm around him. 'And, why not? Nobody's going to fire him for it.'
The production was over, and while most students returned to work or outside studying, Esmé wandered off to the stage, grabbing the wrist of Olaf when everyone was outside. Jerome, much against most of his sensible mind, stayed at the back of the stage, seeing them through slits of the curtains.
The teacher picked her up and set her on a riser. She giggled like she normally did and then he went to a switch board and brought up a pin spot on her. She was isolated in the light and he came back to her."Those socks aren't school dress code, miss." he informed peeling them off and letting her shoes hit the floor by his feet with a clunk.
Jerome's mouth gaped. Surely THAT was against the rules. And right there on the stage too. His hands rested on her knees and Jerome struggled not to throw up.
Olaf pulled her down by her hands, pushing her shoes and socks across to the side. She bent down to kiss him, and it was all Jerome could do to ignore her skirt raised on one side, Olaf's had somewhere underneath it.
Jerome guiltily looked down. Even though this wasn't his fault, he felt just as bad for watching it without their knowledge.
'I'm free later on,' he said, fiddling with the collar on her blouse, moving down to a button.
She shook her head a little. 'No,' she said, patting his shoulder. 'I've got some ridiculous paper to do,' she groaned. 'I haven't got time.'
'I'll help.'
'No use,' she said. 'Come on, only people who couldn't do codes teach theatre.'
'Not true!' he said. 'I was good at everything.'
'Yeah, right.'
Jerome started to try and leave but his laptop's battery power low alarm went off and altered the teacher. He moved quickly but not quickly enough. Soon O peered out of the curtain.
Jerome tripped and fell. He was in the space between the stage and the first row of seats but out of Olaf's sight as long as he stayed down.
Esme tried to look out from her perch on the piece of set. She was sitting on the riser that was painted like a log. O motioned to her to fix her outfit and she quickly re buttoned and straightened.
She did as she was told before she scurried forward to meet him at the front of the stage.
'Who's there?' she asked him quietly. He shrugged. 'It sounded like an alarm. A mobile alarm, a clock alarm, a battery alarm--'
Esmé wasn't stupid--she never had been, even when she'd sat in a mathematic coding lesson once and felt so inferior she almost waned to curl up under the desk-- and she knew one person with a machine on them during the presentation.
'Jerome?' she called out quietly. Olaf looked at her like she was mad. She ignored it. 'Jerome?' she called again, sweetly.
She mouthed the word "hide" to her teacher who tucked himself in behind the curtains to watch. "Goodbye professor O! See you in drama class!" she called to him in a cherry voice. She jumped off the stage and landed by Jerome.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking at him on the floor.
"Why aren't you wearing shoes?" he asked.
"I got a rip in my sock. I was going to get some new ones out of the wardrobe room." Esme lied. 'Were you waiting around to meet me?" she asked, as if she was flirting but really she was preforming for bonus marks
Jerome's tongue practically swelled up. She was talking to him now? That was a little sudden. She cocked her head to one side and smiled sweetly.
Jerome could only think about what he'd discovered. His mouth hung open a little, eyes scanning the stage.
Again, Esmé knew what she was doing. She pretended that she realized something. 'Oh!' she giggled. 'You must have seen the performance!'
Jerme didn't answer, just looked over at her curiously. She looked away, trying to blush before she realized it would probably be impossible under all her make-up.
'I can't imagine what you must think of me,' she laughed 'I'm not really dating the theatre studies teacher, Jerome.' Hope sprung in his eyes, as well as relief. 'We were rehearsing for our latest play.'
Jerome exhaled after a long time of not doing so. He smiled, relieved at not having to keep that secret.
Only ten years later would he ever doubt what she'd said was true.
That said. I'm going to be Esme and Jenny had been playing Jerome so she has first dibs on him and Olaf if she wants them.