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Post by Seoras Reinard on Jun 2, 2006 21:58:28 GMT -5
Ticketta, ticketta, ticketta...BING-ksshhht. Chichik, chit, ticket...
The only sound in the blessedly empty room were the sounds of the sporadic plunking of keys on an old-style typewriter. A small water cooler in the corner gurgling of its own accord. And the breathed thoughts of a writer finally making progress. Seoras sat at the desk typing away, his thoughts flowing onto paper for the first time in days. He had been sleeping even less than usual, and the strain had been showing in a lack of ideas for his ongoing stories. But today, in the essentially abandoned newspaper offices, color and twists and personalities were all pouring from his fingertips. He stopped to crack a few knuckles and servey his handiwork.
"Perfect...exactly how it should be...I might even like it tomorrow..." he thought with a smile. He'd had time, much like any other artist, who believed they had done something well when they did it, and then looked back later and realized how bad it was, at least in their eyes.
Seoras twirled the knob to release the paper, placing t carefully atop four other sheets that he had filled from top to bottom in the past hour or so. He slid in a new piece of paper, positioned it, and pushed that doohickey back in place with a PING..."Just what is that thing called?" He glanced over his shoulder at the door, turned back, and began to type once more.
Tick-tachika-tipick...
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Post by Ashton Lee on Jun 2, 2006 22:13:55 GMT -5
Ash wandered in, meaning to just get her jacket that she'd left in there yesterday, then walk but out again. She wasn't the write-ry type or anything - Ash couldn't write for crap! No, yesterday she'd just come in because it was lunch time and she couldn't face the cafeteria. She seen all the people hurrying about in here, and asked if she could just hang out in here til lunch was over. Thankfully a tall girl had said yes. She smiled, letting out a sigh of relief, seeing her favourite black jacket hanging on the back of a chair. Ash grabbed in, turning to make her way back out when she saw Seoras.
"Seoras! Hi," she said to her friend, turning back away from the door. "I can't believe I didn't notcie you, you were so quiet!" She hadn't exactly changed her bright and bubbly personality from when she had been a hottie. And that really annoyed some people. But at least Ash wadsn't a bitch. That she could account for. "I just came in here to get my jacket - but, since when do you write? Never thought you'd eally be the type..." She decided to shut up before anything came out wrong.
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Post by Seoras Reinard on Jun 2, 2006 23:13:13 GMT -5
"Seoras! Hi,"
"Wah!" Seoras jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion into his thoughts. He had been rereading something he'd written as a vein of thought ran dry, so he hadn't even noticed a girl walking in or crossing the room. But he noticed her now; he even recognized her.
"Ashton! Sneaking up on me again...bloody red ninja..." His heart finally slowed down from the initial shock, and he turned his swivel-chair to face her.
"I've always been a writer, but poems are more my style. You know, secret notebook stuff. Today I just had inspiration for a story to write; everything just seemed to fit all at once. My mind making up for the lack of thought recently." He smiled. "And just because I'm a psychotic, angsty, music-gorging, eardrum-blowing gothboy doesn't mean I can't write about the light." Seoras was obviously joking: the only thing he had just said that was true was of his affinity for black. "I've actually been said to have a gift, though I don't know how trustworthy their opinions were...If you want, you can be the judge." He reached behind himself for the small stack of papers he had just added a page to, holding them in his lap and straightening them.
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Post by Ashton Lee on Jun 3, 2006 20:35:39 GMT -5
"Ashton! Sneaking up on me again...bloody red ninja..."
Ashton laughed. "Oh, that's nice," she said sarcastically, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She raised her eyebrows as Seruas talked ... mentally cursing the fact he was more inttelligent than her, by his use of words like 'angsty'. She sighed. Maybe she shopuld take up reading the dictionary. Or something. The thing with Seoras, was that half the time Ash didn't know whther he was telling the truth, or joking.
"I've always been a writer, but poems are more my style. You know, secret notebook stuff. Today I just had inspiration for a story to write; everything just seemed to fit all at once. My mind making up for the lack of thought recently. And just because I'm a psychotic, angsty, music-gorging, eardrum-blowing gothboy doesn't mean I can't write about the light. I've actually been said to have a gift, though I don't know how trustworthy their opinions were...If you want, you can be the judge."
"Righty-o," Ash said, with a nod. "I think I can agree with the lack of thought part; don't think I've used my brain for days. Though I don't quite think I'll start thinknig a lot now .. or whatever," Ashton shrugged, knowing she probably didn't even make sense. "The last think I wrote was ... say, I think it was a shpping list. Two weeks ago." She smirked. "Me being the judge? Ummmm ... okay," Ashton added, holding out her hand for the papaer, not quite sure what to expeect.
(It. Does. Not. Make. Sense. Sorry.)
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Post by Seoras Reinard on Jun 10, 2006 0:05:39 GMT -5
((No, I think I can translate it. I'm fairly fluent in nonsecsicalian.))
"Here," he said, passing her the papers in his hands. "Be warded, it's a fiction story, so anything that I want to happen does happen. And that is only the beginning of the tale, there is so much more to come." He smiled, running the story through his head again. The old man's secrecy as to his identity and the concealment of the 'package' in his arms, the soldiers, and questioning commander, the first encounter in the alleyways, the second encouner by the river. The old man defending the package until he knocked it off into the dark water and it was whisked away by the current, the flashing noise as the soldiers open fire on the weak and wounded collapsed man on the riverbank, and the muffled wail of a child as it was bobbled about on the clear, swirling, moon-painted stream. Seoras sat back in his chair, waiting for her reaction and wondering what she would think. Some people were "prejudice" against fiction stories, but he hoped she wasn't one of them...
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Post by Ashton Lee on Jun 11, 2006 22:43:54 GMT -5
Ashotn smirked, leafing through the paper, stopping to read some bits, skipping through the long paragraphs like she always did, no matter how interesting. Ash wasn't exactly the fondest of reading, and couldn't write at all. Except songs. And poems. Them she had a lot of experience with. You couldn't connect with a story like you could connect with music. The lyrics of a song could really touch you. She raised her eyebrows as she turned the page. Interesting. Ash's sort of stories she liked to read were high school ones, with the bitchy popular girl and hot jock, and a heck of a lot of drama! But still, she found this very interesting as she reached the end. "Mmm ... interesting," Ashton said finally. "Exactly what I expected from you, though. Not to say it isn't good," she added hastily. It was. "Fabulous. Give me the next instalement so I can read my way through life."
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