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Re: when my world is dark without the script i know the truth is real.. -- sean terris, 20:27:22 04/15/02 Mon
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Re: that you're merely just a marionette, hanging from your strings of salvation? -- Julian Emberson, 01:33:12 04/16/02 Tue
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He stopped briefly, attention diverted from his book with the faint sound of voices, abruptly stopping and beginning again, as if conversation was being stretched to the limitless boundaries of nothing. His already frowning lips twitched in ire, ire from contemplating whether or not to ignore them completely and go on with his hallway reading, or to take a quick glimpse and then ignore them and walk away.
As always, curiosity got the best of Julian. With listless grace, he drew his gaze up, slipping his index finger in between the pages and bringing both arms down to rest on opposite elbows, eyes wanly looking at the two in front, quite a few meters away. So much for curiosity landing upon something interesting, His mind drawled, a small, invisibly distasteful, smirk on his face. He stood there merely watching them.
He knew who the girl was, for sure. She was the aloof, brunette fifth-year, of his very own house. Quiet in her own way, she always gave an aura that, it seemed so to Julian anyway, was undoubtedly cold. Had he ever begun to care much, he would have done something about it, but the girl had never struck his fancy anyway. The same with any girl in Virlastyn. Too many girls in Virlastyn, I swear, he inwardly sneered upon this in a jocular manner but it was serious in its entirety. The other was Sean Terris, he recalled, a fifth-year from Talontoln. The boy was a star because of his Quidditch abilities, a jock all in all to Julian. He had once observed Terris' persona from afar, even more aloof than the girl, and twice as flippant. Of course, he knew the type.
His smirk widened.
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Re: ((complete repost)) -- Julian Emberson, 01:34:42 04/16/02 Tue
In the quiet of the corridor, Julian's Prada-dressed heels clicked upon the alabaster gloss of the stone floors, black reflecting off the mirror-like quality of the ground. Absorbed in Sartre's Nausea, a book he must have read a thousand times already, his attention wavered infrequently as his steps wandered dreamily off course. Almost always found clothed in something extravagantly classy, it was a different attire for Julian this evening, sort of. Gone were the Varvatos and Canali jackets and sweaters, replaced by something that had no noted brand and was, to say, a bit more flattering on Julian even though it wasn't at all designer. It was wool and dyed a darker shade of sea green, his last name stitched across the middle in ivory. But underneath that he wore the usual sable Brioni turtleneck, also donning black Gaultier jeans to pull off the rest of the look.
He stopped briefly, attention diverted from his book with the faint sound of voices, abruptly stopping and beginning again, as if conversation was being stretched to the limitless boundaries of nothing. His already frowning lips twitched in ire, ire from contemplating whether or not to ignore them completely and go on with his hallway reading, or to take a quick glimpse and then ignore them and walk away.
As always, curiosity got the best of Julian. With listless grace, he drew his gaze up, slipping his index finger in between the pages and bringing both arms down to rest on opposite elbows, eyes wanly looking at the two in front, quite a few meters away. So much for curiosity landing upon something interesting, His mind drawled, a small, invisibly distasteful, smirk on his face. He stood there merely watching them.
He knew who the girl was, for sure. She was the aloof, brunette fifth-year, of his very own house. Quiet in her own way, she always gave an aura that, it seemed so to Julian anyway, was undoubtedly cold. Had he ever begun to care much, he would have done something about it, but the girl had never struck his fancy anyway. The same with any girl in Virlastyn. Too many girls in Virlastyn, I swear, he inwardly sneered upon this in a jocular manner but it was serious in its entirety. The other was Sean Terris, he recalled, a fifth-year from Talontoln. The boy was a star because of his Quidditch abilities, a jock all in all to Julian. He had once observed Terris' persona from afar, even more aloof than the girl, and twice as flippant. Of course, he knew the type.
His smirk widened.
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Although am I not What I seem, I understand.. -- Sora Downey, 10:36:58 04/16/02 Tue
It was strange how someone who used to be so carefree, could now be so.. Different.. But not fully in her case.. She supposedly had a reason.. A reason unknown by any in the school, but herself.. Unless someday she chose to reveal what bothered her and ached her heart, ripping it each day to torment her talented soul.. It did not seem that her heart had bestowed a crush upon him, yet no one could really tell with such a quiet person.. Russet waves fall artistically about her shoulders, gentle ooids gazing through the corridor..
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Re: Matters not, we're all much the same but completely different... -- Julian Emberson, 14:18:45 04/16/02 Tue
A congenial twinkle brightened his eye as her hand flitted up, a wonder sparking if that was a wave or a dismissal. Either way, he would go no further to or fro. Gone was the smirk, replaced with his previously bored look, but invitingly more happy at the most.
Julian didn't wave back, however. He stood his ground, in the same speculating stance, waiting for something to happen where he could observe from where he was. He was unneeded tension. He loved the fact. Thinking of it almost made him laugh.
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Then I'm very Different.. -- Sora Downey, 15:15:27 04/16/02 Tue
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Re: Then I'm very Different.. -- Julian Emberson, 15:32:26 04/16/02 Tue
Julian smiled, a witty malice creeping behind it. His free hand grasped her shoulder, the twinkle in his eye burning his irises almost jade. His brown lifted in a friendly manner, eyes still narrow and holding a sly something to them. The sixth-year didn't know any better, not being who he was. The touch must have sent thousands of lib-waves through her, he supposed, as she had always seemed to hold a faraway composition. He slid a finger under the chocolate mess upon her shoulder, flinging it off behind her in a distant manner, smile fading and leaving a meticulous thin line. He'd learned how to wear emotions on his face, and erasing them in a flash was a skill that came just as quickly.
He eyed her guitar and winked, a triumphantly shit-eating grin nearly smothering his lips. "You really must play for the house sometime. Who knows how many guys will snap out of their dreamworlds and drool all over your pretty little self?"
He smiled knowingly and drew away his arm, heels clapping soundly in a subtly sprightly and jesting rhythm.
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Sometimes you People scare Me.. -- Sora Downey, 15:44:10 04/16/02 Tue
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Re: It was just a joke, Cherie... I am after all, who I am and what I seem to be. -- Julian Emberson, 16:02:27 04/16/02 Tue
He dodged it, expecting as much, as he was already rather far away. He spun around, the grin too much to hold back. It surfaced and turned into a smile, following a shake of his head, bangs brushing against his eyes. He wasn't well-known enough, apparently, because this was the sort of thing he was known for. What he knew he used to his comical advantage. There were just far too many things he found funny that he just had to explore, often at the expense of other people. Which really didn't matter to him. They ought to know he's just a joker by nature, and by no means a whore of the mind.
He turned back 'round, book elevated to a distance easy for him to read from. He continued his hallway reading, wondering if it was a new hater he had made.
Would be rather interesting.
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the shadows creep on all sides.. -- sean terris, 18:52:45 04/16/02 Tue
Redundant shrug is presented from the male as a goodbye is muttered in the path of the fleeing female; his temper sputtering into a transitory burn of lethal realism at the other male’s corrupted sense of comedy, yet no attempt to reply angrily is offered. After all, the female was a meager stranger, not anything extra. He returns to his inactive meandering, a simper established upon his lips as gloom engulfs his powerfully built shape and escorts him into the passageways that will soon convey him to his common room.
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Re: funny, that. -- Julian Emberson, 19:34:13 04/16/02 Tue
He stopped abruptly as soon as the younger male passed him by five feet lenght, back straight and shoulders back, profile nearly poking from behind his shoulder and mask of blonde. The amused expression was rubbed off, something cruel hanging off the tip of his tongue. Had God cursed him with his oh-so-lovely manner of having to be so damn unstoppable?
"Aren't you going to verbally protect your latest snag, Mr. Terris?" Julian brought a hand to mock gasp behind it. "Oops. I didn't mean that!" With a brief laugh, he went on his way, waving back high above his head to Sean as he tucked his book between his hip and his arm.
"Kidding, man. Later."
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the darkness is a fickle friend. -- sean terris, 18:14:27 04/17/02 Wed
Leer descends upon lips as he leisurely revolves, eyeing the masculine in perceptible amuse. It took an immense amount of snide remarks on the incorrect theme to needle this well balanced he, and a spinning of masculine shoulders are presented in retort. “I see that you waited for a bit of a distance to pass between us before you said that to me, Julian. Is that not the sign of cowardice?” He queries, his nature bordering on laughter and unresponsiveness. He chortles lazily. “Later.” He utters and twirls around once more to recommence his initial voyage.
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Re: but it's a comfort from the scalding light. -- Julian Emberson, 21:19:45 04/17/02 Wed
He spun rapidly on his heel to face the now-retreating Talontoln, another annoyingly felicitious grin having bloomed. He tossed his hair back with a tilt of his head, a wicked glint coming about his eyes. He loved repartee. He treated them as ruggedly as he treated games that he so adored. "The least you could have done was find a better excuse for my lateness. It was a good-bye from me," he smiled with cheer, almost eerily. "But it's a lovely excuse for remote corridor conversation. Say, how have you been, Lord Beater Almighty?"
While awaiting the answer, he couldn't help but be distracted. He hadn't had any actual conversations in a while. It was a bit disappointing, but it was by no fault of his own... had he tried off his own accord to reach out and make friends instead of bug anyone who served as a victim, he would probably be having a conversation with someone he knew better. But it was a good replacement, so to say. Maybe Sean Terris isn't a dickhead jock. That was all in hope, though, as from observation no one showed enough intelligence and charisma to attract him. Or maybe he just hadn't been paying enough attention to someone who did, and might have been ignored in hopelessness.
Did it matter anyway? There wasn't much of a chance in a conversation here, was there? He was both haughty and indifferent to some eyes due to his malevolently whimsical ways and wit. He knew that that's what he seemed like. He wanted to be seen that way, after all. And Sean Terris was himself.
Yet, he just couldn't resist the challenge.
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a worthy opponent? -- sean terris, 18:26:48 04/18/02 Thu
The sneer elevates from his lips and his mouth once more twists, causing his visage illustration to portray languid enjoyment. The initial remarks are overlooked as the query is presented, his eyes gleaming with contained mischievousness, his teeth's casing once more altering from a grin to a teasing smirk. “Quite well, actually. Thanks for asking, little grasshopper.” Ah, yet an additional guiltless exposed to his out of the ordinary vocabulary that have perverse significance. His eyes query the other boy’s, his own feelings kept sheltered deep within a cave of his psyche. At any other instance of being unaccompanied he would have cursed at his atypical magnetism toward the similar sexual category, feeling nonstandard and ill at ease although his exterior declares otherwise. “And what have you been up to, Sir Emberson?” He asks, plunging into an elegant yet concise bow, his expression once again unfolding his amusement for this charade. Let’s continue with this entertainment…it saves me from the feared dullness of existence.
Upper limbs traverse over torso and the boy’s structure props offhandedly against a barrier, scrutinizing Julian with his incalculable depths of emotion, waiting for a rejoinder from the unexpectedly attention-grabbing adolescent, sensation of concise affection being nonchalantly thrusted away from his judgment as he unwaveringly concentrates on what the teenager will or will not say, musing over his comeback in inactive, restricted eagerness. Raven locks are carelessly impelled from his eyes by digits, only for the strands to plunge once again in his vision…damn hair.
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Re: i'd say more like a teddy, really. -- Julian Emberson, 19:33:42 04/18/02 Thu
Julian just chuckled. From the queer words to the joking bow, all he did was return it with merriment. With character too hasty in changing ways, Julian calmed into a state of suggestiveness, eyeing him with a jovial look, but something far more than so. It was almost indescribable the way his eyes were swirling in different shades of verdant gleams, nearly luminescent had they been in the dark. A mirror twin of Sean's smirk crossed his face, orbs following in such a fashion it would have almost been visual undressing. What came next was even more irrationally undertoned with unnatural desire.
"Nothing but the hallway and my book, lovely."
It was all in playfulness, even if the sixteen-year-old's look posed otherwise. He made something of himself acting like this. It was almost certain there would be something he could attain later on, no matter how long it took. Some little tidbit, something big, something useless... but something, nonetheless. And he wondered how this would turn out, if anything. He virtually knew next to nothing about this boy but his name and his claim-to-fame, and here was having a conversation, at the very least. Would it contradict his calculated fate for his actions with people?
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i like teddy bears.. -- sean terris, 21:22:26 04/18/02 Thu
His inhalation snares in his esophagus for a meager instant before the boy retrieves his clasp on poised apathy, his eyes roaming over Julian’s structure in a nature related to what the boy was doing to him a moment before. His sniggering might seem enforced to one who comprehended him precisely, which was, in realism, very little, but the chortle might appear genuine enough to foreigners. ’You are a callous person, Julian Emberson. Leave me alone you mean…piece of shit!’ Of course, his thoughts are wicked after his short-lived demonstration of loss of composure because he is not familiarized with loosing his cool to the effortlessness of another, no matter how immediate he was to recover organization of hormones and what not. “The hallway and your book, hmm? I knew you were cheating on me!” He cries out in simulated desolation, his tone undoubtedly informing each individual that he is teasing.
He hasn’t stirred from his inoperative location alongside the wall, yet his form has been in a contraction of distress of muscles, but again, he was swift to finalize leisure and abandon each feeling but his pleasure. “You’re a strange cookie in the cookie jar, did you know that? You’re like, a peanut butter cookie in with the oatmeal’s…or something strange like that.” He announces, his pitch obscure yet level, his eyes iridescent as though he had just let Julian in on a detailed confidential that was not to be made public.
(It's kind of late and your post confused me a bit...x.x...but I think I responded adequetly...hehe...*is insane*)
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Re: i like teddy bears.. -- Julian Emberson, 22:31:41 04/18/02 Thu
Julian's eyes widened, the unexpected, swift change in stature noticeable to someone like him. He had been studying the boy with a tender patronization, just looking for a flaw he could muse to himself he had noticed about him. But with the given comment, something else had happened to the boy, even if only for the brief moment. It was like he had cut through and somehow the ribbon had pieced itself back together and remained tied around the poles, relaxed in the blowing wind. He smiled a bit, yet another carefree shrug. It was a habit. American in every whichway, didn't you know?
"So sue me, doll, Sartre's just far lovelier with words than you are with your... self. But you could always prove me otherwise," Julian winked and childishly grinned. "And as for the cookie comment, maybe I am. I think you are too."
Julian bent down on one knee and set the book down. He looked up, a gleam in those olive oculars, as his sea-green Emberson sweater was pulled over his head, to Sean. It was something simple underneath, but all the while very Julian. The black Brioni turtleneck wasn't skin-tight, yet it clung to him very nicely, smooth silk and nylon stretched over a thin, yet toned, chest. Yes, Julian was slight and tall, but he wasn't left with no endowments. He was just almost girlish, excluding all the fashionably exuberant things he wore. He stood up again, the loose-fitting Gaultiers showing no shapely form of his below the torso. He picked up the book and threw the sweater over his shoulder listlessly, turning with nothing more than a small smile to the other and a slight wave of the hand.
"I'll see you around, Cookie. Maybe us strange peanut butter ones will find ourselves in the same jar again, figuratively speaking."
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expect the unexpected.. -- sean terris, 21:40:12 04/19/02 Fri
Ah, but he is prepared for the boy this time, and while his deeds and dialogue transport inadequate feelings rousing within the mortal, his body bearing and frontage divulge rumors of entire leisure. “Darling, I fear I’m going to have to do worse then sue you…” He trails off into a mystifying stillness, his tone of voice taking on a nearly mocking nature as he urgently hunts for something within him to keep his lips corded close and his eyes sightless to what he doesn’t fancy to perceive. Ah, but that shirt on him caused a nearly invisible tremble of craving flowing down his vertebrae. “Right…maybe we’ll see each other again, my lovely Cheater.” He purrs this, astonished to discover that he had been pining to use the seductive tone on the masculine, just to distinguish how he would counter…it was like they were both analyzing each other, endeavoring to locate frailty. Well, Julian had smacked a homerun with his weak spot…but would Sean find the other male’s?
With a sigh the sturdily constructed figure eliminates himself from the wall and moves in the contradictory course, once more attempting to flee from whatever reprisal that Julian will present. ’I will be ready for you next time, Julian Emberson. Wouldn’t it be nice if I could be normal and find a fancy in a female? But you have caught my eye…perhaps I can do the same to you?’ His opinion are a morsel absurd, if not hectic with his dizzying effort to conceal his emotions. ’I’m sick of hiding out! I want to reveal myself as what I really am…’ Resolving to himself that he is wild, he permits a chortle to getaway from his lips, fingertips indolently combing against the corridor’s barrier as he saunters offhandedly off, his thoughts already lifting him to an elevation comparable to his previous condition before he was knocked into by Sora.
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