dragonqueen

Laurie hangs at the back of the mob, an anxious and slightly frightened expression on her face. Again she whisphers "Oh my god..." What did Jaquie ever do to anyone? What did she do?! Oh my god, Jaquie...why? Why? What the hell is going on here? We're nice, smart, normal kids, and we flock to the scent of blood, like sharks! Arielle's accusation shocks Laurie. It was so outrageous Laurie instinctively denied it. How could Arielle have seen anything? She was in the locker room the whole time! Thrown off balance by the incidents, Laurie speaks. Arielle's answer makes sense though, and she falls silent, her face flushed. She hates it when she's wrong so easily... Still, Laurie isn't quite convinced yet. She's rather surprised at how quickly everyone turns on Rich. Good Lord, we've known each other all our lives, and now we're accusing everybody left and right.... When Arielle starts crying, Laurie feels rather sad herself, but tries to shake it away quickly. Stop it, she tells herself severly. What the hell do you have to cry about? Nothing happened to you! You're such a loser. Briefly Laurie slips into one of her daydreams, but she yanks herself out of it and lectures herself sharply. Paying attention to reality again, she becomes aware of Eric speaking tactlessly. Shooting him a glare of contempt, she wonders how people can be so irritating and insensitive. Just like her sister... Laurie takes a step back when Walter attacks Rich. It's totally unexpected to her, and she cringes, embarassed for Walter. Retreating completely from the group, she leans against the wall and thinks. So many people affected...Chandler, Jaquie was his friend, wasn't she?, Arielle, apparently Wally...Laurie wishes she was brave enough to offer sympathy or comfort, or at least talk to them...God, you're such a wimp. Turning her thoughts from her own patheticness, Laurie thinks about Arielle's accusation. She wouldn't say something like that unless she believed it...I can't believe Rich accused of her of being delusional... Laurie's sister is on medication for her issues, and automatically turns Laurie against Rich. Every time someone acts like a jerk, they're the bully...stupid, one time isn't "every time". Still, where did witholding accusation get you last time? Nowhere. OOC: Vote for Gnarlitch/Richard

Laurie is slightly shocked when Matthew is unmasked. She gasps softly, and, more just moving her lips than speaking, whisphers, "Oh my god." I never really thought it was him...he was just a jerk. Laurie's thoughts are mildly troubled after the surprising shock. Matthew was kind of a hypocrite Christian, wasn't he...oh God, I hope I'm not like that...I try not to be, but it's hard... Wrapped up in her thoughts, she walks dazedly, and not very fast. Reaching her locker, Laurie dismisses questions of religion from her mind. She doesn't have time for that right now, during school. She takes her time putting her stuff in her locker. Slamming it shut, she takes the outside route to gym, reveling in the nice weather. Laurie dawdles as much as possible, in no great hurry to get to gym. Out of all her despised classes, she hates gym the most. She has next to zero athletic ability, and no desire to participate. Even if she did, it often involves partners and things, and Laurie's not brave enough to find one. Sometimes, someone asks her if she wants to play, when she watches, but Laurie says no. She knows they pity her, and do it just to be nice, and she doesn't need their pity. Laurie strolls into the locker room just as the bell rings and drops her stuff down. Her motions are languid with tiredness and she takes her time changing too. When she's ready, Laurie sits down in a corner and waits. She used to be terribly selfconcious about how awkard and clumsy she was in gym, but after years of undergoing the torture of gym class, she was conditioned, or used to it, and she didn't care anymore. For lack of anything better to do for a minute or two, Laurie idly observes the other laughing, chit-chatting girls. Her gaze passes over the disgustingly preppy cheerleader clique, and their conversation is amazingly awful, as usual. Ignoring it, she turns her thoughts inward. This whole bullying problem seems to have rather knit the class together. It's the one thing that affects them all. It's not the bullying itself, precisely, it's the end result of hospilization. This is new to us, in our sheltered, pampered little lives. People are moving outside of their cliques, and talking to people they never talked to before because of it. It'll be interesting, Laurie thinks, to see what comes out of it all. Even after it's over, it'll still be one expierience we all shared. Again, the situation reminds her of one of her books. Daydreaming, she envisions their world after all the bullies are caught...she shakes herself out of it. That is so cheesy, she tells herself. You're a hopeless romantic. Around Laurie, people begin to move. Belatedly, Laurie remembers wanting to talk to Mara, but by now her nerve has worn down, and she only keeps a half-hearted eye out for her. Out of the locker room, she loiters behind the other girls, not wanting to be first in the gym.

Laurie stays in her seat, watching. Unable to - and not really wanting to - help overhearing conversations surrounding her, she files them all away in her mind. It's interesting to see what everyone comes up with. She smiles slightly to herself. The suspicions are really flying now. It's good everyone's off Chandler now...after that note how could they believe he still did it? Hmm...Matthew's being kind of obnoxious. It's amazing how quick everybody is to defend themselves and suspect those around them. Actually it's kind of scary... Though Laurie might naturally want to suspect Matthew because of his attitude, but on the other hand, she's loath to suspect anyone that into Christianity, as she herself is an active member of her church's youth group. For now, she won't point any fingers at him. You shouldn't accuse somebody just because they're annoying, she scolds herself. After all, what real evidence do you have to base it on? Tiffany's voice floats Laurie's way. Listening, Laurie winces at the cheerleader's stupidity. She's still positive Tiffany doesn't have the brains to think, let alone beat someone up. How does Arielle stand her? She seems like a nice, sensible girl...maybe she feels sorry for Tiffany. Frowning, Laurie thinks over her choice. Mara did seem like the most likely suspect, but maybe she could defend herself. Having nothing better to do, Laurie decides to go find Mara and ask her. Getting up, she stands awkardly and tries to see if Mara is in the room.

When the bell rings, Laurie takes her time gathering her stuff, and leaves the class last. She hears snatches of conversation as she walks, and turns it over in her mind. Bina? Why do they think it's her? She can barely speak English! Chandler...Laurie knows it easily could have been Chandler, but she's disinclined to suspect someone who pays even the slightest attention to her. It's liable to be her only social interaction the entire day. Reluctantly, she can't help but suspect Jacquie. She seems to have the temper for it. But it just doesn't seem likely to Laurie. Quickly, Laurie runs through the list of people in her head. Maybe that strange techie character? Eric? He was rather obnoxious. Laurie doesn't know much about him, though. Dismissing several names as possible suspects, Laurie orients on one. Mara. The school reporter. Wouldn't it make a perfect story for that newspaper of hers? Yes, Laurie's sure. She's got a sort of feeling about it, a conviction. Nodding firmly to herself, she swerves sudddenly and presses herself against the wall, narrowly avoiding running into someone. You've got to pay attention, she tells herself severely... OOC: A vote for Vanessa - Mara

Laurie's eyes jump to Arielle when she calls. Nodding, she takes the paper gratefully and flashes Arielle a quick smile of thanks. Listening to the teacher with half an ear, she reviews the paper speedily. Feeling more comfortable now that she can follow the thread of the class, she settles down and listens to the teacher talk. She keeps her eyes to the front, though. Being grateful to someone has always vaguely awkard for her. It seemed to Laurie to be another matter in which someone might be judging her. The paper is handed out and Laurie sighs. She really doesn't feel like taking a quiz right now. Looking down at the pop quiz placed before her, Laurie knows she'll get another mediocre grade on this one. The general information is familiar enough; she just kind of missed the details. Still, the grade will be good enough, like always. When the teacher leaves, Laurie hardly notices. She's wracking her brains for the answer which she can't ever remember knowing. When the buzzer sounds, she looks up, welcoming the end to fruitless thinking. Listening to the announcement, she's not too worried. The thrill of danger is slightly exciting, since nothing ever really happens in Laurie's world. And being careful means nothing more than sticking closer to the wall than usual, if that's possible. But in the back of her mind, she has a vague sense of unease. Nothing like this has ever happened so close to home before. Hearing the teacher announce that the bully is probably someone in the class, Laurie's eyes widen. It's like a scene out of one of her books. The threats still seem sort of half real, though. After all, Laurie thinks, when has anything like this ever happened anywhere near me? It's hard to imagine it. Glancing around the room, Laurie sees her classmates doing the same, wondering which one's the bully. Tiffany's questions catch her ear, and she listens incredulously. How stupid can you get? she thinks. Well, at least we know she's obviously not the bully. Laurie suppresses a small laugh at the thought of Tiffany being a bully.

Jerked out of her daze, Laurie yelps when Chandler startles her. Rather embarassed, she shakes her hair foward to hide her face and stares straight ahead, pretending the event never happened, as she usually does when she is teased or embarassed. She suppresses a sheepish grin, and focuses on her desk. Laurie is gladly relieved when the teacher's attention shifts to Chandler. Relaxing, she calms her breathing and leans back a little. Picking up her pencil, her doodling is uninspired. Homeroom won't last much longer, she tells herself. It isn't worth picking up a book. Her gaze flits around the room, observing her class mates. She watches them covertly, wondering what their life looks like from the inside.

When the teacher appears, Laurie reluctantly closes her book and sighs. Blinking tiredly, she considers whether it would be wise to sleep through this class. She was up late reading last night, like she usually was. Deciding she'd better stay awake to absorb at least a little info, Laurie pulls out a sheet of paper and starts drawing. She's found that drawing helps her stay awake and listening to the teacher with one ear, which is better than no ears. Laurie's pencil stops moving as she yawns, and she can't help closing her eyes. I've got a few minutes before class really gets going, she tells herself. Besides, it's good to sleep a bit. It'll give me energy for later. Shifting, she folds her arms and puts her head down. When she drifts off her fingers relax, and the pencil slips. Class starts, and Laurie jerks awake a few minutes later. Trying to look like she knows what's going on, she glances at her neighbor's desk to see what they're doing. Pretending to listen attentively to the teacher, she tries to look like she didn't just wake up

hey...what class is first period going to be?

"Like a forgotten god's breath" - super cool line. Neat poem. Big focus on the wind. What did you mean with that? Kind of gets a feeling across, but it's hard to put a name to...sorry if I'm vaguely incoherent, I'm drifting a little right now. By the way, everything you write is great, even if I don't get it. Always has the perfect rythym and sound and stuff. It's good.

Laurie moves through the hallway at an uneven pace full of spurts and pauses of movement, trying to keep as far from people as possible. The hallways were terror for her. She had an unreasonable fear of being caught in the middle of a group and ending up where she didn't belong. At the back of her mind, she assumed someone would think she was trying to fit in where she didn't, and since she herself hated people like that, it was a paranoid fear of hers. Quickly Laurie darts to the relative safety of her locker. Spinning the lock a few times first, she does her combination, but it doesn't work. Trying not to be too hurried and hasty, she forces herself to do it slow, and her locker opens. Immediatly Laurie springs foward to catch the pile of books ready to slide out. One hand holding the pile, she manages to get her jacket off and her backpack in the locker. Shoving the stuff in the locker, Laurie slams the locker shut before it has time to fall out. Laurie stumbles back into the main flow, and soon she's in homeroom. She walks straight to her seat and sits down. Slouching back in her chair, she plunges her nose into a book. Every now and then she glances up over the top of the book, to observe the people around her. She spots the cheerleader and wrinkles her nose. Laurie has an ingrained hate for cheerleaders, and Tiffany, in her opinion, justifies it completely. Laurie seems to herself to be an island, shelled from the rest of the homeroom. The laughter and conversation is a dull roar of background noise, barely noticeable. The people sitting around her talk past her, and that's the way Laurie likes it. She sits and reads, in the same seat every day. If she always sits there, no one can accuse her of trying to fit where she's not wanted. No one can bother her. She's just doing what she's supposed to. That's the way Laurie thinks. Laurie's eyes flit around the room, resting for a moment here and there. Her hair shields her eyes, so she watches from behind it, just like always. She watches the boys and girls, and marvels at the ease with which they converse and socialize. She could talk, she knows, and maybe even think of something to say, and hold a fine conversation, but why bother? Staying silent is so much easier.

Umm...who wants to be friends?

Don't have any problems with someone playing a creepy guy or the Christian kid...on that note, Laurie is relatively active within her church youthgroup, but she never talks to anybody about it or Christianity or stuff like that.

Oh! I haven't played any of these in a while, but I would love to play this one, now that I have more spare time... I'll play an extremely quiet girl named Laurie Vayes. She loves to read, draw, write, and fiddle around with computers. She has two younger siblings, a brother and a sister. Her sister's on medication because she's a bit psycho. She can be relatively quick to get in a verbal sparring match, especially with a prep. She hates preps, and her sister. Last year she died her hair bright blue, and after that a series of blue or purple highlights. Currently her hair is blond(dyed), and cut to about shoulder length, angled in the front. She's tall, with blue eyes. Strangely enough, she always tries out for the play and attends every rehearsal even if she doesn't have any lines(she started out as an extra in sixth grade). Actually, Laurie used to talk to people. A couple years back, though, she stopped. She does have some friends, just not a lot, and she's not exactly a conversationalist. She really gets into group projects though. She plays the double bass in the school orchestra, and she's good at it. Unbeknownst to most, she also plays the bass guitar. Incidentally, she's pretty smart...that's plenty. If I think of more I'll add it. Basically, Laurie is your typical shy girl who's scared of people with some quirks no one knows about. P.S. Sorry if that's more than you ever wanted to know about my character...she's based off myself and named after my mother. Probably why I can write so much about her...anyways, enough rambling.

Not sure whether she should remain in the cart or go outside, Loni settles for peering out. When she sees the rabbit, though, she immediatly opts for being with company. These sorts of things are much more alarming when one is alone. Scrambling out of the cart, Loni trembles behind Carl and Canid. "What is it?" she whispers. As they watch, the humongous rabbit slowly opens first one eye and then the other. Both gigantic eyes fix upon the party. Loni freezes like a deer in the headlights. Thoughts run through her head a mile a minute. Is it dangerous? How'd it get so big? Surely a rabbit has no reason to attack! What happens now? Next to her, Carl fidgets nervously, tossing his head. The rabbit blinks sleepily. Possibly it is just as unsure of these travelers as they are of it. "Maybe we should just go away and leave it alone," Loni suggests tenatively in a voice barely audible.

Loni slouches against the seat and mumbles, "Uh...maybe later. All wolves talk, then?" Loni has begun to loosen up a little bit. She's not sure why she hits it off with some people, and can barely manage to get a word out to others, but it happens. In her opinion, the situation has improved considerably. It's always better to be with friendly people, and the more the merrier. Sure, she still has basically no clue what's going on, but that will change. In the meantime, she's learning new things. Loni has a philosphy that one should know as much interesting stuff as possible.

OOC: Sorry! Loni shrieks when Carl takes off, but the noise is covered by the rattling of the carriage. She wedges herself as tightly as possible into the cornor and covers her head with her arms. Somehow she survives the brief run without any serious injuries. Loni's used to various bruises though; at home she was always bumping into things. In the stillness left by the halting of the carriage, Loni hears strains of a conversation outside. Being as quiet as she can, she edges closer to the door and listens. Occasional noises of the wood interrupt, though, and she can't make out much. When the wolf appears in the carriage, Loni immediatly scoots back into her cornor. The aroma of the dead bird drifts back, and she wrinkles her nose. It's even worse than dead fish!, she thinks. Loni tells the wolf her name without lifting her head; her answer is somewhat muffled. Adverse to speaking anymore than she has to, Loni simply shakes her head in answer to the wolf's next inquiry. She is relieved to hear they have a fixed destination now, and relaxs somewhat. Somehow it seems calmer and more normal with the wolf joining them. Loni knows this is irrational, and tells herself so, but still. She is so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost doesn't hear the wolf ask about food. Her head snaps up and Loni says "What? Um, I don't think so, unless there's more chocolate pudding under the driver's seat." The wolf cocks her head quizically. "I don't believe I've ever had chocolate pudding. Is it good?" "Oh yes, very." Loni remembers the times they had it at home. It was always considered a special treat, and they only had it on holidays...the rest of the time it was fish. Loni's smile fades as she remembers the fish. Quickly, before she has time to lose her courage, she asks "What are you called?" The wolf notes the girl seems much calmer now, and concludes this must be a good think. "Canid," she tells Loni. "Oh." Caught up in the momentum of her first question, Loni asks another. It's probably got an obvious or sensitive answer, and she knows she'll wish she hadn't asked it, but Loni asks anyway. "Umm...why do you and Carl talk? I mean, none of the cats talked at home, or the fish..." Loni trails off, and falls silent. Her cheeks are slightly pink, as she knows she bungled the question, as she always does. The wooden floor of the carriage grows fascinating, and Loni inspects it single-mindedly.

Dragonqueen wanders up to sign. Reading it, her eyes light up. Stars reflect faintly in them. Snatching the pen from any invisible moochers, she prints her name on the list. With an effort, she makes it somewhat legible. Standing back, she notes how much prettier it looks than her usual scrawl. Skipping away, she thinks about the play and hopes it's a good one... ************* Plays are so much fun...I don't really have a defined character yet, but this would be a good chance to make one...is that okay?

Leaning over to look under the seat, Loni tumbles foward when the carriage jolts to a stop. Regaining her balance, Loni finds the food without a great deal of difficulty. Feeding Carl is another matter. Loni's inexpierience slows her down again, and by the time the nosebag is attached, a good deal of oats are littering the ground. Blushing furiously at her ineptness, Loni retreats into the carriage with a basin of chocolate pudding. Rather than trying to balance herself and the bowl on the seat, Loni plants herself on the floor of the carriage and hunches over the bowl. Just as everything is going smoothly, the carriage wobbles greatly. Loni has no time to react before a wolf leaps into the carriage; this upsets the balance of the carriage even more. Releasing the pudding, Loni slides and scrambles under the seat in the farthest cornor of the carriage. Seeing the wolf is too much on top of all of the different events of the past day or so. Pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, Loni sobs "Don't eat me! Please don't eat me!" The wolf is surprised when she finds the human in the carriage. Thrown off by this unanticipated event, she backs out of the carriage. When the human begins to beg, she backs away even farther. Unsure what happens now, she makes an attempt to shut the human up. It is a terribly annoying thing when it makes so much noise. "I would never eat something as pathetic as you." Loni is slightly mollified by the wolf's statement, but she continues to cower in the cramped space under the seat. She begins to talk to herself. "Stupid girl, you never should have left home. Didn't your mother tell you never to talk to strangers? Look where it's gotten you! You're in a carriage in the middle of the forest surrounded by wild animals!" This one-sided conversation only makes Loni feel sorry for herself, and she begins to sniffle again.

Very true. It's so hard to look at ourselves from someone else's perspective. This poem was very straight foward. That's refreshing every now and then...

Loni wakes up tossing and turning from a garish dream of a wrecked boat and a swimming horse when said horse pokes its nose in. For a moment she stares at, bemused. Why is a horse talking to her? Why is the horse talking at all? Why is she in a carriage? These thoughts dash through her head in a splitsecond before her mind catches up and puts everything together. Opening her mouth to answer the horse, Loni stalls for a minute, not completely woken up and words having escaped her. Her mind has barely caught up from last time. She frowns, attempting to think and finding her mind blank. "Um...I'll stay here, I guess." The horse rolls its eyes, and sighs. "Why couldn't I have picked one that at least has a working brain?" it moans. "I need the harness before we can go anywhere." Loni flushes and gets out of the carriage, accumalating several bruises as she does. When she lifts the harness, it immediatly falls from her grasp. Her still-pink face blushes again. Stooping, she hauls the harness out of the dust, getting a firmer grip this time. Almost tripping over the horse's leg, Loni drops the harness over the horse. "Don't drop it so hard, next time. Horses get bruises too, you know," the horse admonishes, wincing. "Sorry," Loni mumbles. Awkardly she climbs back into the carriage. She's barely sat down when it lurches onto the road, and horse and human are off again. Loni idley watches the scenery move past, not finding the repetitive trees and assorted undergrowth of any particular interest, but not having anything more entertaining to do. As she gazes, her mind wanders, and finally it occurs to her to wonder what the horse was doing with a carriage but no passenger or driver and why it's carrying her. Leaning out of the carriage, Loni asks the horse. "Umm...horse?" The horse hears the tenative request and stops moving. Casting a pleading glance towards the heavens, it says, "What?" "Why were you on the beach all by yourself?" "By all by myself I assume you mean with out a human?" the horse clarifies. "Erm, yes." "My former passenger and I got 'seperated', and a horse cannot just wander around for indefinite periods of time. You looked like a good companion, so here we are. Though I'm beginning to wonder if that was a wise choice." "Oh. Sorry." Loni's face is slightly pink, and she withdraws her head back into the carriage. "Is that all?" the horse calls back before setting off again. "Um..." Loni thinks desperately for a moment, not wanting to have to ask again later. "Which direction are we going?" "West. That's inland." The horse knows much more about the mainland than the fisher girl. "Oh. That's all." Loni does not know what good this piece of information will do her, as she has never been west before, but it seems good to know what direction one is traveling in. Loni slouches in the carriage, half asleep. The horse is back on the dusty brown road again, moving west.

I think this expresses how we rebel automatically against everything, and in one way or another everyone is alone, even surrounded by love or whatever. After I read this, my first thought was that it said how one doesn't want to be alone, yet whenever anyone tries to befriend, or help, or anything, one shoves them away, hugging one's loneliness tight. Maybe one thinks it makes one unique, or one is not sure how to befriend, or to used to being alone to rejoin the world. Of course, I could be wrong, but that's what I thought...

Yes, an interesting portrayal of Death. "Death crying" invokes a strange emotion... I liked this persona of Death, especially "Death's voice is soft." Almost seems like it could be a more haunting portayal than the usual.

Wow. This really invokes feeling, and I know exactly what it's describing. The part about the pillow replacing a hug definitly struck home. I think you put into words very well what a lot of us feel but just don't know how to describe.

Very true. It's the little things that get you, the little things that reduce one to tears. The poem was well-written, and very real.

I'm crying. Why? I don't know. The tears just come. Curled up on my bed, Wrapped in a blanket, Sobbing into my pillow And I don't know why. I'm sad, so sad, But the reason escapes me. I want someone to be there To dry my tears And tell me it's alright. But there's no one. Is that why I cry? Because there's no one there? Because I'm alone, so alone? Yes. I'm crying. Why? I'm alone and there's no one there to care.