Post by Lorcan Parrish on Aug 30, 2007 16:45:50 GMT -5
How could it be called 'rickety'? It was absolutely adorable! The poor thing, abandoned and left to dwell behind a few ugly, scruffy bushes. It was probably so lonely;
It was up to Lorcan to save her!
And so goes the eternally blissful, rather acidic and gelatinous contents of the girl's mind as she raced along the edge of the Lake, a drum stick in each hand, twirling along like the ninja hoodster of Hogwarts. Every bang of the small bucket of pastel-and-neon colored chalk tied from her belt against her thigh and the pounding footsteps reverberated in her ears, thumping up an uneven bass line into her ears, kind of reminding her of some sped-up, cracked theme song for some thrash superhero.
flash.
bang.
IDEA.
Adolf Hipstuh, the perfect German-themed super hero. Protecting the magical lakes with his super-rad x-ray vision. Or something.
Slowing down a bit to a trot, Lorcan spotted the edge of the Rickety Pier a few yards ahead, the chalk now only gently bumping against her hips. Stepping onto the creaking wood, the mid-morning sun glared against the water and blinded her momentarily. She took a few more steps forward, unknotting the yarn holding the chalk bucket in place. It clanged onto the wood next to her feet, her pale fingers grasping the yarn, intertwined around her drum stick.
It made no sense.
This was obviously a dock, not a pier.
Rolling her eyes, she left her chalk and walked to the end, planting her bum on the edge and pulling off her old connies and chucking them over her shoulder, then dangling her toes in the cool water, thoroughly discouraged. Being that it was a dock it did not need to be saved. Docks were less important than Piers. Scooping up her drumsticks again, she started beating on a fast rhythm on the old wood beside her, her feet cutting back and forth through the water to keep time. Interesting, how nobody was here at such a premo time. Shaking the dark hair out of her eyes, she watched the water move lazily below her as her sticks tapped away.
[/size][/color][/center][/font]It was up to Lorcan to save her!
And so goes the eternally blissful, rather acidic and gelatinous contents of the girl's mind as she raced along the edge of the Lake, a drum stick in each hand, twirling along like the ninja hoodster of Hogwarts. Every bang of the small bucket of pastel-and-neon colored chalk tied from her belt against her thigh and the pounding footsteps reverberated in her ears, thumping up an uneven bass line into her ears, kind of reminding her of some sped-up, cracked theme song for some thrash superhero.
flash.
bang.
IDEA.
Adolf Hipstuh, the perfect German-themed super hero. Protecting the magical lakes with his super-rad x-ray vision. Or something.
Slowing down a bit to a trot, Lorcan spotted the edge of the Rickety Pier a few yards ahead, the chalk now only gently bumping against her hips. Stepping onto the creaking wood, the mid-morning sun glared against the water and blinded her momentarily. She took a few more steps forward, unknotting the yarn holding the chalk bucket in place. It clanged onto the wood next to her feet, her pale fingers grasping the yarn, intertwined around her drum stick.
It made no sense.
This was obviously a dock, not a pier.
Rolling her eyes, she left her chalk and walked to the end, planting her bum on the edge and pulling off her old connies and chucking them over her shoulder, then dangling her toes in the cool water, thoroughly discouraged. Being that it was a dock it did not need to be saved. Docks were less important than Piers. Scooping up her drumsticks again, she started beating on a fast rhythm on the old wood beside her, her feet cutting back and forth through the water to keep time. Interesting, how nobody was here at such a premo time. Shaking the dark hair out of her eyes, she watched the water move lazily below her as her sticks tapped away.