Beautiful People #6: Spontáineach

Irish today.

I'm working on a story, quite a stubborn story. The story itself isn't so stubborn, it's more the words. Not that the story won't stop shifting and changing, but I'm getting it pinned down. The words, however, are stubbornly refusing. They come when I'm busy, and I write those down, but they are few, and when I sit down to write, I have no idea how to continue. In other words, I've written 348 words when I should have had about 30,000 by now (just kidding). (My goal is a measly 1000.)

I've been anxiously anticipating Cait and Sky's Beautiful People post for February since I posted mine for January. Finally, on the 5th (which was a delay I'd forgotten), she posted a Valentine's Day edition. A Valentine's Day edition. VALENTINE'S DAY.

I have no couples.

I could edit the questions to fit another relationship. But... Actually, how about this: I'm going to make up a random couple, on the fly, as I answer the questions.

This shall be interesting.

1. How long have they been a couple? Rwayn Joeli and Gary Paul have been together for 1.4 years.

2. How did they first meet? Accidentally. It was pouring rain and extremely windy. Umbrellas and briefcases and groceries and hair blocked their vision and stole their concentration.

Gary was walking to his car from the office. He was a law student working as an intern. His suit would be ruined in the downpour despite the small umbrella, but at least his briefcase and the important documents inside would be protected. He had rich scarlet hair but dyed it dark blond and brunette.

Rwayn was wrapped in her flowing yellow raincoat, barely keeping control of her umbrella, with a single bag of groceries on her arm. Her long dark hair whipped about her face and across her eyes. She was walking the couple blocks from her job at the small food mart to her home, where she lived with her mom. She was the youngest of three sisters and the only one still living at home. The law offices were on the block between the strip mall and her mom's.

Gary looked down for a moment to check his briefcase. Rwayn was blinded completely by her hair. Just as he looked down and before she could whip her hair from her eyes, the two collided. Gary dropped his briefcase. The bottom of Rwayn's plastic grocery bag broke open, the jar of pickles shattered on the pavement and the bread was instantly crushed and soggy. Both parties rushed to aid each other, and both promptly lost their umbrellas to the wind.

You get the idea.

They collected themselves, apologized profusely with nervous laughter, and went on their ways.

Afterwards, they recognized each other when their paths crossed after work. They probably had seen each other a zillion times before, but the accident in the storm had highlighted them as individuals rather than just another person in the world.

3. What were their first thoughts of each other? (Love at first sight or "you're freakishly annoying"?) As Gary would say now, looking back on that night, he saw a sweet girl who, had they met in other circumstances — at a mutual friend's, perhaps — he'd have wanted to get to know. As it was, he was more concerned about the contents of his briefcase and her ruined groceries and the rest of the chaos.

Rwayn saw a young lawyer in a rush to get home. He should have been watching where he was going, but he was kind enough to help her run down her umbrella and even offered to pay for the ruined food. Not that she let him. It was only a few dollars' worth, anyway. He was probably just as distracted, in his own way, with the storm as she was. She almost felt bad, watching him chase that ridiculously huge umbrella she'd lost to the wind.

4. What do they do that most annoys each other? Little or large? Let's go both. Ish.

Gary gets so focused on his work and school, buried in those law books of his and working on the tasks he's been given at the office. He's never not working or studying. She's a reader herself, but it'd be nice if he'd loosen up and take a look at living every once in a while. Life doesn't entirely consist of law books and phone calls. He also constantly clicks his pen, which might very well drive her insane someday.

Rwayn does anything anyone asks of her. While that isn't always a bad thing, he wishes she'd learn to say no every once in a while — even if he's the one receiving. She doesn't complain or act super stressed over it when she's accepted too many tasks, he just hates seeing her strung out between so many things. Despite the way she systematically multitasks her way through her mental list with that sweetness he loves, she needs to just cool it and relax every now and again. She also chews gum. He can't stand gum-chewing.

5. Are their personalities opposite or similar? They're equally on both sides of that, I think. One example can be seen if you were paying attention to the previous answer.

6. How would their lives be different without each other? He would be a hermit. She would be a [willing and unintentional] Cinderella.

Note: Giving her a mother and two sisters was unintentional. I only now realized how that resembled the Cinderella fairytale. (I also only just now decided on the Cinderella thing. As I said, I'm making this up as I go. And by "Cinderella thing," I only mean that she's constantly doing things for everyone.) I'm not sure what happened to/with her father, but her mother is biologically so, and her sisters are neither evil nor from other parent[s]. I believe one is in college (dark-haired, trim. Middle sibling. Kwinna, or Kwin (or Kwinnie to Rwayn). One/two years older than Rwayn. People have many times mistaken them for twins) and the other is married with two children (sandy blond, messy, shoulder-length hair. Gweneth Matthews, or Gwen. Three/four years older than Kwin. She has a four-year-old daughter and a two/three-year-old son. Her husband works, she works from home). The sisters are currently 21, 23, and 27.

7. Are they ever embarrassed of each other? Occasionally.

8. Does anyone disapprove of their relationship? Someone in Gary's family, I'm sure. I think he has an older brother. His father is rich. When his parents divorced, he stayed with his father and his brother with their mother. That wasn't entirely the brothers' choice. They didn't always get along, but they would have liked to stay together. In the end, at least they got to argue about who would go to which parent. Probably his mother is the one to disapprove. His brother likes the relationship, I think. (Not that he's met her? Just glad for his brother, and she's a sweet girl.)

9. Do they see their relationship as long-term / leading to marriage? They certainly don't see it as short-term. They haven't talked about marriage, or thought about it much (so busy), but they both see going there. For now, they're both happy taking it slow, at least until they're past the college years.

10. If they could plan the "perfect outing" together, where would they go? The water. A boat, in the water, with no one else in sight.

Another note: I think Gary is 24? And his brother... 26. Jared. His parents are James Paul and Mary Ginner (second married name). His father never remarried. He has an aunt, Sally Kurn (father's younger sister). Sally is blond, like a movie star in a red T-shirt and casual jeans. She's cool and artsy.

James and Sally

Beautiful People #5: A Escritora

That's right, Dean, you are.

(Obviously, I had to steal this, Cait.)

Q U E S T I O N S

1. How many years have you been writing? I'm not sure at all when I began writing... several years ago, at least. I don't know that I ever thought I'd be a writer, though. I always hated "write a short story about _____" assignments the very most, all the way from K-4, until perhaps... 7th grade? Something like that. When did you officially consider yourself a 'writer'? A few years ago? I'm not really certain. I'll have to look through my dates and see. Though I believe the first time I officially considered myself an actual writer would have been soon after Anne-girl and I began talking about books and writing and characters and plots and movies and all.

2. How/why did you start writing? Because I had to, the way Jeremiah had to preach.

3. What's your favorite part of writing? Writing. I know, lame, boring, extremely creative answer. 'Tis the truth, though. Writing is my favorite part of writing. When the words flow not so much from me but through me and I'm simply the channel through which they pass from the abstract to black and white colors.

4. What's your biggest writing struggle? Plotting. Plotting, plotting, plotting. I get random ideas and scenes and pictures and words, but rarely ever an entire story. Or if I do, I can't get enough details pinned down to actually get on with it. Thus all the cliffhangerishness that goes on around here. (Desculpe.)

5. Do you write best at night or day? At night. In the middle of the night. Strange, perhaps, but true. Then again... it seems I'm not so alone in this as I once thought. My favorite writings are always the ones I wrote sometime in the wee hours of the morning. This does seem to be changing somewhat, but for now it still remains.

6. What does your writing space look like? (Feel free to show us pictures!) Hmm, I don't exactly have one. My writing space is my laptop, or occasionally my phone or tablet, or, even less often, my notebook. Unless it's poetry... poetry I write in notebooks, or occasionally on the phone. For poetry, writing tools from first choice to last: notebook, tablet, phone, laptop. And for everything else: laptop, tablet, phone, notebook. (Something like that.) Weird.

7. How long does it typically take you to write a complete draft? I don't know, I've never done that [yet].

8. How many projects do you work on at once? As many as I want, I suppose. I'm not extremely organized about this writing thing. I'm trapped, though, as anyone else. In the most beautiful, chaotic way, of course.

9. Do you prefer writing happy endings, sad ones, or somewhere in between? Somewhere in between, I suppose. I like happily sad endings, or sadly happy endings. Please tell me you understand what I'm saying? Because I do realize that at first glance that may look like exactly the same thing, but it is not.

10. List a few authors who've influenced your writing journey. (Listed randomly.)

• Markus Zusak (The Book Thief)
• Allie Condie (Matched)
• Westmoure (Revelations)
• Anne-girl (Scribblings)
• Cait (Paper Fury)
• Sky (Further Up and Further In)
• Clare Vanderpool (Moonlight Over Manifest)
• Matthew J. Kirby (Icefall)
• Nicholas Sparks (A Walk to Remember)
  I've never loved love stories, but he makes them real. I've never read any of his books {though I just started The Longest Ride}, but I've seen A Walk To Remember {which was the first love story I fell in love with}, The Notebook {which was the second, I think}, and, as of this week, The Lucky One {the movie could have been done much better, but the story behind the cheese was quite the one}. I didn't realize until this week, when I watched The Lucky One, that all three were based on books written by Nicholas Sparks. Thus his addition to my list of awesomeness writers.
• A&E (screenwriters, Once Upon a Time)
• the writers of Supernatural
• Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games)
• Michael Grant (Gone)
• Edgar Allen Poe
• Christopher Paolini (Eragon. His books breathed into me a permanent inspiration. I suppose the day I finished Inheritance is the day I truly began to become a writer.)
• Mark Twain
• Jack London (The Call of the Wild)
• Ely ({what can I say?})
• Olivia (The Scribbleagonist)
• Ashley G. ([insert title here])
• Christine Smith, aka Lauriloth (Musings of an Elf)
• Jaime, aka Jaguar Hero! (The Dancing Lawn)
• Vicki (Sunshine and Shadow)
• Rachel Heffinton (The Inkpen Authoress)
• Ted Dekker (The Circle Series)
• Rick Riordan (Percy Jackson. He writes with a simplicity I at times admire.)
• Amy Walker
• and of course many others, but I can't list them all (sadly)

11. Do you let people read your writing? Why or why not? It depends. Sometimes I post what I write, sometimes I show it to only certain people (or characters), and other times I show it to no one (perhaps not even myself). In the latter case, I have a secret, private blog upon which I scrawl any and all such works for safe-keeping. Why? Because some things simply are or are not meant for sharing, dearie.

12. What's your ultimate writing goal or dream? Ultimate? Hmm. Perhaps to have that one great book of my own that becomes classic and loved. Like The Book Thief. Not that said book would be like The Book Thief itself, or even the same genre, or anything, only that it would be that kind of beloved classic... you get the idea?

13. If you didn't write, what would you want to do? Act. As in, be a legit actress. Yes, that is my dream job.

14. Do you have a book you'd like to write one day but don't feel you're ready to attempt it yet? Yes, I do. The one that comes to mind would be World Without Water. It's sloshing around in my head still, gathering and collecting such things as would be needed until such a time presents itself. I don't want to start until it's ready for fear of ruining such a beautiful story. (Not that I'm really sure of what's going on yet, other than the original [title] idea. Which is part of why it's sloshing.)

15. Which story has your heart and won't let go? Jainie. And Alex. Also the others, but mostly Jainie (and Alex).

A perhaps [un]noteworthy note:

GIFs are cool but annoying. I never dreamed I'd actually use any.

And then Dean showed up on Beautiful People.

Hmm. Awesomeness, indeed.

"a escritora" is Portuguese for "the writer" (feminine), if you must know

Hacked by One

Hi. This is the phantom. That's what she calls me, anyway (the writeress, that is).

She said the other day that it might be cool if someone hacked onto her blog and did a birthday post, like Anne's sisters/friends did, but that no one could hack it. I beg to differ, and so here I am.

this is the first I've shown her
of my face. It's not me, but close.
happy birthday

Let me introduce myself. I am a figment of her imagination. She was hanging out with her other characters one night when I just showed up and, let's be honest, freaked her out just a bit. She doesn't really call me the phantom, though she has used that term before. She mostly just calls me him or he or something like that. Mostly because I haven't told her my name, or who I am, or where I came from, or why I'm here. I just am, and she'll never be rid of me. (I think she kind of likes that idea, though she wouldn't admit it.) I'm always in all black and leather and silver chains. She thinks I'm always on my iPod, but I'm not really always on it, only a lot. I do always have my black earphones plugged in, listening to music.

Enough of me. Since I'm the only one who can "hack" her account, I've decided I'm obligated to do that birthday post she and her friend were talking about. Even if I am a bit late.

Her birthday was September 10th, on which day she turned twenty.

The big two-oh.

Jess, leave.

It's Dan. But I'm her favorite.

No, you're not. And stop with the Dan thing, it's getting tiresome.

Well, at least I've got a na—

There, I've bumped him off.

I understand she's been missing in the blogging world this month. I can see her quote blog has failed miserably, temporarily. She went from an entirely empty summer to every day being full with something, which is the cause of the unannounced disappearance. Now I'm getting wordy. That happens when I force myself to talk too much.

Life got busy and she was dragged along for the ride. It's not all bad. Most of it's good, actually. She met some new people and they all became fast friends. She's going to their wedding this weekend. She's moving to Florida in less than two weeks (which is kind of a big deal, and she still hasn't begun to pack beyond mentally organizing things). She had a sleepover with another friend and they came up with an entire project Anne is now working on.

This is a lousy post as birthday posts go. I'm not really sure what they do and say in these.

Just say happy birthday, already! And... yeah, I don't really know, either. Good experiment, though. And now people know you exist. You were so opposed to that. What changed your mind?

Would you guys stop interrupting?

You know what, say happy birthday, everyone.

Happy birthday! :))

Uh, happy birthday. I guess.

Jess, be nice. Say what you mean for once.

I did.

*sigh*

Happy birthday, Jessy.

Happy birthday, writeress :]

There, good? Good.

She loves music. She's discovered a whole array of instrumental covers lately. She listens to music constantly, whether it's those covers or something else. She listens to music more than she does anything else. Breathing is almost less important to her. Poetical writing and speech is music to her mind, she sees patterns of poetry in a lot more than most people might.

Jainie wants to say something.

Thanks. I just wanted to say I'm glad she wrote me. I might die, but that's okay. I think she found a better way to go with the story, but I'm not sure. Either way, someone dies... I guess I'm not very good about spoilers, but he's warning me, so I'll stop.

This is for her birthday, so I wanted to say something nice, that's all. I've gotten to see some of the poems she's written that she hasn't posted, and that's one of my favorite things about being her character, getting to read unknown poetry. She lets me see all the stuff she writes for my novel and for blogging, even the rough drafts, which is fun, too.

I guess that's all.

Seems a good place to end. But first, here's one of her favorite covers.



Happy birthday, girl.

Signing off, the one currently known as the phantom black.

Water, Fire

One way to participate in Kendra's 5&3 party is to write something based off one of her WIP titles. I chose Water Princess, Fire Prince.

If that were a guy, this picture would be perfect.
Neither girl really fits Marta.
The fire girl fits her better than the water girl,
though not because of her looks.

I slide out of bed, already dressed in the clothes my brother has managed to smuggle to me. Tiaras and ruffles just won't do for this misadventure.

I do my hair in a tight braid at the nape of my neck. I don't wear any shoes. Shoes are a curse of culture, and they'll only hinder my climb.

I cross my room to the ginormous window. I might mention I live in a castle. I'm a princess, my twin brother a prince. We've been kept apart by our parents and the servants for far too long and with no explanation. We only know that there seems to be something wrong with us, judging by all the gossip and teasing we've been subject to.

I tie a rope to the dresser nearby and test it to be sure it'll hold before climbing out the window and beginning my decent. Marcus and I are thirteen, and we want to know why we haven't been allowed to get near each other for these past ten years. We've been allowed to talk or hang out together, but we are never to touch and are under constant supervision to be sure that we don't. Tonight, we're going to learn why.

I jump the last few feet to the ground and look around to see if Marcus has made it down from his own window. He has, and as soon as we see each other, we run as cautiously as we can to the woods surrounding the castle grounds. We don't stop until we're deep enough into the forest we're sure we won't be discovered by the guards.

We both rest for a minute, catching our breath.

"Are you ready?" Marcus asks me.

"As much as I'll ever be," I answer.

We stand in front of each other and bring our hands together. As my hand nears his, I begin to feel a strange sensation, which grows stronger as our hands get closer. It feels like pins and needles, only softer, rounder. Seconds after our hands touch, I jerk mine away with a small scream.

I grab my wrist and look at my hand. And scream again in stark horror. My skin is rolling and bubbling like hot water over a fire. It quickly calms down and my hand returns to almost normal, though it still seems to have a liquid quality to it.

I look at my brother and notice his hand, bright red, like hot coals after their fire has been put out. He looks at me, mouth gaping, shock written across his face. I suppose I look much the same.

"What was that‽" I say, though certain he doesn't know any better than I do.

We're quiet for some time, thinking. After a while, something seems to click in Marcus's eyes. He walks to the nearest tree and lays his hand on the bark. He closes his eyes for a minute, seeming to concentrate on something. Suddenly, the wood beneath his hand bursts into flames, but he doesn't cry out or move his hand.

"What are you doing?" I yell.

"It doesn't hurt."

I stop, realizing what he's said. "What?" I ask, confused.

"The fire, it doesn't burn. My hand feels fine." He pulls his hand away and shows me. "See?"

I walk to him and inspect his hand. He's right, it isn't burnt. I touch my finger to his palm, wondering if his skin feels hot, but I again pull my hand away with a short scream. I realize he's done the same. I glance at my hand and find the same result before looking at his. The spot where I'd touched him is sizzling, much like when you pour water into a burning pot. Strange that fire shouldn't hurt him but a simple touch does.

But not just any touch, my touch. I begin to understand what had clicked in Marcus's mind moments before. I walk to the tree he's lit on fire, hold my hand out, and concentrate on squelching the flames.

I hear a splosh and open my eyes. The bark is smoldering where it had been burning seconds earlier. The tree is wet, as if someone had dowsed the fire with a bucket of water.

"So this is why they've separated us," I mutter, loud enough for Marcus to hear. "But why didn't they tell us?"

We look at each other, thinking it through, trying to make sense of it.

"I wonder how we got this way," Marcus says. "I wish I'd known sooner, this could be fun."

That sparked a thought in my head. "Maybe that's why they didn't want to tell us—"

"So we wouldn't misuse it," we finish.

"Well, now that we know," he begins.

I finish for him, "...what are we going to do about it?"

A Novel Idea – Jesse Daniel

click above to view this week's linkup

Hello dearies! I've gotten behind with blogging – Kendra's blog party, Anna's contest. Mostly, that's because I've been writing (a short story-ish writing for Kendra's party, a FanFic for Anna). For the FanFic, I also decided I should rewatch some of the show, which has eaten into most of that time, as well as things like church and picnics. Of course, Goodreads, Facebook, Blogger, and Instagram aren't much help...

Anyhow, I'm taking a short break to do Ashley's new linkup. Then back to work.

The picture fits him in some ways, in other ways it's not him at all. It's just the best one I've found so far.

Where was he born? In a hospital, in their home, what city? I don't know. I haven't really thought about that, at all. I'm beginning to think they live in Michigan, though.

Where does he live now? See previous question.

Who are the people he is closest to? Family, friends? AnnDrew. They're best friends, after all.

Where does he go when he's angry and need to get away? His room or the skate park. Headphones in, music turned up loud, drowning out the world.

Chatterbox: Something Foreign, part 1

This month's Chatterbox is something foreign. In the words of Rachel: "How do your characters interact with those of another culture or nationality?"

Westmoure from Revelations and I worked together using his character, Seiryn, and my character, AnnDrew. This is the first part. You can find the link to part 2 at the bottom of this post.

Now, without any further nonsense, I present to you part one of Something Foreign:


Seiryn closed her eyes tightly as she jumped through the shrubbery. Branches snapped and raked her arms, but then her feet hit concrete and she was tumbling, scraping a knee, but still running. Behind her, the bushes ignited and rushed into smoke and burning stumps. Then, from her left, a knife looped through the air, slicing right past her face. Seiryn slammed a fist to the ground, sending shockwaves rippling out, hoping it would stun her pursuers. She heard the click of Agramnon's handgun, and turning, she pushed open a door and stumbled through, not seeing, and pushing an auburn-headed woman to the ground with a shoulder to the face.

~~~~~~~

AnnDrew walked through the door, wondering what kind of restaurant this was. She'd never been to Egypt before, or any sort of Egyptian restaurant, so she wasn't sure what to expect.

She barely made it inside before she was knocked to the ground by a whirlwind from behind. The intruder grabbed her and pulled her against the wall, where they couldn't be seen from outside. The woman clamped her hand hard over AnnDrew's mouth and hissed in her ear to keep quiet. She watched out the window as three men in red cloaks ran past. It was only after they were out of sight that she released her hold on the girl. AnnDrew gasped for lack of air and turned to face her, wide-eyed.

"Who are you?"

The woman glared. "Shh. Agramnon could still hear you." After a moment, she looked down. "Call me Seiryn. But do it quietly."

AnnDrew laughed softly. "Okay, Seiryn," she whispered. "I'm AnnDrew. Who's Agramnon?"

"A murderer and a mastermind, but don't think about him too much, or he might sense you."

"Sense me? What do you mean?"

"He is present in the thoughts of those who think of him."

"Um, okay..." AnnDrew looked around for a moment. By now, anyone in the restaurant had gone back to whatever they were doing before the excitement. She stepped to the table nearest them and sat down. "Let's sit. Why are you running from those guys, anyway?"

Seiryn eased into a chair. "Well, most likely, they would kill me, if they could catch up."

"Kill you? Why?"

"I stand in their way. Why else would they hunt me? But this is not a place for such dark matters."

"Okay, then. So, are you from around here?"

"Egypt? No. No, I live quite a ways from this place. Uttsaria is my home."

"Where's that? I've never heard of Uttsaria before."

"It's the second largest city in Atlantea."

"You mean, Uttsaria is some part of Atlanta, Georgia, or something?"

Seiryn looked at her blankly. "Georgia?"

"Yeah, in the US. You know, one of the 50 states."

"No... Do they serve beef here? I've been eating salted fish for weeks."

"I have no idea. I was wondering what they serve, myself. I'm from the United States, this is my first time in Egypt."

"What do they eat, in that country?"

"Burgers, pork, steak. We eat fish, too. Pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Rice and pasta and potatoes. Soda, tea, and coffee. Watermelon in the summer, all kinds of fruits, really. I guess you can find just about anything if you know where to look."

"Ever had squid or octopus? How about Char? Or archerfish?"

"No. I've never even heard of Char or archerfish. What is Char? Is that a fish, too?"

"Yes, fish are the only native creatures in Atlantis. Everything else is imported from Phoenicia, mainly."

"Wait, did you just say Atlantis?!"

click here for part 2 of Something Foreign

A Novel Idea – Anna Drew

Hello, dearies! I've happened across a brand new (weekly!) linkup, hosted by Ashley from Ashley Aspires.

Click on the picture to the right to view this week's linkup!

What's her name? Anna Drew Stevens

Is she named after someone? Not that I'm aware of.

Does she have a nickname? AnnDrew

How old is she? 15

Hairstyle? Straight, curly, short, long, etc. She has very bright, rich red hair. It's messy-straight. The style is something very much like the picture above, though shorter. I'd say it's about shoulder-length — just touching her shoulders or a bit longer.

Eyes? Color, size, etc. Take the makeup away, and these are her eyes exactly. In fact, this is a much more accurate picture than the first one, though it's only of part of her face. Right down to the freckles, it's perfect.

My Name Is Dan

Hello everyone! AnnDrew here. Jess has this crazy idea—

I told you, don't call me that anymore. And it's not crazy.

That's him, by the way. Anyhow, he's got this idea that we're to call him Dan now. I told him that's silly, but he won't listen, of course.

It's not silly, it's my middle name. Jess is a girl's name.

No, it's your name. We've always called you Jess.

My name is Jesse Daniel. You've always called me Jess.

Okay, fine, then. It's your nickname. But seeing as I'm your best friend, I'll call you whatever I like, Sue.

Dan.

Alright, Dana.

*rolls eyes*

Guys, guys, knock it off. You're friends, remember?

Riiight.

Jess...

Oh, come on!

Sorry. Habit.

Wait, we actually have to call him that?

Yes, you do.

Oh. Well, I still like Dana better.

*sigh*

Hi.

Hi, Alex.

Oh, hey, Alex!

*glares in Alex's direction*

Where've you been? We were starting to wonder if you'd show up.

Show up to what?

We're writing a post on Jessy's blog.

Or fighting one.

What?

Nevermind.

Not you. Ann.

*looks suspiciously at Jess* Didn't you tell him?

Tell him what?

Jess!

*ignores her*

Jesse Daniel Parker, you—

Calm down, it's fine.

Hmph. *eyes Jess pointedly*

What are we posting about?

Oh, that. We already did. We were talking about how Jess wants us to call him Dan now.

He does?

Well, you certainly make sure Alex knows everything, don't you, Dan.

I hardly see him.

Guys! What did I say earlier?

Right.

Apologize.

Sorry, Jess.

AnnDrew.

Um, sorry, Dan.

Better.

*silence*

Dan?

Fine. Sorry.

Friends? *extends hand to Dan*

Since when were we not friends?

Right...

Good. I think.

Let's go for pizza. I'll buy.

Awesome!

*everyone looks at Dan*

What?

Aren't you coming?

Uh, sure.

Oh, come on. It's time for lunch, anyway.

Yeah, I'm coming.

*AnnDrew and Alex leave the room*

What have you got against Alex? You aught to be nicer to him, and AnnDrew, too, for that matter.

Yes, ref.

*sigh* Let's go eat.

*Dan follows Jessy out the door*

Beautiful People: Jess

1) What's his favorite food? Spaghetti

2) What does he absolutely hate? Hypocrites

3) What does he enjoy learning about? Anything. He reads a lot and loves to learn.

4) Who is the most influential person in his life? His youth pastor.

5) What is his childhood fear? He was afraid a tree would be struck by lightning, fall on the house, and crush someone.

6) What is something he has always secretly dreamed of but thought impossible? Winning gold at the Winter Olympics for snowboarding and at the Summer Olympics for skateboarding.

7) What is something he is impractically afraid of? Losing his best friend.

8) Is he a night owl or a morning person? Night owl, definitely.

9) Does he say everything that pops into his head or leave a lot unsaid? He doesn't usually say everything that pops into his head, but he doesn't necessarily leave things unsaid, either.

10) What are his nervous habits? Stretching, hands in pockets, moving.