.just a walk in the park [ open ]

[.x. lorelei carlson;]

All along the park sat lovers and prostitutes.

What a lovely way to begin.

Men sat with blankets full of pirated videos, hands in their pockets, keeping an eye out for police officers. Men in trenchcoats grinned greedily as a woman inspected their jewlery choices. Hookers shoved their breasts in eager men's faces, telling them that they worked cheap. It was sickening. The whores gave her a disgusted look. Typical.

They all thought she was so innocent. Most people did. That she was "waiting for marriage," or whatever that crap was. Well, truth was, that wasn't true. If she told you that, she'd be dead lying.

No, she didn't still have a gift to give to people, as Father McGinnus would say. High school was fucked up. End of story. She was drunk, he was drunk. The whole damn party was drunk. And then it happened. And it sucked big time, by the way.

She shoved her hands in her hoodie. What would it be like if he'd been someone else? No, Lorelei, no thinking of that. She scowled, the cold winter air biting at her limbs. Her messenger bag thumped against her thighs as she walked briskly. It was true, she was in an awful mood.

The agent she had met with had been, well, a fucking crack whore. She'd been greedy, asking for over forty percent of the income, and had no clients she'd ever heard of. And she wanted to turn her into a pop princess. No. NO. Never. Lorelei and pink just wasn't a good combination.

So, there was another chance at stardom just crossed off the list. Funny how it just kept getting shorter and shorter. Pretty soon there wouldn't be anything at all. You only get so many chances in life. Chances to shine, chances to fall. Chances to prove your worth, chances to ask for help. Chances to reach out, chances to break connections. If she could say what heaven was like, it'd probably be some sort of Gambler's Anonymous meeting. Because all we ever did was take chances. And half the time you end up on your ass in the dust.

Spreading out a blanket, she sat in the grass. She pulled out a notebook, but didn't open it. She watched a man play frisbee with his dog, an overactive poop machine if you asked her. Two kids who looked not a day over thirteen were "making out" behind a tree. They both looked so nervous it made her laugh just to watch them. They'd probably bite each other's tongues off, they were so nervous.

She sighed, staring at the skyline. She needed something more interesting than this.

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[zoink!THERIOT]

Black converse shoes smashed the daisies as a boy of 19 slowly walked over them. The park was rather boring. It's not like he came to the park often. He'd rather be watching The OC. then being at the park, and he hated The O.C.

This certain boy is named Edward- Edward Theriot. However, if you called him Edward, he would surely slap you. He goes by Zoink- nothing else- just Zoink. Zoink had always fitted him. Chaos on legs, that boy was. Not to mention sex on legs, now that you think about it. But that's not really the point at the moment.

So, what had brought him to the park? Pure boredom, you could say. He didn't feel like studying for any tests. Nor did he feel like doing his homework. Now, this is where immaturity comes in.

Zoink is like a stick. He has small hips and jungle for hair. It was completed with blonde and dark brown highlights mixed in with his brown hair. His green eyes are always covered by this jungle of sorts. It was just how it was. Zoink liked his hair that way- and nothing would change that.

As he walked in the park, his eyes couldn't help but look a rather petite figure only 4 feet away. He came up behind her. "Hey," he said.

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[.x. lorelei carlson;]

A bird flew over her head, and she cringed. Birds were worse than dogs. See, birds flew when they crapped. So you'd just be sitting there, and, poof! You've got yourself a present on your shoulder. Dogs you just stepped in it, and then you had an excuse for new shoes. Much MUCH better than birds.

Well, as this one flew over, she was certain it was going to shit on her. She tensed up, ready to have that abomination drop its load when--

"Hey." She heard the voice behind her, and she whipped her head around, takign slight notice of the fact that she was actually bird shit free. She took the guy in-- all of him, from his highlighted hair to his black converse-- and grinned. He looked to promise a hell of a good time.

Hey, she said back. She picked up her notebook and tossed it back inside her bag. Can I help you?

It was more of a bemused question than a condescending one. She didn't do the whole snooty voice act. She'd shoot the breeze with a homeless man on the streets if he asked. Hug him? Well, no. That wouldn't do. She didn't want him to, er, like infect her or anything.

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[zoink!THERIOT]

Can I help you?

This reply took Zoink to a bit of a shock. Snobby much? He kept his eyebrow raise to himself and tried to ignore it. “Uhm.” he said, biting his lip. “No. Is it…against the law to be friendly, around here, or something?” he retorted. Well, she did deserve it. The whole snotty thing ticked Zoink off a lot. “The name’s Zoink. Zoink Theriot. I’m 19. I go to the community college.” Most people found his name a bit odd. “My real name is Edward. But my friends call me Zoink. Nickname, I guess.”

He looked up. Plenty of birds flew overhead. He only looked up for a few seconds before looking down again. The girl was actually quite pretty. His eyes transfixed on her hair. It was around the natural color of his hair, if you don’t count the blonde highlights and such.

The weather was pretty decent. Actually, it was quite beautiful out. He was wearing a Sugarcult and tee and some baggy shorts. His shoe’s shoelaces were scattered about. He never tied his shoelaces. Weird habit, he supposed. He didn’t want to waste time doing something like tying his shoe. Things to do, places to go- Zoink was always off somewhere.

A slight breeze went through, cooling him off. Los Angeles was always hot. That’s why Zoink rarely went outside when it was winter. It was too hot for him. He was always afraid he was going to melt or dehydrate. Paranoid? Oh no. Let’s just say….precautious.

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[.x. lorelei carlson;]

A frown flickered, but she didn't let it show for too long. She considered giving some sort of witty comeback, but she was never good at those. They sounded more like a lame punchline from Full House. Something little Michelle would say. And, that wasn't exactly what you would call witty.

I'm Lorelei Carlson. I don't go to college.

Maybe not the smoothest. But it was true. She didn't even live on the "good" part of town. That would be a new introduction. She'd have to remember it. "Hey, I'm Lorelei, and I'm from the hood." Oh, yes. That'd be most enjoyable.

Oh God. If she had a mirror right now. Her expression was a mixture of a smile and a frown, not quite a grin but not a smirk either. It was sort of like the "family made" sauce you get at the old farmstands. You don't really know what all's in it, and it looks like crap. But at least you know it's earnest.

Absentmindedly, her finger toyed with a hole in her jeans. No, she didn't buy them "pre-destroyed" from Hollister. She was bored, and she had scissors. There wasn't much else to do in her apartment, unless your favorite meal is Oatmeal. You can make all the fucking oatmeal you want. The microwave was ready, and the Dixie cups were waiting. But otherwise, you just entertained yourself until you could go out.

Was it just her, or were Man-and-Poop-Machine encroaching on her space? That would be nice. Get whacked in the head with a slobbery frisbee. She didn't doubt that it would happen. She shoved her hands into her grey hoodie. Her mother had gotten it for her, actually. It was her mother's vision of satire. It said COLLEGE in big bold black letters. Just a subtle reminder, is what she had said. Whatever. It was warm. And she kind of liked satire.

[zoink!THERIOT]

So, this Lorlei girl didn’t go to college. A bit odd, but okay. This time he couldn’t help but raise his left eyebrow. “Mhmm..” he said, his lips pressed. She seemed okay. I mean, he wouldn’t necessarily wouldn’t use those exact words she had- it made her sound kind of stupid. He would have said, ‘Oh, hey, I’m Zoink. I’m not attending school at the moment.’ Or something of that nature that doesn’t sound quite as stupid.

Zoink can be really immature at some times, I’ll tell you that. I’m serious- he can get really, really, really immature- like making farting sounds with his armpit like a third grader would do. Yes, my friend- defiantly immature to the maximum. Well, if there is a maximum to being immature. But whatever.

His foot shifted in his black converse. If you were to look into Zoink’s closet (not like you would ever get into a situation where you had to do this)- you would find converse, all lined up on the floor of the closet. They were all the same, except for the design on it. He’s got red, green, blue, black converse with flames- and even a purple pair (he wouldn’t be caught dead in those)- he’s got them all. All he wears is converse, my friend.

More daises got smashed with his oversized foot and converse. He felt a bit sad for them as he looked down. However, he looked back up in a matter of seconds, the two teen’s eyes met for a milli-second before Zoink looked away. “Uhm. Interesting, I guess. How old are you?” Heck, he could have sex with this girl if he felt like it- he had nothing else to do. Most girls would die if they were offered to have sex with Zoink anyway. Zoink had always been a lady’s man. Figures. Well, it’s not like he was planning to have sex with her anyway. He was bored to death, though. Nothing better to do.

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[.x. lorelei carlson;]

Whack.

She told you. She thought to herself she was going to get hit. And there it went. Shit! Yes Lorelei. You are in fact quite a smartie. Just keep on using your quite broad vocabulary. Oh, what's that? You don't have one? Funny, I wouldn't have noticed.

The eyebrow raise did it. Yes, that just did it. Talking would get her no where. She wasn't exactly overly refined. If she wanted to, she would let herself talk to the point where it just became word vomit. Her foot was basically permanently stuck in her mouth. She'd gotten used to it, though. Eating past her foot was rather difficult. As well as trimming her toenails. But, you know, she got used to it.

I'm ninteen. Good old Lorelei. No more than three words per sentence.

She stood up, picking up the slobbery frisbee. Her head still kind of hurt. Just a little, but of course it was the principal of the thing. She tossed-- to the best of her rather uncoordinated ability-- to throw the frisbee back. And it pretty much sailed in that general direction. But, er, you might want to define general first.

She raked her brain, where to go, what to do. She considered suggesting vandalism, and I mean seriously considered it, but that might just add to the Dumb Lorelei aspect. Just a little bit. Yes, this dumbfounded lost for words and ideas was not helping her at all. All of course on a bad hair day. Not made any better by the little piece sticking out thanks to the dog slobber. Oh, dear. Long long shower tonight.

She considered playing up the dumb aspect, perhaps with a joke. But she was bad at joking. It always sounded like she meant it. So saying, "Well what do you do for fun? Read?" might sound stupid rather than facisious. No, no. That wouldn't do.

She decided to be blunt. No more overthinking. Just be Lorelei. Oh, lord. This'd be good.

Do you have any idea of what to do around here? She felt sort of like one of the Little Rascals. An odd analogy, perhaps, but it was true. You know, just like a kid again. And she liked it. She was just doing things on whim. She was, if you thought about it, still a kid. Despite all this agent crap. She supposed everyone had their own person, plus about five variations of it. And you chose which card you wanted to play. With agents, you had to be smart, savvy, and sophisticated, not to mention talented. With well-to-do adults, you had to be polite, and soft spoken. Refined if you will. With little kids, you had to be a good example. And with people your age, you could generally be whatever. And that, let me tell you, is a wonderful thing.

[ ooc. wow. i dont even know where i was going with that one xD ]

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