There's nothing better than having a spare right after lunch.
Dominic Stratford sat at a table at the far end of the room, chewing thoughtfully on the end of his pencil. Books and papers lay scattered around him, although front and center was a worn notebook with multiple sketches in the margin. Next to it was a (mostly) blank worksheet.
Technically he was supposed to be actually working, but a Tupperware of semi-frozen raspberries from home and an almost-finished book meant that he'd propped his feet up on another chair and dived happily into the novel, one hand occasionally sneaking out from the pages to snag a raspberry. It was only when he'd finished the book that he'd resigned himself to doing the homework, but even that wasn't going so well.
Fortunately, he had time - and a lot of it. The worksheet wasn't even due until tomorrow, and he still had a good half a container of raspberries left. So he worked idly, stopping often to doodle in the notebook, look up and people watch, generally just waste time.
Homework: Last Resort of the Bored
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ifnotwinter†
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Homework: Last Resort of the Bored
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xylophonefairy†
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Neill swaggered slightly as he walked through the cafetorium, imagining the eyes of the girls on him as he walked. He knew full well that they were looking everywhere but at him, but it made for a nice daydream. He caught a glimpse at an attractive brunette cheerleader, and quickly checked out her appearance, before moving on. He checked him glasses in his pocket, and after considering for a moment, slipped them on his nose as though they were required when he was choosing his food, even if he could probably collect his lunch with his eyes shut as he ate the same thing every day. Neill was a creature of habit.
Picking up his tray, he scanned the room for something resembling an interesting place to eat. Nobody he really considered a friend was in there at the moment, to his vague annoyance. There was nothing that Neill hated more than appearing unpopular, so spying Dominic, whom he knew vaguely by name but had never spoken to, he made a beeline for the table where the boy sat surrounded by books and raspberries.
"My brother is allergic to raspberries," Neill said by way of a conversation opener, sitting down in front of the only clear space on the table. "We didn't know until he was seven, and we were staying over at Moms for the first time in ages, and she gave us some. And his face swelled up and you couldn't see his eyes."
Neill paused, and looked closely at Dominic, taking a bite of his sandwich. He gulped it down painfully when it wasn't chewed enough. "You don't appear to have the same problem," he added as an afterthought, aware that he was talking total crap to somebody he barely knew. Neill tugged awkwardly at the collar of his shirt, an annoying habit of his when he was in an unusual situation.
Picking up his tray, he scanned the room for something resembling an interesting place to eat. Nobody he really considered a friend was in there at the moment, to his vague annoyance. There was nothing that Neill hated more than appearing unpopular, so spying Dominic, whom he knew vaguely by name but had never spoken to, he made a beeline for the table where the boy sat surrounded by books and raspberries.
"My brother is allergic to raspberries," Neill said by way of a conversation opener, sitting down in front of the only clear space on the table. "We didn't know until he was seven, and we were staying over at Moms for the first time in ages, and she gave us some. And his face swelled up and you couldn't see his eyes."
Neill paused, and looked closely at Dominic, taking a bite of his sandwich. He gulped it down painfully when it wasn't chewed enough. "You don't appear to have the same problem," he added as an afterthought, aware that he was talking total crap to somebody he barely knew. Neill tugged awkwardly at the collar of his shirt, an annoying habit of his when he was in an unusual situation.
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ifnotwinter†
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Dominic glanced up as Neill sat down, then hastily reached across the table and shoved some of the clutter out of the way. He knew the other boy vaguely from various classes, but they'd never talked as far as he could remember.
He was about to say something when Neill announced that his brother was allergic to raspberries. His eyebrows raised, and he almost cautiously popped another berry in his mouth, only to half-choke on a laugh at Neill's final comment.
Swallowing the berry, he wiped his fingers on a nearby napkin and grinned, leaning back and shaking his head. "Not me. Raspberries, strawberries, blueberries - any kind of berries. And no facial swelling, which definitely is getting chalked up in the win column."
He shoved a pile of papers and textboks into the open bag next to his chair, clearing a little more room. "It's Neill, right?"
He was about to say something when Neill announced that his brother was allergic to raspberries. His eyebrows raised, and he almost cautiously popped another berry in his mouth, only to half-choke on a laugh at Neill's final comment.
Swallowing the berry, he wiped his fingers on a nearby napkin and grinned, leaning back and shaking his head. "Not me. Raspberries, strawberries, blueberries - any kind of berries. And no facial swelling, which definitely is getting chalked up in the win column."
He shoved a pile of papers and textboks into the open bag next to his chair, clearing a little more room. "It's Neill, right?"
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xylophonefairy†
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Neill watched Dominic eat the raspberries with interest, especially when he talked about the different ones. Perhaps to appease Sam, but they never had anything berry like in their house. In fact, they never had fruit, Neill's Mom would point this out sometimes when the brothers expressed digust at a banana or something,
"Yes! That is I" Neill proclaimed, spreading his arms wide and speaking in a strange booming voice. He held the pose for a second or two before dropping his arms back to their original position and taking another bite of his sandwich as though nothing had happened. He chewed on it thoughtfully for a second, swallowing again but less painfully this time. He pulled at his collar again, a small movement than before, slightly confused by his outlandish actions.
Clearing his throat, Neill felt he should reciprocate the gesture.
"And your name is Dominic." Neill said, with a touch of pride in his voice, even though his face to name connection was very good and he knew the name, at least, of just about everyone in his grade, even if he knew nothing else about them. He had never had the issue where someone's name escaped him, something in the way his brain was wired. "Dominic who is not allergic to raspberries, or indeed, any type of berry."
Neill paused, aware that this might have sounded like he was making fun of him, and he didn't really want to lose a new aquaintance that quickly.
"But," he added in a serious voice, "have you ever tried a snozberry?"
"Yes! That is I" Neill proclaimed, spreading his arms wide and speaking in a strange booming voice. He held the pose for a second or two before dropping his arms back to their original position and taking another bite of his sandwich as though nothing had happened. He chewed on it thoughtfully for a second, swallowing again but less painfully this time. He pulled at his collar again, a small movement than before, slightly confused by his outlandish actions.
Clearing his throat, Neill felt he should reciprocate the gesture.
"And your name is Dominic." Neill said, with a touch of pride in his voice, even though his face to name connection was very good and he knew the name, at least, of just about everyone in his grade, even if he knew nothing else about them. He had never had the issue where someone's name escaped him, something in the way his brain was wired. "Dominic who is not allergic to raspberries, or indeed, any type of berry."
Neill paused, aware that this might have sounded like he was making fun of him, and he didn't really want to lose a new aquaintance that quickly.
"But," he added in a serious voice, "have you ever tried a snozberry?"
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ifnotwinter†
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Genial as ever, Dominic pushed the container of berries, still a good one-third full, over in Neill's direction, still with a slightly baffled if good natured grin on his face. Neill reminded him of his sister Abigail, in a way. And Neill seemed nice enough.
He gave Neill a lazy double thumbs-up, leaning back in his chair and closing his notebook. "Dominic who is not allergic to any type of berry that he knows of. But I've never tried snozberries. Are they good?"
He'd also never heard of the name and there was a little logical bit of himself that suspected they might be fictional, but then, almost everyone he'd met has said the same thing about salmonberries and they were just the flipping best things he'd ever tasted, if you picked them at the right time. But he'd only ever seen them when he'd visited his aunt in Canada, and never could find them here.
Maybe Neill knew them. "Incidentally, have you ever tried salmonberries?" All delicious and pink-y-red and tangy and fresh...
Damn, now he was getting hungry again. He reached over, stretching a little, to liberate a raspberry from the container.
He gave Neill a lazy double thumbs-up, leaning back in his chair and closing his notebook. "Dominic who is not allergic to any type of berry that he knows of. But I've never tried snozberries. Are they good?"
He'd also never heard of the name and there was a little logical bit of himself that suspected they might be fictional, but then, almost everyone he'd met has said the same thing about salmonberries and they were just the flipping best things he'd ever tasted, if you picked them at the right time. But he'd only ever seen them when he'd visited his aunt in Canada, and never could find them here.
Maybe Neill knew them. "Incidentally, have you ever tried salmonberries?" All delicious and pink-y-red and tangy and fresh...
Damn, now he was getting hungry again. He reached over, stretching a little, to liberate a raspberry from the container.
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xylophonefairy†
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Neill held a hand up to the proffered raspberries, and shook his head. Even if he wasn't allergic to them, he didn't have to like them, and indeed, Neill couldn't think of any fruit he actually did like, except perhaps for pears. Pears were passable.
"I don't know." he mumbled slightly in response to the snozberry question. "Roald Dahl made them up, I think, they're from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I think they're meant to be pretty sweet though. If I could ever jump into a book it would be that one."
He rubbed the back of his neck, there was a spot coming there, just on his hairline under the slightly too long mass of sandy brown hair. He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly, as Dominic mentioned salmonberries. Inwardly he shuddered, salmon was not his favourite fish, too orange and the smoked sort was far too slimy. He couldn't help but wonder how the salmonberry got it's name. A berry made from salmon? Logical, but unlikely. A berry often eaten by salmon. Also logical, and more possible, though Neill wasn't sure how many berries grew in the water.
"Not that I'm aware of," Neill replied, adding an air of mystery to his voice. "Though I've never heard of them. Or is it a code word for something really coomon, like a raspberry." He covered his mouth in mock horror. "Oh my God," he mimicked a girly squeal, "those raspberries are salmonberries, aren't they!"
He paused.
"I'm kidding. Do they actually exist or is that your counter to my snozberries?"
"I don't know." he mumbled slightly in response to the snozberry question. "Roald Dahl made them up, I think, they're from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I think they're meant to be pretty sweet though. If I could ever jump into a book it would be that one."
He rubbed the back of his neck, there was a spot coming there, just on his hairline under the slightly too long mass of sandy brown hair. He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly, as Dominic mentioned salmonberries. Inwardly he shuddered, salmon was not his favourite fish, too orange and the smoked sort was far too slimy. He couldn't help but wonder how the salmonberry got it's name. A berry made from salmon? Logical, but unlikely. A berry often eaten by salmon. Also logical, and more possible, though Neill wasn't sure how many berries grew in the water.
"Not that I'm aware of," Neill replied, adding an air of mystery to his voice. "Though I've never heard of them. Or is it a code word for something really coomon, like a raspberry." He covered his mouth in mock horror. "Oh my God," he mimicked a girly squeal, "those raspberries are salmonberries, aren't they!"
He paused.
"I'm kidding. Do they actually exist or is that your counter to my snozberries?"
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ifnotwinter†
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Dominic snagged the container of raspberries back after a moment, pulling them in closer to himself. He'd always been a total fruit-whore, often attempting to live on nothing but frozen fruit medleys for days at a time.
"Good to hear." He tossed a raspberry up and caught it neatly in his mouth, grinning brightly at Neill. "I think I'd cry if there was a fruit in the world that I hadn't eaten at one point or another."
But his face fell in (mock) sadness upon hearing that Neill didn't know what salmonberries were. "Oh, man...no, they exist. They look a lot like raspberries, but they're way pinker. I think they might have gotten their name 'cause they look a bit like cooked salmon, but don't hold me to that. And they're amazing. Seriously."
And he can never find them in stores, so he's forced to wait until the summer when they visited their extended Canadian family. It's horrible. Really. Terrible.
"Not a raspberry fan either, huh?" He popped another one in his mouth, looking slightly disappointed at the rapidly dwindling amount in the container. "You're not allergic too, are you?" He looked slightly panicked. "You're not going to like...stop breathing if I eat these?"
"Good to hear." He tossed a raspberry up and caught it neatly in his mouth, grinning brightly at Neill. "I think I'd cry if there was a fruit in the world that I hadn't eaten at one point or another."
But his face fell in (mock) sadness upon hearing that Neill didn't know what salmonberries were. "Oh, man...no, they exist. They look a lot like raspberries, but they're way pinker. I think they might have gotten their name 'cause they look a bit like cooked salmon, but don't hold me to that. And they're amazing. Seriously."
And he can never find them in stores, so he's forced to wait until the summer when they visited their extended Canadian family. It's horrible. Really. Terrible.
"Not a raspberry fan either, huh?" He popped another one in his mouth, looking slightly disappointed at the rapidly dwindling amount in the container. "You're not allergic too, are you?" He looked slightly panicked. "You're not going to like...stop breathing if I eat these?"
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chitoryu12†
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(Chris continued from Eating Out (Cleanly)))
Chris was finally out of that godforsaken French class. He hated the class with a passion; while he enjoyed the language and spoke it fairly well, the teacher was such a cross between overly-sweet and extremely strict that it made the class a ticking time bomb; she could go from praising the entire class for their hard work this semester to slamming desks around and screaming because somebody spoke English during a French-only part of class one too many times.
So after a quick trip to the bathroom and his locker to put his French binder and textbook in his locker, he took his lunch and headed down to the cafetorium.
Chris preferred taking his lunch as opposed to buying it. While his diet was a bit more monotonous due to the smaller choice present to him (He had to pick only what he could put in his lunch bag, and he could be a picky eater when it came to food that had been sitting in his backpack getting squished for four hours), he wasn't one for standing in long lines, and even his near-unlimited patience would be quickly thinned by line-cutters and people who were undecided for a good two minutes when they got to the front of the line.
He found his good friend, Dominic Stratford, sitting with another kid he didn't recognize too well at the far end of the room. From what little dialogue he caught with his lessened hearing (damn earwax buildup and loud music), he heard something about salmonberries and snozberries. For some reason, he wasn't surprised.
He dropped his soggy panini and Coke can on the table next to Dominic, and took a seat. "Okay," he said, "what in the nine levels of hell are you two going on about?"
Chris was finally out of that godforsaken French class. He hated the class with a passion; while he enjoyed the language and spoke it fairly well, the teacher was such a cross between overly-sweet and extremely strict that it made the class a ticking time bomb; she could go from praising the entire class for their hard work this semester to slamming desks around and screaming because somebody spoke English during a French-only part of class one too many times.
So after a quick trip to the bathroom and his locker to put his French binder and textbook in his locker, he took his lunch and headed down to the cafetorium.
Chris preferred taking his lunch as opposed to buying it. While his diet was a bit more monotonous due to the smaller choice present to him (He had to pick only what he could put in his lunch bag, and he could be a picky eater when it came to food that had been sitting in his backpack getting squished for four hours), he wasn't one for standing in long lines, and even his near-unlimited patience would be quickly thinned by line-cutters and people who were undecided for a good two minutes when they got to the front of the line.
He found his good friend, Dominic Stratford, sitting with another kid he didn't recognize too well at the far end of the room. From what little dialogue he caught with his lessened hearing (damn earwax buildup and loud music), he heard something about salmonberries and snozberries. For some reason, he wasn't surprised.
He dropped his soggy panini and Coke can on the table next to Dominic, and took a seat. "Okay," he said, "what in the nine levels of hell are you two going on about?"
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ifnotwinter†
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"Berries," Dominic informed him brightly, pushing the container in Chris's direction. "Neill's brother is allergic."
He indicated Neill with one hand, using the other to shove a pile of books off the table and onto the floor. "To raspberries, anyway. I was just making sure that Neill wasn't going to stop breathing and die if I ate these around him, but it hasn't happened yet so I'm going to assume that he's safe."
He leaned back in his chair, glancing between the other two boys. He wasn't entirely sure if they knew each other, but introducing two people who did know each other was always a little...awkward. Hopefully they'd take care of it.
"Anyway, anything's better then talking about bio. Or doing my bio homework, for that matter."
He indicated Neill with one hand, using the other to shove a pile of books off the table and onto the floor. "To raspberries, anyway. I was just making sure that Neill wasn't going to stop breathing and die if I ate these around him, but it hasn't happened yet so I'm going to assume that he's safe."
He leaned back in his chair, glancing between the other two boys. He wasn't entirely sure if they knew each other, but introducing two people who did know each other was always a little...awkward. Hopefully they'd take care of it.
"Anyway, anything's better then talking about bio. Or doing my bio homework, for that matter."
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chitoryu12†
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Chris took a few raspberries from the container. He wasn't much of a berry guy, but he liked them. "Well, if he dies, I get any cash he has!" he said.
He looked at the other boy. Didn't look too threatening, to be honest. No harm in making new friends, he decided. And if he got along well with Dominic, then Neil would surely be no trouble. Though to be honest, the guy looked a little.....egotistical. He carried himself and had the twinkle in his eye of a guy who thought highly of himself.
Still, he didn't need to be rude to this guy. Chris had learned quickly enough that his mouth should stay closed until his brain caught up with it. An unfortunate case with a pretty girl in his geometry class two years ago was enough to make him slow himself down.
So he said "Hi, I'm Chris. I'm a friend of Dominic's," extending his hand.
He looked at the other boy. Didn't look too threatening, to be honest. No harm in making new friends, he decided. And if he got along well with Dominic, then Neil would surely be no trouble. Though to be honest, the guy looked a little.....egotistical. He carried himself and had the twinkle in his eye of a guy who thought highly of himself.
Still, he didn't need to be rude to this guy. Chris had learned quickly enough that his mouth should stay closed until his brain caught up with it. An unfortunate case with a pretty girl in his geometry class two years ago was enough to make him slow himself down.
So he said "Hi, I'm Chris. I'm a friend of Dominic's," extending his hand.
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xylophonefairy†
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Neill took the hand that Chris offered amicably and shook it firmly. He gave what he dubbed a "gameshow hosts" wink and drew back.
"I'm Robertson," he said, affecting a strangely booming deep voice, "Neill Robertson. Not to be confused with my accomplice Bond, who is naturally inferior in almost every capacity." Neill grinned, forgetting that Dominic had already kind of introduced him, while flashing white teeth. He brought his hands together to make a gun shape, which he waved briefly around the table before dropping his hands to his knees and rubbing them. His palms were strangely sweaty, possibly from the anxiety produced from meeting two new people. Neill wasn't as naturally gregarious as he pretended to be.
Chris looked nice enough, though Neill was never sure what to make of people who shook the hands of people their own age in the school cafetorium of all places. He was either depressingly well brought up (Neill wasn't sure his Dad even knew what a handshake was), achingly awkward or somehow time machined from twenty years ago. Still, as Chris had done moments before, Neill decided not to pass any judgement on the situation.
"So," Neill said quickly, realising that he should probably show his more normal side. "Chris, who it appears is after my money" Neill winked at the guy whom he'd barely even seen around before but was apparantely friendly with Dominic; he still felt like a game show host. "And Dominic, who isn't allergic to berries and enjoys salmonberries, and which I shall have to make a point of trying someday, what do you guys like to do in your free time?"
"I'm Robertson," he said, affecting a strangely booming deep voice, "Neill Robertson. Not to be confused with my accomplice Bond, who is naturally inferior in almost every capacity." Neill grinned, forgetting that Dominic had already kind of introduced him, while flashing white teeth. He brought his hands together to make a gun shape, which he waved briefly around the table before dropping his hands to his knees and rubbing them. His palms were strangely sweaty, possibly from the anxiety produced from meeting two new people. Neill wasn't as naturally gregarious as he pretended to be.
Chris looked nice enough, though Neill was never sure what to make of people who shook the hands of people their own age in the school cafetorium of all places. He was either depressingly well brought up (Neill wasn't sure his Dad even knew what a handshake was), achingly awkward or somehow time machined from twenty years ago. Still, as Chris had done moments before, Neill decided not to pass any judgement on the situation.
"So," Neill said quickly, realising that he should probably show his more normal side. "Chris, who it appears is after my money" Neill winked at the guy whom he'd barely even seen around before but was apparantely friendly with Dominic; he still felt like a game show host. "And Dominic, who isn't allergic to berries and enjoys salmonberries, and which I shall have to make a point of trying someday, what do you guys like to do in your free time?"
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chitoryu12†
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The kid seemed funny. Chris had met plenty of guys with a sense of humor, but rarely one that touched off on Chris as well as Neil's did. He particularly liked the James Bond joke, seeing as how he was quite the Bond fan.
"Well," Chris said, "I spend most of my time playing video games or participating in the great sport of arguing sci-fi on the Internet! And on occasion, I write. I'm a fanfiction writer with about a dozen stories to my name, all but one incomplete, and all with good reviews. Then again, I've never held my FanFiction.net companions in high regard, so I take the praise of 13-year-old girls with a grain of salt at best."
"Now," he continued, "what about you, Mr. Robertson? Aside from putting down Double-O Seven, what do you do for fun?"
"Well," Chris said, "I spend most of my time playing video games or participating in the great sport of arguing sci-fi on the Internet! And on occasion, I write. I'm a fanfiction writer with about a dozen stories to my name, all but one incomplete, and all with good reviews. Then again, I've never held my FanFiction.net companions in high regard, so I take the praise of 13-year-old girls with a grain of salt at best."
"Now," he continued, "what about you, Mr. Robertson? Aside from putting down Double-O Seven, what do you do for fun?"
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ifnotwinter†
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"Hey," Dominic said, with a faux-aggrieved look on his face. "I've praised you before, and I'm pretty sure I'm not a 13-year-old girl."
Turning back to Neill, he grinned. "Me, I don't do a lot - schoolwork, looking after my sister...um, taking care of whatever foster animals happen to be hanging around my house...my life's pretty boring."
Although he'd always been pretty content with it. He closed the book in front of him and raised an eyebrow at Neill.
"Anyhow, Chris's right. What do you do when not taunting British secret agents?"
Turning back to Neill, he grinned. "Me, I don't do a lot - schoolwork, looking after my sister...um, taking care of whatever foster animals happen to be hanging around my house...my life's pretty boring."
Although he'd always been pretty content with it. He closed the book in front of him and raised an eyebrow at Neill.
"Anyhow, Chris's right. What do you do when not taunting British secret agents?"
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((Enter Sarah Atwell))
Sarah checked the time on her watch. Plenty of time still at lunch she should still be able to get a few more people filmed before the bell rang. God knows she hadn't done much already. Opening her notebook up to the second page she scrawled down the list - Calvallini, Cann, Carlson. Christopher Carlson. Mikaela said that he'd be around here 'cause she had french with him.
Sarah looked around the cafetorium until her gaze rested on the three boys on the table flooded with books. There he was - tall, mysterious and just a little intimidating. Clicking her pen absentmindedly Sarah strode off to their table, her right hand reaching in to her bag to pull out her video camera, flicking it to record mode with a practiced grace.
"...not taunting British secret agents?"
Sarah paused tentatively for a second. "huh?" she thought to herself. "A British secret agent? Time to turn on the charm." Breathing in deeply she tapped Chris on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, hey guys. she grinned mischeviously, "sorry for the interruption, but I'm filming for the school end of trip, I was wondering if you handsome young gentlemen would mind saying some stuff for the camera and answering a few questions?"
Sarah blinked prettily, putting on her best "bambi eyes" as she suggestively shook the camera in her hand, pointing it at the trio, which she had already pressed the record button to, although they didn't need to know that.
Sarah checked the time on her watch. Plenty of time still at lunch she should still be able to get a few more people filmed before the bell rang. God knows she hadn't done much already. Opening her notebook up to the second page she scrawled down the list - Calvallini, Cann, Carlson. Christopher Carlson. Mikaela said that he'd be around here 'cause she had french with him.
Sarah looked around the cafetorium until her gaze rested on the three boys on the table flooded with books. There he was - tall, mysterious and just a little intimidating. Clicking her pen absentmindedly Sarah strode off to their table, her right hand reaching in to her bag to pull out her video camera, flicking it to record mode with a practiced grace.
"...not taunting British secret agents?"
Sarah paused tentatively for a second. "huh?" she thought to herself. "A British secret agent? Time to turn on the charm." Breathing in deeply she tapped Chris on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, hey guys. she grinned mischeviously, "sorry for the interruption, but I'm filming for the school end of trip, I was wondering if you handsome young gentlemen would mind saying some stuff for the camera and answering a few questions?"
Sarah blinked prettily, putting on her best "bambi eyes" as she suggestively shook the camera in her hand, pointing it at the trio, which she had already pressed the record button to, although they didn't need to know that.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fanatic. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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chitoryu12†
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:07 am
Chris was waiting for Neil's response when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He got a bit nervous immediately; people normally didn't tap him on the shoulder unless they had something important or bad to say to him, as opposed to his friends, who usually just gave him a slap on the back or kick in the ass, depending on who they were and what their relationship was.
When he turned, the first thing he saw was a state-of-the-art black Sony-made camcorder. Changing his focus to look past the lens, he saw a very pretty, slightly tanned girl with big brown eyes staring intently at him. He could have sworn he recognized her. Sarah Atwell, he suddenly remembered. She had done a few shows with him before.
"Excuse me, hey guys." she said with a grin, "sorry for the interruption, but I'm filming for the school end of trip, I was wondering if you handsome young gentlemen would mind saying some stuff for the camera and answering a few questions?"
Well, Chris didn't have a problem with that. He wasn't interviewed much, other than that one time in his junior year when he imitated a frog for the school news. Besides, Chris always had a weakness for pretty girls, especially ones who gave him the Bambi look. That always made him turn to mush.
"Sure!" he said. "Not a problem. What do you have in mind?" he said, spinning in his seat and leaning back against the table, his preferred pose for talking to people behind him while he was sitting. He always thought it exuded an air of coolness.
When he turned, the first thing he saw was a state-of-the-art black Sony-made camcorder. Changing his focus to look past the lens, he saw a very pretty, slightly tanned girl with big brown eyes staring intently at him. He could have sworn he recognized her. Sarah Atwell, he suddenly remembered. She had done a few shows with him before.
"Excuse me, hey guys." she said with a grin, "sorry for the interruption, but I'm filming for the school end of trip, I was wondering if you handsome young gentlemen would mind saying some stuff for the camera and answering a few questions?"
Well, Chris didn't have a problem with that. He wasn't interviewed much, other than that one time in his junior year when he imitated a frog for the school news. Besides, Chris always had a weakness for pretty girls, especially ones who gave him the Bambi look. That always made him turn to mush.
"Sure!" he said. "Not a problem. What do you have in mind?" he said, spinning in his seat and leaning back against the table, his preferred pose for talking to people behind him while he was sitting. He always thought it exuded an air of coolness.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler chitoryu12. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.