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Post by DAVID 'ZEPPELIN' MATTHEWS on Aug 29, 2011 16:21:04 GMT -5
Zeppelin was sitting at a table on his own in the café. He was sipping green tea and furiously scribbling down lyrics that had been bouncing around in his head for days and days. He couldn’t quite grasp what it was he was trying to say but he’d written the tune for this song over a month ago and it was getting ridiculous that he hadn’t managed to write any lyrics for it. “Maybe it’s supposed to be an instrumental.” He whispered to himself under his breath which inspired a rather alarmed look from the woman at the table next to him. He raised his hand as a sort of half wave which only seemed to offend her more. He heard her mutter something like, “Lousy beatnik” and realised that his long hair was working against him yet again. He sighed slightly and swirled his teabag around the cup.
It had been a couple of weeks since Zeppelin had written anything good, a month since he’d written anything excellent. He was beginning to panic. He had begun wearing a lot of blue in hopes that it would boost his expression Chakra but it just led to him being more talkative towards other people and hadn’t really helped his writing in any way. He pulled down the front of his blue t-shirt and shrugged off his blue plaid shirt as he was beginning to feel a little too warm. He sat back in his chair and studied the page of scored out writing hoping he’d missed something good. He hadn’t.
Sometimes he wondered why he’d left home. In Northern Ireland he’d been consistently surrounded with inspirational musicians who had helped him with his music. Zepp had left Northern Ireland five weeks ago on a tourist visa to the country and no real plan as to how he was going to get to the USA. He only had a week before he had to renew his tourist visa and work out how he was going to become a permanent resident of the United States without having to marry someone. He supposed that America would bring him his big break, but it was doing nothing of the sort. He was entirely unknown in Canada, at least back home he had a consistent string of work.
Zeppelin lifted his phone and decided to text his best friend Rachel: “I miss you girl. PLE Z X” Zeppelin always signed his messages PLE Z which meant: Peace, Love, Empathy, Zeppelin. He had done since he first read Kurt Cobain’s suicide note when he was twelve years old and decided echoing it made him cool and mysterious. Zeppelin drained the end of his tea, got to his feet and ordered another one, shelling out five dollars for the honour of a teabag and a cup of boiling water and then returning to his seat.
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tag rachel
! word count four hundred and sixty five ooc less rambly and long that the original post I wrote for you lolol!
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Post by ROISIN DOROTHY WILSON on Aug 29, 2011 18:32:43 GMT -5
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- word count 647 outfit here notes but rambly is so delightful haha---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She had only arrived in White Boat a couple of days, but already Roisin Wilson had established that her favourite place was the beach. After she spent a great deal of her first day sleeping off jet lag in the hostel she had booked into, Roisin had taken herselfout on a wander and come across the beach after half an hour. She had sat down on a bench facing the water and just stayed there for a couple of hours, taking in the view, people watching, and trying to figure out what the fuck her plan was going to be now that she was actually in Canada. She had ignored several calls from her worried mother and friends that didn't know she'd left, but ignored all of them for fear homesickness would kick in and she would completely regret leaving Northern Ireland. The beach had been her planned destination for the day, so Roisin bought a bottle of orange juice and some cigarettes, then headed for the shore.
When she arrived at the beach and settled down on the bench, Roisin suddenly became glad that she had decided to wear a jumper and jeans. Although it wasn't quite autumn yet the weather was cool, granted it wasn't Northern Ireland cold, but it was cold enough. She pulled her legs up to her chest and lit a cigarette in an effort to warm herself up. She wasn't enjoying life as much as she thought she would in a new land so far, although Roisin scolded herself when she thought that; she had only been in the country for two days, it was no time to judge. And really, she knew the reason she wasn't enjoying it so far was because she hadn't let Zeppelin know of her presence yet and so hadn't seen the one person she had travelled halfway around the world to see.
Roisin finished off a second cigarette before deciding that she couldn't be dealing with the coolness of sitting beside the water. This left her with another issue; where did she go in an unknown town? She could go back to the hostel, but she couldn't be bothered sitting in her room on her own or talking to backpackers that would probably just try and tell her about their hiking gear. Roisin decided to go with the wonderfully risky option of wandering through the town and hoping for the best. She picked a direction and let her feet make the rest of the decisions, only stopping to light a new cigarette or take a swig of her juice. As she walked past the local school, well she presumed it was a school, Roisin felt a the familiar vibration of her phone in her pocket. Surprised, she took her phone out and slid the screen up. Her eyes prickled when she saw the sender was Zeppelin. She was tempted to call him there and then when she read the text declaring he missed her, but part of Roisin was still scared that when she phoned him he would be horrified and call her a stalker.
As she tried to figure out how she was going to reply to Zeppelin's text, Roisin carried on her walk. After ten more minutes of dandering she found her decision made for her. She had been casually glancing in through the windows of shops, and when she glanced into a coffee shop she noticed a familiar mop of long brown hair, and as he moved his head it was confirmed to Roisin that it did, in fact, belong to her best friend. She finished her cigarette and stubbed it out, the pushed the door open to the coffee shop. As she entered, Zeppelin continued to stare at his notebook, allowing her the element of surprise. She approached the table and stood behind the seat opposite Zeppelin before saying cheerfully, "You're such a ginnie ann, texting me that you miss me." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Post by DAVID 'ZEPPELIN' MATTHEWS on Aug 29, 2011 19:15:04 GMT -5
Zeppelin ran his fingers through the roots of his long hair on the right side and then sighed heavily. It was hard being a musician. He was reminded of this on a daily basis. The struggles of writing music and being creative all the time was such a strain. If he didn’t love it so much he would have gone for a more practical job like carpentry or something similar. If he wasn’t a musician he’d be a tradesman. He supposed being a musician was a trade.
After a few moments Zeppelin felt a vibration of what felt like electricity ripple through his body and he suddenly began writing – he was more inspired than he had been all month. Sometimes texting someone, expressing yourself, opened doors to other forms of expression like writing music. Zeppelin smiled at the fact that the universe hadn’t failed him and that blue Chakra boosting had worked out well for him. He didn’t know what he would have thought if it hadn’t worked.
He was scribbling furiously on the page, scared that if he stopped for even a second he’d forget the potentially platinum lyrics that were pouring onto the paper in front of him. God, he loved it when this happened. When things just worked out of him and he was inspired. This was the thing about music that Zeppelin loved. He could almost imagine the performances already, see the lights, see the people lining the room who weren’t sure what to make of him but were sure they liked him. This song could be the one, he thought to himself.
Zeppelin finished writing and stared at the page, his hand still resting on the notebook itself as he re-read what he’d just written with a smile on his face. Suddenly someone was addressing him, a voice too familiar for him to immediately place. His heart was screaming “Rachel?” but his brain was replying “in Canada?” in an incredulous sort of voice that made Zeppelin feel a little bit irritated. He looked up and it was Rachel. How was this possible? She was standing right in front of him, right when he’d needed her. Astra projection? No, he wouldn’t be able to see her if she was astral projecting and he would have moved if he was astral projecting. Which left one possibility: She was real.
“Ruh-” He just about managed to say before his body took over. He was on his feet and lunging across the table before he even knew what had happened to him. He knocked over his half full cup of green tea as he crushed his best friend in the whole world almost to death. “Rachel.” He finished, he held her at arms length and just looked at her, an intense look, Zeppelin didn’t go for half ass looks. “You’re here?” He meant to just state it but it sounded like a question. “Do you want some tea or coffee or anything?” He asked, immediately relaxing in her company.
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tag rachel word count five hundred ooc round numbers are fun numbers C:
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Post by ROISIN DOROTHY WILSON on Aug 29, 2011 20:01:41 GMT -5
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- word count 530 outfit here---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roisin couldn't help but laugh when she saw the look of confusion etched into Zeppelin's features. She supposed she would have looked much the same if she were in his situation; it wasn't everyday your best friend appeared out of nowhere in another country. It then occurred to Roisin that she probably should at least feel the same as Zeppelin, after all she had just run into him completely unexpectedly, if you forgot the fact she went to find him. Her thoughts were starting to contradict one another, and though Roisin wasn't an idiot she had managed to confuse herself by considering it. Maybe she couldn't be shocked at finding him so soon because the happiness she felt didn't allow for anything else.
When Zeppelin finally managed to utter some semblance of a word, it was quickly interrupted by a hug that scared the bejesus out of her. He completely ignored the furniture that sat between the two of them in order to pull Roisin into a hug, and though she had a chair digging into her stomach Roisin ignored it for the familiar comfort of her best friends arms around her. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder, feeling relief and strangely at home for the first time in weeks. She lifted her head after a second or two and noticed that quite a few other patrons in the coffee shop were staring at the pair, it probably wasn't everyday two foreign young people bear hugged over a table.
Although she promised herself she wasn't going to act like a typical big girl over the situation, as Zeppelin said simply 'Rachel' she couldn't help but tear up. As much as Roisin loathed it, she also strangely missed they way he couldn't pronounce her name and substituted it for something easier. As he held her at arms length and took a look at her, the tears managed to escape and spill over onto Roisin's cheeks. She wiped her eyes with with the sleeve of her jumper and dabbed underneath her eyes, trying to avoid having black smeared down her face. "You're here?" Zeppelin asked. Roisin couldn't help but laugh, "Of course I'm here! Who else would it be?"
Roisin took her headphones off from around her neck and stuffed them into her handbag, exchanging it for her purse. "I'll get the drinks. I take it you'll be having another since you so kindly gave that one to the table"? Roisin joked, nodding towards the tipped over green tea from Zeppelin's enthusiastic hug. She went up to the counter and bought a green tea and a milky coffee. Roisin briefly panicked when she realised she was terrible at carrying full cups, and had no choice but to walk back to the table at a snails pace in order to ensure the drinks didn't go all over her. She set Zeppelin's tea down in front of him, and the coffee at the other side before sitting down and setting her bag down on the floor. "How goes it?" Roisin asked, figuring it was a general enough question for him to fill her in on his Canadian adventures so far. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Post by DAVID 'ZEPPELIN' MATTHEWS on Sept 1, 2011 11:03:29 GMT -5
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Zeppelin was so convinced that if even for a moment, he looked away from her she would disappear. How could this be true? How could she be here? This was amazing, phenomenal, perfection. Rachel was in White Boat. How did that make any sense? She asked him a rhetorical question, mocked the consequences of his earlier behaviour and then flounced off to get some more drinks. He just sat there, entirely stunned, his mind racing so fast that he thought he was getting a stitch in his brain. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to work out what was going on. Was it just him or was this a ridiculous situation? He was pretty sure it wasn’t just him.
Zeppelin smiled widely when she rejoined him at the table, he wasn’t sure what else to do. He didn’t want her to know that he was freaked out. He just didn’t want her to think that he wasn’t happy to see her – because he was happy to see her, ecstatic actually. He just didn’t know how to communicate that effectively any more. He supposed it was the shock. “How goes it?” She asked him as casually as if they were in her shed in Northern Ireland rather than a café in Canada. “I’ve just been chillin’ about.” He told her with a nonchalant shrug, “I haven’t made it big yet, haven’t made it to the States yet…” He bit his lip ever so slightly, a single tooth pressing against his lower lip. He looked at her urgently but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. He felt so helpless, by asking that simple question he’d realised that he’d accomplished nothing so far and it wasn’t going well.
Zepp sighed slightly and leant back in his chair and studied his best friend. How was he supposed to deal with this situation? He couldn’t even work out what he felt about it. He leant across the table towards her, staring deeply into his eyes, his long dark hair fell forwards over his shoulders and pooled onto the table. “So help me out here, how did you get here?” He said eventually in a drawling voice with a smile on his face. He meant it in a friendly good way but he wasn’t sure if it sounded too aggressive or questioning. He smiled at her again and then took a sip of his green tea.
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tag rachel word count four hundred and thirteen ooc I am bad at writing lots of words when I’m tired.
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Post by ROISIN DOROTHY WILSON on Sept 1, 2011 14:31:50 GMT -5
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- word count 504 outfit here notes poor sleepy catfish, at least you replied (:---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you wanted to make it in the States you should have went to the states, you daft mare," Roisin told him, as though she were a wise old owl rather than just a teenager who was stating what she thought to be the obvious. she cocked her head slightly and looked at Zeppelin as he bit his lip, feeling bad for her oh so impatient friend. "Cheer up, Charlie!" Roisin said brightly, reaching over the table to sock Zeppelin in the shoulder. "Rome wasn't built in a day and all that jazz!" In her head, Roisin groaned after those words came out of her mouth. It was a phrase she had heard from her mother when she was younger, and doing anything that in any way related to her mother wasn't making her a happy bear. "Have you had any shows yet out here? You can busk over here without a license, right? Have you tried that to get yourself a bit of attention?"
Roisin took her mug in both hands and took a drink from the coffee, glancing up mid-sip in interest as Zeppelin leant across the table to her. She rested her elbows on the table and held the mug as she listened to his question. She took another quick sip then set the mug down before answering the question of how she got to be in Canada. "Well," Roisin began, "It all started with a night drinking in Donegan's. I had a few too many Captain Morgan's and, well, I can't really remember the rest of the night. The next day I woke up on a ferry to France. From there I made a friend who drove me to Poland, and introduced me to another friend of his there. With this new friend in Poland I proceeded to backpack across Russia, a small flight later and some more backpacking, and here I am!" Roisin picked her coffee up again and had a drink of it, before looking at Zeppelin with an amused smile dancing on her lips. "You buying it?"
Roisin set the mug down again and leant back in her chair, keeping her arms rested on the table to play with the mug handle while she spoke. "Truth be told, I lost the head. I needed to leave so I booked a flight." It was pretty obvious that she had booked a flight to Canada to see Zeppelin, but Roisin felt like she couldn't actually add that into her true explanation because it made her sound like a creep. "I kinda wish the backpacking thing was the real story. It sounds pretty fun. Ewan McGregor and that other fella did much the same trip on 'The Long Way Round', right?" Roisin vaguely remembered watching it when it first came on television, but it had been a while ago so she hadn't the foggiest if she was right or not. Roisin sat forward again and took another drink of her coffee. "So what're you working on?" She asked, nodding at Zeppelin's notebook.
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Post by DAVID 'ZEPPELIN' MATTHEWS on Sept 19, 2011 7:37:05 GMT -5
Zeppelin shrugged his shoulders slightly at her rather lame attempt at comforting: “Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that jazz.” He leant back in his chair, holding his green tea mug in his hands and staring at the pale coloured water with intensity that wasn’t fitting. She asked about shows and he felt a little embarrassed when he had to admit, “I dropped a couple of demos into some restaurants with live music and bars but I’ve heard nothing back yet.” He sighed slightly and then shrugged his shoulders, “I haven’t really looked into busking. I’m so used to having a partner when I’m playing live.” He hoped it didn’t look like he was hinting because he didn’t want Rachel to feel like she had to start singing along to his guitaring when he was in the streets of White Boat.
A deep frown occupied the space between Zeppelin’s eyebrows as he listened to her fictional tale of how she got to White Boat. He pretty much believed her until she mentioned backpacking across Russia which Zeppelin was certain would take longer than a month because Russia took up so much of the globe. He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head when she asked, “You buying it?” He scoffed slightly and leant towards her again, “You had me until Russia.” He admitted, “You’re one of those people who gets into crazy shit like waking up on a boat to France.” He scratched his neck and took another sip of his green tea.
Peering at her from under his dark lashes, Zeppelin didn’t know how to react to the truthful tale of Rachel’s Journey to White Boat. He was saved the trouble of having to react by her quick paced conversational twists and turns as she went from wistfully admitting she wished the fictitious tale was true and then asking him about his notebook in front of him. Zeppelin smiled; something he could talk about without feeling like failure. “When I arrived here I wrote a beautiful melody, I mean it was exceptional, and now I’m just attempting to write some lyrics to go with it but I just can’t capture the mood.” He sighed slightly and gathered all his hair together like a ponytail before letting it drop again, “It’s probably just going to end up being an instrumental, it’s good by itself.” He shrugged and smiled at her. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” He told her, clasping his hand over one of hers and just looking at her desperately.
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Post by ROISIN DOROTHY WILSON on Sept 27, 2011 14:40:39 GMT -5
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- word count 552 outfit here---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roisin shot her friend a sympathetic smile and tried to think of something to say that would cheer him up. She understood completely how much it bummed someone out to not hear back about demos, and being that she hadn't quite figured out how to deal with that rejection herself she wasn't sure what more to say to Zeppelin. "Guess you just have to listen to the old saying good things come to those who wait. Anyway, maybe they just need more time." Roisin had been irritated in the past when she had been given that motivational talk, but it was all she could think of at that moment in time. Her sympathetic smile broadened into a grin when Zeppelin admitted he hadn't been busking because he had no partner. "Well I came just in time then, didn't I? I missed playing with you for all of the few weeks that I didn't have you around." Roisin took a sip of her coffee and had to swallow quickly to avoid doing a spit take when she realised what she said. "Oh my God," she laughed, "That was so innocent in my head!"
Roisin's eyebrows raised quickly in surprise when he admitted that he had believed part of her tale. His explanation that she was the type of girl to get into strange scenarios like boats to France earned him a look of mock shock, "How very dare you, good sir. I have become a sensible and responsible character in my old age!" After a few seconds of contemplation she quickly followed the sentence up with, "Ah well that's utter shite. I should have sailed to White Boat or some shit. It's more interesting than coming in an airplane." She was fairly certain you could sail to Canada. Roisin knew there were boats than ran from America to the UK, but she wasn't sure if one would take her to Canada. It was something she made a mental note to look up when she got internet access.
"Want me to try and come up with something if you still can't think of anything in a few days?" Roisin was getting rusty in the old writing department, and even if Zeppelin looked at them, laughed and then fed the page to a goat, Roisin fancied having a go at coming up with some lyrics. Plus it would be cool for them to have put a song together in a new place, even if Zeppelin had started writing it without knowing she was going to show up. Roisin smiled when Zeppelin placed his hand over on of hers, and turned her own hand over so she could hold his loosely. "Neither can I really. I'm scared that in a few days it's going to hit me that I left home and I'll just cry uncontrollably like an oddball." Roisin wasn't looking forward to talking to her parents either, which was going to be an inevitability because they didn't know she had left the country and were probably getting phone calls on the house phone from people she was ignoring on her mobile. "I'm really glad I found you, Zepp..." Roisin said with a small smile, her eyes starting to water as she thought about how happy she was to have him in walking distance again.
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