Posts by Smartii

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If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

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    [font=georgia][size=7pt][color=black]Character
    The Insomniac


    Name
    Mark Robson


    Sexuality
    Pansexual


    Appearance
    There's a certain air around looming sky-scrapers, one demanding to be noticed. An air, similar to that around Mark. Towering heights, a stocky build, it all just.. strikes immediate intimidation really.
    His impressive standing isn't one he loathes, however, as it suits him in every way. Doubled with his firm build, he almost seems sculpted of 'hammered gold and gold enameling', something to be found on a pedestal in the center of the Great Hall atop Mt Olympus.


    Shoulders, broadened over the years, arms and legs toned lean, and a torso of rocked muscles, it's as if the guy resides only in the gym. It all contributes to the aforementioned intimidating air.


    Captivating azure-blue, though at times borderline greyish, eyes are indeed that, captivating. Beginning a deep, stormy grey around his pupils, and also at the outer rims of his irises, the shade and colour change drastically travelling inward, reaching a shade of light blue, that though unexpected, all the complimentary. Very faint purple flecks slightly brighten the constantly thoughtful grey shade of his eyes, but are only seen in certain lights.
    It's just as well that his short, close-cut locks don a dark brown shade, almost darkening his entire appearance. Dark, bistre-brown hair, naturally curly if grown out, decorates Mark's crown, in its rugged glory.


    A hard-chiseled jaw and cheekbones, rather angular features, complete his dark and mysterious appearance. Summing him up perfectly.


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    A change in scenery will be good..


    Chris jolted awake, violently, but the duvet of his new double bed was weighted enough to keep him from a full spasm. His Father's voice, telling him that a move to Florida would do him some good, was slowly dissipating, being replace by the sharp beeping of his alarm clock. Reaching his right hand over to the bed-side table with intentions of murdering the alarm, he used his left to rub the grogginess of sleep from his eyes. A deep breath escaped his open lips as he scanned the near-bare dorm room; this will take some getting used to.


    A few months previous, Chris' Dad brought him into their way-too-big a living room, sat him down, and told him he'd be sending his son to a boarding school, across the freaking country. Ever since his Mother left, his Father had never been the same, and of that, they were both aware. He grew distant, mind-numbingly quiet, and piling that on top of his Dad being a Cardiovascular surgeon, they barely ever saw each other. His Father, however, noticed the impact on his son, and decided to send his son to a good boarding school, where he'd hopefully be able to make friends, and start over. What his Dad didn't know, however, was that running away wouldn't solve their problems.


    Florida was okay, so far. Much more lively than small hometown in Arizona that's for sure. But Chris had yet to see the 'good' his Father said would come after moving. It was first day attending classes, and he'd already slept in. He'd never done incredibly well in School, but he didn't want to get off at a bad start.
    Slipping out from under the duvet, and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, Chris readied himself for what the day had in store. He was thankful for the idea of showering the night before, because now, it just wasn't an option, as he crossed the dorm room, bare-chested and dressed only in boxers, to his wardrobe.


    In minutes, fully-clothed and freshened-up, Chris slung his empty bag over his right shoulder and was off to Maths, with a quick pit-stop at his locker to get his stuff. He'd been present for orientation the day before and knew where most classes were by now, so the trip to his classroom was short. Sighing silently, he turned the handle and was met by an annoyed expression plastered across the face of whom he assumed was the Maths teacher.


    "Just take a seat..", she spoke, sounding almost defeated, to which Chris replied with an amused and silent scoff, as he made his way to an empty desk in the fifth row.








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    Steady breathing, steady breathing..
    Sara's thoughts were a constant flow, as she ducked under branches and side-stepped obstacles on the forest floor. Morning jogs were a necessity in her life, especially on the first at a new school. She needed the fresh air, and the exercise to calm the nerves. Not that she had any. Or any that she'd admit to having, that is.


    Being the last of four children, she had grown up doing what her older siblings did, and because each was the stereotypical, energetic, sporty kind of boy, she followed in their sporty footsteps. Though it didn't stop her from activities like ballet, more so encouraged a very active lifestyle, for which she was very grateful. With no sister, and a Mother who didn't exactly approve of Sara's "boyish behavior", exercising really was her only form of stress-release, and she'd almost cried out with joy when she was told that, on the school grounds, was a large forest the students were able to explore.


    Music streamed from her ear-buds and with her playlist coming to an end, Sara realised she'd been jogging for an hour already. She cut sharply to the right, toward the faint image of the school, her eyes wandering to her wrist to read the time on her watch. She swore inwardly to herself, realising it was very likely she'd be late for her first class.


    * * * *


    "Crap crap crap.."
    Sara sped out of the bathroom of her new dorm, steam from the shower curling like snakes around the open door. Has to be the fastest shower ever, she thought to herself as she threw on a light yellow blouse and jeans, and desperately tried to jump-start the drying of her hair, but soon realising it was worthless. Deciding she didn't care if the other students noticed her dripping hair, she grabbed her bag, pre-packed with books for the first few classes, and made her down to her first class, Maths.
    Catching glimpse of a tall boy in a blue tee and shorts entering the classroom, she darted in his direction, catching the door before he had the chance to close it. Fortunately the teacher didn't seem to care all that much as the two walked in, and Sara decided against questioning it, as she took a seat in the second row.