AuntFlavia

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

We get tornadoes and floods too. Hooray! Let's trade spots Auntie Flav! I'd rather be in NY with my ldr love :c

@MissCapnCrunch

I couldn't bear to be anywhere else but New York State, and I especially couldn't go anywhere that didn't make a decent chicken wing. :S

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

Well, then Aaron will consider that a win.

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

He'd better go fishin'. *crosses arms*

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

I'll take snow over hurricanes and tornados any day. :P Also yes, Aaron is a big ol goof

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

I always figured that if I didn't live here in western new york then I'd live in Minnesota.

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

Aaron stopped in his tracks when he heard Reyna call out to them, asking them to be in a group together. He didn't even have to think about it; more people meant more fun. Besides, there was something a touch depressing about going on a ferris wheel by yourself. “Yeah, I don't mind. No point in going to a carnival by yourself anyway.” Aaron said with a smile. Anything to cheer the poor kid up. He saw with a bit of relief that he wasn't the only one up for an adventure with strangers. The young mother with her kid and her dog had also stopped and was now talking to Reyna about being a group. The kid in the hoodie and the albino had also stopped. Suddenly, the small boy trudged-ran over to him, with that certain gait only toddlers could have. Before Aaron could say anything the kid announced, “hi. Those boys were mean. Mommy says girlfriends are special, but it's okay. Girls are icky anyway.” Aaron could feel his ears turning red, but he also couldn't do anything to stop the sheepish grin forming on his face. “I know, cooties right?” he said to the little boy, liking this kid more and more by the second. As the boy and his mother introduced themselves in quite possibly the most adorable way possible, Aaron decided that he had a new mission tonight. To make sure that their little group, especially Jackson, had as much fun as possible. “My name's Aaron.” he said, waving shyly from the hip. “That's two a's, not an e. I'd love to be in a group with you guys. Besides,” he began, looking at Jackson cheerfully, “I think I know someone who'd like to play the fishy game.” When everyone was settled and ready, Aaron decided to lead the way, gazing around him to look for the booth he wanted. The cozy dirt path crunched underneath his feet as carnival games and music played around them. Eye attracting lights flashed all around, advertising their kid-friendly games. In the distance, he heard the sound of one of those 'test your strength' games. Soon the stand he was looking for came into view. A large water filled tub stood under an awning, with little plastic fish floating around in a circle. A tired looking attendant stood by the game, guarding the small plastic fishing rods. A line of stuffed toys and prizes hung under the awning along with a sign that read: 1 TICKET FOR 3 TRIES KIDS 6 AND UNDER FISH UNTIL THEY WIN! “Okay, boys and girls.” Aaron turned around while still walking and announced to their rag tag little group, “The first and only rule of the fishy game is: You're never too old to play the fishy game! You can play something else, that's totally fine. If you think you're 'too cool' for this one, I certainly won't think any less of you.” He winked as he said this last part, as if daring someone not to play. He himself led the charge, handing the attendant two tickets and ignoring the guy's raised eyebrow. “Two games for me. And I definitely want the yellow fishing rod.” He took the kid-sized rod from the incredulous attendant and stood at the tub, poised and fishing rod in hand. With zero shame, he started trying to hook one of the colorful little floating fishies, saying loudly, “Come on, come on, daddy needs a new pair of shoes!”

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

Screw it, I'll do it anyway. I can't help myself, I simply must write this. It's not railroading too bad anyway. Ladies and gentlemen...we are going fishing. :D I REGRET NOTHING.

The Normal Life of Non-Normals

Aargh, my post is so short it bothers me, but I'm not sure if I should or shouldn't railroad all of our characters without a chance for other peeps to catch up. :x

Fractured Ego (Psychological thriller RP)

By the time Michael was fully awake, he was sitting upright and blinking away the blurriness of sleep. Thoughts and reason returned slowly but surely, as he looked around the unfamiliar area to find that he was sitting in a hospital bed. Again?...no, couldn't be...he thought wearily. Michael looked at his left hand, flexing it as he read the number on it. 55. His brow furrowed in confusion at the sight of it. With a thought, he checked his other wrist, but there was nothing. If this had been a legitimate hospital visit, he would have a wristband. I also would probably be wearing a hospital gown. Michael thought as gazed down at his new attire. A gray shirt with some decent slacks and shoes. Taking stock of the room, Michael raised himself from the bed and began to make mental notes. He approached the window and tried to open it to get his bearings, but with no success. He couldn't see much through it in any case. The only other thing that caught his eye was something that Michael took a large amount of comfort in: a notebook. They weren't required in his line of duty, but he always carried one anyway. The first page was torn out, and a pen sat next to it. As he began to write in the notebook, he saw with some surprise that the pen was writing in gray ink. Awoke at _:_? no clock in room, outside not visible. Small room, one bed, one window. No wristband, no gown, no hospital staff. New clothes. Shirt is gray, same color as pen. Number 55 on left hand, not sure how it got there. Last memories: Getting home and sitting down. I was filling out paperwork. With that, he stuck he pen inside the notebook and headed towards the door leading out of the room. No use in sitting around, he meant to find out how and why he was brought here, and fast. As he exited the room, he saw that the hallway he just entered was sparse, like the room he was just in. Turning around to look at the door, he examined a small plaque that read 5955. Michael jotted the room number quickly down in his notebook, reflecting briefly on the fact that the last two numbers were the same two on his hand. Michael scowled in distaste. Whatever was going on here, he didn't like it one bit. Striding quickly down the hallway, he set out to find someone else. He simply couldn't be the only one here.

Fractured Ego (Psychological thriller RP)

Awesome, I'll be able to get a post up tomorrow.