**INTRO**
You guys know who is and is not mine... although there are a few I wouldn't *mind* having as mine...
Okay, folks! I've written something along the "friends get sucked into storybook" line before,
(See: The Pizza Box Adventure) It's just some insane dream of mine to get sucked into a book, or something...
Anyway, this was for the most part, written over the course of one night amidst swiss cheese crackers and a lot of
White Lighten' Jolt (among other things) and has since been revised and repaired, for your viewing pleasure ^.^
So, sit back, relax, read, and please R&R!!! Thanka!
****THE COLORED PENCIL CLUB I: High School****
It was 7:37 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Risa Farenel stumbled her way blearily down the hall, dodging other students and various abandonded backpacks and athletic bags as she headed for locker 344.
She was an average girl in all physical respects. Average height, average weight, average looks. She had long red hair that she wore in about a million teeny-tiny braids to almost her waist, freckles acrost her nose, and greyish green eyes that she felt were her best feature. Everything about her seemed to be somewhat rounded, except for her hands, feet, and ears. Her hands were small and thin, with long, gracefully tapered fingers, her feet were small and thin, too. As for her ears, well, they were both slightly pointed at the top, giving her the appearence of some magical creature from the myths of Ireland. Her Gramma always teased her about being half-elf, but Risa always just rolled her eyes. She was way to klutzy to have even a fraction of elf-blood, let alone be half elf! Actually, she looked more like a very tall pixie than anything else. But Gramma's stories had an effect on her none the less, and it was just the little push Risa's active imagination needed to open a whole little world where she spent most of her time dreaming away her teenage years.
The first day back from a three-day weekend was almost always the worst kind, especially when paired with change of semester, new classes, and play practice to boot. It was January, and in the small town of Westingford, that meant snow, sleet, ice and mud... and lots of it. Westingford was not the most fantastic place to grow up and go to school; the most common cause of death before puberty was boredom (this was another reason Risa's imagination was so wild. It was a matter of survival). The town consisted of a small lake, a creek, a small park, three schools, a local garage, about eight churches, two car dealerships, a funeral home, three bars, five resturants, two hardware stores, three antique shops, a Dollar General, one grocery, a post office, and a couple craft and frame stores. That was it. Risa's mother owned one of the resteraunts, a little pizza and sub take-out place called Farenel's. Risa occasionally worked there after school when she needed money, but usually went down to Lake LeBison with her buddies, The Colored Pencil Club, or sat around at the gazebo in the park. Speaking of the CPC, it was not long before Risa spotted one of the members.
Zoe Gingringer had been Risa's closest pal since they'd started at FLB as freshmen, it was they who had started the Colored Pencil Club in art class the semester before.
Zoe's imagination was almost as wild as Risa's, and they spent many a day drifting down the creek in a rented canoe and living out their made-up adventures. Risa and Zoe had much in common. They were the same height, both sang alto, were rabid manga and anime fans, were somewhat talented in art, had the same scores on their PSAT's, and loved orange soda-pop best. But there were many differences, too. Where Risa was average in school work, Zoe excelled. Zoe was also very pretty, but would never admit it. She had crazily curly dark blonde hair, and big blue eyes that looked as if they had silvery snowflakes swirling in them. Her face was delicate, and her hands were long and thin like Risa's. And while Risa's clothing was anywhere from medieval skirts and hippie blouses to black leather pants and Hello Kitty, Zoe stuck mainly to blue jeans and baby tee's, and her all time favorite color: orange.
Right now, Zoe stood at the locker she shared with Micah Hart, who wasn't there yet, a bright spot of tangerine and denim amongst the khaki and navy clad preppies in her midst. For some reason, the preppies just loved to congregate around the 340-350 locker block. It was a mystery why, but everyone was pretty sure it was because they were too stoned to make it the rest of the way down the hall to their own lockers.
"GINGRINGER!" Risa shrieked, blurriness forgotten, and took a running leap to tackle her buddy, who turned, paled, and pressed herself against the open locker, anticipating the impact that inevitably came.
"Dammit to shit to hell to baloney!" Zoe yelled, pushing Risa off of her and stuffing her coat disgrunteldly into the locker, slamming it shut. "Do you have to do that *every* single morning!"
"Of course!" Risa quipped cheerfully as she crammed her coat into her nearly over-flowing locker. "One would think you'd be used to it by now, Gingringer!" Zoe gave her a nasty look, and they took off down the hallway away from the staring preppies, giggling.
"I wish you could've made it to Wal*Mart on Saturday," Risa sighed pushing several of her tiny braids away from her face. "We had a blast, but it just wasn't the same."
"Yeah, I know, but it just wasn't worth duking it out with Mom over."
"Yeah, I guess so. But there's always Snowball!"
"I am *not* going to that dance!" Zoe growled, glaring at her friend.
"Why not?" Risa demanded. "It really is a good time! Wear jeans under your gown, I don't care! Just pleeeeease come with us? Pleeeeeease, Zoe-chan? Please?"
"Yeah, Pleeeeeease?" Added a new voice, coming up behind them. "Cactus Flower!" Risa cried in a nauseatingly fake western accent. "Honey Lamb!" The tall, thin guy replied with the same accent, laughing. Risa linked her arm through his and pulled him up between her and Zoe. Micah Hart was the only guy they'd every really hung out with. Besides towering far above them height-wise, and weighing far less than them, Micah had a knack for the coolest clothes and *the* best colonge. Not a day went by when Risa didn't sniff him by way of greeting. Aside from being tall and thin, Micah had pretty hazel-green eyes and short, dark, wavy hair that he wore gelled and arranged "just so". He'd first come to Fort LeBison as a sophomore, and the fact that he was very, well, gay probably made it a little difficult for him to fit in at first. But before long, he made several new friends that included Zoe and Amitie, their acquaintance Julianna, and a girl named Gale whom none of them much knew except for Micah. The fact that girls generally were nuts about him helped a bit, too (wink). Through Zoe and Amitie, he'd met Risa, and from the first time they spoke, they'd acted like they'd known each other for years, much to the confusion of others. He was the third member of the club. Back to the subject at hand...
"Still tryin' to get her to go?" Micah asked Risa, still laughing. "Yes! She won't budge towards it!" Risa complained, glaring best she could at Zoe across Micah's chest. "It's not like you wouldn't have a date!" She then grumbled, but the look on Zoe's face signalled that it was time to change the subject. "So, we know that we all have chemistry together first period, but what about after that?" she asked, pulling her folded schedule out of her jeans pocket. Zoe and Micah produced theirs, as well, and soon the trio was bent over their respective class schedules, discussing teachers and other class members and the like. A brief stop in the chemistry room, and they were all on their way, rejoicing that they all shared 3rd Lunch again. And soon after several laps of the halls and a stop at the soda machine for orangey-goodness, Risa began to get worried. One of their group had not yet arrived, and usually she was there by now. "Hey," Zoe started, again seeming to read her mind. "Has anyone seen--"
"LOVERS!" A new voice bellowed down the hallway, causing several teachers and students to turn their heads or jump up, startled at the voice's sheer volume.
"--Amitie?" Zoe finished flatly. "Darling!" Micah called happily, and Risa bust out laughing.
Amitie Jamensen was the only senior in the group, and the only one old enough to legally see R-rated movies and vote. Her father co-owned one of the two hardware stores in town, her brothers were away at college, and her mother had died several years before, so Amitie was pretty much a loner. She lived a few blocks away from the school on East Avenue, in a huge victorian mansion which had been painted teal with orange and white trim (needless to say, it was Zoe's dream house). Amitie was a full-blown genius, yet school was low on her priority list. She'd been known to spend up to five hours painting her nails (which today sported tiny monkeys and bananas on palm trees), and her hair styles and colors changed almost as often as Risa's, but far more dramatically. At the moment, it was brown, with jet black ends, and had two rainbow streaks coming down on either side of her face. It was also very curly that morning. Her clothes were all together indescribable, but always, always fun to look at. She wasn't exactly an official member (she just didn't get the joke), but it was only a matter of days before she would be initiated.
"Are you people def or something? I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes!" Amitie growled, meeting up with them. She and Zoe took the lead, and Risa and Micah fell behind them, arms linked once more. "Sorry, Amitie. We were just so distracted by your appearance, we couldn't hear you calling." Zoe joked. "Damn you, Gingringer!" Amitie threatened, shaking her fist in the blonde girl's direction.
Risa opened her mouth to toss a comment, but just then the digital clocks turned to 7:53, and Amitie had to part ways with them to reach her class on time. Risa, Zoe and Micah headed for their chemistry class, and another long, tedious day of "fine education" began.
You guys know who is and is not mine... although there are a few I wouldn't *mind* having as mine...
Okay, folks! I've written something along the "friends get sucked into storybook" line before,
(See: The Pizza Box Adventure) It's just some insane dream of mine to get sucked into a book, or something...
Anyway, this was for the most part, written over the course of one night amidst swiss cheese crackers and a lot of
White Lighten' Jolt (among other things) and has since been revised and repaired, for your viewing pleasure ^.^
So, sit back, relax, read, and please R&R!!! Thanka!
****THE COLORED PENCIL CLUB I: High School****
It was 7:37 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Risa Farenel stumbled her way blearily down the hall, dodging other students and various abandonded backpacks and athletic bags as she headed for locker 344.
She was an average girl in all physical respects. Average height, average weight, average looks. She had long red hair that she wore in about a million teeny-tiny braids to almost her waist, freckles acrost her nose, and greyish green eyes that she felt were her best feature. Everything about her seemed to be somewhat rounded, except for her hands, feet, and ears. Her hands were small and thin, with long, gracefully tapered fingers, her feet were small and thin, too. As for her ears, well, they were both slightly pointed at the top, giving her the appearence of some magical creature from the myths of Ireland. Her Gramma always teased her about being half-elf, but Risa always just rolled her eyes. She was way to klutzy to have even a fraction of elf-blood, let alone be half elf! Actually, she looked more like a very tall pixie than anything else. But Gramma's stories had an effect on her none the less, and it was just the little push Risa's active imagination needed to open a whole little world where she spent most of her time dreaming away her teenage years.
The first day back from a three-day weekend was almost always the worst kind, especially when paired with change of semester, new classes, and play practice to boot. It was January, and in the small town of Westingford, that meant snow, sleet, ice and mud... and lots of it. Westingford was not the most fantastic place to grow up and go to school; the most common cause of death before puberty was boredom (this was another reason Risa's imagination was so wild. It was a matter of survival). The town consisted of a small lake, a creek, a small park, three schools, a local garage, about eight churches, two car dealerships, a funeral home, three bars, five resturants, two hardware stores, three antique shops, a Dollar General, one grocery, a post office, and a couple craft and frame stores. That was it. Risa's mother owned one of the resteraunts, a little pizza and sub take-out place called Farenel's. Risa occasionally worked there after school when she needed money, but usually went down to Lake LeBison with her buddies, The Colored Pencil Club, or sat around at the gazebo in the park. Speaking of the CPC, it was not long before Risa spotted one of the members.
Zoe Gingringer had been Risa's closest pal since they'd started at FLB as freshmen, it was they who had started the Colored Pencil Club in art class the semester before.
Zoe's imagination was almost as wild as Risa's, and they spent many a day drifting down the creek in a rented canoe and living out their made-up adventures. Risa and Zoe had much in common. They were the same height, both sang alto, were rabid manga and anime fans, were somewhat talented in art, had the same scores on their PSAT's, and loved orange soda-pop best. But there were many differences, too. Where Risa was average in school work, Zoe excelled. Zoe was also very pretty, but would never admit it. She had crazily curly dark blonde hair, and big blue eyes that looked as if they had silvery snowflakes swirling in them. Her face was delicate, and her hands were long and thin like Risa's. And while Risa's clothing was anywhere from medieval skirts and hippie blouses to black leather pants and Hello Kitty, Zoe stuck mainly to blue jeans and baby tee's, and her all time favorite color: orange.
Right now, Zoe stood at the locker she shared with Micah Hart, who wasn't there yet, a bright spot of tangerine and denim amongst the khaki and navy clad preppies in her midst. For some reason, the preppies just loved to congregate around the 340-350 locker block. It was a mystery why, but everyone was pretty sure it was because they were too stoned to make it the rest of the way down the hall to their own lockers.
"GINGRINGER!" Risa shrieked, blurriness forgotten, and took a running leap to tackle her buddy, who turned, paled, and pressed herself against the open locker, anticipating the impact that inevitably came.
"Dammit to shit to hell to baloney!" Zoe yelled, pushing Risa off of her and stuffing her coat disgrunteldly into the locker, slamming it shut. "Do you have to do that *every* single morning!"
"Of course!" Risa quipped cheerfully as she crammed her coat into her nearly over-flowing locker. "One would think you'd be used to it by now, Gingringer!" Zoe gave her a nasty look, and they took off down the hallway away from the staring preppies, giggling.
"I wish you could've made it to Wal*Mart on Saturday," Risa sighed pushing several of her tiny braids away from her face. "We had a blast, but it just wasn't the same."
"Yeah, I know, but it just wasn't worth duking it out with Mom over."
"Yeah, I guess so. But there's always Snowball!"
"I am *not* going to that dance!" Zoe growled, glaring at her friend.
"Why not?" Risa demanded. "It really is a good time! Wear jeans under your gown, I don't care! Just pleeeeease come with us? Pleeeeeease, Zoe-chan? Please?"
"Yeah, Pleeeeeease?" Added a new voice, coming up behind them. "Cactus Flower!" Risa cried in a nauseatingly fake western accent. "Honey Lamb!" The tall, thin guy replied with the same accent, laughing. Risa linked her arm through his and pulled him up between her and Zoe. Micah Hart was the only guy they'd every really hung out with. Besides towering far above them height-wise, and weighing far less than them, Micah had a knack for the coolest clothes and *the* best colonge. Not a day went by when Risa didn't sniff him by way of greeting. Aside from being tall and thin, Micah had pretty hazel-green eyes and short, dark, wavy hair that he wore gelled and arranged "just so". He'd first come to Fort LeBison as a sophomore, and the fact that he was very, well, gay probably made it a little difficult for him to fit in at first. But before long, he made several new friends that included Zoe and Amitie, their acquaintance Julianna, and a girl named Gale whom none of them much knew except for Micah. The fact that girls generally were nuts about him helped a bit, too (wink). Through Zoe and Amitie, he'd met Risa, and from the first time they spoke, they'd acted like they'd known each other for years, much to the confusion of others. He was the third member of the club. Back to the subject at hand...
"Still tryin' to get her to go?" Micah asked Risa, still laughing. "Yes! She won't budge towards it!" Risa complained, glaring best she could at Zoe across Micah's chest. "It's not like you wouldn't have a date!" She then grumbled, but the look on Zoe's face signalled that it was time to change the subject. "So, we know that we all have chemistry together first period, but what about after that?" she asked, pulling her folded schedule out of her jeans pocket. Zoe and Micah produced theirs, as well, and soon the trio was bent over their respective class schedules, discussing teachers and other class members and the like. A brief stop in the chemistry room, and they were all on their way, rejoicing that they all shared 3rd Lunch again. And soon after several laps of the halls and a stop at the soda machine for orangey-goodness, Risa began to get worried. One of their group had not yet arrived, and usually she was there by now. "Hey," Zoe started, again seeming to read her mind. "Has anyone seen--"
"LOVERS!" A new voice bellowed down the hallway, causing several teachers and students to turn their heads or jump up, startled at the voice's sheer volume.
"--Amitie?" Zoe finished flatly. "Darling!" Micah called happily, and Risa bust out laughing.
Amitie Jamensen was the only senior in the group, and the only one old enough to legally see R-rated movies and vote. Her father co-owned one of the two hardware stores in town, her brothers were away at college, and her mother had died several years before, so Amitie was pretty much a loner. She lived a few blocks away from the school on East Avenue, in a huge victorian mansion which had been painted teal with orange and white trim (needless to say, it was Zoe's dream house). Amitie was a full-blown genius, yet school was low on her priority list. She'd been known to spend up to five hours painting her nails (which today sported tiny monkeys and bananas on palm trees), and her hair styles and colors changed almost as often as Risa's, but far more dramatically. At the moment, it was brown, with jet black ends, and had two rainbow streaks coming down on either side of her face. It was also very curly that morning. Her clothes were all together indescribable, but always, always fun to look at. She wasn't exactly an official member (she just didn't get the joke), but it was only a matter of days before she would be initiated.
"Are you people def or something? I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes!" Amitie growled, meeting up with them. She and Zoe took the lead, and Risa and Micah fell behind them, arms linked once more. "Sorry, Amitie. We were just so distracted by your appearance, we couldn't hear you calling." Zoe joked. "Damn you, Gingringer!" Amitie threatened, shaking her fist in the blonde girl's direction.
Risa opened her mouth to toss a comment, but just then the digital clocks turned to 7:53, and Amitie had to part ways with them to reach her class on time. Risa, Zoe and Micah headed for their chemistry class, and another long, tedious day of "fine education" began.