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Post by noah dayton prescott on Nov 16, 2008 15:04:34 GMT -5
i don't want to work, i want to bang on the drum all day. i don't want to play, i just want to bang on the drum all day. Bam. Leaning back against the chair, Noah twirled his sticks leisurely in his hands, biting his lip in concentration. He was alone for once-thank god the music teacher had grown to like him, and given him permission to stay in the room during lunch hour, or else he had no idea how he would survive in this school. It was when he was alone with his drum set; these were the moments that Noah cherished the most. He was forced to keep his drum set in this music classroom by his roommates-they really didn’t enjoy the constant beating, and Noah wasn’t one to contradict people in the slightest. In fact, it was the complete opposite with the quiet first year-he went out of his way to avoid conflict, by not speaking to certain people. Actually, most people, except for a select few.
Getting up, Noah shook his head and headed over to the speakers, sliding his sticks into his back pocket in a solid motion. Attaching his i-pod to the top of the machine, he shuffled through the songs, trying to find one with a solid beat that he could follow, and practice with. Glancing at the glowing screen, Noah nodded to himself. Yes. That song would work perfectly. Pressing play, the solid entrance of the drums danced through the speakers. Running to his beloved drum set, Noah smoothly slid out his sticks, and ran with the beat. Awkwardly, he adjusted himself to the song, nodding his head with the rhythm. Snare, bass, cymbal. Clash. Yes, there it was. Stick furiously meeting drum, they clashed in a satisfying beautiful sound, the sound that Noah lived for. The only reason that he didn't run away already from the damned school-he knew it could actually help him with life. And his one dream....
With the ending crash, Noah panted, leaning back once more into his chair. That was what he loved, the pure, raw emotion in the songs, in the beat. It was a physical and emotional exercise, bringing back memories of the past years, of his uncle, of hanging out with Adam. And that made him truly happy. He would never ever stop playing the drums for that sole reason. Glancing at the clock, Noah got up and shook his body around, loosening up his joints. He was going to make the most of the forty-five minutes he had left and practice his heart out. Only the best for the band.
Twirling around the drumsticks in his hand, Noah began to hum to himself, walking around the music room. It was his ritual to take a break after every song he practiced-it wasn't healthy, according to his uncle, to play song after song without stopping. Swelled up your joints, and reduced your stamina. Which definitely wasn't a good thing, seeing as it meant that at any time, would it be at his dorm, in class, or on stage, his joints could freeze up and just stop for the moment. The drums were the sole, the core of the band, without them, the whole rhythm of the song would be lost. Thus, it wouldn't be a good thing if that happened on stage-it'd be mortifying, to say the least. Wouldn't help with the 'shy' thing, as Violet called it, one bit. Although, Noah wasn't very sure how he would react on stage-he couldn't even handle talking to people, how then performing for them? There was nothing he could do about it though, except to wait and see...
Alright. Break over, Noah. Heading back over to the drum set, he sat himself down, twiddling around and experimenting with the different noises. Adlibbing is what every drummer lives for. A smile on his face, he created a steady beat with his sticks, adding the 'ting' of the triangle into the mix, as the random notes of the xylophone placed closely to his drum set. The medley of sound that was created from his obscure notes was so chaotic, so messy, so...perfect. This was one he had to remember, to write down. But first, to finish it.
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STATUS, done TAG, it's OPEN. ;D WORDS, 682. D: it's short. LISTENING TO, If You Wanted A Song Written About You, All You Had To Do Was Ask - Mayday Parade NOTES, -hums- red and blue make purple. ^^
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Post by shaolin alana leonetti on Nov 16, 2008 16:49:31 GMT -5
SHAOLIN ALANA LEONETTI
[Shaolin] glanced up at the clock once more; the second hand seemed to be moving slower then usual. She sighed, her fingers fumbling with each other in the large hoodie pocket she wore. She felt like she was trapped, sat next to as stranger in a classroom full of many others. She had barely moved for the last hour, aside to grab a notebook and pencil from her shoulder bag. Five minutes until the bell rang, five minutes until she could escape. Parting her lips ever so slightly she inhaled deeply through her mouth before blowing out the air, her cheeks puffing up a little in her outward sigh.
[The] female sitting next to her looked over and immediately Shaolin’s gaze fell to the notebook resting on the desk before her, her teeth biting her bottom lip softly. She hated when she drew attention to herself. As she tilted her head down a little more to cause her elongated brunette dreads to fall over her shoulders and around her face, blocking it from any onlookers. After a few more silenced moments she drew up the courage to raise her scrutiny just briefly to look at the clock hanging on the wall before her, two more minutes.
[Tick,] tick. Ugh, this class took so long. She wanted to pick up her bag and run out at the moment, but that would draw far too much attention to Shay. She’d probably have a panic attack. Instead she waited patiently, or what looked like patently from the outside. Her hands remained intertwined together in her hoodie pocket, her back straight against the chair she sat in, her head leaned down. It was obvious she was uncomfortable being around this many people, she couldn’t wait until lunch. For the past few weeks she’d just sat as far from others as she could during lunch but, after talking to the music teacher, Shay had been told she was allowed to stay in the music room during lunch if she wished. She was informed though that there was another student who stayed there as well but he was a quieter fellow and chances were he wouldn’t bother Shaolin, which wouldn’t be so bad. One quiet stranger was better then hundreds of loud ones.
[She] shuddered as the bell for class rang, slowly gathering her things and putting them in her bag before standing up and soundlessly throwing it over her shoulder to stroll out, the last one in the class to leave. As she walked down the hallway she kept her gaze low, set to where she wouldn’t have to look anyone in the face though she could still see where she was going, running into someone was the last thing she wanted to do. She followed the hallway right and then took a sharp left out the buildings main entrance, the cool fresh air blowing her hair around her face. One of her hands escaped her hoodie pocket a she lifted it, her fingers pushing the hair back behind one of her ears. She pulled her other arm of her pocket then, crossing both over her chest as she walked through the crowd of people.
[It] was like a wave of relief as she reached the music building, her hand reaching out and pulling the heavy door open. She slid inside inconspicuously, locomoting her lithe frame toward the room she was allowed to stay in. As she got closer to the room she heard drums being played, and quite well at that. She ceased her movements outside the door and out of sight, listening intently. This must be the other person who usually stayed in the room. As she listened further a brow rose over her semblance, the style was oddly similar to Noah’s. Her heart nearly stopped beating for a second, it could not be Noah in there. That would be just as bad as being around a hundred loud strangers. He made her just as nervous.
[The] arms dangling loosely at her sides now crossed over her chest once more as the noise stopped. The person must be finished with the song or taking a break. She rolled her shoulders into a gentle shrug, inhaling deeply and holding her breath. ‘Should I even go in?’ Thoughts swirled around within her mind for a few moments before she came up with a decision. ‘Just walk in and go to the keyboard’s, you don’t even have to look at who is in there.’ Nodding, though agreeing with herself, she strolled in, her head now completely angled downward, long brown hair cast over her shoulders so it blocked her face from view. She couldn’t help but tilt her head to the left, looking at who was in the room, and as predicted it was none other then Noah; her heart jumped. ‘Crap.’ She looked away instantly, speechlessly moving over toward one of the keyboards and putting her bag down on a chair.
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Post by noah dayton prescott on Nov 16, 2008 18:09:27 GMT -5
i don't want to work, i want to bang on the drum all day. i don't want to play, i just want to bang on the drum all day. 'Okay, clash, clash, boom.' And he was done. Smiling to himself, Noah placed his sticks securely into his hoodie's pockets, grabbed his ripped bag from behind his chair, and pulled out his writing notebook. Flipping through the random pages filled with notes, he grasped around for an empty sheet. Finding one, he obtained the pencil that laid in the notebook's spirals, and scribbled down the precession of notes he had just played, eager to get them down fast, while he still remembered what had just happened. It was like magic, when Noah played his music. His whole body came alive into himself-it was as if the shyness just disappeared for the short time that the drumsticks collided with the drums. Well, he had only played for himself really...maybe it would be completely different with a crowd in front of him. No way to find out but to test the theory.
Glancing around for the time-Noah always dated and wrote in the times when he composed something, to keep track-his gaze was caught by an array of dark hair seated by the keyboards in the corner of the room. No...it couldn't be... He hadn't noticed anyone enter, in his enthusiasm, or else he would've stopped at once, and immediately exit. But now, it was too late-he couldn't leave without seeming rude. If only he could tell exactly who the person was in the room, with the long brown hair blocking his view of her face-that she was a girl, yes, that much was certain, but nothing else could be taken in from his perspective. But there was only one girl that came to mind, one girl that could play the piano that had long, dark hair. One girl that he could picture so vividly in his mind, as if she was right in front of him. And maybe she was…
'Shaolin?' Oh no, oh no, oh no. Panic filled the nervous second year as his face paled, turning it a shade lighter than usual. What was she doing there, during his special time? The music teacher didn’t mention anything about anyone joining them that day-maybe he should’ve asked her, but he didn’t think it necessary. The teacher knew that he liked being alone-why would she let another student, especially her join him without telling Noah? He had to get out of there, and fast. He couldn’t handle being near the fellow musician-the way Shay made him feel, it was strange. This light-headedness, this confusion, he couldn’t handle it one bit. And yet, somehow, he kind of lived for it. As much as he hated meeting her, bumping into her in the hallways, being around her during band practice, on the other hand, he loved it, the way Noah was somehow drawn to her, the weird way he felt just being around her. And it scared the shit out of him. But what could he do? Twisting his wrist in anxiety, he found that he was shaking incessantly, and more than usual. This wasn't good. Why did she make him so nervous, more than any other person he had ever met? This wasn't right...it scared Noah not to know the answer to that question.
The silence filled the air loudly between them. It was ironic in a way, being in a dead silent music department. It just made no sense-the desire to say something was overwhelming him, which was just another strange emotion to add to the list. Ever since he had met Shay, the list had been growing rapidly-another thing about her which confused him so. Oh god. What was his mouth doing? He felt it open, and instantly, he croaked. The embarrassment he felt as it echoed through the room was unmeasurable, Come on, Noah. Do something, anything to cover that... Okay. Alright. Talk to her. You can do it. "S-Shaolin...?" There. He had stuttered quite a bit, saying her name, but it was better than the silence. Weirdly, it was something that he couldn’t stand, the awkwardness of silences when there were two people in a room. It didn’t seem like something he would hate, being Noah, but it was.
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STATUS, done TAG, it's OPEN. ;D WORDS, 691. D: it's too short. -_-" LISTENING TO, five dollar foot long... NOTES, i am currently deleting all the hsm songs from my ipod. apparently, my brother is a douche, and decided to replace all the relient k songs with that...D<
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Post by shaolin alana leonetti on Nov 16, 2008 20:00:11 GMT -5
SHAOLIN ALANA LEONETTI
[Shaolin] reached into her back, her hands shaking. ‘What if he’s looking at me?’ Digging through her backpack she suddenly froze at the contemplation, nearly breaking into a sweat. ‘Oh god, what if he’s already noticed me.’ She closed her eyes, focusing on just breathing correctly. After a second she unsteadily resumed shoveling through her backpack before grabbing her notebook and pulling it out. Setting it on the side of the chair for a second she snatched her pencil box, opening it and retrieving a stray pen. She picked up the notebook once more and, taking another deep breathe in she turned around quickly and sat gently on the keyboard bench. She placed her pencil on the bookstand at the top while she flipped through a few pages, trying to find the piece she’d been working on for the last few days.
[Upon] reaching the desired page she sat the opened notebook aside the pencil and turned on the keyboard, pushing up the plastic notch until the ‘on’ button glowed red. Though she was completely ready to play she just could not get up the nerve to start, not while Noah was right there, so noiseless, so still. ‘Maybe he left?’ He was being quiet, a little too quiet. She lifted her head and looked up hastily, just enough to see that there was still someone perched in a chair aside the drums. How was she supposed to be able and play in front of hundreds of people, hundreds of strangers if she couldn’t even play in front of Noah? At least not right now. It’s not as though she’d hadn’t played in front of him before, in fact she had on a few different occasions. Shay however, had never practiced in front of him. She’d never been the only one playing while he was so close, so hushed.
[Suddenly] his voice filled her ears, the solitary word he spoke running through her mind and breaking the silence between them. So he’d actually remembered her name. For some reason or another a small smile began to pull at her lips but she quickly wiped it away, a new found nervousness overwhelming her as she realized she’d have to reply. It would be rude of her not too. “Uh…yeah…” Her German accent was noticeable as she began to trail off before speaking once more in a low voice only to herself. “Was sage ich?” She lifted her gaze once more, her eyes locking nervously with his before she averted her scrutiny, yet her eyes still looked in the same direction. Instead of looking at him she looked at the posters behind him, the details to the drum, anything but him.
[Shaolin] lifted her hand as she prepared to speak again, meaning to give a small wave but once it was in the air she just held it there, almost scared to make any further action. “Hey, N-” she paused, her heart thumping so loudly in her chest she was sure he could hear it. “Noah.” She finished, dropping her arm awkwardly. She looked away completely then, back to her paper. Her right hand ran through her hair tautly before she tucked it behind her ears, her face no longer hidden from view. Shay’s pale skin contrasted deeply against the black hoodie that wrapped around her torso, hanging nearly down to her knees. Purple gloves with the fingers missing were worn on both of her hands to match the purple leggings showing underneath her holey flare jeans, black DC’s worn on her small feet. She’d always worn loose, fairly plain, styled clothing.
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