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Thread: Lewes v Blue

  1. #1
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    Lewes v Blue

    All RP for the match between OLIVIA LEWES and KRIST BLUE at RAUCOUS should be done in this folder. Any RP posted outside of the folder will not count.

    The RP deadline is 11:59pm on Thursday, February 17th. Angles should be sent to sedmunds@goucher.edu ..

  2. #2
    Olivia Guest

    Re: Lewes v Blue

    Navy fingers bringing night stretched across the dusky evening sky comprised of pastel shades of orange, purple, and pink. The battle was not yet won; as the sun remained in a haze of golden light against the horizon at the end of his day. The narrow streets obscured themselves with the shadows created from the beckon and fall of light into dark. The evening came in all its cool and crisp glory, but it somehow managed to retain the warmth that is often attributed to the earlier months. Her blue eyes turned up against the empty beach laid out before her, drinking in the world around her. It was these times on the cusp of twilight that the world seemed to stand still to her. Truth seemed to emerge from every corner, from every young woman standing on the street corners in all their prostitute finest, the glow of the antique lights flooded over them like some sort of disgusting modern art project, with neon gone awry, and cigarette smoke juxtaposed over torn black leather in what could be called an `artful` composition in regard to the dim lighting.

    Her thoughts shifted.

    Who ever thought that you needed oxygen to survive? The air around her was thin, so thin in fact that she wondered if she was standing dizzy on the summit of Mount Everest. It was the right kind-of dizzy. It was like the spinning dervishes of faith who spun themselves into states of ecstasy. That is what she felt like. Falling down in the joy of what was being expressed from her into a higher being. She could spin all day if she had to for she was on the ninth cloud of brilliance. The world was light and painted in dusty colors of hazy paint that invoked likeness to the works of Monet. It all seemed so out of focus in a blur that her dark eyes dilated against the ocean scene she could perceive out the window. Her slender fingers tightened their grip into a near break of the marble balcony she held clutched inside of her palm. She wanted to spin, spin, spin, and not breathe, and just got lost in something, and experience that joy of religion. She just wanted something in her life. Something more than what she had, which sounded so selfish.

    Life turned to her that day and said it was bound to come her way. It just didn’t seem like it was coming any fucking time soon. She was torn in the directions of the wind. It felt like some sort of medieval torture. She was in the middle of so many emotions, and thoughts, and feelings, and it was like she was being tied to the posts of four saplings and then being let flying. And it left her with that fighting emotion - what did she want? Who did she want? She wanted to have her cake and eat it, too - was that such a crime; apparently. One delicate hand rested to wrap around her neck in a thoughtful rub. Her tips pulled at the skin over her throat, pulling it off until the flesh burned bright red at the pain it was causing. That was a moment in life. Where you were red and everything around you was seeping white. It wanted to take your color away. It wanted to make you the same. That moment when you realize assimilation is what is expected of you. The moment when it feels like life has been taken away.

    But there are moments where life seems alive. The moments after a first kiss. The morning after. Laughing so hard you start to cry. Seeing the world. Understanding how small you are is what makes you so large. Realizing you can make a difference. There are so many moments, and they differ to everyone. Sinking her teeth into a piece of cheesecake made everything worth living because for a moment - she was happy; and in all honesty, life would be series of bad followed by one good moment. You had to savour that second. You had to hold it fast and use it as your torch in the darkness. Backpedal. The street lights were the illumination on a life spent. The prostitutes with their coifed hair and ruby red lips.

    She couldn’t see them from the balcony, but the image was emblazoned in her mind.

    To be perfect in this world. That is all anyone wanted. She didn’t. Her fingers tightened around the stained penny. She was stained, and that was how she liked it. Her dress was always up around her shoulders. She danced to her own drum. She left fear behind. She was not afraid to be a mess. Everyone wanted to be perfect. She just wanted to be herself.


    * * *

    “Krist Blue.”

    Olivia snorted, lighting the Newport between her lips.

    “Krist. Blue.”

    The blonde took a drag from the white cylinder, wrapping two slender digits around it and tugging the cancer stick away from her mouth.

    “Am I in a porno?”

    She wagged her head from side to side, allowing an irritated sigh to bubble between tainted lips while the addicting smoke emitted from her nostrils.

    “Seriously.”

    Moments later, Olivia became aware of the green light on the camera, flashing at her incessantly. Irate, the girl, after taking another drag from her cigarette, stood from her stool and walked over to the blinking electronic.

    It wasn’t quantum physics, sure enough - there were no electrons, no orbitals and nevertheless, it took Olivia Lewes about five minutes to figure out what was wrong.

    She pressed the record button.

    Instead of green, the camera now started to flash red.

    “Technology,” Olivia dismissed with a wave of her hand, returning to her stool. “Why can’t I have a camera man like everyone else?”

    One annoyed sigh later, Olivia situated herself once more in front of the camera, the heels of her sandal-clad feet easily perched on the row of wood beneath the seat.

    “You know,” Olivia mused, sheltering the Newport between her lips again, “I never wanted to become a wrestler.”

    She scrunched her eyebrows above the bridge of her nose, as if in thought. “I don’t think I ever knew what I wanted to be.”

    Pause. “Of course, when you’re little, you always have these wild dreams about what you’re going to be when you grow up – whether it be a princess, or the queen of England, or something so completely absurd like that. For me, it was always this or that. Doctor one week, firefighter the next. I think I even wanted to become a trapezist at one point or another.

    “A wrestler, though? No. The thought never crossed my mind.”

    Olivia took another drag. “It was a Tuesday night, and I remember being so conclusively bored that I decided to flip through channels on the TV. The TV was small, granted, and aging caused the wood on the side panel to start to rot. Nevertheless, it was still a TV, and the only TV that Norman could afford at the time. I remember lapsing through so many stupid sitcoms that I was this close to throwing the remote across the room – but then, I came to a stop on channel 47. At first, it was the two men in skin tights that amused me; how anyone could wear such hideous a thing, especially a man, was beyond me.”

    Emitting the grey smoke from her mouth, Olivia continued. “I couldn’t believe how incredibly lame it was. You could tell it was fake, blatantly so. One of the guys was practically shielding his face whenever the other one smacked his face into the mat. I thought it was a mode of defense, for the first couple of minutes, but then it became obvious.

    “I turned off the TV and went to bed.”

    The blonde sighed, tipping off erratic ashes at the end of her cigarette. “There’s a point in life when you have doubts about the future. You try to convince yourself that your strategical planning of the present will get you to a prominent destination in the future. It your drive and determination that gets you somewhere in life. If you try hard, you'll succeed.

    And if you really don't give a shit about your future, you let life’s ocean of waves wash you away into the dark chasm of meaningless lifestyle. You either try at something to achieve your goal in the hopes of a better future, or you simply watch whatever is thrown at you drift down the river from where you stand.”

    Olivia effortlessly tossed her cigarette to the cement. “Girls my age are in college right now – in their third or fourth year, getting ready to graduate at the end of May. I used to want that life. I used to want to go to college; live in a dorm, study what I loved, begin new relationships. I wanted to live. And I did – for a little while. I went to college, I studied something I loved, and I began new relationships; relationships that I still hang on to today. I did all of it.

    Until I dropped out.”


    Olivia fingered her shaggy hair. “But what if you were the river? What if you had the ability to touch everyone’s lives – give them some hope for living and to live even better. Take the role of the riverbed itself. The question to ask is, who or what is the riverbed? Who guides the river? Where do all these hopes and aspirations start from?

    Where do you get your water from?”

    The woman unconsciously smiled to herself. Bitterly. “I never wanted to be a wrestler. But this is where I am today.

    Today is the day to break the surface.

    Olivia slowly rose to her feet, sandals clicking against the ground as she strode towards the camera. With one hand on top of the electronic and the other hanging at her side, the blonde bent forward – so only her face was visible to what the camera could see.

    “And Thursday, Krist Blue – is the day where I break yours.”

    le fin



  3. #3
    Olivia Guest

    Re: Lewes v Blue

    Navy fingers bringing night stretched across the dusky evening sky comprised of pastel shades of orange, purple, and pink. The battle was not yet won; as the sun remained in a haze of golden light against the horizon at the end of his day. The narrow streets obscured themselves with the shadows created from the beckon and fall of light into dark. The evening came in all its cool and crisp glory, but it somehow managed to retain the warmth that is often attributed to the earlier months. Her blue eyes turned up against the empty beach laid out before her, drinking in the world around her. It was these times on the cusp of twilight that the world seemed to stand still to her. Truth seemed to emerge from every corner, from every young woman standing on the street corners in all their prostitute finest, the glow of the antique lights flooded over them like some sort of disgusting modern art project, with neon gone awry, and cigarette smoke juxtaposed over torn black leather in what could be called an `artful` composition in regard to the dim lighting.

    Her thoughts shifted.

    Who ever thought that you needed oxygen to survive? The air around her was thin, so thin in fact that she wondered if she was standing dizzy on the summit of Mount Everest. It was the right kind-of dizzy. It was like the spinning dervishes of faith who spun themselves into states of ecstasy. That is what she felt like. Falling down in the joy of what was being expressed from her into a higher being. She could spin all day if she had to for she was on the ninth cloud of brilliance. The world was light and painted in dusty colors of hazy paint that invoked likeness to the works of Monet. It all seemed so out of focus in a blur that her dark eyes dilated against the ocean scene she could perceive out the window. Her slender fingers tightened their grip into a near break of the marble balcony she held clutched inside of her palm. She wanted to spin, spin, spin, and not breathe, and just got lost in something, and experience that joy of religion. She just wanted something in her life. Something more than what she had, which sounded so selfish.

    Life turned to her that day and said it was bound to come her way. It just didn’t seem like it was coming any fucking time soon. She was torn in the directions of the wind. It felt like some sort of medieval torture. She was in the middle of so many emotions, and thoughts, and feelings, and it was like she was being tied to the posts of four saplings and then being let flying. And it left her with that fighting emotion - what did she want? Who did she want? She wanted to have her cake and eat it, too - was that such a crime; apparently. One delicate hand rested to wrap around her neck in a thoughtful rub. Her tips pulled at the skin over her throat, pulling it off until the flesh burned bright red at the pain it was causing. That was a moment in life. Where you were red and everything around you was seeping white. It wanted to take your color away. It wanted to make you the same. That moment when you realize assimilation is what is expected of you. The moment when it feels like life has been taken away.

    But there are moments where life seems alive. The moments after a first kiss. The morning after. Laughing so hard you start to cry. Seeing the world. Understanding how small you are is what makes you so large. Realizing you can make a difference. There are so many moments, and they differ to everyone. Sinking her teeth into a piece of cheesecake made everything worth living because for a moment - she was happy; and in all honesty, life would be series of bad followed by one good moment. You had to savour that second. You had to hold it fast and use it as your torch in the darkness. Backpedal. The street lights were the illumination on a life spent. The prostitutes with their coifed hair and ruby red lips.

    She couldn’t see them from the balcony, but the image was emblazoned in her mind.

    To be perfect in this world. That is all anyone wanted. She didn’t. Her fingers tightened around the stained penny. She was stained, and that was how she liked it. Her dress was always up around her shoulders. She danced to her own drum. She left fear behind. She was not afraid to be a mess. Everyone wanted to be perfect. She just wanted to be herself.


    * * *

    “Krist Blue.”

    Olivia snorted, lighting the Newport between her lips.

    “Krist. Blue.”

    The blonde took a drag from the white cylinder, wrapping two slender digits around it and tugging the cancer stick away from her mouth.

    “Am I in a porno?”

    She wagged her head from side to side, allowing an irritated sigh to bubble between tainted lips while the addicting smoke emitted from her nostrils.

    “Seriously.”

    Moments later, Olivia became aware of the green light on the camera, flashing at her incessantly. Irate, the girl, after taking another drag from her cigarette, stood from her stool and walked over to the blinking electronic.

    It wasn’t quantum physics, sure enough - there were no electrons, no orbitals and nevertheless, it took Olivia Lewes about five minutes to figure out what was wrong.

    She pressed the record button.

    Instead of green, the camera now started to flash red.

    “Technology,” Olivia dismissed with a wave of her hand, returning to her stool. “Why can’t I have a camera man like everyone else?”

    One annoyed sigh later, Olivia situated herself once more in front of the camera, the heels of her sandal-clad feet easily perched on the row of wood beneath the seat.

    “You know,” Olivia mused, sheltering the Newport between her lips again, “I never wanted to become a wrestler.”

    She scrunched her eyebrows above the bridge of her nose, as if in thought. “I don’t think I ever knew what I wanted to be.”

    Pause. “Of course, when you’re little, you always have these wild dreams about what you’re going to be when you grow up – whether it be a princess, or the queen of England, or something so completely absurd like that. For me, it was always this or that. Doctor one week, firefighter the next. I think I even wanted to become a trapezist at one point or another.

    “A wrestler, though? No. The thought never crossed my mind.”

    Olivia took another drag. “It was a Tuesday night, and I remember being so conclusively bored that I decided to flip through channels on the TV. The TV was small, granted, and aging caused the wood on the side panel to start to rot. Nevertheless, it was still a TV, and the only TV that Norman could afford at the time. I remember lapsing through so many stupid sitcoms that I was this close to throwing the remote across the room – but then, I came to a stop on channel 47. At first, it was the two men in skin tights that amused me; how anyone could wear such hideous a thing, especially a man, was beyond me.”

    Emitting the grey smoke from her mouth, Olivia continued. “I couldn’t believe how incredibly lame it was. You could tell it was fake, blatantly so. One of the guys was practically shielding his face whenever the other one smacked his face into the mat. I thought it was a mode of defense, for the first couple of minutes, but then it became obvious.

    “I turned off the TV and went to bed.”

    The blonde sighed, tipping off erratic ashes at the end of her cigarette. “There’s a point in life when you have doubts about the future. You try to convince yourself that your strategical planning of the present will get you to a prominent destination in the future. It your drive and determination that gets you somewhere in life. If you try hard, you'll succeed.

    And if you really don't give a shit about your future, you let life’s ocean of waves wash you away into the dark chasm of meaningless lifestyle. You either try at something to achieve your goal in the hopes of a better future, or you simply watch whatever is thrown at you drift down the river from where you stand.”

    Olivia effortlessly tossed her cigarette to the cement. “Girls my age are in college right now – in their third or fourth year, getting ready to graduate at the end of May. I used to want that life. I used to want to go to college; live in a dorm, study what I loved, begin new relationships. I wanted to live. And I did – for a little while. I went to college, I studied something I loved, and I began new relationships; relationships that I still hang on to today. I did all of it.

    Until I dropped out.”


    Olivia fingered her shaggy hair. “But what if you were the river? What if you had the ability to touch everyone’s lives – give them some hope for living and to live even better. Take the role of the riverbed itself. The question to ask is, who or what is the riverbed? Who guides the river? Where do all these hopes and aspirations start from?

    Where do you get your water from?”

    The woman unconsciously smiled to herself. Bitterly. “I never wanted to be a wrestler. But this is where I am today.

    Today is the day to break the surface.

    Olivia slowly rose to her feet, sandals clicking against the ground as she strode towards the camera. With one hand on top of the electronic and the other hanging at her side, the blonde bent forward – so only her face was visible to what the camera could see.

    “And Thursday, Krist Blue – is the day where I break yours.”

    le fin



  4. #4
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    a very special episode...

    (“Teen Titans Theme” by Puffy AmiYumi…)
    (CUTTO: Krist Blue is playing Edward 40 hands. That is to say she’s duct taped two 40 ounce bottles of Old English to her hands, one of which is now empty, the other is half empty. She’s sitting Indian style, flailing her arms about, in blue boxers and a black Suicide Girls tank top, makeup all tacky and smeared, blue hair with blonde roots tied into pigtails, sitting on the couch in her apartment. )

    “America’s Sweetheart”

    So yeah, um….uh…(giggles) They wont give Em his title back, right? So he’s been sitting in the bathroom masturbating and cutting himself with broken glass for like, kind of a while now. He says he’s gonna f(bleep) that gay army as(bleed)le with a chainsaw, which would be awsome, cuz he called me fat and I am SO NOT FAT.....but I donno. Those guys are always saying crazy sh(bleep) like that.

    Like ah could say I’m gonna do all kinds of awful things to Olivia Lewes, but she’s kind of a hottie, even if her life story was sort of uninteresting. I use-ly LIKE other people’s stories ‘n all, but hers wasn’t cute or bittersweet like on the WB, and it didn’t have any sex or drugs or violence in it either. Wuz jus’ like…her having to operate her own camera, and not knowing if she wanted to go to college or not. So now she’s gonna go backpacking through Europe so she can find herself….er something. Ah THINK that was the thing she was um….(takes a swig of her 40…) Okay, so I kinda spaced out during a bunch of the promo thing she was in. But eye DID see that she was a hottie, and that’s um…the most important thing, when we’re gonna be snuggling each other for victory and glory...(cackles with glee) Okay…ass-ully…Is just fer money, and maybe attention. Buh mostly money.

    I didn’t go to college either. I also didn’t think I’d be a wrestler. A few people say I’m STILL not a wrestler. But that’s chill, y’know. I’m a non-comformiss too. People are all “eh, you like to get f(bleep)ked up on cough syrup and have sex with lossa people, so you can’t fight other chicks and win,” and then I so do. (drinks s’more of her 40) I mean, when everyone else on TV is jumping through flaming tables and eating bugs and answering trivia questions and letting us watch them be stupid, "whore" is not like…even an insult anymore. It’s like the standard. Which maybe ass-ully does make me a conformiss, but ch’know. Whatever. It’s casual.

    So jus so y’know…Olivia, sweetheart, yes. You ARE in a porno. We are…ALL in a porno!!! (chuckles) I’m so profound.

    F(BLEEP)K!!!....How am I gonna go to the bathroom like this?

    (CUTTO: Other side of the apartment. Several seconds have passed. Krist is standing in the same attire from a few seconds ago, knocking one of her 40es against the bathroom door…)

    KRIST: EM!!! Baby Sweetie!!! Little help?!?!?!?

    MWG(invisible behind door): I’M BUSY!!!

    KRIST: But…my lovely homosexual boyfriend, I really have to go pee, and my hands are stuck….

    (A few seconds pass. Krist crosses her knees, becoming impatient…)

    KRIST: Look, if you’re just masturbating and cutting yourself, I’ve seen it like a bah-gillion times. If you want some “you” time, s’fine, but I’ll just be a second…

    MWG: BUT WHO’S GONNA BABYSIT THE BABYSITTER?!?!?!

    KRIST:….What?

    MWG: AVOID EVERYTHING!!! AVOID EVERYTHING!!!

    KRIST: (Pause) Em….are you bogarting LSD in there?! I can have some?!?!

    (Silence)

    KRIST: I SWEAR I’LL PISS ALL OVER YOUR JACKET IF YOU DON’T LET ME IN THERE AND GIVE ME SOME ACID!!!!

    (silence)

    KRIST: Aw….(bites her lip, as her eyes water up) Just great…my homosexual boyfriend, my truest and bestest friend, has abandoned me just cuz he lost his title. (bangs on the door again) WHICH WAS A CRAP TITLE ANYWAY!!!......(collects herself)...This sucks. Ghost of Aleister Crowley, what should I do?

    (The ghost of Aleister Crowley appears)

    ALEISTER CROWLEY: As thou wilt.

    KRIST: YOU SUCK ghost of Aleister Crowley.

    CROWLEY: Yeah….you wanna, y’know, piss on my face?

    KRIST: (sighs) Yeah…Sure. But then you’ve gotta watch Gilmore Girls DVDs with me. I’m up to the episode where Luke puts little bits of broken glass in the mayor’s food, so he eventually bleeds to death internally.

    CROWLEY: (sighs)….I guess.

    KRIST: Cool.

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