|
|
Post by joj on Jul 20, 2011 19:00:34 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,458,true] [atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/TMIDDLE-1.png]From that very morning, when the voices of Brian Epstein and John Lennon had rose up over the sound of his silent sleeping, George had found it rather hard to continue his rest. For the second time that morning, he found himself wandering from his flat bedroom (clothed and ready this time around) and heading out the door before he could hear the rest of the two men’s argument. He didn’t care what it was about, or who, he just wanted out of there. Fast. On a steady walk, George quickly found himself a small distance from the Park, but he did not go into it. Two sharp brown eyes darted along the sidewalks there, watching as two older police men stopped to talk to one another as they passed. George’s thick brows rose, observing for a moment while the two senior rozzers talked, then finally went their separate ways circling the perimeter of the Park- sure to meet back up again in the same place at the same pace… that was routine. George Hated routine. A hand went to dig in his trouser pocket where his fingers played with the edges of a plastic Jelly baby bag. His face remained completely deadpan, continuing along the side walk at a casual pace before dropping down behind the closest Post box he could find. His skinny frame was hid well behind its bright red body. That hand pulled the bag of sweets from his pocket and he rose on his knees to stare out at the exact place he was sure the two men would meet back up at. For many minutes he sat still and quiet. Every so often popping one of jelly candies into his mouth, but just as he was on his fourth one, they came again. He quickly gathered himself onto his knees (Brian would kill him later for getting his trousers dirty) and peering out from behind the post box. Just as planned in their little “routine” of sorts, the two stopped in their place across the street from George, and began talking again. One hand held a Jelly baby between two fingers, edging it back… aiming… and… Smack!The little candy person was thrown at one of the patrol cops, hitting him in the back and causing him to shout out a sharp “Oi! What was that?!” He stopped talking to do a complete circle in one place, looking for what would have hit him. But George Harrass-everyone-in-sight had already dodged behind that red mailbox before the man could see him clearly. From there he began snickering uncontrollably. Trying to stop the noise before he was caught. POST: done ! - TAG: Janet ! - NOTES: 633words. LOL He’s having fun
 |
|
|
|
|
Post by JANET ANDREA WILDE on Jul 21, 2011 2:26:53 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://webdesignledger.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/ornate_1.jpg) ] after all is said & done You're gonna say you'll miss me. You're gonna say you'll kiss me. Yes, you're gonna say you'll love me - - - - - - - - - - - - About once every three weeks, Janey seemed to have...off mornings. Nothing particularly terrible occurred, fair enough, but just when she'd forgotten this dreadful habit her mornings had of playing tricks on her, the girl would go out to work without any socks to protect her from blisters, or leave her bacon on just long enough that it lost its slight chewy quality, or any other sort of small bothers that would instill in her subconsciousness the notion that maybe there was no point to anything and she should just run off to Iceland at her next chance. And, since the events of the past fortnight and a half's tuesday had slipped from the girl's mind, she naturally woke up early on her day off.
She'd sat in bed for a long minute or two, rubbing her eyes groggily and wondering why she couldn't just stay in bed sometimes, before finally shlepping off to the bathroom to wash and rinse and perform all those other tidy little actions in her morning routine. J.J. had dressed in her usual singing telegram attire—opague tights, glittered vest, and insubstantial shorts—and choked down a rushed, I'm-going-to-be-late bowl of cold cereal before realizing her error. In fact, she didn't remember that she did not need to go to work today until she'd already stepped out into the hall and begun the process of locking her incredibly tempermental door. Once she did remember, though...
"Bollocks piss fuck bugger," she muttered after her realization. Janet leaned her forehead against the door and took a deep breath, releasing it in a low hiss. "It's Wednesday, isn't? Course it is. I really do need to try 'n' anticipate these things." Shaking her head ruefully, she straightened up, counted to ten internally, and began the time consuming process of getting back into her flat. Easier said then done, really; the inanimate prat generally preferred you not touch him (of course her doorknob was a him, she really should name him one of these days) for a good long while between uses. So it went that, by the time Janey made it inside, her body was fully awake and ready to start a now unplanned day. And the newspaper hadn't even been delivered yet.
Tsking, the girl set about changing out of her ever provactive Miss Jay uniform and into something a little more...well, a little more Plain Miss Jane, really. Which suited her just fine—she liked cardigans, and she liked frocks, and if she resembled a slightly less colour coordinated Doris Day, Hollywood's oldest virgin, no matter. She'd quite enjoyed Pillow Talk. Smoothing down her polka dotted skirt, J.J. made one last visual sweep of her tiny living quarters, just to assure herself she hadn't forgotten anything else. Which she hadn't, as usual: her 'off' mornings just affected one thing usually. If they caused more strife then they already did, then they'd be her 'bad' mornings, now wouldn't they?
A substantial amount of time later, with her lock positively livid at being disturbed three times in such an early morning, Janey found herself wandering the city streets, enjoying that rare treat of watching London properly awaken. The shop keepers making their final preparations in anticipation of the day's customers, the sun stretching lazily and deciding whether it was in a mild or a tempermental mood today, and the police men strolling about to protect the city's denizens from crime and harm and jelly...babies? Well, if that was the case, the men certainly weren't having a sufficient go at it; the girl watched one of the hard, sticky sweets positively fly through the air and pounce on an unsuspecting copper.
She giggled, clasping a hand to her mouth to avoid irking the police man anymore than his sugary nemesis already had, and began looking about for the disturbance. Seeing as the jelly baby had come from behind a quietly sniggering mail box, that seemed just the place to start. Carefully, J.J. crept up to the mail box and craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the as of yet anonymous rabble rouser. Aha! The tall, skinny bloke contorting himself behind the red box certainly seemed to fit the bill. So she bent down until she was just properly positioned to whisper in his ear, before commenting, "Way I see it, I've got two choices: turn you in and be a good samaritan, or wait and see if you can knock his cap off next."
Perhaps this wasn't such an 'off' morning after all.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by joj on Jul 21, 2011 11:14:09 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,458,true][atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/TMIDDLE-1.png]This was just as much a normal day in on one of those not-so-busy-days in the life of a Beatle. All consisted of aimless wandering through whatever town or continent one finds themselves on. Causing trouble on the streets for giggles. And occasionally hitting up all the good pubs and eating hot spot. Which wasn’t exactly a bad life… It was all just one big adventure, after all. But it wasn’t always like this. Today happened to be a quiet day for the band. One of those days Brian would sit around the flat with paperwork, looking for their next gig. Leaving the four lads freedom to do what they wanted (which were all things Brian would have disapproved of if he knew just exactly what those things were.)
He clenched his stomach to try and calm the laughter in his gut from becoming too loud. The park sentry was still dancing about on the pavement, looking around like a lost dog. His partner, stifling a laugh with the back of his hand. Stopping when the other police man looked his way.
Now this was fun. George counted to five slowly, and peered back around, another Jelly Baby securely in his fingers. Ready for launch. He began to move back to face the rozzers, when a soft voice appeared suddenly close to one ear. If hadn’t been for his already composed frame of mind that day, he might have jumped from his skin. But instead, he froze on spot, eyes still not turning to look at the new arrival, and whispered back softly. ”and which of these two girls am I talking to? The good Samaritan, or the girl who’s gonna sit down nd’ keep the ammo commin’ while we de-hat a rozzy?” a small, almost sweet smile crossed his lips, and he slowly turned his face to Janet. She was quite a thing. Short, rich brown hair. Bright eyes.
He stared up at her and finally laughed, one hand extended towards her, offering to lower her down next to him. He could use some company on a day like this… what fun was chucking Jelly Babies if he had no one to share the laughs with? ”Eh, look,”
|
[/color] he peered carefully out at the scene across the street, both men where glaring into the park. ”Now we’ve got ‘im.”[/color] POST: done ! - TAG: Janet ! - NOTES: 387words. LOL well that's cute XD [/justify] [/color][/blockquote] [/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
|
|
|
Post by JANET ANDREA WILDE on Jul 22, 2011 23:02:16 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://webdesignledger.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/ornate_1.jpg) ] after all is said & done You're gonna say you'll miss me. You're gonna say you'll kiss me. Yes, you're gonna say you'll love me - - - - - - - - - - - - Well. She had expected him to jump a mile outta of his skin in a manner that might've attracted the coppers' unfriendly attention, perhaps let out a squawk or at the very least a not entirely masculine yelp. Those were the sorta reactions Janey was used to when teasing boys, ever since childhood—oh, that Jim from band camp was always good for a laugh; whatever became of him?—and in to the current day, what with the pranks she pulled on the elevator boys in her buildings, and the way she made her manager sweat from her jestful flirtations. But this guy had stayed perfectly stil, didn't make a peep. Hell, the only indictation that he'd even heard her was a scarcely noticable tensing of his shoulders and the fact that he had replied. No point in denying it, Janet was impressed.
She chuckled softly at his retort, before quipping back, "Who says they're diff'rent girls? Wouldja say Superman and that Clark Kent're two seperate entities?" Goodness, after two years of living in London, interracting with very few people other than the clients who received her messages and her often ditzy coworkers, it was so nice to be able to banter with someone quick on the uptake. Made her feel that it was quite all right she spent so much time reading her Oscar Wilde (how sad, that day she was told he wasn't a relation) and watching that Katharine Hepburn growing up, when she found a person who understood conversation. J.J. was liking this anonymous sweets launcher more and more. "Maybe it just depends whether you've caught me with the mask on or the cape off, hmm?"
She chanced a quick look back over at the police men, and nearly blew their cover at the sight of the afflicted man's partner fighting as hard to control his laughter as she and the jelly babies bloke were. "Mayhaps they're not all a lost cause, the rozzies," the girl suggested. "Perchance if they're expos—oh..."
For he had finally turned around, her daft companion; she recognized his increasingly famous face, and the surprise of seeing it outside Al Dee's more than sufficient to make her chatter falter. Now what, Janet asked herself, was one fourth of Britain's best musical group doing throwing jelly babies at police men? And so early in the morning, no less. If she was prone to sensationalism, she would've chalked it up to drug abuse then and there, and marched off to the nearest tabloid to spill her story for the right price. If she was prone to sensationalism...but he looked so harmless, really, smiling that hopeful yet toothy smile she'd yet to see properly captured on film.
So, assured by his laugh and answering it with a giggle of her own, she took his hand and lowered herself down quietly, disregarding the notion that she shouldn't be playing with him just because he was George Harrison of the Beatles. "Oh, let's not aim for the other one," J.J. murmured earnestly, doing her best to ignore the fact that, though both thin, it was rather close for comfort with the two of them 'hind the mail box. "He seem like he'd be all right, really, if he could only laugh more." |
|
|
