Bandwagon, ahoy!

[leslie_and_tk]

Name me one of my characters, and a date in their lives, and I will tell you, in 3 to 8 sentences, about something that happened to them on that day.

In exchange, you must post this in your journal!

Yada, yada... When you ask, feel free to ask for multiple dates per character, if you're so inclined. This sounds amusing.

Comments

[penna_regnum]

Jean, August 12th 1997

TK, October 10th 2003

Michelle, April 2nd 1994

[speed_limit_55]

It was the type of heat that could melt your shoes to the sidewalk if you stood too long in one spot... Jean, however, wasn’t standing idle. She ran pell-mell down the street, sweat running down her forehead and intermingling with her tears.

Her mother would be angry with her for not waiting on the stoop to be picked up, like she was instructed. New York was not especially safe for a girl her age to be wandering around on her own, but in this neighborhood, it was the colour of her skin, not her age, that put her at risk.

She couldn’t stay on the stoop, just couldn’t - not with the group of teenage boys on the sidewalk who taunted her, jeered at her, shamed her for something she couldn‘t fix.

She hated them, those boys, loathed them, detested them... But she hated the colour of her skin even more.

[speed_limit_55]

“That’s neat - where did you learn how to do that!?” Michelle giggled. She wiggled in her seat at the small breakfast nook, her eyes were wide and shining bright in wonderment, a grin plastered across her face.

Michael, while waiting for the skillet to heat up to start breakfast, had started to juggle some eggs. He grinned cockily at his baby sister’s delight. “Like that, huh? Watch this!” He threw the eggs up a bit higher, and in an impressive act of timing and coordination, caught one egg in the breast pocket of his shirt, one in the back pocket of his shorts, and one in the baseball cap he had been wearing, which he whipped off his head just in time.

Michelle stood on the foot-rest bars of the stool she’d been sitting on and applauded “Teach me to do that!”

[leslie_and_tk]

It was sheer laziness that got her into this predicament. Laziness that stopped her hunting for a foot stool so she may reach the book on that high shelf in the library... Also, stupidity, maybe, that she hadn’t realized the shelves wouldn’t hold her weight when she decided to go scaling up the shelf to reach that damn book.

And so now TK lay buried in an avalanche of books on the floor between bookcases, and she could hear Pince’s hurried footsteps coming in her direction.

Lesson learned.

[sally_licious]

Kami. April 1, 2010.

And then... Kami. April 2, 2010.

[bob_ray_wendy]

She had done it - she had finally done it, and she could not be more proud of herself.

It had taken months and months of preparation to get to this point... Through the acts of begging, borrowing and stealing, pulling countless favors and redeeming IOUS others had owed her since she first arrived at Hogwarts, she had done it.

It was to be her biggest heist yet.

She had acquired thousands upon thousands, maybe even millions of rubber bouncy balls. They filled three cardboard refrigerator boxes to the very top quite nicely... In fact, if you must know, the very same three refrigerator boxes that now stood at the top of the grand staircase that lead down to the Great Hall.

Lunch hour was almost over - history was about to be made.

[bob_ray_wendy]

It was Kami’s long-held belief that the caliber of the prank you pulled was in direct correlation to how many days you would serve in detention after the fact. The grander and more impressive the prank, the more days you spent in the hookey or doing ‘community service,’ as she liked to think of it.

Of course, getting away with it was more impressive... but that wasn’t the case this time around.

Detention to the end of the school year - woof. That was nothing to sneeze at. And the 200 points from Gryffindor pretty much ensured that they would not be winning the House Cup this year.

Ah well, she thought, as she made her way to serve the second night of her sentence. Not like I’ve ever been terribly social or popular here anyway.

[secondaryworld]

Eric, June 8th 1999

Alsoooo Leslie, February 28th 2001.

[speed_limit_55]

“I’m sorry - I really shouldn’t’ve dared you to climb that tree.” Sara said apologetically as she stuck a racecar bandaid on Eric’s knee. The two were huddled in the garden shed, and the air smelled like damp earth and freshly mowed grass.

“It’s fine,” Eric sighed, looking at the knee he has scraped a little mournfully “I shouldn’t’ve taken the dare in the first place.”

“Will your mom be mad at you for tearing your new shorts?” she looked at him a little worriedly, her pale blue eyes framed by long blond eyelashes.

“... No, not really.” he lied.

“Ok, then!” she hopped up. “Let’s go look for geckos in the flower bed!” she then leaned and gave him a sticky kiss on the cheek, something she had never done before, then hurried out of the shed.

Eric blinked after her, surprised, with a blush creeping up his cheeks, and then followed.

[leslie_and_tk]

Leslie hated the tea parties her mother threw. There was nothing more boring to her than having to sit politely still at a table full of grown ups for a few hours in an itchy chiffon dress, listening to them talk and gossip and gossip and talk.

She picked the strawberry off the overly-expensive slice of cake she was given and ate it. She wished Adele was here - maybe even the girl across the hall, who disliked her and made her Shih Tzu growl at her. Just someone her age, really, who would keep her company while the grown ups did their thing.

When her tea was finished steeping, she pulled the bag half way out, and crushed it against the side of the cup with her spoon, so all the tea squeezed out. She never really knew what to do with the tea bag afterwards, it seemed weird to just leave it out in the open, and rude to excuse yourself just to throw it away, so she did what she usually did; she discreetly slipped it into her pocket to be disposed of later.

[secondaryworld]

Midge, May 30th 1997.

Cymry, August 12th 1994.

[brain_munchers]

“And that concludes our final session, Miss Sullivan.” the private tutor, Miss Moore, smiled - she was 23 at the most, with honey blond hair tied back in a bun, and wine red lips. She had been Midge’s home school instructor for the past 2 years.

“Great.” Midge mumbled distractedly as she stood looking out the bay windows, at the circular drive way down below.

Miss Moore started to gather up her papers and books off the desk “If you’re nervous about taking your exams, don’t be. I’m confident you’ll pass with flying colours.” she said as she shouldered her bag and walked over to shake Midge’s hand goodbye.

Midge looked around at her, hesitated and took a deep breath “Miss Moore,” she said in a rush “would you like to go out this Saturday?”

Miss Moore stared at her in shock “I-I’m not sure that would be appropri-” but she stopped as Midge looked at her intensely, and breathed in a shuddering breath “…What time?”