Cutscene! [OPEN]

In front of a french pastry shop, two teenagers were talking to each other. Sitting a expertly designed ivory chairs on a terrace, that overlooked the river Seine. One of the boys, a taller one dressed in a fancy black tuxedo with a silhouetted body. On his head was a magnificent top hat. Sitting casually, almost to the point that he resembled a man in a coma. "Look, Game! You gotta get your crap together." ordered the faceless man. The boy he was communicating too was of equal age. But with brown hair, and visible features. The boys name was Game. A child of slightly above average looks, below average intelligence and a fashion sense of a dead turtle. Wearing a t-shirt with the symbol of a neutron on it. His pants were of the skinny variety. And were a dark green color. "I don't know what you're talking about." Retorted Game, looking away from the silhouette and staring off into the distance. "I'm perfectly put together!"

A blonde girl strode the streets, breathing in the French atmosphere. She was in a simple white t-shirt and black skinny jeans. Just lounge around cloths. She had over average smarts but a temper that seemed to block it out most of the time. So that familiar and unwelcome face ripped her out of the nice time. “Agamemnon Curtis Frasier, I wonder what you‘re up to this time,” she growled, stepping up behind him with a gun of pain pointed to the back of his head. He thought he was perfect, eh? “You‘re about to have your ‘perfect‘ self splattered across-” Her voice was cut off as a big, black bird tackled her to the ground. “Cheryl! Not in a public place!” the bird protested. Though it was really a teenage girl with glow-in-the-dark white skin (Mystery as to how she didn't burn.), black wings, and short, grey hair.. Cheryl cussed under her breath and asked, “Yet you tackle someone with their finger on the trigger of a gun?” But the fallen angel’s crimson eyes locked onto the silhouetted figure and she heard none of the French girl‘s words. “Iron!” she squealed and threw herself at him.

Game froze suddenly as a gun was placed against his noggin. Feeling a burning sensation against his skull as pain flowed into it. He didn't move his head, only stared forward at his Roleplayer who was sitting, emotionless, scanning the menu. "What do you think Game, should I have the chicken or the soup?" he asked. But before Game could answer, a sound like a descending rocket echoed around him, and something slammed into Cheryl next to him. He sighed in relief, glad that the gun of pain had been removed from his head. "Snigger and Cheryl. Yo." he simply murmured. "COME ON! Show some feeling, they nearly killed me!" Game shouted. His faceless roleplayer shook his head. "But they didn't." The silhouette snapped his fingers suddenly, turning transparent as Snigger leaped through him. Intangibility. "Len was never the first to phase."

"Ah, beau-ti-ful France. The cherry of the European Sunday. No?" Came the "oh-so-witty" observation of the scatter-brained cow, Member, as she talked to no one in particular, waving her hooves about as she spoke with her horrid mock-French accent, not caring how bad it was, though it could have used some work. With cape flowing in the wind with the grace of any superhero's. She made her way to the table with a background good enough for a minute's observation.

She walked into the oddest scene of a face planted Cheryl, an anxiety ridden Game, and a Muffin jumping through nothing, which was fun enough as it was. Without much comment or notice of the events she leaned on the table, letting out a characteristic moo.

"What's up?" She asked to no one in particular.

Two teenaged girls walked down the almost deserted streets. One was older than the other, and much taller. The shorter of these two girls was wearing a bright pink jacket and flare leg jeans. Her bright green eyes sparkled with merriment in the dusk light. The other girl, however, was much less uniformly dressed. She was wearing some sort of western outfit, and had bright green hair and wings. She seemed more reserved, as if she was hiding something. The two girls strode at exactly the same rate, matching each other's steps almost exactly. Their voices seemed to mingle into one as they both laughed at the exact same moment. The younger girl's voice suddenly turned serious, "You know Ren, they could really be good for you." The girl called Ren looked sceptical. She turned to face the setting sun. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Kiwiattack, what's going on?" Kiwi cut her off, "You know, you don't' have to call me by my full name, and what do you mean? I don't see anythi-" She grinned. Her grin broadened into a smile when she saw her friends at the nearby cafe. She could go for some donuts right about now. "Hey Iron, Snig, Mem!" Kiwi ran off to join the trio. "What're you guys doing here?"

Jet, a blonde teenager girl, strut down a narrow street of France. She enjoyed the fresh air, and the language that she was surrounded in. Behind her Ashton Stevens had a camera in her hand, taking pictures left and right. They were both dressed in skinny jeans, blouses and small ballet flats.The pair soon came to a near by cafe, Ashton's feet hurting to much to walk anymore, so they decided to stop. They looked in the window, there was Game, and his Roleplayer, Iron, and Cheryl and her Roleplayer, Snigger, and Member, the cool looking cow, and, Ren with her role-player, Kiwi~. The cafe looked neat and sophisticated, a nice place to catch up. It looked like they stopped in the right spot. Jet and Ashton grabbed to chair from a near by, empty table and sat with the five … six? "Hey." Ashton waved. "'Ello." The role-player spoke.

.. Eh. Museless.

Member looked to the side nonchalantly, a grin of odd proportions on her face as Kiwi decided to drop by with her Ilet-girl Ren, the two as synchronized a newly updated iPod. "Makin' sammiches," she replied, putting the finishing slice of bread on top of a newly made sandwich, produced seemingly out of nowhere, and handed it to her newly arrived companion in an offering. It was always nice to share.

Next came Jet, or Jetter, with her side-by character Ashton, taking pictures or whatnot. She preferred to just look. Pictures never lasted. "Whaddup, brooski?" She asked with the same grin, tail swaying side to side in a rhythmic manner.

The fallen angel curled up in a ball on the ground and pouted. “Iron’s a meanie,” she whimpered. Such one for dramatics. Cheryl got off the ground, giving herself a good dusting off. “Snigger you are dead to me,” she said before shooting a bullet into her roleplayer’s teary eye. “The audacity!” she cried, blood dripping down her face. She pulled the pain bullet out, actually not feeling the pain, and her face regenerated. She sighed, “Cheryl needs to be nicer before I make some changes she’ll like even less.” But a cow with a cape made a creepy smile appear. “Member!” All the warning her friend had before she was clung to. “You should start a fight with Iron and destroy some stuff!” Cheryl tapped her foot and grumbled something along the line of violence. “Yo Kiwi!” the roleplayer greeted smoothly, a high look now dominating her face. Then Jetter arrived. “What’s crackalakin?” Right after she said that, though, something shot across the scene and was there again. Cheryl just couldn’t keep her anger down, could she. But now there was shotgun pointed right into Game’s face. This time, though, Snigger didn’t care what her character did. Their little assortment of people had already cleared away the normal people. But that didn't mean that girl was seriously getting anger management sessions after this episode.

A large smile appeared on Member's face when she was clung to after the regular shout of her name. She hugged the latching friend, but it wasn't that long before her attention was grabbed by Cheryl. She was angry as usual and at Game, but Member wasn't sure what it was for. It didn't matter, she didn't care. She was just preoccupied with the shotgun she had. "Oo," she murmured in an awestruck and childish manner. Reaching out, the interested Member tried to snatch the gun so she could play with it for her own personal entertainment. Somehow, even with hooves, she was able to grab things rather easily.

A tall brunette sat just a little ways away from the group of people, her eyes downcast. They hadn't even noticed her! But then, that was her own fault... "Lennon! Get your butt up for God's sake!" cried an indignant voice. The RolePlayer scowled. Her hair was brown-or, a very, very dirty blond-and shoulder-length. Er, a little past her shoulders. Small, metallic pink glasses rimmed deep brown eyes inherited from her mother, and she looked down at her dirty jeans, pretending not to hear her character's demand. Two dog tags hung from her neck, the hot-pink silencers making sure they didn't clang and making her seem even quieter.

The blue-eyed character hissed and stalked over, yanking the girl up by her wrist. "Damn it, you made me sociable so you have to be too!" she snapped. Lennon glared back defiantly. "I can kill you sooner, if you want, Adailia." Her voice was cold and smooth. But the more mature, more female, more mature voice was underlying the child's voice. The character never flinched. "And I can knock 'ya out right here." she threatened back.

"I can't believe I made a vampire scared of you. You're about as harmless as a kitten!" Lennon scoffed, yanking her hand away and rubbing her wrist. Adailia glared at her. "What? Sure, you can beat up the other characters, but not me." Lennon stared past her, eyes widening. Her voice was an excited squeal. "Oooh~! They're all here! I didn't notice them!" Amazing. They were being louder than the marching band and she couldn't hear. finished Adailia, anger flooding her features.

Lennon didn't notice. The book she'd clutched so tightly in her hands before, disguised by her hair because of her face being practically in the pages, was left on the bench. Adailia groaned. "My God woman! This is the sixth time you've read that! And it six-hundred-thirty-eight pages long!" She jabbed a finger at the book, but her RPer didn't notice. She was too busy flinging herself at the friend that was closest. "HEYY JETTER!" she chimed, her voice sing-songy.

Uhm. I like this pic. :L
https://2img.net/h/oi54.tinypic.com/2rmumog.png
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In the crook of a tall tree, where the branches separate and spread out to support the huge canopy of yellowing leaves, sat a girl. She was a little less than five feet tall, with a sort-of rounded head and a pointed chin. Dark brown hair around two-three inches below her shoulder level poked out from beneath a black-and-white Tapout cap, the loose strands showing auburn in the light of the pre-Autumn sun. A single white earbud wire ran from her right ear to the lime green iPod Nano Chromatic in the pocket of her loose black hoodie. The dark purple numbers and smaller white words sewn on the front of the hoodie were folded from the zipper, and the hem reached down to her black skinny jeans.

The girl was focused on her book, titled Ghostgirl: Homecoming. The silhouette of a girl was adorned on the hardcover, with silvers, violets, and blacks twisting around the hand-mirror-shaped frame. Her almond-shaped dark brown eyes skimmed quickly over the pages, and occasionally, a tiny smile would tease at the corners of her lips. A tiny portion of her attention was on the music; one of her white, silver, and purple high tops with tiny violet monarch butterflies twisting along the sides tapped rhythmically against the bark of the thick branch.

On the opposite side of the tree sat another girl of around the same height - probably no more than two inches taller than the first. The other earbud revealed itself as she reached up with a delicate hand to tuck a strand of loose ash brown hair behind her left ear. This girl wasn't focused on reading. Instead, she held a pastel blue pencil in her hand as she sketched in a fat notebook, brushing a fallen leaf away from the paper every once in a while. The creamy white pages were unscathed; her roleplayer had gotten her a new notebook-slash-sketchbook after her previous one had been destroyed.

Suddenly, the first girl snapped her book closed with a black-and-hot-pink makeshift Nitrogen bookmark tucked safely in its pages. She reached behind her with her right arm and plucked the earbud from her character's ear. "Hey!" Kaira exclaimed indignantly. "I like that song." The brunette's roleplayer ignored her character and shut off the iPod before removing her own earbud and wrapping the cord around the music player, tucking it into the depths of her pocket. "Whatcha drawin'?" She asked in a somewhat sing-song voice.

Kaira fixed her violet optics on her roleplayer. "None of your business, Kya." She informed her, flipping the cover of the notebook over the sketch before the other girl could see. The roleplayer frowned. "It is my business, 'cause you're my character." She retorted. And with that, she reached over and snatched the sketchbook from Kaira's protesting hands. She flipped through the pages until she got to the most recent drawing. Her eyes widened slightly. "What. The. Hell! That is so going into the incinerator!" She yelped, tearing the page from the sketchbook and making it seemingly dissolve into thin air and transported to said place, when, in reality, it was sent to her room, under the pillow, where not even Kaira had access to.

The slightly taller brunette glared daggers at Kyashii. "What? It's not like you mind." Kya stared back in exasperation, the flush already starting to disappear from her cheeks. "Well, yeah, but still!" She slumped back against the tree, muttering something under her breath. Kaira rolled her eyes. "Okay... can I have my sketchbook back now?" She twirled the pencil impatiently between her fingers. "Fine. Here you go." Kya shoved the thick notebook back at Kaira.

It was surprising that the two girls hadn't noticed the group only around a hundred feet away, at ground level. Perhaps the branches and leaves were obscuring their view, but still. Both parties were being rather loud.

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I was really bored. :L