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Post by Administrator on Jan 5, 2008 18:45:07 GMT -5
Orchard Beach is nice and sandy! Come here to hang out in the sun, or even sell some papes to beach goers!
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Post by twich on Jan 8, 2008 20:17:08 GMT -5
Twich walked along the beach watching the waves lap up against the shore, a large brown dog followed at his heals, it wasn't his, he actually had never seen it before, but he was enjoying its company. He ran his fingers through its dusty hair and it looked up at him. It licked Twichs fingers. He stopped, just for a moment, to look around him two sea gulls fought over a dead fish, the smell was dreadfully, low tide and it was cold, the middle of January. But to him, everything was truly beautiful. He sat down and buried his bare feet in the ground, raping his are arm around the dog, he closed he eyes.
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Post by Dr. Walter House on Jan 23, 2008 11:46:49 GMT -5
Dr. Walter House followed the dog outto the beach. The poor thing had taken a shine to him after House had fed him a bit of his lunch, then ran off just as he was trying to fasten a leash for the dog out of his own belt. It was probably just lost, as it didn't look like it was going hungry and generally well taken care of.
House removed his shoes and socks, letting his feet touch the cold sand, seeing the dog again and the little boy it was following. "Excuse me!" House shouted over the distance and dying waves, walking closer.
Then he recognized the boy. He had seen the kid about a month ago, at the fair with his niece. She never spoke about him, of course, but he had seen them eat lunch and play a few games together. He wasn't angry though, he knew why she didn't say anything. The boy was obviously a street urchin and she knew her uncle would never approve of friends like that. And that's why she hardly had any.
"Is he your dog?" House asked, though he knew it wasn't. He didn't want to scare the boy away.
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Post by twich on Jan 23, 2008 15:50:47 GMT -5
"Oh, no s-s-sorry, I-I-I didn't think anyone would mind." Twich took his arm off the dog and scooted back the dog licked him in the face and couldn't help smile. "I didn't t-t-think he belonged to anyone, I mean h-h-he is yours right?" Twich stuttered.
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Post by Dr. Walter House on Jan 23, 2008 17:46:24 GMT -5
"No, actually," Dr. House pulled his pants legs up slightly, croutching down beside the boy and dog, petting the dog. "I think this fella's lost... He's not the only one either," he sighed then looked to the boy, "I've seen you before. About a month ago, you were at Steeplechase? I brought my niece. Let her go off on her own..."
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Post by twich on Jan 23, 2008 19:49:24 GMT -5
Twich flinched when the man crouched beside him. "Oh, umm, yeah, I'm s-s-sorry I-I-I didn't mean to, she said you w-w-where t-t-there but uhhhh." he turned to the dog burring his face in its dirty fur, Twich refusing to make any eye contact whatsoever with the Doctor, worrying he had messed up, again, he sighed heavily.
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Post by Dr. Walter House on Jan 24, 2008 11:47:34 GMT -5
"No, it's alright," House spoke a bit kinder than he would have. Lara disappearing forced him to actually talk to people. "She seemed to have a good time with you... My name's Walter House. Doctor." He paused, "What's your name, son?"
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Post by twich on Jan 24, 2008 15:55:36 GMT -5
"T-t-twich" he stuck out his hand, drew it back, then stuck it out again. He grinned sheepishly. "Ummm," he mumbled, not really sure of what to do he looked at the Doctor for approval. It was obvious he didn't get out much...
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Post by Dr. Walter House on Feb 3, 2008 0:29:12 GMT -5
"Twitch," House shook the boy's hand, firmly, once and then let go. A small smile came to his lips, "Is that you're real name?"
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Post by twich on Feb 3, 2008 16:01:29 GMT -5
"o-o-oh, uh, uh no, not really my real name if you will, is Danial but I don't like t-t-that name very much" Twich stuttered now wishing he hadn't told the Doctor this bit of information. "I like Twich better." actually, he hated Twich to, but at least it was better than Danial.
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Post by Dr. Walter House on Feb 23, 2008 0:21:54 GMT -5
"Alright, Twitch..." House nodded, then took a deep breath, "Lara's run away... Have you seen her?"
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Post by twich on Feb 28, 2008 19:05:18 GMT -5
Twich's stomach lurched, when he had met her, she honestly did seem like the type to run off. "O-o-oh, I s-s-see." he suddenly did not know what to say. He looked around and picked at his pants and wrinkled up his eyebrows. "D-d-do you have any idea of w-w-where she went, d-d-did you check everywhere?" he asked, suddenly becoming very worried about the young, pleasant girl he had met and Coney Island that cold day.
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Post by Dr. Walter House on Mar 1, 2008 15:38:39 GMT -5
House shook his head, "Not really. I don't know where I would even start. I've checked all the hospitals, just in case, first, though. But I thought I would start with a few clues before gallivanting off around town.... Did she ever mention anything about," He seemed to wince at the word, "acting to you?" Lara was so like her mother and the last thing Walter wanted was for her to end up like her, as much as he loved his sister.
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Post by twich on Mar 9, 2008 15:31:56 GMT -5
Twich bit his lip and shook his head. "N-n-no, I don't think she did. He Cracked his nuckles and cramed his blistered hands into his pockets. He dug his feet into the cold sand as rain started to fall. Hee covered his head and sighed. Twich hated the rain. He had no where to go.
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Post by mordecai on Apr 4, 2008 11:50:35 GMT -5
[[New Day]]
He stared down at his notepad, looking at his horrible scrawl that he called 'handwriting' and wishing he could think of something better to write about than some stupid beach. A freelance writer... he would love to be one, but he couldn't afford to be. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he tapped his pencil against the notepad. Already there was a mess of balled up paper around him with a few whiskey bottles and some remains of cigarettes that showed just how long he had been sitting there.
It was starting to get cold, a cool breeze blowing sand onto his clean suit (although to be fair it wouldn't be clean for long if he stayed there or stopped by a bar afterward) and he stared at the individual grains with something like disgust before taking a long swig from the half-full whiskey bottle. "Ay couldn't juss write stories and get famous?" He wondered aloud, knowing that he had very little life experience except his adventure on the boat to America and even that wasn't as exciting as one would think.
"Ay 'appun ter be talented, but why doesn't 'e at least gizza a raise? Ay deserve some more money... ay 'aven't," he took another drink, looked down at his feet and realized he had an audience. A small cat, so small it could fit in his hand, was staring up at him. It was an adorable thing, really, but his irritation at his boss and his own lack of money overshadowed this. He stared at the animal, patted it lightly on the head and proceeded to stare moodily at his note pad.
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