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Post by GEORGE FREDERICK BARLOW on Jul 6, 2012 16:27:46 GMT -5
If there was one thing George didn’t miss about London it was the weather. All day, everyday, grey and miserable. Everyone was so anonymous - suits for the office, black umbrellas, no one speaking on the tube. Visiting his family at Christmas always led George to feel so glad for living in Orange County. The absence of snow was slightly disappointing, but the snow in England was only for a few days, and the rest was just rain or wind, or the very infrequent sunny patch. His life here was such a sharp contrast, and the past four years had led to him believing he couldn’t live anywhere without such beautiful weather. George had always been an early riser, and that morning he had been up at 7:15, before going for a run. Running was one of the few things George was consistent with. Most of his life was a mishmash of spontaneity and just doing whatever he fancied. But he ran nearly everyday. As with every day, it took him an age to get dressed. Not because he couldn’t decide what to wear, or that he spent hours doing his hair or whatever, but simply because his apartment was such a mess. He was sure that if one day he woke up and decided to move on, he would do. And even though he’d lived there for four years, his apartment was a mess of clothes folded in boxes and stacks of books with no bookshelves and a stray cat that he’d invited to stay with him a few years ago.
The best thing about where he lived would always be its close proximity to the beach. Having left, it was only five minutes until he was walking along, past the merchants with their tourist items and ice creams. George made his way onto the beach, walking across the golden sands and picking a spot that was less inhabited by the sun-loving teenage girls or small children or tourists. Dropping down, he laid back on his forearms, one hand up to his eyes to shield the sun as he gazed upwards into the sun. It was probably a perfect day for the beach - pretty much no clouds, but fairly strong waves rolling in, making it a good day for surfing. Elizza had made plans with him to meet him here, maybe teach him a bit of surfing since she was the expert and he’d only had a go once, on the mediocre shores of Cornwall, on a drizzly afternoon. In contrast, he’d much rather be here, where a trip into the ocean didn’t result in pneumonia.
WORDS: 438 OUTFIT: click NOTES: sozzla, not the best
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Post by ELIZZA MARILYN SHIELDS on Jul 6, 2012 22:56:20 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 350px; background-color: ffffff;][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: ffffff; text-align: left;]tagged: george word-count: 327 notes: its all good ^^ |
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nothing was better than sitting with nothing to do on the beach. she absolutely loved the ocean. it was her home almost and she just couldn't get away from it. elizza didn't really have anything planned that day except getting together with George. she was planning on helping him out a bit with his surfing. but this wasn't all going to be about surf, elizza needed her breaks and they needed more time to hang out. he was one of her best and closest friends and to elizza, friends are the most important in her life. she needed them, and they were always there during hard times.
elizza was already down at the beach, she practically lived there. she looked at her phone for the time and her gaze moved to the ocean. she was behind the counter grabbing the surfboards. two was a hassle for her, but luckily someone came to help her out. as she began walking down the beach, she slowed down a bit to look around for george. she stopped, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. she then spotted him near the shore, laying back on the sand. "just set it here, thanks," she told the boy that helped her out. she set her board beside it and decided to sneak up on him. it was always more fun than just walking up and saying hello.
she strolled on down the beach a bit quicker, slowing down as she got closer to him. with a smirk she went on her knees and walked her way behind him. biting her lip, she tried not laugh. she wasn't sure if he'd known she was there or not, but she continued on. elizza leaned over him, looking down at him upside-down, with a quick, "hi there!" her smile was bright on her face then. "i always have to come find you, don't i?" she tilted her head she added, "should be the other way around."
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Post by GEORGE FREDERICK BARLOW on Jul 8, 2012 8:28:29 GMT -5
Since moving to Cali, George had felt like he stuck out a bit like a sore thumb. first of all, there was his name. George. It was just so quintessentially british, he had failed to come across another George in his time in the US. secondly, there was this accent. it cut through the american drawl of everyone around him, and he had still persisted not to pick up americanisms such as ‘sidewalk’ and ‘candy’, and it seemed the first thing anyone ever said to him was “oh, you’re English?!”. The final thing that set him apart from the locals was surfing. Since he’d lived in London his whole life, there was obviously no sea nearby. even if he’d lived in cornwall, on the southern coast of england, the waves were still nothing compared to those round here. And it seemed he was the one person in the whole of orange county who hadn’t mastered a surf board. george himself wasn’t even sure why he hadn’t. he was often at the beach when he wasn’t working since he pretty much lived two seconds away, soaking up the sun or whatever, but he’d never been inclined to try out surfing himself.
Today that was to change, and he was sure he’d make a fool of himself in the process. at least it was elizza teaching him. the two had been friends for a while now, and she was the first person george had properly gotten to know after moving to the area. she was fun, and george could rely on her for a good time. he felt so close to her that he often couldn’t believe he hadn’t known the girl for longer.
as the sudden face of the blonde haired girl appeared above his, george jumped, not even recognising elizza for a moment with her distorted upside-down features. he rolled his eyes playfully at her, just thankful that he hadn’t yelled out as she had jumped up on him. he squinted to see her bright smile against the sun, a smile tracking his own features. he listened to her, and a laugh escaped his lips. it was true - people always did have to find him. he was simply to unorganised to know where he was supposed to people or at what time. george rarely even made full plans, instead just saying things would always wok out and they’d find each other somewhere. this quality was one that annoyed a lot of people, including his one long term relationship in high school. he was hopeless, just followed his heart and watched things unfold, good or bad. whereas she was organised, planning everything to a tee. that was why, after their gap year travelling, they had gone their separate ways - george carried on travelling whilst she went home to england and university. they were two people who just didn’t fit together.
in one swift movement, george took hold of elizza’s forearms, and rolled both himself and her over, so that their positions were reversed: elizza was lying on the ground and his face was upside down above hers, just how he’d been a few seconds before. he smiled down at her face, moving a few strands of her hair. “well, we all know that you’re the one who’s chasing me” he said slyly, before pushing himself to his feet and offering elizza a hand to pull her up with.
WORDS: 569 OUTFIT: click NOTES: cuuuuute! :3
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Post by ELIZZA MARILYN SHIELDS on Jul 8, 2012 12:39:29 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 350px; background-color: ffffff;][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: ffffff; text-align: left;]tagged: george word-count: 478 notes: sooooooo cute! |
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elizza smirked, feeling rather good about making george jump. she already felt accomplished. although, of course she'd feel more accomplished if she actually got him on a board, that was only the first step. she knew that he mentioned trying it once before, so he'd have to remember some tid-bits about it all. elizza really wanted to surf professionally. she didn't know what was keeping her from doing so. she was out of college and had the best job she could have ever asked for, so really there wasn't anything holding her back. she'd figure it out one day, but for now she was sharing her knowledge with others. it was rewarding both ways - she got to stick around at the beach and surf, and they got to learn how to surf. she remembered doing groups in the summer before with a the other instructors. it was always fun and a good laugh at times, she could never help herself sometimes. but most of the time she pulled herself together. something about the ocean and the beach that just pulled her away from everything. she loved it, that's why she was mostly found around the beach.
he grabbed hold of her forearms and before she knew it, she was on the ground and he was the one looking over her. she narrowed her eyes at him as he spoke, a smile still mirroring his. she opened her mouth in shock as he got up. she sat up and took his hand, getting back up on her feet. she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head at him. "reverse psychology? trying to tell me something, george?" she then shook her head and poked his side before walking up the beach towards the boards. "i am not, i can debate with you on that one," she said airily, not really meaning it.
she'd been friends with george for quite some time, they knew each other inside out. sometimes elizza wondered how the two even became such close friends, it just kind of worked out. she was glad, she rarely had friends she could really trust, two or three at the most. she tended to call a lot of people friends when they were really just people she knew. george and noelle were her true friends and she wasn't planning on loosing them.
elizza looked to george that moment and asked, "you ready to surf?" she was excited to teach him. they would most likely only get to the basics, with george not a lot really gets done. plus elizza's mouth, they were probably going to get as far as getting on the board properly. but elizza had a feeling he'd get it. he skated, which she had done only once in her life. the balance was only transferred to water.
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Post by GEORGE FREDERICK BARLOW on Jul 9, 2012 12:16:47 GMT -5
George had been appalling at talking to girls when he was a youngster. At school, the boy-girl seating plans meant he was often next to girls, but couldn’t ever think of anything to say to them. They were almost like another breed. He’d only improved aged fifteen, when his now ex-girlfriend had showed an interest with him. Being with her for four years meant he was used to being in the company of girls. In those years he became a lot more confident, and now a lot of his friends were girls. He was a bit of a softie, so girls tended to see him as some sweet guy they could pour their hearts out to. As with most guys though, he was pretty poor at giving advice, but he liked to think his cooking skills could make up for that.
“Reverse psychology? No such thing, I’m just not letting you think you can take my manhood.” he laughed, running a hand through his messy dark hair. “Hmm, you’re so certain that you’re willing to debate with me?” he raised an eyebrow at the blonde. “I wouldn’t bother,” he continued, “I’d win - I always win.” He narrowed his eyes at Elizza in mock anger, and playfully batted away her hand as she poked him in the side. Trying to look intimidating was pretty much impossible with a baby face like George’s. He never looked twenty-three, and probably wouldn’t until his late thirties. It just added to the softie people always thought he was when they first met him. By now he’d just accepted that he was going to be IDed forever, and just hoped that his juvenile features where an early indicator that he wouldn’t get wrinkles as he aged.
“Babe, I was born ready” he smirked at Elizza, swapping his own English accent and attempting an american one. The result was proper cheesy. Despite having been living there for four years, he still had yet to master his accent. “Just show me what to do, Mrs Sheilds” he grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulder whilst the other went up to his eyes to block the sun as he looked at the ocean. In all honesty, he was somewhat intimidated by the fact that Elizza was so good. He would probably look like a fool in comparison, and knew that, but just planned to laugh it all off. It was always worse if you were crap at something and took it seriously.
WORDS: 419 OUTFIT: click NOTES: sorry, my muse is most def lacking today
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Post by ELIZZA MARILYN SHIELDS on Jul 10, 2012 0:24:03 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 350px; background-color: ffffff;][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: ffffff; text-align: left;]tagged: george word-count: short notes: noo biggy c: mine's pooey |
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elizza raised her brows at george as he shot her a mocking angry look. she tried hard not to smile but she couldn't help it. he could never really look intimidating on a drop of a dime, he'd have to be going through some real emotions for that. he had a baby face look to him, whereas at times she was the one who looked older. she could never help but blurt out laughing or just smile when he tried, but of all people elizza knew men needed their confidence. bringing down their ego was terrible. elizza used to be pretty tactless, or rather teasing to a point of extreme. but once she started high school she started to calm it down and channel all of it into her flirting. it turned out working, and she was glad for that. george was lucky he looked younger than his age, and he probably would for sometime.
she laughed at his comment about being ready, noticing his swap of accents. he was still trying at the american accent. elizza could turn it on and off whenever she wanted, but naturally you could tell she was a foreigner just from the way she pronounced some words. it wasn't easy she knew that for sure. but she'd lived around it much, much longer than he had. she personally liked his accent better the way it was. she even wished she had a stronger australian accent but she learned to deal, no one ever really cared all that much. "of course you were," she said as he hung his arm over her shoulders.
"it's still miss, mr. barlow," she corrected him as she followed his gaze out at the ocean. her arm wrapped around his waist to give him a squeeze. "okay, let's go then!" she turned towards the boards and gestured to the one the boy had brought out for her. "grab a board." elizza grabbed her own familiar board under her arm.
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