Meridian, Washington is near of Forks, Washington where it faces the Pacific Ocean. Facing the south of Forks, about 4 hours away to be exact. The beaches are cold during the winter but the brave solders that are known, as the local surfers will throw themselves towards it. It is not that far of a drive (maybe 10 hours, 14- depending) of Seattle, Washington but it’s closer to Tacoma.
It’s an upcoming town, known for it’s fresh fishing; it’s granola like way of living. Although there is a Starbucks, a Wal-mart is kind of hard to find. Most people find it the perfect place to raise kids.
But don’t think it’s exactly ‘small town’. Meridian is known for it’s posh record shops (locally known Pet Sounds which has been around for years) and the up and coming cleverly known ‘The Record Shop’. Jitterbug the local coffee shop that rivals Starbucks- for if you’re in Washington, there has to be one. It holds a variety of shops, mostly locally owned. The community as a whole stands firm and very apart of Washington. But as any up and coming town it’s had a boom of youngsters, either moving across the country to discover the place or born and rose near or in Meridian.
Some reasons for Washington not having state taxes taken out of checks, for better education system and public health-care. Other can be because it accepts everyone or any background or culture.
It’s one of those places that if you wanted to reinvent yourself or discover who you are, it’s the place to come.
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Title of Post - [OPEN, CLOSED] (Rating, if necessary)
Location:Meridian, Washington USA Month/Year:October, Year 1 Seasonal Weather: Mild, cold nights. Occasional rain. Light Snow close to the end of the month. Sport Season: Football, Tennis, Water Polo, Volleyball School Events: Halloween Dance [October 31]
Joined: Apr 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 11 Location: The Record Shop
No patience « Thread Started on May 13, 2008, 10:03pm »
WHO: Andrew, Lance, Open WHERE: College Campus WHEN: September 5th
It wasn’t so early morning anymore but Andrew stills felt sleepiness within his eyes, rubbing his eyes he yawned to stretch out which revealed his stomach with a ‘happy trail’ that adorned his stomach underneath his shirt. He pulled down the shirt to shake his head. It would be wiser for him to intake some coffee but he was far too lazy to walk to the coffee shop at the moment. Scratching the back of his head the place seemed nearly empty but it wasn’t.
The old architecture, the old large trees and the bricks that lead them around the paths of the college, it was as old as the town itself it seemed. His palm rubbed his face still had sleep over his face, he decided it would be best to close his jacket because the cold was finally getting to him. The half-hispanic looked around. Some didn’t believe his Columbian accent for he barely spoke the language and because of his vibrant blue eyes, but he tanned dark when under the sun too long. His sharp features were that of his mothers, the mixture of Indian and Spaniard within her blood given to him. The blue in his eyes were of his father, but his attitude were those adopted from the people who had adopted him.
He pulled the hood over his head and crossed his arms across his chest. His appearance more of serious once between the lack of sleep and the need of caffeine that gave him a slightly cruel exterior that he did not mean to give. It didn’t mean that he was in the mood to socialize to begin with.
His music appreciation teacher was late. Andrew was starting to think the man was not going to get here. He placed his hands over his hooded head to let out an exaggerated sigh. The few young adults that were collected about were waiting themselves but Andrew wasn’t paying attention to the faces he possibly knew.
9:45. the ass was late by 45 minutes. Andrew rolled his eyes. “Screw it” he said as he flipped his cell phone closed having opened it just now to check the time. He walked his way to the student lounge which was kind of far… he needed to either catch a nap, think or get some kind of sugar/caffeinated drink in him to stand this bad start of a mourning.
Joined: May 2008 Posts: 4 Location: Out being pretty
Re: No patience « Reply #1 on May 14, 2008, 9:52am »
Another was in the student's lounge this day, Meridian's own celebrity -- one Lance Castille. Seated on one of the luxurious couches made of soft leather, his back was taking the shape of sofa as he dozed off, a pile of books on the table in front of him. In each ear was a wireless headphone, and the soft hum of music had escaped into the air around him.
There were people around of course, some watching the slumbering Lance Castille, others merely peeking. A few had dared to sneak a picture with their camera phones here and there; though none will be appearing on the internet given how in high school, after Lance became a sensation in the modeling scene, pictures of him in the shower room with the football team appeared on the Internet, scandalizing and titillating many at the same time. His manager and publicists spent months scouring the source and suing numerous sites for publishing those pictures; and months later, Team Lance had won the resounding battle, though some would still have those raunchy pictures stored in their hard drives when they were first put up; their own private collection.
He was wearing a white shirt with the first two buttons unbuttoned to tease and hint at his muscular stature. Bell-bottoms, which would look silly and feminine on most guys seemed to fit him perfectly -- a deep indigo blue, with faded patches around the knees, along the calves and inner thighs -- all courtesy of D&G's autumn range -- and who better than to advertise their clothes than a walking, sexual, hormone-inducing model like Lance Castille?
People usually found themselves tongue-tied around him, unable to comprehend how a creature of such utter perfection could exist. Beyond that impeccable face, there was the flawless body that Lance always seemed to exhibit. Indeed, it seemed strange to even see him so clothed today, mainly because for the last Summer, he had been shirtless almost twenty-four-seven.
There was a quiet tension in the room, of the sexual variety. Like some damped up potential, it was impotent until it built up to critical mass; sizzling about and like lightening seeking the ground to strike.
Lance rubs his eyes lazily and stretches, lifting his shirt up slightly to reveal the taut lines of his abdominals and a slight treasure trail that led down to his... neveryoumind. Andrew would be able to see a few in the room shift uncomfortably as they stole glances, a few mouthing a silent 'oh my god!' at the sight of his flesh. His slate gray blue eyes opened up sleepily as he glanced about; picking the opened book on the table again and began to read.
Joined: Apr 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 11 Location: The Record Shop
Re: No patience « Reply #2 on May 17, 2008, 8:47am »
To be honest Andrew Nebelle had no clue who Lance Castille was. It never crossed his mind, because well… Andrew wasn’t really into looking at pictures of models and then asking who they were. To him models were almost as useless to them as the clothes they wore, they were accessories needed to make the whole assemble better. So it would be that Andrew did not know or care for who Lance Castille was and neither he would take in great interest.
He walked into the student lounge after going to buy a soda can; he was still studying the top. His mind wondered to his sister who refused to drink any of it after being a fiend for it. He popped it open having no option but to drink it, heck, he already paid for it. He would never understand his sister and her sudden urges, she always followed them though so he respected that. As he walked in he noticed the strange tension and raised one eyebrow to then ignore it to sip his sugary beverages to see if it would uplift his spirits for the time being.
Moving to sit down, he sat on the couch to notice the leering glances on Lance Castille but yet he didn’t let his eyes study Lance himself. From what he saw was what Jerry Seinfeild and Larry Davis had written on an episode of Jerry Seinfeild to be a mimbo. A mimbo being a male bimbo.
Not Andrew’s cup of tea, soda-pop or coffee and so the young male continued on his own path. He leaned over to take the Spin magazine that was resting on the table before him to put his feet up.
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