Beyond The Train Tracks: Muggaginn 1x1 Against All Odds

[Tossing Spades]

There's got to something more than this....

Code: Select all

[center][img]Image here[/img]
[size=85][b]|Real Name|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color]
[b]|Nickname|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color]

[b]|Theme Song|[/b]
[color=#808080]{Try and find one. If you're having problems I'll be happy to help!}[/color]
[b]|Age|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color]
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
[b]|Eye color|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color]
[b]|Height|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color]
[b]|Body Modifications|[/b]
[color=#808080]{Tattoos, piercings, ect.}[/color]
[b]|Other Pictures|[/b]
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
[b]|Personality|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color]
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
[b]|Usual Clothing|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color]
[b]|Other|[/b]
[color=#808080]xXx[/color][/list][/size]

|Nickname|
Ray
|Theme Song|
Ain't No Rest For The Wicked - Cage The Elephant
Free - Switchfoot
Slow Dancing In A Burning Room - John Mayer
|Age|
18
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
|Eye color|
Amber, with a light green outlining the outer rims.
|Height|
5"6'
|Body Modifications|
Tattoo One
Tattoo Two
Other Pictures|
Mornings
Unwanted
Guitar
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
|Personality|
Raggen lives life to have fun really, but she's obviously very misunderstood. The misunderstanding usually comes from her sarcasam and being brutally honest about her thoughts. People don't seem to like that much about her but she's never cared what others think of her. Going with the flow isn't exactly Ray's thing, mostly because she finds it more amusing to fight the current and see the world in a different way than everyone else does. Raggen's more of a people person than she seems, but when one gets to know her a little more she tends to repell them with her bold personallity. She's got a knack for figuring out people's strenghts and weaknesses, the things that make a certian person tick. This comes in handy usually when in sticky situations, she becomes manipulative in defense. Ray is content with this life of solitude, meeting people that will most likely leave her after a while of knowing her, or just have no interest in getting to know her. Despite the hard outter shell, is one sticks around through thick and thin there's a good heart that lays under the rough edges. Ray is really just a lighthearted, fun-loving girl who really needs someone to care about her.
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
|Usual Clothing|
In photo labeled "Mornings."
|Other|
Nope

[Muggafinn]

|Michael Clark Reed|
xXx
|Mike|
xXx

|Theme Song|
Seven Devils -Florence and the Machine
Set Fire to the Third Bar -Snow Patrol
|Age|
19
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
|Eye Color
Dark Blue
|Height|
5'11
|Body Modifications|
None, his parents would, more or less, eat him alive if he got one.
|Other Pictures|
Still looking!
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
|Personality|
Michael is, to put it simply, careful. Careful about what he does, who he talks to, and where he goes. This, sadly, makes having fun a bit difficult, especially when you're 19 years old, waiting for college applications, and being berated by your parents for not upholding the family name. He's getting a chance to relax, though, due to school being out. After being conditioned for many years to be the cream of the crop, he's virtually forgotten how to interact with people outside his family. When he is forced to talk to someone, even if he's just buying coffee or saying hello, he either can't make eye-contact, or comes across as frosty and indifferent. In such situations, he overanalyzes just about everything he does, worried that he said something wrong or offended the other person. Relatively studious and quiet, he does hold some disdain for those who aren't doing as well as him. In Michael's mind, if you do badly in school, you're doomed for the rest of your life. He himself is intelligent, but could hardly be considered a prodigy, either. He's played the violin since he was young, so he's decent enough at that, but he has to work just as hard as anyone else to remember something.

He can be slightly insensitive around other people, even though he rarely means to upset them. If he does wish to mess with someone else, though, he can be surprisingly conniving. Of course, he is extremely cautious when doing so; getting caught would be a mark against him in the eyes of his parents. And yes, he does smoke, though he does his best to hide it. One has to keep appearances up, and all that,


•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
|Usual Clothing|
A dark turtleneck and jeans, with a grey windbreaker, if it gets too cold. He doesn't have much variation, to be honest.
|Other|
xXx

[Tossing Spades]

▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

҂ R a g g e n ҂ R a y ҂ P i k k e ҂

"Apperently It's a Crime To Be Myself."
▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

{{ "They say I'm just a stupid kid, just a crazy radical,
Rock and roll is dead I probably should've stayed in school,
Another generation X who somehow slipped up through the crack,
They'd love to see me fall but I'm already on my back" }}

"Any to spare?" A woman waved her hand after a man that had passed by her desperately. The man wore a dark suit with a white shirt underneath and a black tie. He didn't even turn around to acknowledge that she was there as he passed by her as if she was a ghost that was severely trying to catch a living persons attention. Raggen shook her head in disappointment and anger towards the greedy man. Exchanging an apologetic look to the woman when she'd caught her eye, Raggen shoved her hands in her pockets of the worn blue jeans and started down the grey streets. The sun was shining brightly and for all those who weren't striving to survive everyday strolled along the sidewalks without a care in the world. In all truth, Raggen hated coming downtown, but it was one of the only places she knew that always had food left from the kitchens when they didn't use it, or when a costumer didn't finish.
After she'd left the downtown area, a little smile came to her face as she spotted the outdoor market on the outskirts. It always seemed bright here, and even more so when she reached the forest that hid the train tracks. Quickly cutting through her own shortcut, Raggen appeared from the forest trees and reached the double train tracks. Pausing like she always did, Raggen looked at the tracks for a moment. Those were the tracks that drew the boundary from the poor to the rich. She knew that just beyond those tracks, hidden behind the thin layer of forest, were large houses - no - mansions. There, lived the stuck-up and snobby. The greedy and 'mannered' people who either owned businesses, won the lottery or maybe even both. It made her sick to think about them, but although she'd never dare admit it, somewhere deep inside, she envied them.

{{ "Now I know I'm not a saint, I been a sinner all my life
I ain't tryin' to hide my flaws, I'd rather keep them in the light
They wanna criticize, scrutinize, cast another stone
Burn me at the stake and sit and watch it from the throne"}}

Probably waited on hand and foot, back yards that they played golf in and pools on their top decks. Living life without a care or worry in the world. It just wasn't fair. Sitting down Raggen sighed softly, and started her daily daydreaming.


{I just decided I'd get right into it... Lol so if your character wants to meet her there... lol}

[Muggafinn]

ℳ i c h a e l C l a r k R e e d
Michael blinked sleepily as he hunkered over his coffee, one hand tracing the patterns on the table with slow, methodical strokes. It was going to be a nice day, he knew that much, but he wasn't in any mood to go frolicking about in a field of daisies. It wouldn't be long before everyone else was up, so it was probably best to leave before the rest of his family noticed him. The nineteen-year-old boy stood as quietly as he could and shuffled across the kitchen floor in stocking-feet, attempting, without much success, not to slip on the tiles. Catching hold of the countertop as he fell, Michael eased himself upwards again, searching for his laptop. It had to be here somewhere. His little brother would sneak it into his room to watch TV shows that he had missed, but, thankfully, he found the sleek computer underneath a pile of newspapers. It felt heavier in his hands, but it was a comfortable weight. Now, to get out of the house without being seen...

His coffee in one hand and his laptop in the other, the teenager slunk over to the doorway and shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers, whichever two were closest to him. The shoes probably cost about as much as an entire family's weekly grocery trip, but he wasn't concerned with that. As much as he didn't want to see anybody, much less talk to them, he decided that it was in his best interests to go downtown. His home was one of the closest to the train tracks, so he wouldn't have much of a walk at all. He scribbled a quick note about his leaving, left it on the table, and opened the door, stepping into the cool, spring air. A thin layer of trees hid the tracks from this side of town, probably planted there to preserve the view. What a thought! He tromped his way through them now, no longer caring about how much noise he made. Just before he left their leafy cover, though, he spied someone sitting not twenty feet away from him, staring off into space. He knew it was wrong to get all paranoid, hadn't his teachers told him that? It still put him on edge, though, no normal person would be out and about this time in the morning. "Except for me, of course," he thought.

[Tossing Spades]

▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

҂ R a g g e n ҂ R a y ҂ P i k k e ҂

"Apperently It's a Crime To Be Myself."
▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

{{ "They say I'm just a stupid kid, just a crazy radical,
Rock and roll is dead I probably should've stayed in school,
Another generation X who somehow slipped up through the crack,
They'd love to see me fall but I'm already on my back" }}

Lost in thoughts of a better life in the future, how she'd travel and see the world. Go sailing on the ocean and exploring in the vast jungles, maybe take a tour though a safari someday too. Letting out a soft sigh Raggen pulled in her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. A soft breeze gently blew strands of her dark hair in front of her face, making them dance about her head in the direction the grass leaned. The sky was a lush blue, with fluffy, unreal looking clouds that seemed almost unmoving in the sky. A distant shuffling sound broke her from her drifting thoughts, making let go of them and let them drift off without her like a balloon that had just been released from a small child's hand. Lifting her head from the rested position, Raggen locked her eyes on a young man, around her age she guessed, with short, dark, messy hair. He wore clothing that instantly let her know he was from the gated community. Wrinkling her nose at the thought, she observed him once more. The stranger held a laptop and a cup of coffee in the other hand.
She could feel his eyes burning into her skin, looking back at her. It was almost as if she could feel some sort of tension between them, reaching from each side of the train tracks. He was just a stuck-up rich kid. He wouldn't have the guts to cross the double tracks. None of them ever had the sense of adventure build in them to do anything like that.

{{ "Now I know I'm not a saint, I been a sinner all my life
I ain't tryin' to hide my flaws, I'd rather keep them in the light
They wanna criticize, scrutinize, cast another stone
Burn me at the stake and sit and watch it from the throne"}}

Raggen shifted her position to a outstretched position, leaning back on her hands after tucking her dark hair behind her ear. Then again, who from that greedy group of houses would even have the thought to come down here let alone actually doing so? That moment, interest and curiosity struck Raggen about this stranger that sat just beyond the train tracks from her.

[Muggafinn]

ℳ i c h a e l C l a r k R e e d
He stood there for a second, trying his best not to drop his laptop. Couldn't they have made it easier it hold? Cursing Steve Jobs, he shifted it slightly and began to pick his way down the slope to the train tracks. Michael hadn't crossed this way before, not in a while, anyway. A long time ago, in school, he remembered hearing some kids talking about a boy who had stepped on the third rail. Apparently, it hadn't ended well. How was he supposed to know which one was electrified? There were only two tracks here, one going west, the other going east. No third rail at all. His teachers should have brought this up in their classes, it was their fault, obviously, if he got himself killed. He was just about to turn and go home when he remembered the girl, who had raised her head to look at him. Well, this was awkward. Michael managed to get to the tracks without incident and eyed them for a minute, then jumped over the first one. Realizing that he should've said hello, the teenager turned and waved, nearly dropping his coffee. "Lovely morning!" he said, standing awkwardly between the two train tracks.

Not expecting an answer, since she certainly wasn't from around here, Michael turned and contemplated continuing on. She didn't look like she had taken a bath recently. A drop-out, probably. Realizing who she was, he took another, more hurried leap over the next pair of tracks, landing on the other side without much incident. Upon clambering up the slope, he turned and looked back, though he didn't know why, really. A soft wind had picked up, reminding him just how cold it could be on these bitter, dry mornings. Wouldn't she be cold? It was her own fault, though..."Hey, um, are you lost? I don't believe I've seen you around here before, sorry." Why had he said sorry? Ugh, he was so stupid! To be honest, it probably wasn't a good idea to talk to her in the first place. She could be some drug addict, or maybe even running from the cops.

[Tossing Spades]

▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

҂ R a g g e n ҂ R a y ҂ P i k k e ҂

"Apperently It's a Crime To Be Myself."
▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

{{ "They say I'm just a stupid kid, just a crazy radical,
Rock and roll is dead I probably should've stayed in school,
Another generation X who somehow slipped up through the crack,
They'd love to see me fall but I'm already on my back" }}

Watching the stranger intently, Raggen shifted once more out of slight discomfort as the boy stumbled down the little hill and stood in the middle of the tracks. No richies ever crossed the tracks unless it was for business and they were in a flashy car off the the office or building. What was he doing? "Lovely morning!" He'd called out to her. Raggen wrinkled her nose at the use of the word 'lovely'. It was so... unusual, so... mannered. It rubbed her the wrong way. In some strange way, Raggen found slight amusement in watching the boy stumble to the the middle of the tracks, resulting in a little smirk of amusement. He spoke again, she focused on his words. Lost? It almost made her laugh. "If anything I would think you're lost. Whatta' doin' down here?" Raggen called back almost mocking him. Her voice was raspy and playful, sort of sounding like Emma Stone.

{{ "Now I know I'm not a saint, I been a sinner all my life
I ain't tryin' to hide my flaws, I'd rather keep them in the light
They wanna criticize, scrutinize, cast another stone
Burn me at the stake and sit and watch it from the throne"}}

Leaning back on her hands in the cool grass she waited for him to make his next move. Would he dare scare closer? She doubted it.

[Muggafinn]

ℳ i c h a e l C l a r k R e e d
Michael managed not to narrow his eyes as he teetered on the edge, halfway between going home and going Downtown. He'd done it before, hadn't he? Lots of times, and his parents didn't even know, always assumed he was going to the library, which was certainly on his side of the tracks. Suddenly, though, he felt like there was something more to it, like he wasn't allowed to go there, or at least wasn't expected to. No wonder she thought he was lost. He managed to get a good look at her, now that she was a bit closer. Black makeup was caked around her eyes enough to make them look like a cat's, rather than a person's. She probably wasn't homeless then, just from the, well, other, side. It was enough to make her seem like some alien species, stepping out from a flying saucer and asking him what he was doing around here. Provided, all of the teachers in school stressed that you shouldn't judge someone based on where they were from, years of public service announcements had drilled that into his head, but none of them were poor, were they? It was confusing moments like these that made him want to sink into the ground and stay there a while, regardless of whatever went on around him. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, which looked like he had just pulled them off the hook of some expensive store. Suddenly, he became aware of this fact, but it was pretty hard to hide your pants, of all things...

He remained silent for a second or two, then opened his mouth to speak, "I'm not lost, no. I was just going downtown, to buy some cigare-" he cut himself off, growing a shade paler. Well, at least she didn't know where he lived, or anything. His parents wouldn't know, of course. Whatever they heard from her would be considered a lie, hopefully. Oh well. It served him right for leaving the house when he was half asleep, grouchy, and running on a mix of caffeine, granola bars, and willpower. "If that's okay?" he said it hesitantly, once again regretting what came out of his mouth. He shouldn't even be talking to her, it was so random. Since when did he do anything like this?

[Tossing Spades]

▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

҂ R a g g e n ҂ R a y ҂ P i k k e ҂

"Apperently It's a Crime To Be Myself."
▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪

{{ "They say I'm just a stupid kid, just a crazy radical,
Rock and roll is dead I probably should've stayed in school,
Another generation X who somehow slipped up through the crack,
They'd love to see me fall but I'm already on my back" }}

Snorting softly, Raggen. It wasn't hard to know he was from the rich community, even if she hadn't seen him coming from the other side of the tracks. The girl tilted her head to the side slightly at his words. humming a dark chuckle she pushed herself to her feet and brushed herself off. "Smokin's bad for ya, ya know." Raggen called back with a smug look on her face. "So, no. It's not alright. I's not gonna let you pass." She decided, wondering what his reaction would be to her choice of action and words. Would the stranger have the guts to push through or back down at the 'scary' outsider that just happened to not be as clean as himself? It wasn't her fault she didn't have running water, or a washing machine that she could just throw her clothes in and clean just like that. For her, it was the local swimming pool that always had running showers, and the laundry mat she would use once a week if she had the extra money. Sometimes maybe she'd be lucky to find some extra change on the street.

{{ "Now I know I'm not a saint, I been a sinner all my life
I ain't tryin' to hide my flaws, I'd rather keep them in the light
They wanna criticize, scrutinize, cast another stone
Burn me at the stake and sit and watch it from the throne"}}

Crossing her arms, Raggen shifted her weight to one foot, giving herself a sassy position while she locked her gaze with the rich boy.

[Muggafinn]

ℳ i c h a e l C l a r k R e e d
The boy stood for a moment, one hand clutching his coffee, the other his laptop. Jeez, this was getting awkward. She looked so smug, though. Something about it just irked him. He still had one cigarette left, and he was feeling slightly rebellious, anyway. Maybe this would wipe the smirk off her face. He set down his coffee, pulled the pack out of his pocket, drew the last one out, and lit it with a flick of a lighter which was similarly stowed. He raised an eyebrow and took a long pull, blowing a cloud of smoke out in front of his face when he took his hand away. Let her chew on that for a minute, who was she to give him moral lessons? It certainly didn't look like she'd care if he kicked the bucket. There was something spiteful about the action, more of a challenge than anything else. He let the cigarette dangle from his hand for a moment, its glow a strange sort of light in the cool morning. He was killing himself, sure, but he'd only been doing it for a few months. His father smoked, so no one would notice the smell on him. And it wasn't like Michael Clark Senior had croaked, either. He could stop any time he wanted, really...

Hoping this would be enough to get her off his back, Michael tapped the ashes onto the ground with a motion that spoke of substantial practice doing it. So maybe it had been more than a few months...his dad never noticed a few missing cigarettes here and there. Michael stood there, smoking quietly and letting the wind ruffle his hair. He kneeled down to get his coffee from the ground, glad that it was still warm, despite the chill. "I'm perfectly aware it's killing me, but what say you let me pass so I can grab some more and die happy?" Now that had certainly surprised him, he rarely had to employ anything like that. He had stuck the cigarette back in his mouth to accommodate for the coffee; he certainly couldn't hold both at the same time. Now, he stood, feeling a bit grouchy and tired. Hopefully his parents wouldn't be along soon.