Hillwood forest RP

((If you need to say something Out Of Character or OOC, then place your text in these parentheses. (( )) like how I'm doing. That way theres no confusion as to who's talking. And the second rule: I'd prefer NO smileys and colored text in the RP-text. And don't use too much smileys when talking OOC please. That way we'll keep the game organized))

((Well, I hope you like the introduction (and I hope there ain't too much spelling mistakes in there ) have fun!))

It was a sunny day in October, a day that was supposed to be the most fun day of the year. The gang of Hillwood's PS118 had gotten a littler older, but that was basically all that had changed. Today, on Arnold's birthday, they had planned a surprise party for their footballheaded friend. It was Arnold's 16th birthday, so they had planned something special, a giant party at an abandoned castle-like building. They had arranged lots of food, a huge stereo system, lots of Jazz music which Arnold loved so much, and of course lots of friends. It was going to be perfect. It was a one hour car drive away, but worth it. They invited all their friends to be there half an hour before Arnold would get there. Gerald, Phoebe and Helga had arranged the party, Big Gino was invited because he could arrange them some great party-stuff. Rhonda and Harold were in charge of the decorations and the food. And Eugene and Curly couldn't find any transportation to the party, so could ride with them as well. Gerald had rented a small van, he got his drivers license recently, and because he was the most responsible one, next to Arnold that is, it was his job to make sure they'd get to the party in time.
They told Arnold that there was going to be an audition for a tv quiz which Phoebe was going to attend to, and Arnold didn't have a clue. He didn't even notice that they were driving the wrong way.
But after half an hour driving, and the kids getting more and more excited, the van started to make a strange popping noise, and a few moments later slowed down and stopped in the middle of the forest. Gerald looked at the fuel gauge, and noticed that the tank was empty. Everyone was already at the party, so the chances that someone would drive by were next to nothing..
There they were, in the middle of Hillwood forest, with an empty gas tank, empty stomachs and their cell phones out of range..

While everyone else piled out of the van to gawk stupidly at the forest and at each other, Gino remained in his seat. "Ahhh" he said bracingly, as if he'd just taken a long refreshing drink of water.
The flip-flip-flip of crisp dollar bills were music to his ears, thumbing through the fee he'd received for catering the football boy's birthday festivities. He'd held up his end of the bargain. It was all there at the renovated castle, waiting for them, even if no one arrived. No refunds. Gino replaced the rubber band around the thick stack of cash before tucking it away into his inner jacket pocket. His henchmen-- ahem, business associates, were already at the castle setting up. Gino was mildly disconcerted to find that his cell phone wasn't receiving a signal. He couldn't reach them. "This is... most unfortunate."

The past couple of years had been good to "Big" Gino the former infamous candy gangster. He was still infamous, sure, but candy wasn't really his 'thing' any longer. Gino's dubious business practices had grown along with him. As a teenager, he had vested interests in fast food joints and dance clubs. The 'business' he (allegedly, never proven) engaged in skirted the line of criminal activity, but never quite made the leap. Maintaining a distinction between 'selective bullying' and 'assault with a deadly weapon' is what separated Gino from the lower class of thugs.
Much like in his schoolyard days, his nickname "Big" still seemed more a metaphor for his lifestyle than a reality. Gino would never be considered tall, or wide, or even decidedly average. The slender, tan skinned young man barely topped five feet. He wore a light brown double breasted suit that matched his gel-slick hair and dark eyes, complete with a professional black tie.

Gino hopped out of the van, his expensive shoes gleaming with a polished sheen against the sunlight lancing through gaps in the trees. "Well. Nothin' to do but wait for the boys" he remarked to no one in particular.
Afterward he produced a pack of cigars from yet another inner pocket. Choosing one, he placed it between his teeth and chewed on the end while padding himself down for the lighter that he'd apparently left behind somewhere. "Nnng. Anybody got a light?"

Rhonda never thought she could hate a car as much as she hated that DAMN van. Here she was on the side of the road, bag full of party-favors (concealed from Arnold with her sweater.) hooked under one arm, and her little red purse on her other elbow.

She was dressed great, if she didn't think so herself, in a scoop-necked red mini-dress that fit her nicely, a pair of black leggings and some strappy red sandals, along with a large-buckled black belt to tie it all together. She had a dark sweater in case it got chilly, and- oh she just looked great. Twenty minutes ago, she had felt fabulous, she had-still-looked fabulous, and had been ready for a fabulous time.

But no. Oh no. She had gotten the side of the road with a broken-down van surrounded by trees and probably wild animals.

Rhonda looked a Gino. Definitely wild animals, then.

"You're really going to smoke, at a time like this?"

Phoebe tumbled out of the van, clutching at the sides of the door for support. Gino and Rhonda were already waiting outside, so she joined them. The massive trees to either side shaded the road, causing a dim twilight to fall. She shivered slightly.

"You're really going to smoke, at a time like this?" Phoebe heard. She turned to see Rhonda glaring at Gino, while he searched for a lighter. Phoebe sighed. Although she did not approve of such harmful vices as smoking, it might be better to stay on Gino's good side. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a book of matches, which she held out to Gino.

Gino arched a brow at the leggy, raven haired girl who was questioning his decision to light up. Unaccustomed to being... questioned... his initial reaction had been to raise his hand and snap his fingers, indicating that she should be toted away to be 'taken care of.' There were no ape-like goons present to carry out the order though, and Gino himself disliked mistreating women. It didn't sit right with his pseudo-mobster sense of honor. In Gino's mind, he wasn't a bad guy. Sometimes, in his line of work, he had to break a few eggs to make an omelet. Except the eggs were a guys face and the skillet was a toilet to give him a swirlie in. Well, it's a bad analogy... but most people got the message pretty quick.
At any rate, he'd made a mint off the collective funding of his classmates. Why not be merciful? This was still a pretty good day. For him, at least. Gino popped the cigar out of his mouth. He waved it lazily at Rhonda, smiling like a snake. "No where to go, nothin' to do. Best time there is, eh?"

Gino accepted the assistance offered to him by Phoebe with a flash of teeth and a wink "Thanks babe, you're alright."
He struck one, held the flame to his cigar and took a small puff before pocketing the matches. Squaring his shoulders, Gino leaned up against the van and did his best to look like something out of a magazine ad. Oh yeah. Who was cooler than him? Nobody, that's who.

((I have always been fond of cigars in fiction so I approve of Gino's actions. A+))

Meanwhile, Harold was currently helping Arnold and Gerald pry open the hood of the van.

"Hnnnngh!" He grunted as he tugged on the hood with all his might - it barely budged. "Sheesh," He groaned wiping a hand across his forehead. "This thing is jammed shut or something. Anyway," he turned towards Gerald who was now frowning at the van. "Can't really do anything if the gas has run out except get more."

Curly was not the least bit concerned about the van. That didn't bother him at all.

What bothered him was that it seemed like Gino was making eyes on his gal. He closed the distance between himself and Rhonda quickly, firmly planting himself between her and Gino. He wanted to do this quietly. Gino might not have had his mooks, but Curly was not the fighting sort. He believed himself to be more of a lover.

"Hey there, sweet thing," he purred at Rhonda, moving in closer and clicking his tongue. "You look really good. How about you save me a dance, eh? You know you want to!"

Meanwhile, Eugene hopped out of the van and rubbed his forehead after hitting it against the top of the van. The red-haired boy had grown a lot, but that was all that changed about him. He was still the same unlucky but optimistic kid he had always been.

He had been looking forward to the party for weeks now, and it had been torture for him not to tell Arnold about it, but he managed to keep it a secret.

He walked over to Arnold, Gerald and Harold who were standing next to the van, trying to come up with a plan.
"Don't worry, guys. I'm sure someone will drive by with a can of gas very soon, I just KNOW it! Why don't we sing a song while waiting?" He took a deep breath. "Wheeeeeen.. life gets you down, wearing a frown, don't look away, look up! .. c'mon guys, you all know the words!"

Gerald huffed sighed heavily, as he laid his head on the van in exhaustion. He hadn't changed all that much. His hair was still tall, albeit a little shorter since it was beginning to get caught in doorways, he was much taller than he was when he was a little kid, of course. His growth spurt at fourteen had made him one of the tallest guys in their group, reaching at about 5'11", and still growing. He was still considered cool by most, and was highly proud of that... although he knew "Big" Gino thought he was cooler, and maybe he was, but Gerald wasn't about to give up on trying to be the coolest and smoothest one around., because that was who he'd always been... the very definition of cool.

He panted slightly as he laid his head on the van. He was supposed to be the responsible one... how could he have forgotten to fill up the tank? Oh well... like that mattered now.

He heard Harold grumbling something, but he didn't really pay too much attention, he was too busy being angry with himself. He saw Harold turn to him, so he looked at him, a blank sheet of listlessness on his handsome face covering up all his inner emotions at the moment.

"Can't really do anything if the gas has run out except get more." He heard Harold say. He nodded, and stood up straight again, making sure not to get his good clothes rumpled in the process. "Yeah, but the nearest gas station is miles away in the opposite direction of-..." He noticed Arnold looking at them curiously, and brought Harold a little farther away, and lowered his voice so Arnold wouldn't hear. Maybe the surprise party was still salvageable? Well, if it was, he wasn't going to be the one to ruin in. "It's in the opposite direction of the party." He finished.

Eugene came over suddenly, and spoke enthusiastically, which made Gerald's eyes widen, "Don't worry, guys. I'm sure someone will drive by with a can of gas very soon, I just KNOW it! Why don't we sing a song while waiting?" and then came the singing... "Wheeeeeen.. life gets you down, wearing a frown, don't look away, look up! .. c'mon guys, you all know the words!"

Gerald groaned, and covered his ears. He knew that his best friend was an eternal optimist, which, at times, was annoying... but at least he didn't brake out into song and dance. "No, Eugene. No singing!"

All thoughts of Gino lighting up fled from Rhonda's mind. "Eeuugh! Curly, you have all of five seconds to back up from me before I come at you with the bag! We're in the middle of nowhere, no court would convict me!" To back up these words, Rhonda scooted backwards a few steps and held the bag up menacingly.

She had really hoped Curly loving her had been a phase, sadly, it seemed to be a very long phase.

(( BTW, your Curly Icon... SO PERFECT FOR THAT. ))

Like the several thousand 'nos' that came before this one, it did nothing to deter Curly's affections. He took a step forward, not fearing her bag.

"C'mon, Rhonda, we've been playing this game for years now. When are you going to stop playing hard to get? You know you want some of this!" he flexed his arm, even though there was barely any muscle there to flex.

((So I think we need our Arnold/Helga peeps up in here!))

Harold clapped his hands over his ears and backed away from Eugene, Gerald and Arnold.

"Aaaahhh, Eugene! That song is so annoying! It's hurting my head!" With that he turned and walked around the side of the car to where Curly seemed to be leaning oddly close to Rhonda. Rhonda, for her part, did not seem all that pleased.

He raised his eyebrow as he stuck his fists in his pockets and shuffled forward.

Rhonda rolled her eyes, cleared vexed. "Yes, Curly, years now I have been resisting your manly wiles," the sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Since when did 'Restraining order' mean 'hard to get'?"

Sometimes she wished the restraining order had actually panned out, shame her parents felt she'd been overreacting. She slung the bag back up on her shoulder and did her best to try and contain her composure as Harold shuffled over.

"Hey, the restraining order didn't take. Admit it, you just didn't have the heart to go through with it," he glanced over in Eugene's direction. What had annoyed the others only intrigued Curly. "Not bad, Eugene! You can sing at our wedding," his attention returned to Rhonda, "Right, honey?"

Harold stopped a few feet short of where Rhonda and Curly stood, rubbed the back of his neck and said in the tiniest of voices.

"Hey."

"There will be no wedding!" Rhonda snarled. And even if there WAS a wedding, Eugene would not be the one singing at it, but she didn't want to give Curly any inkling that there WOULD be one, so she kept this thought to herself.

Grateful to turn her attention elsewhere, Rhonda smiled at Harold. "Hey, Harold. Can the car be fixed?"

"No, I think we're stuck." He told her as he began rifling through his coat pockets until he pulled out a candy bar. "We'd better figure out a way to the party soon or else I'm gonna die of hunger." He said as he bit off an end of his candy bar. He sniffed loudly and then turned his head towards Rhonda. "You smell like something."

Curly was not the brightest crayon in the box. Which was probably why he was too busy glaring at Gino to have any inkling that there might be something going on between Harold and Rhonda.

Whatever the reason he didn't see the obvious chemistry between the pair, he was ignoring a potentially romantic scene right in front of him. "If we're going to be stuck out here a long time, I nominate myself for leader. I know how to hunt squirrels and how to live off dew drops!"

Phoebe giggled slightly, listening to the fray. She had settled herself in the shadow of a tire and was quietly reading one of the books she had produced from her backpack. Oddly enough, it was a fictitious account of survival in the wilderness. The irony did not escape her.

'Here, Curly. Perhaps you might find this useful in your hunt for *ahem* squirrels." She called, holding the book out to her bespectacled classmate.

Rhonda sighed heavily. "Great... Well, we can't be stuck here for too long, right? I mean, somebody's bound to drive past and help us out." she blinked. "Smell like something?" She HAD picked up a fantastic new perfume for the day.

She looked over at Curly. "I think I'd rather be stuck on my own."

"Thanks, Phoebe," he grabbed the book from her and looked it over. "So this means you acknowledge me as leader of the group from here on out, until we're rescued, right?" before she could answer, he turned his attention back to Rhonda. "Do you have some lipstick I could borrow? I need to make some tribal marks on my face, and that particular shade of red would be perfect!"

Phoebe sighed. It was usually best to allow Curly to nurture his delusions. When broken from them, he tended to get worse.

She pushed herself up off the ground, swung her bag back onto her back, then trotted over to see what was going on with the van. Regardless of her knowledge of many subjects, automotive workings was something she was not very familiar with. She was eager to learn a few things, as always. Plus the conversation had to be slightly more intellectual over there. Not that lipstick and squirrels didn't amuse her, but it certainly was not Mensa worthy.

(( Sorry guys, no offense. I'm just trying to move ))

"Yeah, something." Harold said, looking away again.

He was trying to ignore Curly the best he could, he'd never really felt quite safe around the half-crazed boy and watching the speed at which he snatched up Phoebe's book out of her hands made him a little worried about his candy bar, which he bit into with a possessive crunch.

"Awwww man." He complained. "This sucks."

Rhonda flushed a little, and stomped her way over to look down the road. "Well, how far away were we from the place? If it isn't so far down, I'll just walk!"

((Nintendo Gal better show up soon or I'm liable to take Arnold for a spin in her absence. It's still her role and I'll step aside whenever she decides to claim it, but come Monday I'm going to start posting for her. Can't be waitin' around for one of the MAIN characters in the story, ya know?))