|
|
Post by Sydney Grace Conrad on Aug 13, 2011 16:42:58 GMT -5
 
Sydney grabbed a water bottle from one of the mini fridges and threw her bag down on the couch before sitting next to it. She pulled her camera out of her bag and turned it on, flipping through the pictures she’d taken of the courtyard before coming in here to relax. All her pictures were of nature and still life. She shook her head and sighed.
“I really need some models..” she whispered to herself. She blinked and turned to look at the board by the door. All she needed was a sign up sheet. She reached into her bag, digging for paper. To her surprise, she didn’t have any. Sydney usually carried everything in her bag. She bit her lips covered in pink lipstick and twirled a piece of her hair, which was blonde this week.
Sydney shoved her camera back into her bag and leaned against the couch, shutting her eyes. She wanted classes to start already. There wasn’t much to do in the academy until classes and school activities. She’d already signed up for drama, and she was very excited for that.
Sighing again, she stood up, beginning to pace around the empty room. It wasn’t that the school was boring. It was just empty and deserted. Once the school year started she’d be busy with friends and parties and whatever else everyone was up to. Every few minutes she found herself looking at the door. Hoping someone would come in to entertain her. She stood in front of the couch, and fell back against it. “Maybe I need a boyfriend.” She mumbled, taking a sip of her water.
 count : two hundred&seventy-two outfit : click ! ?tags : open~ noted : Anyone want to model? credited : KBIRD of caution 2.0 [/color][/font][/size][/center] |
|
|
|
Post by Bloodstain Kira on Aug 16, 2011 12:44:37 GMT -5
♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥ the second alice meekly sang
a s o n g i n w o n d e r l a n d .
spreading out countless notes, he gave birth to a mad world.
What was the point in leaving his dorm room? Bloodstain wasn’t quite sure. On a whim, the boy had dragged himself from the darkness of his room and was now making his way to the student common room. There wasn’t any point in doing anything, in Bloodstain’s opinion. Everything people did was completely useless. It got them nowhere. In the end, people lived long, pointless lives, and then died long, pointless deaths. Bloodstain had been sent to Gaikoku no Akademi by his foster parents. Mr. and Mrs. Yamazaki thought him to be ‘troubled’ by the so-called ‘abuse’ he went through after his mother died. Bloodstain wouldn’t call it abuse. He had tolerated it. There was nothing he could have done about it, anyway. It was just how things were back then. He hadn’t liked it, per say, but he hadn’t hated it either. Being that man’s pet was just a fact of Bloodstain’s existence, or so he saw it. He didn’t see why he had to go to all these therapists who claimed they were trying to ‘help’ him. He didn’t need help. He was perfectly fine without their unnecessary assistance.
As Bloodstain ambled into the large student common room, his glassy, half-closed violet eyes gazed apathetically around, expecting to see a few students lingering there. However, there only appeared to be one. He half bounced off the doorframe as he made his way into the room, pulling his long-sleeved striped shirt off his shoulder a bit. He tugged absently at the black collar encircling his neck. He made his way to pass the couch, and as he did so, caught the sound of a girl’s voice. He peered over at her, the only person in the room, seated on the couch holding a bunch of what appeared to be photos. There was no one sitting anywhere near her. The blonde must have been talking to herself. Dumb blonde, he thought absently. He had heard the man say something of the sort. That blonde women tended to be ‘dumb bimbos.’ He didn’t quite catch what she said, but it was probably something stupid if she fit the man’s stereotype of blondes. He watched her lean back and close her eyes, then get up and pace around the room.
On a normal day, Bloodstain would have ignored her and went about his pointless business. And that’s exactly what he planned to do. He went to walk in front of the couch towards the door, but as he did so, the toe of his black Converse caught on the carpeted floor. He pitched forward suddenly. His arms remained at his side, making no move to reach out and catch himself. He simply let himself fall. His face remained as emotionless as before, his eyes half closed in disinterest, mouth in straight line. He fell face-first on the not-so-soft carpet. And stayed there. He remained right where he was, face-down on the floor, and did not even try to get up. What was the point, anyway?
that alice was a rose,
s h o t d o w n b y a m a d m a n .
he makes one bright red flower bloom, and, admired by all, he withers. ♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥ ♦ ♠ ♦ ♥
tagged; sydney conrad. | words; five-zero-three. | outfit; click. | song; alice human sacrifice.
notes; bloody fell~. |D it looks like i meant to write 'bloody hell.' or is it just me?
|
|
