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Post by Hasegawa Masaru on Sept 19, 2011 13:56:02 GMT -5
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[atrb=style, width: 40px; vertical-align: top;][style= border: 4px solid #7785a1; text-align: center; width: 100px; opacity: 0.7; margin-left: -90px; margin-top: -30px; ][/style]
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[atrb=style, width: 40px; vertical-align: top;][style= border: 4px solid #7785a1; text-align: center; width: 100px; opacity: 0.5; margin-left: -90px; margin-top: -30px; ][/style]
| [atrb=style, background: #9AB6EA; padding: 8px; border-top: 3px solid #525657; border-bottom: 3px solid #525657; opacity: 0.9][style=height: 375px; overflow: auto; font: 10px Tahoma; padding-right: 10px; text-align: justify; color: FFFFFF] Masaru loved the Marina, especially at night. The sound of waves lapping at the shore, the soft brush of boat against boat, it was probably one of the few things the could completely relax him. Especially at night, when it was all but deserted by the fisherman and he could relax in the darkness. His feet dangled off the end of the dock, staring out into the darkness of the sea. A source of life that could so easily turn the tables and take it in a second.
This was Masaru's place. It was one of the few places he felt safe enough to let it down. Let down that mask and let out some of his darkness. Some of those nightmares that plagued his waking hours. He was sat under a hanging lantern, feet close to the surface of the water, whilst his arms rested on the railing to prevent people falling off. He could see himself reflected in the water, amber toned eyes staring back at him. Almost straight through him.
Masaru was attempting to figure out why he was here again. What had set him off this time enough to set him here? His dad had visited the dorm because they were still sending a copy of his grades home and had been less than pleased. Distracted in lessons, caught daydreaming often. What sort of impression was he trying to set for the family?
Normally that wouldn't have bothered Masaru, he'd been getting more and more used to it over the years. It was because he had said this all in front of members of the dorm. He'd completely and utterly humiliated and destroyed his son, in front of people. In front of his school mates. In front of his friends.
That was why the minute curfew came around he'd snuck out the window to come here. To wallow in self pity, self detest, and complete and utter self destruction. He knew it wasn't good for anyone to just wallow in everything dark, but he coped. It let him smile and laugh like a normal teenager should in the day. [/style]
[tr][atrb=style, background: #8197a8; padding: 8px; border-top: 3px solid #525657; border-bottom: 3px solid #525657; opacity: 0.8; height: 15px; ][style=height: 15px; width: 275px; font: 11px Tahoma; padding-right: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: 434645; margin-top: -20px; ]WORDS; 353 . TAGGED; Openly open~. NOTES; Wanting someone for the 300points Social link event~ . [/style] |
[style=width: 480px; margin-top: -20px; margin-right: 30px; text-align: right; font-size: 9px; color: #757575]made by prism of ote and sgo~[/style]
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Post by Murakami Kato on Sept 25, 2011 16:24:23 GMT -5
world's sleeping, i keep dreaming for me. [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,464,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v723/Inra/gareki/brightgreything.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 3px solid #292929; border-left: 10px solid #292929; border-bottom: 1px dotted #292929; border-right: 10px solid #292929;] ✗✗✗
He'd spent most of his night dragged around by a guy he knew at school; one of those loud members of the baseball club, with off-brown hair and a fetish for documenting his whole life on video camera. Kato, doomed to like everyone at least a little bit, took his all-too-intimate approach to life in stride. (This involved a lot of learning to shake off his usual shyness. Which the lens shoved in his face probably made much faster.)
The room was a hole in the wall, something they both could relate to, and he'd been there enough times to not feel like he was intruding on the "sanctity" of the dorms. Or: the poor boy was used to it. (He didn't like them. They smelled weird and he never in his life wanted to ask why.) They bonded over figuring out inventive ways to kill themselves in horror games, with atmospheric music playing to rotting meat and bone in shadows. Kato was only good for about four hours of company until he got restless and bored, and they parted ways late enough to make him not seem like the shut-in he was destined to be.
That, and the fact he'd been trying his best to appreciate a public bathroom when the air growled ominously over his shoulder, chilled, and breathed down his neck didn't make him any more anxious to stay. He'd actually been quite enjoying himself up until then, but Kato had a long history of attracting stray spirits—and shocked, lurching "DAMNWHATINTHEHELLWASTHAT—!" reactions. Tonight was no exception. It didn't help that he had the luck to have someone walk in less than a minute after, eyebrow quirked and wearing a look that said, "Madam, I think I heard you scream." Or that he turned completely red, cursed to being absolutely transparent, and his friend's sympathies extended to asking if he embarrassed himself again.
He hadn't been irritated, because this was the kind of thing you resigned yourself to if you knew him. Just not too keen to go around chasing ghosts in television screens anymore. Yawning, he managed to walk himself home along the main roads. In the country, cars abandoned the roadside past eleven at night and the lights were off early enough to leave him blind if he took anything else. He tucked his bag under his arm and felt nervous in his school uniform, well-aware of a local battle to 'stop students from detracting from the scenic beauty of Shigayomi.' A large percent of the townspeople were stuffy, old and didn't want wild catcalls at three in the morning from those-lawless-young-people-they-would-never-understand. (And had a talent for thinking they needed to discipline anyone disrespectful and under twenty, too.) Curfew was enforced, because police work isn't too exciting when you just write parking tickets and keep tabs on drunks. The disappearances only made them even more vigilant.
"Man, I should've called earlier," he shook the hair out of his eyes, "But the chances of anyone feeling bad for me at midnight is pretty. Low." As in: nonexistent. He didn't want to cause his mom and dad problems. Busy pouting while he juggled his own practical optimism—'it could be raining, though. I guess it's not all bad.' |
[/b] Which, with how the chips tended to fall for him, was a plus—he passed the shopping district as water hissed under the docks. He had not, however, expected to find anyone under his feet. Built like a stick and with messy hair, he put him at about thirteen or fourteen maybe. There were generally no kids just hanging out at the bay, especially not at this time of night, and he gave him a blank stare before jerking backwards. Bowing, he spat out a timid and borderline panicked, "Sorry!" People suddenly in his space set off a chain reaction in him, and he tried to recover from the surprise. (And Kato wasn't fond of the idea of almost tripping over someone younger than him. He didn't want to be so clumsy that he actually hurt other people and it would have left him feeling guilty.) Looking past the shadows under bad lightning, Kato realized he'd actually seen him once before and that he was probably older than him—when he was navigating the lounge earlier. The room was uncomfortably silent as some old guy bellowed at him in broad daylight, and Kato himself came dangerously close to calling him out had Jun not thrown an arm around him to keep him quiet. You could be an ass behind closed doors; that was your decision, whether anyone else approved of it or not. The dorms, on the other hand, belonged to the students and faculty. Kato had a nasty habit of letting his first impressions and impulses get the best of him; he placed value on doing the right thing if he could, although now he wished he'd shown up ten or twenty minutes later. Meeting this guy had him feeling as though his ideas were presumptuous and, even worse, like he should say something. It was made clear in his expression, which was the kind of severe that makes people wonder if you're judging them to their faces. (Kato wasn't, but playing serious didn't suit him. It usually made things worse.) His face changed faster than he could often keep up with. OOC: So like we can have a very serious discussion about Masaru's future or ramble about high school boys being chased around by ghosts for the next, say, fifteen posts. Or drop someone into the water. . . . Or all of the above! I just really, really want to write about ghosts after watching Natsume. :"D And sorry for writing too much . . .[/div] [/blockquote][/size][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Hasegawa Masaru on Oct 3, 2011 14:52:08 GMT -5
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[atrb=style, width: 40px; vertical-align: top;][style= border: 4px solid #7785a1; text-align: center; width: 100px; opacity: 0.7; margin-left: -90px; margin-top: -30px; ][/style]
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[atrb=style, width: 40px; vertical-align: top;][style= border: 4px solid #7785a1; text-align: center; width: 100px; opacity: 0.5; margin-left: -90px; margin-top: -30px; ][/style]
| [atrb=style, background: #9AB6EA; padding: 8px; border-top: 3px solid #525657; border-bottom: 3px solid #525657; opacity: 0.9][style=height: 375px; overflow: auto; font: 10px Tahoma; padding-right: 10px; text-align: justify; color: FFFFFF] Masaru wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, instead his gaze focused on his reflection. On what he really looked like. Was this what people saw? The broken look in his eyes that he tried to hide through laughter. Hide through fake cheer and hide through jokes. A sigh worked it’s way from his as he continued to stare down at the water. The strange combination of red and amber in his eyes glinting in the light of the lamp practically above his head. He brushed his hair from his eyes and turned away from the reflection, instead looking out to the sea, leaning over enough to barely be noticeable unless you really looked.
Which was probably how the other male had failed to notice his presence, Masaru suddenly finding another male standing on him and breaking him out of his thoughts with a start. A very scared and shocked yelp made it from the fifteen year olds lips as he instantly attempted to get away from the surprise step. However, he hadn’t exactly though the plan through, and his only escape route from his perceived threat was, well, forward. Someone stepping on him normally wasn’t a problem. It was the fact it was almost pitch black, and he couldn’t completely see who it was, just make out a fairly tall shadow. Taller than him, and he wasn’t exactly on the short side. And that had been enough to make him want to get away, even with the other male apologizing. Hence how he ended up pushing himself forward…with his forehead connecting with the bar and his body going no further.
“OW!” The cry of pain rang out before he quickly pulled back, feeling a very telltale stinging pain in his forehead. Oh mother of god that hurt. Head butting a guardrail was not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. The warm trickle going down his face was more than enough of a sign that he should not look at the other male, instead quickly bringing his hand up, sleeve tugged down over it, to press against the wound. He was very much tempted to swear at the other male for what had just happened, but he knew the other student hadn‘t meant to cause him any harm. Besides, it was all his fault. Like everything else in life.
”I-It‘s fine. You didn‘t mean to ,” Masaru said, forcing a half smile and keeping his sleeve pressed to the wound. God, could this day get any worse? Publicly chewed out by his dad and now embarrassing himself by reacting like that to someone stepping on him. It wasn’t fair. At all. [/style]
[tr][atrb=style, background: #8197a8; padding: 8px; border-top: 3px solid #525657; border-bottom: 3px solid #525657; opacity: 0.8; height: 15px; ][style=height: 15px; width: 275px; font: 11px Tahoma; padding-right: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: 434645; margin-top: -20px; ]WORDS; 452 . TAGGED; Kato~. NOTES; Masaru has a face full of fail. And my post is so short compared to yours >< [/style] |
[style=width: 480px; margin-top: -20px; margin-right: 30px; text-align: right; font-size: 9px; color: #757575]made by prism of ote and sgo~[/style]
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