morning swim, [open]

[ritsuka saito]

[atrb=valign, top][style=border-left:4px solid #66CCCC; font-size:10px; line-height:13px; padding-left:8px; text-align:justify; text-transform:lowercase; padding-right:8px;]It was early, but he considered himself lucky that the pool was open. He hadn't swam in ages, distracted by.. well, multiple things. With the snow drizzling outside, flurries touching the ground and melting away as quickly as they possibly could, he got that odd sensation, that longing to feel waves push and pull him, stretch his legs into clear water. Luckily for him, the pool at Chishiki Academy was indoors, and heated. He pushed through the doors and shivered at the wind pushing at his back. He loved this season, the crunchy leaves and the flurries of snow. November was one of his favorites, always... but fuck, it was cold. He didn't bother going to the lockers. It wasn't as if most were awake this time of morning, anyway, especially on a Sunday. He moved to the bleachers and set his back on a seat as he untied his boots and set them on the ground, socks followed, then he pushed down his trousers. He had boxers in his bag, but he had come with his trunks on under his trousers. He wasn't really sure why. It just .. made more sense to him. As he arched his back, he pulled his sweater and long-sleeved shirt from his body, after he had discarded his jacket and scarf. He got cold easily. He left his tank top on; he didn't really care if it got wet. Undressing accomplished, he moved to the edge of the pool, tested the waters with his toes, then dove in without much consideration. Though, in the back of his mind, he did recognize that, if this were a horror movie, he'd die pretty quickly, going about things as he had just done.[/style] [STYLE=font-size:10px; padding-left: 12px; font-weight: bold]words: 287 tags: open notes: mmwater credit: template made by oxymoron! of btn[/style]

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[valor chessaire]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,margin-bottom:-4px; background-color:#000000][STYLE=width:100px; height:100px; margin:10px; background-image:url(http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h50/DNAlchemist/FABRIZZIOICON3.jpg); float:left] [/style][STYLE=width:229px; background-color:#000000; margin-top:15px; color:#f2f2f2; font-family:georgia; font-weight:bold; font-size:30px; margin-left:120px; letter-spacing:-2px; line-height:20px]the storm is come, and i am following[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=border-left:11px solid #000000; padding:10px; background-color:#f2f2f2; width:320px; margin-bottom:-2px; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; line-height:10px; margin-top:-2px] Two pale hands slipped through silver-blonde locks, a masculine jawline tilting upward as steam billowed about an empty locker room. With warm liquid racing down a toned chest, over rippling pecks, dripping off of buckling hips, dancing to the tune of their own wonderful shape, the young man gave the slightest hint of a grin. Slowly opening his eyes, Valor shook his head, short hair whipping free of excess water. At least, that was how the blonde pictured himself as he thoroughly showered in an empty men's locker room. The routine was just the same as it had always been: one-hundred push-ups, one-hundred sit-ups, thirty-five chin ups, and a few more "ups" on a treadmill. Once he had downed the basics, Valor took his usual shower, first warm to clean off the sweat, then cold to get his body jumping. And when he had finished showering, he twisted the shower-head nozzles, tossed his hair back with his hands, smoothing it down, then plucked out his skin-tight trunks, slipped them on, and finally made his way toward the pool. He had never given much thought to his choice of swim-wear, preferring suits that were both scarce and water-dynamic when it came to his morning exercises. Granted, the boy had never really needed to care how others would take to his attire. Most were asleep whilst he was wandering about in his swim-wear.. but when he stepped toward the pool, quickly viewing the other swimmer partaking in a morning dip, he gave the gentlest of shirks- one corner of his lips shifting upward before he gave a stretch, then dove into the slowly swaying ripples. [/style]

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[/font][/color] YOU. o3o
words:[/font][/color] two-hundred seventy-three.
notes:[/font][/color] Sorry, sorry. It was a quick make post, so is not very good :'B
credit:[/font][/color] oxymoron @ back to neverland[/style][/td][/tr][/table]

[ritsuka saito]

[atrb=valign, top][style=border-left:4px solid #66CCCC; font-size:10px; line-height:13px; padding-left:8px; text-align:justify; text-transform:lowercase; padding-right:8px;]Ritsuka more than usually swam underwater. While unimportant on a normal basis, in a horror movie, it'd be very important. Someone could come in and hold his head underwater after he'd come up for air, and drown him. Perhaps he watched too many movies. It wasn't as if he had seen anything he wasn't supposed to, or was friends with someone who saw something or was experiencing weird things, besides puberty. That was always weird. The pool wasn't haunted, as far as he knew, and he went to shrines like a good boy, so he doubted spirits would be angry at him enough to kill him, anyway. .. So in every scenario, he would have no point of getting killed at all, or even being in the movie. He'd probably be the film crew, laughing at the stupid people.. That eased him a bit. He felt and heard something move in the water when he was under, and it spiked the fear once again, annoyingly so. He came up at the other end of the pool and gasped for air, running a hand through his red hair as he looked around. It was no use. He was really too short to see anyone in the water. This was a terrible idea. Terrible, terrible. Perhaps he was a little paranoid. Not paranoid, maybe just.. pessimistic, about the world. The world was a creepy, dangerous thing, and he didn't have the longing to get involved with such a thing. He pushed himself up onto the ledge in front of him and sat onto it. It was probably nothing, just another kid looking for a swim. It was early, but there were.. kids like that, he guessed. He ran his hands into his hair and waited, with an eyebrow raised, expectant but not dependent. He didn't really look too interested. He was, though. If it was some freak, he didn't care if it was snowing, he'd bolt out of the damn place without a care in the mother effing world. Being higher up, he noted, however, didn't really matter. He didn't have his glasses on. Anything too far away just looked blurry. So, he pulled an intelligent move, and just leaned over, hands grasping the edge of the pull between spread legs, and shouted a “Hey!” After all, if someone was in there, then they would have already known he was there. Why not say hi before he got axe murdered?[/style] [STYLE=font-size:10px; padding-left: 12px; font-weight: bold]words: 408 tags: valor notes: mmvalor credit: template made by oxymoron! of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=style, width:400px, bTable][style=text-align:center;width:100px; font-family:courier new; font-size:10px; line-height:13px; border: 2px #66CCCC solid; width: 100px; height: 100px;][/style]

[valor chessaire]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,margin-bottom:-4px; background-color:#000000][STYLE=width:100px; height:100px; margin:10px; background-image:url(http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h50/DNAlchemist/FABRIZZIOICON3.jpg); float:left] [/style][STYLE=width:229px; background-color:#000000; margin-top:15px; color:#f2f2f2; font-family:georgia; font-weight:bold; font-size:30px; margin-left:120px; letter-spacing:-2px; line-height:20px]the storm is come, and i am following[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=border-left:11px solid #000000; padding:10px; background-color:#f2f2f2; width:320px; margin-bottom:-2px; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; line-height:10px; margin-top:-2px] Of anything to start off the day, the chemical compounds of two atomic measures of hydrogen and one of oxygen, engulfing his form in its entirety, mulling over him as his two conjoined hands split into a seemingly singular symphony of clashing, yet constantly moving, atoms, beat all else. The young blonde enjoyed the strain of screeching muscle tossing weights. He more than appreciated the burn of his abdomen after dealing out crunches. He relished in the torment of aching thighs after forcing butterflies and kicks. But once the sweat was scrubbed away, the waft of body odor hidden beneath cherry blossom scented body wash with odor absorbing, bursting beads-- no stretch or weight could manage to overcome to wonderful feeling of being devoured by pure H2O (sans the chlorine, of course). And as if the sensation could not get any better than it already was, some sort of deity out in the marches of time and space had found a way. There was some other form in the large swimming pool- though whether the being was male or female, Valor had yet to decipher. The other was human, however, and to the sixteen-year-old deviant, that was truly all that mattered. Surely, the blonde did like his early-morning exercises, the chronic schedule giving him time to collect his thoughts and examine his own adequate means of etiquette towards whichever students he planned to court for the day's span, but there was just something sweet about a pool-side rendezvous with a complete stranger. Simple, sweet, and sinister. First and foremost, the blonde had to make his way to the opposite side of the pool without drawing too much attention to himself. Outstretching both arms simultaneously, he let himself delve under the water still, shallow at first, but steadily growing steeper in slope with every stroke. Once to the bottom, low enough to let his feet graze the textured floor, he let his eyes widen, having taken more than enough chlorine to his soft lenses to have the sting bother his sensory nerves. Blue irises gazing towards the upper lining of still water, his pupils began to flash to each side of his line of vision, pausing only when they spied the slightest movement of wafting legs. With the lightest spring of his feet, Valor made his way skyward, hopping just above the waterline after surfacing. Of course, he had yet to make contact with the other, saving one slight, yet definite, move to his whim. Slowly, he kicked his legs, just enough to touch base with the aquatic's edge. Lifting both arms to his face, he pushed back the moisture from his face, to his hair, making certain to lift both elbows high enough to give a good, subtle, flex to his biceps.. and with the final drop of his arms, he shifted his gaze to the other, checking the figure's chest before making his own greeting, having brazenly missed the other's chime of 'hey'. "Hnn.. ? I did not see you there.... Ciao, bello~" he casually hummed. [/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font: normal 11px arial; line-height: 14px; border-left:11px solid #000000; background-color:#000000; width:320px; color:#cccccc]tagged:

[/font][/color] YOU. o3o
words:[/font][/color] five-hundred and seven.
notes:[/font][/color] Hope he didn't come on too strong ;B
credit:[/font][/color] oxymoron @ back to neverland[/style][/td][/tr][/table]

[ritsuka saito]

[atrb=valign, top][style=border-left:4px solid #66CCCC; font-size:10px; line-height:13px; padding-left:8px; text-align:justify; text-transform:lowercase; padding-right:8px;]It was like out of some movie.. and not necessarily a good one. He watched him surface, unimpressed and uninspired with the entire performance, the hands running over the water from his face and his hair, like that chick from that one James Bond movie at which he always laughed. The kid was no axe murderer. He looked his age, maybe older. He could be a fourth year, by his height, but he never knew. After all, Ritsuka himself looked like a first year, by his height alone. Annoyingly so, of course. He watched him, watched the biceps flex, which was all nice and good, he supposed arms were nice and all. His shoulders were better, and he dare not look at his stomach, considering the size of his biceps. He'd be gone. "A bit hard to miss me, isn't it?" He challenged his statement with a little grin on his lips. It generally was, and he wasn't boasting the fact. It was simply a fact. With red hair as bright as his, he got noticed often and easily. This was Japan, after all. Even more, he had come in before this guy, and had been the only one in the pool. He'd be more concerned if he hadn't noticed him. But that was fine, the guy was just trying to play it cool, like with that fancy bit of Italian afterwards. Ciao, bello. "In German, 'Tchau' means goodbye." He stated. It had the same pronunciation. Well, similar. It was a bit harsher. It always was. It was German, not some fancy Romantic language like Italian.. as nice as it was. He was sure those that could speak those languages could do wonders with their tongues. He looked new... or, rather, Ritsuka hadn't noticed him yet. Which wasn't saying much, really. He didn't notice a lot of people until he actually came into contact with them, though. He did seem familiar, though.. like he should know and remember him. Oh well. "What's your name?" You pretty blonde, you.[/style] [STYLE=font-size:10px; padding-left: 12px; font-weight: bold]words: 338 tags: valor notes: mmvalor credit: template made by oxymoron! of btn[/style]

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