Post by lilleh3 on Jun 10, 2012 13:53:31 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, height: 300px; width: 100px; padding: 10px; background-color: #f2f2f2;][classy=harhar] [/classy][classy=texty]ROLL CALL![/classy][style=color: #777; width: 100px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: courier new; font-size: 8px;]AND THEN YOU TWIST AND SHOUT FOR YOUR FAVORITE STAR AND WHEN YOU'VE PRACTICED EVERY STEP THAT'S IN YOUR REPERTOIRE YOU BETTER COME ON DOWN AND MEET THE NICEST KIDS IN TOWN![/style] | [atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/1r3yM.png); width: 10px; height: 30px;] | [atrb=style, width: 340px; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/OMrnW.png); height: 300px; padding: 10px;][style=background-color: #fff; width: 320px; padding: 7px; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; line-height: 12px; -webkit-box-shadow: 2px 2px 3px #ccc; -moz-box-shadow: 3px 3px 4px #ccc; box-shadow: 2px 2px 3px #ccc; height: 240px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; color: #494949;]Now there was a familiar tune. In between every Japanese song (of which he hadn't the faintest notion of what they were saying), there would be a song in English. And for that, he supposed, was the only thing that could keep him sane. It was annoying sometimes to speak in a language that was not his own. Especially if it were not his native tongue. The words didn't roll off of his tongue in the right way or come off in the right manner. It never did. But he supposed he couldn't complain. He was, after all, in what he considered to be the pinnacle of high end fashion. Sure, maybe Milan could top this. But what they considered to be 'high end' fashion was never really his thing. Copper irises skimmed across the pastel shades that decorated the buildings of the shopping districts. He supposed he could have done much better though, he thought. But such things were not what he was here for now. He was more or less preoccupied with the activities at hand than resenting the fact that he had not gone to Tokyo when he had the chance. Besides. It wasn't as though he would follow his dearest younger brother to another city. Cities, he thought, didn't suit his brother in the slightest. Ah. But details were details and he supposed he would worry about them another time. Another day. Another week, perhaps. The autumn chills were finally settling in, he noted. The breeze blew, ruffling his pastel blue skirts. Slender, delicate hands brushed down the dress gently. He had shorts on, of course. But revealing such a thing would have been embarrassing, would it not? The wind blew at his black tresses, flicking them into his face despite his apparent struggles with the unseen forces of nature. It was hardly fair for the wind to make a mockery of him when he could hardly do anything to it. It was an embarrassment, most definitely so. And he for one was not going to stand for this. "Hmph!" He said quickly. Heels clacked against the ground as he stomped into the nearest clothing store. But it seemed as though things just refused to go his way today. The wind blew his skirt up and the slightest of pinks crossed his expression only moments after. N- N- No fair! That was foul play! He would have shaken his fist at the wind if not for the fact it would have been a most strange endeavor. Foul play! Flustered, the boy shook his head back and forth as he struggled to quickly fix his hair. His purse swung on the crook of his elbow as he struggled to re-pin and brush out the knots in his hair as made by the wind. It was a cruel mistress, it was. James huffed, puffing out his cheeks in irritation as he struggled to gather and compose himself once more. He shook it off, brushing the nonexistent dust off of his clothes before taking in his surroundings. He looked around the building, taking in the sights and sounds of babbling salespeople and teenagers. It wasn't too bad, he thought. Since he was already in here, why not a little shopping at the same time? He could definitely piece together something pretty in here, right? Most definitely! He hummed softly to the tune of the store, heels clacking against the ground as he rummaged through the varied articles of clothing. 'You're insecure. Don't know what for. You're turning heads when you walk through the door.' 'Don't need make-up to cover up. Being the way that you are is enoooough!' It was a horribly addicting song, he thought. But it was something that wasn't in foreign for once. And it was for that, that he was a bit relieved. Copper irises remained on a particularly adorable pastel pink, printed dress. Oh, how he wanted it! Be still his beating heart! He moved, fingers pinching and pressing against the fabric. It was quality. Egyptian cotton, he noted. It was so pretty! He squealed, picking up the hanger quietly before quickly dashing towards the dressing room. But he of course had failed to recall the sparkling heels adorned his feet. He stumbled for a moment before ultimately tumbling forward onto the hard, wooden floor of the store. He groaned, one leg bent into the air and the other laying across the floor. His heels barely hanging off of his feet. Stupid floor. It was obviously all the floor's fault. [/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 20px; margin-top: -1px; background-color: #fff; -webkit-border-radius: 0 0 5px 5px; -moz-border-radius: 0 0 5px 5px; border-radius: 0 0 5px 5px; height: 10px; padding: 3px; font-family: tahoma; text-transform: uppercase; color: #494949; text-align: left; font-size: 9px; -webkit-box-shadow: 2px 2px 3px #ccc; -moz-box-shadow: 3px 3px 4px #ccc; box-shadow: 2px 2px 3px #ccc;]OPEN • 758 WORDS • DERP[/style] |
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