Post by kvietka on Jan 10, 2013 22:42:50 GMT -8
[STYLE=width: 425px;][STYLE=background-color: #C8C8C8; border-right: 5px solid #323232; border-top: 5px solid #323232; border-left: 5px solid #323232; padding-bottom: 8px; border-radius: 20px;][STYLE=opacity: 0.9;][STYLE=border-bottom: 5px double #212121; float: left; height: 106px; width: 105px;][STYLE=border: 5px solid #212121; border-top: 0px solid #212121; border-left: 0px solid #212121; height: 100px; width: 100px; border-top-left-radius: 15px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/EWP9Hs.jpg);][/style][/style][STYLE=border-bottom: 5px double #1D3120; float: left; height: 46px; width: 310px;][STYLE=float: left; height: 40px; width: 100px; border: 5px solid #212121; border-top: 0px solid #212121; border-left: 0px solid #212121; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/EWP9Hs.jpg);][/style][STYLE=float: left; height: 40px; width: 100px; border: 5px solid #212121; border-top: 0px solid #212121; border-left: 0px solid #212121; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/EWP9Hs.jpg);][/style][STYLE=float: left; height: 40px; width: 100px; border: 5px solid #212121; border-top: 0px solid #212121; border-left: 0px solid #212121; border-right: 0px solid #212121; border-top-right-radius: 15px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/EWP9Hs.jpg);][/style][/style][/style][STYLE=font-family: courier new; font-size: 11px; line-height: 10px; padding: 3px; padding-top: 53px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 0px; margin-left: 105px; color: #212121; text-align: justify;]WHEN YOU'RE OVERWHELMED AND YOU'VE LOST YOUR BREATH, WHEN THE SPACE BETWEEN THE THINGS YOU KNOW IS BLURRY NONETHELESS, WHEN YOU TRY TO SPEAK BUT YOU MAKE NO SOUND, AND THE WORDS YOU WANT ARE OUT OF REACH, BUT THEY'VE NEVER BEEN SO LOUD. - - - - - -[/style][STYLE=font-family: times new roman; font-size: 20px; line-height: 13px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; color: #212121; text-align: center;]IF YOUR HEART WEARS THIN, I WILL HOLD YOU UP[/style]
[STYLE=background-color: #E4E6E5; padding: 13px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 11px; color: #0B0F23; text-align: justify; margin-top: -9px; margin-left: 10px; border-top: 3px solid #212121; border-bottom: 3px solid #212121; opacity: 0.9; margin-right: 10px; border-radius: 16px; opacity: 0.9; text-indent: 13px;]▆ She drove the moped along the long stretch of rode, the cityscape meandering until she finally reached the natural beauty of Cremorne Gardens. The aroma of azaleas and lilies, sunflowers and roses, of much more flora than nameable, wafted through the proximity. It was lovely and all, but she felt there was no time to marvel or get emotionally worked up over rose bushes. No time for a "Double rainbow all the way across the sky" moment, even if she hadn't been in this garden before. But she had to admit, this was nice. Most English gardens that she's been to are a bit... over-ornamented, if you get the gist. Typical of many gardens, you'd see one too many bird baths, statues of little girls with umbrellas and trench coats, stone frogs, stepping stones, and bird houses hanging on the trees. Sometimes it's overkill and it ends up distracting from the main element: the flowers. She did sometimes feel like that, but hey, flowers don't go around crushing statues, now do they?
She parked the moped at the edge of the garden and searched for this said professor. Now, she did have a lecture with this one particular professor... let's just say that he wasn't the most attractive teacher out there. He definitely wasn't one of the most pleasant. He was one of those professors that she wanted to gouge the eyes out of from that one lecture that she had listened to. She just didn't take too much pleasure with his teaching methods and eccentricies. She would have to be straight to the point and make sure everything is clear as she tries to get this task done. No dilly dallying, and she would rather not spend so much time with the man. People say he has a weird habit, and she rather wouldn't find out.
Finally, she found the professor who would pay her for her services sitting on the bench.
"Sir, I have your notice," she said gruffly, putting the wrinkled paper into the professor's hand and keeping eye contact, steady and cold.
[/style][STYLE=background-color: #E4E6E5; padding: 5px; padding-right: 15px; padding-left: 15px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 11px; color: #0B0F23; text-align: justify; margin-top: 8px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-top: 2px solid #212121; border-bottom: 2px solid #212121; opacity: 0.9; border-radius: 16px; opacity: 0.9;]words: 348 tags: KYOOOOO notes: Bring on the bugs >;3b[/style][/style][/style][STYLE=font-size: 10px; font-family: helvetica; text-transform: lowercase; color: #212121; opacity: 0.9; letter-spacing: 3px;]made by kiwii at btn and gs![/style]
[STYLE=background-color: #E4E6E5; padding: 13px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 11px; color: #0B0F23; text-align: justify; margin-top: -9px; margin-left: 10px; border-top: 3px solid #212121; border-bottom: 3px solid #212121; opacity: 0.9; margin-right: 10px; border-radius: 16px; opacity: 0.9; text-indent: 13px;]▆ She drove the moped along the long stretch of rode, the cityscape meandering until she finally reached the natural beauty of Cremorne Gardens. The aroma of azaleas and lilies, sunflowers and roses, of much more flora than nameable, wafted through the proximity. It was lovely and all, but she felt there was no time to marvel or get emotionally worked up over rose bushes. No time for a "Double rainbow all the way across the sky" moment, even if she hadn't been in this garden before. But she had to admit, this was nice. Most English gardens that she's been to are a bit... over-ornamented, if you get the gist. Typical of many gardens, you'd see one too many bird baths, statues of little girls with umbrellas and trench coats, stone frogs, stepping stones, and bird houses hanging on the trees. Sometimes it's overkill and it ends up distracting from the main element: the flowers. She did sometimes feel like that, but hey, flowers don't go around crushing statues, now do they?
She parked the moped at the edge of the garden and searched for this said professor. Now, she did have a lecture with this one particular professor... let's just say that he wasn't the most attractive teacher out there. He definitely wasn't one of the most pleasant. He was one of those professors that she wanted to gouge the eyes out of from that one lecture that she had listened to. She just didn't take too much pleasure with his teaching methods and eccentricies. She would have to be straight to the point and make sure everything is clear as she tries to get this task done. No dilly dallying, and she would rather not spend so much time with the man. People say he has a weird habit, and she rather wouldn't find out.
Finally, she found the professor who would pay her for her services sitting on the bench.
"Sir, I have your notice," she said gruffly, putting the wrinkled paper into the professor's hand and keeping eye contact, steady and cold.
[/style][STYLE=background-color: #E4E6E5; padding: 5px; padding-right: 15px; padding-left: 15px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 11px; color: #0B0F23; text-align: justify; margin-top: 8px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-top: 2px solid #212121; border-bottom: 2px solid #212121; opacity: 0.9; border-radius: 16px; opacity: 0.9;]words: 348 tags: KYOOOOO notes: Bring on the bugs >;3b[/style][/style][/style][STYLE=font-size: 10px; font-family: helvetica; text-transform: lowercase; color: #212121; opacity: 0.9; letter-spacing: 3px;]made by kiwii at btn and gs![/style]