played by
Requiem
POSTS
23
awards
|
Civilian
call me Rom, Heart
He/Him
25 YEARS OLD
June
26
Cancer
Montreal, Canada
Bisexual
TAG WITH @rommel
Rommel Santiago
Ironic how the King of Hearts has a broken one, huh?
fragile
posted May 13, 2019 13:29:05 GMT -6
[attr="class","trying"] [attr="class","we1"] [attr="class","lost1"]Always, always... [attr="class","rise"] [attr="class","dying1"] [attr="class","mouths1"]...A day off.
That’s...all he really needed, right?
That’s what he convinced himself of. Both to himself and to the public, it was...more or less obvious that he was having a rough patch? A...two-year-long rough patch, but that was aside the point, as far as he cared. Or...could bother to care, at least. Effort was hard to muster; hard to come by. It was always hard for him in the past, but even then, and with a plethora of mistakes and guilt that he harbored for a while, by then?
...Yeah.
Let’s just say that it’s been a lot harder than usual for him.
So, he took a day off. Took care to text a good friend sometime earlier, but after a while, he decided to at least go out and spend his day being...moderately productive. Sunlight was good for emotional health on top of physical, right? That’s what he read up about. So...he figured it was worth a try. For sake of discrepancy and laying low under the radar, he took it upon himself to temporarily alter his appearance, though. The signature dual tone of his hair was covered by black dye - washable, so he could easily return to his normal look when he went back to work - and was a bit more fashionably tussled than usual. He learned to be proud of his heterochromia, of course, but again- discrepancy. Instead of going out with his normal eyes, he decided to take one of his contacts - a blue one - and place it over his right eye before leaving; that way his eyes would at least match in color when he went out. Pair that with a face mask, and he had his head situated physically, even if it wasn’t emotionally.
So, there he was. Dress shirt, hooded leather jacket. Jeans, running shoes; his own subtle, but at the same time not subtle ‘disguise’, if you wanted to call it that. He looked natural for once, and like he’d accustomed himself to do whenever he wanted to go out without a higher risk of getting poked at in public because of what he did for a living. There were some days he just wanted to go back; some days he wanted to be normal.
So with a fake look and mellow auras, that’s what he did.
His bag rested atop the table before him, and - although subtle - he kept an eye on his surroundings, as it was the weekend, and the area both inside and out was...pretty crowded. Since seating himself at the outdoor patio of the cafe that day, he pensively and long since removed his mask, but opted to pull his hood over his head, instead, to harbor a sense of ease when it came to blending in. His food of choice was a simple BLT with a side of fries; completed with a small bag of macarons, and an iced latte to the side. Amidst the plates were his writing tools; a simple pair of notebooks with a few pens - colored and not - scattered across the table as he pressed one against the pages. Obviously, words were written. Songs were listened to as he took care to slip a couple earbuds into his ears, but unlike most, they didn’t have lyrics. Not yet, at least.
Background music to the song he was working on right then and there, but he took a brief and quick pause as he turned wrongly, and accidentally tipped one of his other pens on the floor next to him. His eyes followed it as it skittered across the floor, and after thinking for a bit, he breathed a soft sigh while getting up and trying his best not to bump into anyone or block their way as he slipped over.
Key words? ‘Trying his best’. [attr="class","lying1"]✎ Evelyn Hart , another cafe thread since i like cafes rip ulla [newclass=.we1]background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/f0CTntQ.jpg?1);height:380px;width:400px;padding-top:120px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.avatar]background-color:#363636;width:50%;padding:10px;opacity:.9;transition:1s;border:#666 1px solid;padding-top:30px;padding-bottom:30px;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.lost1]font-size:12px;font-family:Alegreya Sans SC;color:#fff;letter-spacing:2px;padding:10px;background-color:#363636;opacity:.9;border:#666 1px solid;width:50%;transition:1s;margin-top:10px;margin-bottom:10px;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .lost1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .avatar]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.rise]padding-top:25px;height:475px;width:400px;background-color:#272727;opacity:.8;margin-top:200px;transition:2s;transition-delay:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .rise]margin-top:-360px;transition:1.5s;transition-delay:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.dying1]width:80%;padding:10px;background-color:#1a1a1a;border:#444 1px solid;opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.mouths1]color:#eee;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;height:370px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.lying1]width:80%;padding:3px;background-color:#1a1a1a;color:#777;font-size:10px;text-align:left;border:#444 1px solid;margin-top:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .dying1]opacity:1;transition:1s;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .lying1]opacity:1;transition:1s;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:7px;[/newclass][newclass=.trying ::-webkit-scrollbar-track-piece]background:#444;border-left:3px solid #1a1a1a;border-right:3px solid #1a1a1a;[/newclass][newclass=.trying ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background:#000;border:#444 1px solid;[/newclass][newclass=.dying1 b]color:#508ACC[/newclass][googlefont=Alegreya Sans SC]
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played by
Marshmallow
POSTS
10
awards
|
Civilian
call me Evie, Lyn
She/Her
25 YEARS OLD
Gemini
Seattle, Washington
Heterosexual
Idol
TAG WITH @evie
Evelyn Hart
i hate getting in my own bed with dreams about you
fragile
posted May 26, 2019 2:37:25 GMT -6
[nospaces] [attr="class","eve"] [attr="class","eve_img"] [attr="class","eve_box"] [attr="class","eve_text"]
The music blared in her earbuds, loud enough to keep the voices out. [break]
Loud enough to keep her footsteps out. [break]
... Loud to keep her thoughts out. [break][break]
Has she ever had this problem in the past? Thoughts running around her head, not a moment of rest in the isolated silence of her own bed. More often times than not, she liked to think that she was feeling alright, there. She liked to think that she was just feeling nauseous-- Maybe she was just tired. Still, she spent her nights hoping to drift off as soon as she could. Nowadays, it was always the same, repetitive routine day in and day out. She wakes up feeling exhausted (a nightmare, she wants to leave and rift off to sleep again), she sits up feeling exhausted, walks to the bathroom feeling exhausted (maybe if she falls asleep again, she'll wake up to a day where she doesn't open her eyes alone). One step into the shower, caring little for the cold that suddenly hits her skin. Maybe she was a mess, and god knows how she's been able to get up in the morning. Yeah, she knew she was a mess and god knows that she was. So? A cold shower was all it took. A cold shower was all she needed to wash that mess of. A cold shower was all she needed to wake her up.[break][break]
A cold shower was all she needed to remind her she wasn't with him.[break][break]
Then she goes out, gets with someone else to tell herself that she didn't miss him. Honestly? She didn't know why she bothered trying now and again. Like how he felt like he was unforgivable, she wasn't in any situation to complain after pushing away for such a long time, no? Especially when she took the first step to try and forget him, and when she was the one who broke things off in the first place. She wasn't supposed to get angry nor upset over this, when he left her first (but that's not how she feels; she hopelessly blames him to protect her own pride). Constantly waking up, head and heart conflicting until both are numbed by the merciless cold of water in the morning. Was there anything she could do today? She was exhausted-- Even more so than usual today. It wasn't healthy for her to stay in, being in such a horrible mood. It wouldn't be good on her to stay home, especially with how prone she was to overthinking should she neglect leaving. With that thought, Evelyn pulls out one of her many hoodies from the closet, a pair of short jeans, socks and a pair of sneakers before heading out. Not without a cap of her own, a pair of glasses, and rearrangement of her bangs to hide her face just a bit more. [break][break]
Don't get her wrong; she loved the attention. She just.. Didn't feel like being crowded at this moment (she didn't know if she could keep a smile up, forced as it was, for the cameras to capture). Hence she put a little bit of effort - better than nothing - into her disguise for the day. If she didn't pay attention to what others saw, then others would be less likely to notice her. That is... That's what she's concluded, if it weren't a poor excuse to be lazy or sloppy about her work. Now she was out, and she didn't have to worry so much about the people around her. After all, that's what the music was for. It was for keeping the people and unwanted voices out, along with the unwanted thoughts. Music was her coping mechanism, now. She knows that it's not as healthy, but lately it was less of a hobby and more of an attempt to keep everything off of her mind. [break][break]
And to further get things off her mind, she opted to head over to any fast food joint to grab herself some brunch. The night before, she stayed up way too late trying to finish up a project that she and her other group mates were arranging. Let it be music scores or lyrics, it exhausted her enough to wake up later than she usually did. She paid very little attention to the people around her as she brushed past, and hoped to order something without any uproar from the patrons or the cashier. The expression they made? Uninterested, so she assumed that she did something right. Was it the lack of energy? The change in demeanour? Who could say, but it did the job and she could get her food without much an issue. A nice bundle of chicken nuggets with mayo packets, with the side of fries. No ketchup, because she preferred eating fries with mayo. Yes, she's a heathen. Fight her. [break][break]
In favour of the name 'fast food', she got her order pretty quickly. A dark blue tray with her food neatly placed on top, and she was quick to grab it and make her merry way to one of the tables. Unfortunately, she was more.. Distracted by sucking on the straw of her recently filled drink while walking from the fountain. Her shoulder suddenly bumps into a man who seemed to suddenly stand up, and she immediately drops the drink only to have it spill against the ground, on her hoodie, and stick to her legs. "Shit--" She quietly curses, staring down at the puddle of soda while holding the tray in her other hand. Her second reaction to this was to look up, and hope that she didn't get anything on the man she bumped into. [break][break]
Looking at him was her first mistake.
[newclass=.eve] height:600px;width:600px;background:#F3C0A3;position:relative;[/newclass] [newclass=.eve_img] height:600px;width:300px;position:absolute;background: linear-gradient(-90deg, #F3C0A3, transparent), url("https://i.imgur.com/rak1STM.jpg") no-repeat center; [/newclass] [newclass=.eve_box] height:460px;width:340px;background:#fff;position:absolute;top:80px;right:0px;padding:20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.eve_text]height:460px;width:340px;overflow:auto;font-family:Roboto;font-size:10px;text-align:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.eve_tag]height:10px; width:100px; background:#fff; position:absolute; right:0px; top:-55px; padding:10px; font-family: Roboto; font-size:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.eve_text b]font-style:bold; color:#D88658;[/newclass] [newclass=.eve_text::-webkit-scrollbar]width:2px;[/newclass] [newclass=.eve_text::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background:#F1AA97;[/newclass] [newclass=.eve_text::-webkit-scrollbar-track]background:#eee;[/newclass]
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played by
Requiem
POSTS
23
awards
|
Civilian
call me Rom, Heart
He/Him
25 YEARS OLD
June
26
Cancer
Montreal, Canada
Bisexual
TAG WITH @rommel
Rommel Santiago
Ironic how the King of Hearts has a broken one, huh?
fragile
posted Jul 11, 2019 12:40:02 GMT -6
[attr="class","trying"] [attr="class","we1"] [attr="class","lost1"]Always, always... [attr="class","rise"] [attr="class","dying1"] [attr="class","mouths1"]Grab and go. That was the plan.
Just...grab his pen. Go back to his seat.
Give no time for anyone to interact, and no time to bother with anyone else.
That was the plan - and he actually saw it halfway through, if anything - but as he took hold of the pen and began to turn towards his chair once more, he found himself at a brief crossroads with a moderate collision; stiffening on instinct as a means to stabilize his stance, though still stumbling the faintest bit by sole virtue of the interaction being sudden. His left foot shifted behind the right to properly and swiftly ascertain his balance; his arms briefly and slightly moving on instinct as a means to aid him in the gesture, and a soft, ”Shit--” left his lips on - yet again - pure instinct in response to the sudden predicament at hand. His hopes for nothing more than a vague scuffle at hand had been crushed as swiftly as it surfaced within his mind with the sound of clattering, and as his eyes immediately met the dropped tray and its contents, a deepened, ever sinking feeling of disdain pitted itself within his very soul as he narrowed his eyes. Almost instantly, a soft cringe surfaced upon his lips as he gave a faintly panicked curse in his breath, followed by a, ”Shit, I’m so sorry--” at first, all while instinctively lifting his gaze to meet that of the poor soul of whom he bumped into.
Needless to say, he felt the mistake of the aforementioned action within the very core of his being the moment his eyes met hers, even if the gesture in itself had still, ultimately meant to be the trailblazer in an attempt of politeness and apologies. Light, azure voids of his lingered upon the same, royal blue ones directed his way with an oddly similar sense of shocked familiarity, and all at once, he felt the selfsame panic and anxiety drastically rising within him for a different reason, that time around. Initially, his intention had been to stick with whoever this stranger was and aid them in getting situated again once everything had been cleaned up. Probably go the extra mile to buy their meal all over again as a means to show them the extent of his apologies. ...Not like that had changed, but seeing the person standing before him - even if he should have been protected by his ‘disguise’ - took him aback, to say the least. ...What made things worse is that she seemed to see right through his feeble attempts to mask his identity, even if it did work on the general public for the most part. Figures, though.
Of course she of all people would be able to pull that off.
Normally, he would have moved swiftly out of anxiety of prying eyes in order to avoid attracting too much attention- and ultimately, he did. ...He just had a little bit of a delay before doing so. Of course it was her. Of course she was the one that he bumped into; no dreaming, in the flesh. Truth be told, he had more than half a mind to just...book it. Leave on instinct, nevermind the food at his table, and only take a second to grab his things before making his own, dramatic exit. ...But that would just be rude, regardless of his own, pained feelings at that moment in time. Rude. Not to mention that it would probably attract some form of attention in the event that both of them were recognized. It would do the opposite of lowering the interest and attention towards those who did find themselves looking their ways, so with an increased level of disdain, he clenched his teeth softly and swallowed the vague lump that began to form in his throat. His chest and shoulders visibly rose within a slow manner as he inhaled deeply; a gesture that gave way to the attempt to calm himself down as he made quick work to stride past her in a somewhat hurried manner. He brought himself back to his table, but not to grab his belongings and leave like how he thought about doing.
Rather, he pushed one of his plates aside in order to gain a clear path towards the smaller stack of napkins residing besides it; placing the tips of his fingers upon it and lifting it up with clear intent and gusto as he had already been turning around and making his way back to her. For the most part, he was silent. Frantic. Discomforted. It showed in the way that - despite staring at her like a dumbass for a pretty noticeable while earlier - he seemed intent to avoid her gaze completely if he found himself capable of doing so. The moment that he had been close enough, he held the napkins out to her; even going so far as to place them directly into her hand before immediately crouching down and getting to work on piling the stray bits of food back upon the tray and plate. ”...Clean yourself up,” he murmured quietly, still while taking care to keep his focus clear upon the tray and otherwise. ”Wait at my table. I’ll clean up and buy you another order.” [attr="class","lying1"]✎ Evelyn Hart , another cafe thread since i like cafes rip ulla [newclass=.we1]background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/f0CTntQ.jpg?1);height:380px;width:400px;padding-top:120px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.avatar]background-color:#363636;width:50%;padding:10px;opacity:.9;transition:1s;border:#666 1px solid;padding-top:30px;padding-bottom:30px;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.lost1]font-size:12px;font-family:Alegreya Sans SC;color:#fff;letter-spacing:2px;padding:10px;background-color:#363636;opacity:.9;border:#666 1px solid;width:50%;transition:1s;margin-top:10px;margin-bottom:10px;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .lost1]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .avatar]opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.rise]padding-top:25px;height:475px;width:400px;background-color:#272727;opacity:.8;margin-top:200px;transition:2s;transition-delay:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .rise]margin-top:-360px;transition:1.5s;transition-delay:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.dying1]width:80%;padding:10px;background-color:#1a1a1a;border:#444 1px solid;opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.mouths1]color:#eee;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;height:370px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.lying1]width:80%;padding:3px;background-color:#1a1a1a;color:#777;font-size:10px;text-align:left;border:#444 1px solid;margin-top:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;opacity:0;transition:1s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .dying1]opacity:1;transition:1s;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying:hover .lying1]opacity:1;transition:1s;transition-delay:2.5s;[/newclass][newclass=.trying ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:7px;[/newclass][newclass=.trying ::-webkit-scrollbar-track-piece]background:#444;border-left:3px solid #1a1a1a;border-right:3px solid #1a1a1a;[/newclass][newclass=.trying ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background:#000;border:#444 1px solid;[/newclass][newclass=.dying1 b]color:#508ACC[/newclass][googlefont=Alegreya Sans SC]
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played by
Marshmallow
POSTS
10
awards
|
Civilian
call me Evie, Lyn
She/Her
25 YEARS OLD
Gemini
Seattle, Washington
Heterosexual
Idol
TAG WITH @evie
Evelyn Hart
i hate getting in my own bed with dreams about you
fragile
posted Jul 12, 2019 2:34:41 GMT -6
[nospaces] [attr="class",evelyn-background"] [attr="class",evelyn-side"] [attr="class",evelyn-lyrics"]
HOW COULD I STOP LOVING YOU?
[attr="class",evelyn-box"] [attr="class",evelyn-text"]
She wanted to speak. [break]
Why couldn't she speak?[break][break]
The words are caught in her throat, forming a lump that she couldn't swallow down. Royal blue eyes gaze upwards, lips parted and tugged up slightly to give a small and quick apology. She intended to apologize, brush off the mess that had otherwise befallen her, and move on to order something else. "I'm really sorry" she starts, trying to bring the drink up to rest on top of her tray. The stickiness of the soda was already uncomfortable to hold, even though she was quite fond of the smell of rootbeer. The scent was welcome - the mess was not. "I didn't see you stand up. I'll see if I can call someone o-.. over.." the attempted cheerful chime gradually weakened as her gaze scanned the man before her, from toe to head. It wasn't until she caught sight of his facial features did her voice fall quiet, drowned out by the surrounding sounds of patrons and passing customers. [break][break]
Her disguise was poorly constructed. It's effectiveness paled in comparison, and so she wouldn't be surprised if he, of all people, could recognize her. What surprised her was the fact that she could recognize him. The black dye and the blue lens did little to avert her attention, especially with an air of suffocating familiarity surrounding him. She wanted to write off the familiarity, assume that, perhaps, it was just a face in the crowd she's seen at one of her concerts (it gives her a reason to keep the stage smile on her face). [break][break]
His voice offered little solace, using all of her willpower to conceal it effectively, as it pierced through her heart. It was the part of her, stinging, rubbing salt in the corners of the void's wound. Had she not steeled herself, in a moment, she could have broken. She would have cracked. Her knees would grow weak, she'd fall to the ground, cry, and open her eyes when she finally wanted to talk-[break][break]
And he would be gone.[break][break]
Hence it was rare. Rare that he was here, in front of her, and not insisting to leave the moment their eyes met. But he was here, and she could talk to him. Maybe she could pull him over, maybe she could properly discuss things in the cafe (as if, this wasn't a public matter). There were things she wanted to ask, things she wanted to confirm. There were so many things she wanted to say, but all that left her lips was "Ro--". A feeble attempt to say his name, her breath cuts off as she's choked up. Had she gotten to the point where she couldn't even say his bloody name? The image of him in her head was already enough to kick the air from her chest. [break][break]
She hadn't even noticed how quickly he moved. [break][break]
Evelyn stared. That's all. She just stared - there was nothing else she could do, watching his actions and his profile. Staring at his back and trying to look at his eyes when he returned. There were so many things she wanted to say - but why did it have to be here, where she finally got to see him face to face? Why was it here, where she was a complete mess? Why, of all places and circumstances? She knows he will leave. She knows he will leave, the moment he has 'made it up' to her by ordering a new tray of food. She knows that to avoid her at all costs, he could possibly call one of the servers to bring her the food if not leave her the receipt with her and book it away. [break][break]
Which is why it was so pathetic. She was so pathetic. She couldn't say a word until a napkin was put in her hand. "Wait--" her voice cracks, but she doesn't let the seems break. "..G-Give me a moment. I'll come with you." she uses the napkin to gently wipe excess drops of soda on her hand, however her gaze doesn't leave him. If it did, he might be gone. Again. Not after she's wanted to try talking to him for so long. [break][break]
... The same way he did her, once upon a time.
[attr="class",evelyn-lace"] [attr="class",evelyn-lace2"] [newclass=.evelyn-background] position:relative; background-image:url("https://static.zerochan.net/Nakano.Miku.full.2582702.jpg"); height:620px; width:550px; overflow:hidden; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-side] position:absolute; left:0px; height:620px; width:100px; background:#F2D7D5; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-lace] position:absolute; top:-50px; right:0px; background-image:url("https://i.postimg.cc/Dfbq8pQt/Transparent-Lace-PNG-Clip-Art-Image-m-1507172113.png"); height:260px; width:400px; overflow:hidden; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-lace2] position:absolute; bottom:-50px; left:-40px; background-image:url("https://i.postimg.cc/jjY7Hbzp/263181944010212-r1024x1024.png"); height:260px; width:400px; opacity:0.5; z-index:0; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-box] position:absolute; top:300px; left:100px; height:300px; width:240px; background:#F2D7D5; border-radius: 0px 50px 0px 0px; padding:10px; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-text] position:absolute; top:20px; left:0px; text-align:justify; height:260px; width:220px; overflow:auto; font-size:10px; padding:10px; cursor:default; z-index:1; color:#000; font-family: 'Roboto', sans-serif; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-tag] position:absolute; left:110px; top:255px; padding:10px; display:inline-block; background:transparent; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:10px; overflow:hidden; border:#fff solid 1px; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-lyrics] position:absolute; text-align:justify; top:-5px; left:70px; font: bold 40px Sans-Serif; letter-spacing: -1px; text-transform: uppercase; background: transparent; color: #fff; padding: 5px 10px; margin: 0 0 10px 0; line-height: 100px; transform: rotate(90deg); transform-origin: 0 0; width:700px; font-family: 'Abril Fatface', cursive; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-text::-webkit-scrollbar] width: 1px; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-textt::-webkit-scrollbar-track] background: #F2D7D5; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-text::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb] background: #f1f1f1; [/newclass] [newclass=.evelyn-text b] color:#B88679; [/newclass] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Abril Fatface]
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