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Post by natesa elise mayjor on Nov 18, 2012 19:32:14 GMT
| [atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor
that's always been a dear friend of mine The loaf of bread that Natesa was carrying was whacking against her leg in a rather irritating manner. Whack. Whack. Whack. Non-stop; that was what was going on. But, hey, Natesa had the greater good in mind. The ducks down at the pond needed the bread a lot more than she did. And she’d made sure to ask her dad before she took the bread. So what if he said no? It was only half a loaf; it wasn't like they were going to miss it. Besides, the ducks were probably hungrier than she was.
She made her way down to the pond slowly, getting increasingly annoyed by the loaf of bread thumping against her leg in an awkward fashion. Now, it was becoming that much of an annoyance that she was just itching to throw it away, maybe jump on it a few times. Yes, maybe that would be an overreaction, but Natesa honestly didn't care less. She was getting irritated. Maybe she could just carry it on the other side? No, that would mean that it would whack against her other leg. In front of her? No, that would make her look like a complete and utter retard.
Oh, god, she was so relieved when she saw the pond just up ahead. Now she didn't have the bag annoying her with every step she took. It was great to have the pond quite close to her house; it meant that she was only annoyed for a few minutes each time. Yes, she'd done this before; it was just...infuriating, is all. The bag bumping against her leg. Anyway. Feeding the ducks. Yes. That was what she was going to do now.
She sat down at the edge of the pond, cross legged, and pulled the bag of wholemeal bread open at the top. Even though it was store-bought, the bread still smelt as great as it would if it were freshly baked. She and her mother used to do that. If Natesa's mother was in a good enough mood, she and Natesa would bake a loaf of bread specially for the ducks. It was fun, and left the house smelling like a bakery that everybody loves but no one really has enough money to go to.
And, sure, the store-bought loaf that was in Natesa's lap right now was a poor substitute, but bread was bread. The ducks would take it if it was freshly baked or not. And yes, maybe Natesa was a bit old to be feeding the ducks. But that was what she liked to do. Sue her.
OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: OPEN NOTES: STILL GETTING USED TO HER~ WORD COUNT: 432 |
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brent zachary mckinney
FIRE SPRITE
cafe worker
I?m addicted to you, don?t you know that you?re toxic?❤
Posts: 113
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Post by brent zachary mckinney on Nov 19, 2012 21:31:00 GMT
[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #E1E1E1; border-left: #890101 2px dashed; border-right: #890101 2px dashed; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 3px] It's not a miracle we needed, no, I wouldn't let you think so "Charley, Charley, give me your answer do, I'm half... barmy, all for the love of you~" the young fire sprite was casually walking along, singing along to his Leonberger puppy. The fluffy dog looked up at his owner, wondering why he was making such a racket. In return, Brent just rolled his eyes, "Jeez, I know barmy doesn't exactly rhyme, don't look at me like that, Mister." Speaking to your dog in public was normal... however, even Brent had to admit that he didn't see many people that sung to them.
Brent and Charley kept having to stop for several reasons but the main one was currently Brent's new shoes that Charley found fascinating and was drooling all over. "Daddy no likey when you get your icky-wicky doggie slobber on his shoesies." he pouted, shaking his head at the Leonberger before the dog went running off towards someone by the pond who was possibly feeding the ducks. Oh... and now it looked like his little ball of adorableness was jumping up at whoever it was. It was time for Brent to intervene.
"Hey, sorry, he's a bit..." Brent chuckled briefly, stopping when he looked properly at the girl here being ambushed by his dog. She seemed... strangely familiar. Like... really strangely familiar. Frowning, Brent pointed a finger straight at the girl. "I think... I know you... like... Ugh, this is bugging me now!" |
[/b][/div][/style] [/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
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Post by natesa elise mayjor on Nov 19, 2012 21:51:00 GMT
| [atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor
that's always been a dear friend of mine Well, okay. One minute, Natesa was peacefully sat feeding the ducks, like she did when she was a child. The next, she had a pile of fluff in her lap. A very wriggly ball of fluff, at that. Her hands automatically went to behind the dog's ears, and she scratched his head, laughing as she did so. He was extraordinarily cute; how hadn't she seen anything like this on Tumblr before?
"Hey, little guy!" she said to him quietly, in the sort of tone you use when you talk to a child. Well, this dog was just asdfghjkling adorable - how could she talk to him any other way? It just wouldn't seem right to her if she didn't. She pushed her hair out of her face with one hand (still scratching behind the dog's ears with the other), looking up to see if she could find his owner.
"Who do you belong to, huh?" she cooed softly, inspecting the dog for any tags. Charley, it said. Okay, his name was Charley. That was too cute for Natesa to deal with. Like, her mind was automatically in keysmash mode from all the cuteness that had just jumped into her lap. This was going to be a post on Tumblr when she got home, for sure.
And that was when a young man, no older than 25, came bounding over, apologizing. She figured that he must have been Charley's owner, and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Don't...worry about it," she said, retrieving the loaf of bread that had been knocked out of her hands when she'd met the personified version of cuteness.
She frowned up at the man when he inspected her. What? What was...oh. Okay. She looked familiar. Well, she was pretty sure that she'd never met him before in her life, but...actually, now that she came to think about it, he looked strangely familiar too. Oh, god, what if she'd met him already and forgotten about it?
She nodded, the frown still on her face. "Yeah...you look kind of familiar too." she agreed. She knew she'd definitely seen him before somewhere; it was really irritating her. And her mind wasn't helping her at all; it was still keysmashing from Charley's cute. "Uh, a name might jog my memory a bit?"
OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: OPEN NOTES: *DEAD FROM GIGGLES* WORD COUNT: 399 |
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brent zachary mckinney
FIRE SPRITE
cafe worker
I?m addicted to you, don?t you know that you?re toxic?❤
Posts: 113
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Post by brent zachary mckinney on Dec 1, 2012 17:07:40 GMT
| [atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #E1E1E1; border-left: #890101 2px dashed; border-right: #890101 2px dashed; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 3px] It's not a miracle we needed, no, I wouldn't let you think so Brent loved Charley, he really did, and he kind of felt proud of him when he got to see his puppy make other people happy. See, it wasn't just Brent who practically died when Charley did an especially cute bark or chased his tail around so he was running in circles. Who could find them anything but the most asdfghjkling cute things in the world?
Hmm, so it wasn't just Brent that was thinking he must've met this girl somewhere before. It was really getting on his nerves now that he could neither remember who she was or where he knew her from. At least he wasn't being weird and comparing her to someone else he knew because that could come across as being a little creepy from a complete stranger. "I'm Brent. Brent McKinney and... you are?" he replied, tilting his head to the side a little.
He was going to get to the bottom of this mystery if it was the last thing he did. Because situations like this one were really just too irritating, even for Brent. Hopefully there would be a somewhat interesting story behind how he kind of knew this girl anyway. Or maybe he'd just bumped into her around town before and it had completely slipped his mind. Either way, Brent was determined to find out. [/style] |
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Post by natesa elise mayjor on Dec 1, 2012 19:48:12 GMT
| [atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor
that's always been a dear friend of mine Natesa didn't realise that she still had Charley on her lap until she registered her hand moving in a petting sort of movement. It was kind of awkward talking to a stranger when their dog was on your lap. Well, okay, it was awkward talking to strangers; period. But hey, all the more so when you had their teddy bear of a dog in your lap, right?
Brent McKinney. The name rung a bell from somewhere. She had heard that name before; she just couldn't place her finger on where she'd heard it. Maybe he was one of the nobody supply teachers at Nether Field? No...he didn't seem straight laced enough to teach. He seemed kind of flighty and unfocused. Not really teacher-y at all. At least, none of the teachers she'd had were like that. Besides, she'd have seen him around, wouldn't she?
"Uh...Natesa." she said slightly awkwardly, giving a sort of shy smile and a wave of her hand. "Natesa Mayjor." She squinted again, really unsure who this guy was, although she was certain that she knew him. He wasn't the creepy guy from the bar the other night, was he? ...No. Phew. This guy seemed a lot younger than that creep. Thank god. But that still left the question; Who was this guy?
OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: OPEN NOTES: *DEAD FROM GIGGLES* WORD COUNT: 227 |
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brent zachary mckinney
FIRE SPRITE
cafe worker
I?m addicted to you, don?t you know that you?re toxic?❤
Posts: 113
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Post by brent zachary mckinney on Dec 13, 2012 19:09:49 GMT
[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #FAFAFA; border-left: #fbb90f 2px dashed; border-right: #fbb90f 2px dashed; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 5px; padding-left: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px] Maybe I was naughty once but now I'm 'nice' When Natesa revealed her name, Brent just felt even more determined to find out who she was. He just couldn't quite remember where he knew her from. But he knew that the information he was looking for was hidden in his mind somewhere which just made thinks about fifty million times more annoying. It wasn't fair. This was just one of those things that was beginning to piss Brent off to that point where he almost felt like burning everything in sight.
Natesa Mayjor. He knew that name, it rung a bell somewhere in the fire sprite's brain. Emphasis on the somewhere. Brent really regretted his short attention span and honestly shitty memory sometimes, it irritated him to no end. "I'm just... gah... um um um..." Brent tried desperately to come up with some explanation but couldn't draw any possible conclusion. He let out a frustrated growl. "I get annoyed when I can't remember things." he mentioned quietly. It wasn't really his fault that some things could tick him off so easily.
Brent ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face as he glared into the distance. Where was Sherlock Holmes when you needed him? Nonono. No. Brent was not going to start thinking about Sherlock now. This wasn't the right time to start sobbing as he remembered The Reichenbach Fall. TAG: Nattie-Noo NOTES: -_- OUTFIT: clicky! |
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Post by natesa elise mayjor on Dec 15, 2012 17:03:54 GMT
| [atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor
that's always been a dear friend of mine Oh gads, this was getting so very awfully irritating. She knew him! She knew she did! He was just so damn familiar that she couldn't believe she couldn't place him. She even had his name. Brent McKinney, Brent McKinney, Brent McKinney... god! This was so stupid! She'd actually seen/heard his name somewhere. And she knew his face. But where from?
She was now frowning, her blue eyes narrowed at the ground in concentration. Brent McKinney. From his appearance, he was roughly 25 years old. The only 25 year old she knew was a cousin that she hadn't spoken to in three months. Well. She knew this guy, too, but she didn't know where from. So he didn't really count, did he?
She sighed in defeat. She couldn't place him at all! She couldn't know him then, could she? She'd have known who he was by now. She'd have figured it out; she liked to think that she was quite clever. But then, this was to do with people...and social interaction...maybe she had an excuse? "Maybe we didn't actually--"
And then... it hit.
Her eyes widened, and she pointed at him, bobbing up and down excitedly. Sdfghjklljhfas, she done it! She knew who this was now! It was Brent! Tumblr. Tumblr was how she knew the guy! She knew it! She knew she knew him! But...maybe she should check first? Just in case? "What's your URL?" She asked him. God, she hoped she was right.
OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: OPEN NOTES: *DEAD FROM GIGGLES* WORD COUNT: 227 |
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