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Post by zaharia ray morgen on Mar 4, 2012 21:59:15 GMT -5
 [style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;] sorry for the lameness of the starter thread darling ^.^ DREAM [/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Zaharia had grown up in The Bronx, she had had a rough childhood and Paris was like a walk in the park. She had been staying in a small back street motel which was the type of place that didn't ask questions, she had shot up the night before so now she was off her high she was extremely grumpy. Running a hand through her hair Zaharia grumbled slightly as she walked to the counseling room, she didn't need to see a counselor. People only thought that because she had ended up throwing a chair at one of the teachers. She was dressed in a pair of jeans which were ripped at the knees, a pair of old converses and a white tank top which easily showed all of her scars.
Reaching the counseling room she stared at the door, she didn't want to go in and she didn't want to talk to the person who was behind the door. Sighing she raised a hand and knocked hard on the door, Zaharia was tired and wanted to just be back at the motel with her guitar and her drugs. Biting the inside of her cheek hard she suppressed a groan because her body was aching, it always ached after taking drugs but she didn't care. Pain had become something she was used to.
Continuing to glare at the door Zaharia raised her hand and knocked again before she grasped the door handle and shoved the door open, "I don't want to be here, I don't want to be seeing you but some idiot took my reaction the wrong way" she said harshly as she stayed standing in the door way before she leaned heavily against the door frame.
Running a hand through her hair again roughly Zaharia shook her head slightly before she pushed herself from the door frame and walked over to a chair and dropped into it heavily, groaning a little she bent over with her elbows sitting on her knees with her head in her hands waiting for the man to talk to her about her rudeness for barging in. [/style] |
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Post by haydn kristóff nobel on Mar 6, 2012 0:42:37 GMT -5
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WHEN YOU TRY when you try your best but you don't succeed, when you get what you want but not what you need, when you feel so tired but you can't sleep stuck in reverse words || 5 5 2 || tag || zaharia ♥ || outfit || err later!Days had been awfully busy since the mafia attack a few months ago. Students kept coming and going, wishing to talk to someone other than their parents and friends about what they experienced, who they lost and who they wish got caught in the middle but didn’t. Haydn was sometimes surprised at their reactions. A few seemed so aloof and ok with it while others felt as if the entire attack had revolved around them, even though they spent most of the time locked inside a room with the rest of the students. It was tiresome in a way, but Haydn would never admit that aloud and even chastised himself when he absentmindedly thought about it. This school had given him so much: a place to work, a place to hide, and place where he could actually talk to people and the least he could do is try to help them back. He would be the first one to admit he wasn’t the best counselor in the world but at least he wanted to help, he really did.
His free time had been entirely eaten up by appointments and paper grading. He was exhausted to put it lightly. His day was very close to being over and all he had left to do was put back in the shelves the extensive amount of books he had used to entertain his last student. A large pile of books rested on his arm as he placed them up one by one on the large bookcase. A loud knock on the door was enough to catch him by surprise, being the jumpy person he was Haydn dropped a good part of the books, all of them falling with a soft thud on the elegant carpet that covered his office. “Umh…” He tried to find the words, maybe a ‘wait a second’ or a ‘come in’ but all he could do at the moment was stare down at the fallen books. He didn’t have to say much though, another loud knock later a girl came storming inside his office, leaving him quite perplexed and in a rather funny position: half bent on his way to pick a book.
“Umh…” He repeated the expression, getting back to a vertical position and following the girl with his blue eyes. He was pretty sure there were no more appointments for the day but it wasn’t uncommon for professors to send students to counseling when they felt it needed. Apparently this was one of those cases and from the not-so-bottled anger she was displaying she didn’t share the professor’s thoughts. Walking to his desk he settled the pile on it, the leather spine covers reading titles from the very classics like the Iliad to other science fiction oriented titles and even some of the books he had written under a pseudonym. Variety ftw.
“And what reaction that may be?” He asked curiously while walking around the desk and taking his usual seat. “Oh I’m sorry, so rude of me. I’m professor Nobel or Haydn, either is fine. And your name is…?” He tilted his head, as if asking for her to finish the sentence while in fact he was assessing the situation. This dy was far from being over apparently, oh well, it’s not like he needed to eat anyway. notes || 8333 |
[/td][/tr][/table] TEMPLATE BY ANYA OF CAUTION 2.0
LYRICS BY A FINE FRENZY[/center] |
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Post by zaharia ray morgen on Mar 6, 2012 1:11:04 GMT -5
[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;] DREAM [/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Zaharia slouched back in the chair and crossed her arms over her stomach unhappily, she didn't not want to be talking to be the man before her. "They flipped out cause I threw a chair at them. It was a slight misunderstanding really" she said calmly as she raised an eyebrow slightly as she spoke, smirking slightly at Haydn she shook her head with a laugh. Zaharia had found the situation rather amusing because of the face the professor had made when they noticed the chair heading for their head.
"Seriously? You're trying this friendly crap?" she asked with a laugh as she stayed slouched in the chair before she bit her bottom lip hard because of a wave of pain. Zaharia rolled her eyes before she sighed as she looked at Haydn, "Zaharia. But people call me Aria or Riri" she said shaking her head.
Looking at the books on the desk she frowned slightly as she sat up, leaning forwards she looked at the names on the spines of the books. She had never heard of any of the books, Zaharia rarely read books because they were never something she had access to while she was growing up.
Moving in the chair Zaharia kicked her legs over the arm of the chair comfortably, "So how does this counselling crap work?" she asked with a sigh. She had never seen a counselor even though she should have when her parents died, raising an eyebrow Zaharia crossed her arms over her stomach waiting for Haydn to speak. [/style] |
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