BROKEN

[deimos basileus cosmatos]

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[atrb=style, background-image: url('http://i417.photobucket.com/albums/pp256/doggydude24/misc/grey-parchment.jpg'); border-right: 1px dotted #1C1C1C; border-top: 3px solid #1C1C1C; border-left: 1px dotted #1C1C1C; border-bottom: 3px solid #1C1C1C; border-bottom-left-radius: 50px; border-bottom-right-radius: 50px;] [STYLE=float: right; border: 4px solid #1C1C1C; width: 90px; height: 90px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: -60px;][/style] [STYLE=float: right; border: 4px solid #1C1C1C; width: 90px; height: 90px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: -60px;][/style][STYLE= margin-top: -57px; margin-right: 200px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 23px; color: #FFFFFF; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #151515; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: left;]I AM NOT IMMUNE,[/style] [STYLE=float: left; text-align: justify; margin-top: -64px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 214px; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; color: #1C1C1C; opacity: 0.7; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px;]I ONLY WANNA BE LOVED, BUT I FEEL SAFE BEHIND THE FIREWALL. CAN I LOSE MY NEED TO IMPRESS? IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH, I NEED TO CONFESS: I AM NOT ALRIGHT, I'M BROKEN INSIDE, BROKEN INSIDE. AND ALL I'VE GONE THROUGH, IT LEADS ME TO YOU.[/style] [STYLE=width: 330px; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; background-color: #F7F7F7; color: #1C1C1C; padding: 18px; text-align: justify; border-top: 3px solid #1C1C1C; margin-top: 42px; border-bottom-left-radius: 30px; border-bottom-right-radius: 30px;]Dem had dragged his feet around enough. And enough was enough. Really, it was getting ridiculous. Why was he so depressed over some dude that just up and left? Did he have no self esteem at all? Alright, he did care a lot for Sam and he could’ve at least left a note or something, hell, Dem would’ve been happy with a merely ‘bye’ from the other but no, nothing. He literally just disappeared off the face of earth and Deimos was left standing there like a fool. Well fuck that, he was back on his feet again and like hell he was going to let anyone else do that to him again. It only served to remind him why he was the way he was; why he was an asshole who dated girls and ditched them a week later and like hell he was going to change again for some dude, or girl, or alien. Whatever. Deimos sighed deeply, trying to get all those thoughts away as he flopped on one of the many chairs that lay around the art studio. In front of him was a formerly white wall, now covered with intricate designs he had sketched during the course of the past week. He had dwelled in depression for more than he should’ve and his school life had suffered as consequence. He managed to fail two classes, one of them was important enough to make Deimos snap out of his stupor. How could he fail a class about colors? He knew everything about colors. He played with them since he could remember and he used and abused them in every sketch he drew on his notebook. Professors weren’t cruel dictators though, and a visit to the counselor was enough to convince them that Dem had been going through some rough times. Second chances were handed over and Deimos wasn’t about to waste them. Of course he had to sacrifice a little. His free time was suffering as he had to stay after classes were over to work on extra projects and such. This wall covered in lines of black and grey was one of those projects. The hell if he was going to fail this one class. Satisfied with the results so far Deimos played with the brush on his hand while taking a short break. Soon enough this would be finished and the art studio would be adorned with what he felt would be one of his master pieces. A small smile lingered on his lips, one that hadn’t appeared in a long time as he tilted his head from side to side, trying to get different perspectives to the painting in front of him. He was satisfied so far, and all he needed to do was continue with his spirits up and just close himself to everything else but school. He was an artist, what the hell did he have to do fiddling around with love life when all he needed was a good notebook, pencils and inspiration… right? Right! Or well… he wanted to think he was right… Deimos let the smile linger for a few more second before feeling it fade away. He still felt lonely though, even more so in the deserted school. Glancing at the door he was momentarily distracted by the sound of what he thought were footsteps. Meh, he was going crazy and imagining things, well crazy artists got more money from their paintings anyway~ [/style]

[STYLE=font-size: 9px; margin-top: -2px;]MADE BY KIWII AT BTN![/style]

[jethro lewis mclean]

Jet ran quickly down the hall, the broken statue in his hands. “Move out of the way art emergency! Red alert! Death con 1!” He yelled out, jogging to the clay room. He held in his right hand, a small statute of a human with pointed ears, well it was a fairy, but that was hard to tell as in his other hand was the wings. He had knocked over his sisters gift and now was desperate to fix it. He had worked hard on this piece of art for her. With its tiny features that resembled her. Its green eyes and curly blond hair, it’s pale skin and round smiling face. It’s hand stretched out to a butterfly that was landing on his finger tips. Her dress was a light shade of blue, her favorite color. It had taken forever to make this character, and now it was in pieces. But he had a plan, he was going to use so glue to get the wing back on, then place clay flowers on the wings to hide the crack. It would work, it had to work.

In his family, the only one the young irishman could truly say he loved, was his sister. She was the world to him, the sun rose and set on her smile. He would do anything for her, give an arm, shoot both arms. Threw his live he had protected her like she as a princess, and to him she was. Which was why he was now running down a hallway not paying attention to what was around him, so much that he didn’t see Dem, until he ran into him head on. By some miracle he didn’t drop the fairy.

[deimos basileus cosmatos]

[atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=width,400,bTable]

[atrb=style, background-image: url('http://i417.photobucket.com/albums/pp256/doggydude24/misc/grey-parchment.jpg'); border-right: 1px dotted #1C1C1C; border-top: 3px solid #1C1C1C; border-left: 1px dotted #1C1C1C; border-bottom: 3px solid #1C1C1C; border-bottom-left-radius: 50px; border-bottom-right-radius: 50px;] [STYLE=float: right; border: 4px solid #1C1C1C; width: 90px; height: 90px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: -60px;][/style] [STYLE=float: right; border: 4px solid #1C1C1C; width: 90px; height: 90px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: -60px;][/style][STYLE= margin-top: -57px; margin-right: 200px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 23px; color: #FFFFFF; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #151515; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: left;]I AM NOT IMMUNE,[/style] [STYLE=float: left; text-align: justify; margin-top: -64px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 214px; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; color: #1C1C1C; opacity: 0.7; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px;]I ONLY WANNA BE LOVED, BUT I FEEL SAFE BEHIND THE FIREWALL. CAN I LOSE MY NEED TO IMPRESS? IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH, I NEED TO CONFESS: I AM NOT ALRIGHT, I'M BROKEN INSIDE, BROKEN INSIDE. AND ALL I'VE GONE THROUGH, IT LEADS ME TO YOU.[/style] [STYLE=width: 330px; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; background-color: #F7F7F7; color: #1C1C1C; padding: 18px; text-align: justify; border-top: 3px solid #1C1C1C; margin-top: 42px; border-bottom-left-radius: 30px; border-bottom-right-radius: 30px;]Oh how lovely it felt to be lost in one’s thoughts. It really felt good to be alone with something other than the nagging voice in his mind telling him that he was doing things wrong and that he should be doing something other than moping around like a sad sap. Dem had forgotten how good it felt to do art just for the fun of it. He really was meant to do this and nothing else. His mind was making happy cartwheels and riding an overall distracted train of thought that he didn’t even notice someone approaching him at a rather unsafe speed. Deimos’ head was in fact so distracted that he didn’t even register the previous yelling. Everything in his head derailed only when he felt someone crashing against him. The image would’ve been an enjoyable one if seen in slow motion. Dem’s face went from utter panic to pained in less than a couple seconds, passing through a series of different states like surprised, stranged, and even a little angry. He was now on the floor, looking thoroughly confused and with another person on top of him. While normally he wouldn’t have minded it and dismissed it as an accident he couldn’t help but notice the person on top of him was Jethro. Now… the two of them didn’t exactly have the best of starts, seeing Deimos had behaved like a little angry bitch at first but later encounters had left him with a better flavor. Still, it felt pretty awkward to have another guy in a position like they were in right now, seeing he was supposedly straight and all that. “Umh… do you mind…?” Was he blushing now? He was hoping not but the hot feeling in his face was telling him otherwise. His eyes were now avoiding all and any eye contact with Jethro and as such they came to land on the statue the other was holding. Noticing it was broken Deimos felt a slight ting of guilt in his chest. “Was that broken before we crashed?” Oh please say yes… Dem remembered Jet talking about him making sculptures for his precious little sister and he definitely didn’t want to be guilty for breaking one of them. Not that it had been his fault, the crash and all but still… he’d feel bad. [/style]

[STYLE=font-size: 9px; margin-top: -2px;]MADE BY KIWII AT BTN![/style]