- - - SHE SPINS

[DEMIA ALEESHA PRICE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #f5ffeb; border-left: solid 7px #003870; border-right: solid 7px #700000; -moz-border-radius: 200px 0px 200px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 0px 200px 0px; border-radius: 200px 0px 200px 0px; true] she's real to me cray/wren. words 600. outfit. notes; c: It wasn’t that Demia chose to keep to herself, it was that she didn’t really know how to speak to people just yet. She was scared. Scared of rejection, of humiliation, of the harsh words that would no doubt come from the people she spoke to. People back home were not exactly the kindest. They didn’t exactly think of her in high regards, and for reasons that were far beyond her control. Demia could dye her hair to hide its ginger tone but it wouldn’t change the fact that it existed. Changing her appearance wouldn’t help the fact that it existed, it would just hide it. But it would always be there. The best she could really do was make sure that everything else about her appearance was acceptable. When she got a craving for a snack or food in general she simply convinced herself that she didn’t need it. She didn’t need it. She didn’t want it. Demia was in denial of how badly she was hurting herself. In denial about this being any sort of an issue. Dante helped, at least he tried to, but her entire life was revolving around making sure she wasn’t succumbing to the ugliness that people seemed to think she was infected with. She stood in front of a wrack of snacks, little things like candy bars and tiny bags of chips, debating whether or not she should, or more importantly should, have one. She was trying to do the math in her head based on calories and fat intake and how much she had already had to eat today. Her tiny little voice somewhat whispered to herself, doing the calculations out loud just very, very quietly until she simply shook her head and looked down at herself. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth the weight she would gain. But she felt awkward coming to the store and not buying anything. What if they suspected her of stealing something, which had happened before. It was actually pretty common for people to suspect her of being a part of the stereotype for her ethnicity, even if she didn’t completely look it. So she spun around and quickly scanned over the contents of the store, grabbing herself a water bottle and starting to wander toward the notebooks and stationary. Wandering, for the most part. She simply wandered and grabbed a pack of pencils and stopped to linger at the notebooks. She wanted one to write down her notes in as far as her diet went, but it would have to be something Dante wouldn't really want to look in. Something he wouldn't make a fuss about, because she didn't like worrying him. Nor did she really fancy the idea of him scolding her or lecturing her. Sometimes he forced her to eat a meal and she always felt so hideous afterwards. Uhg. Stop thinking about this, Demia. Just stop. Just find some cute little notebook covered in butterflies or something else girly that he wouldn't really have an interest in. She picked a few up and peeked inside at the way the paper was, wanting something just plain and simple rather than elaborately decorated corners and headers. Why did they need to be so fancy when all they would be used for was notes and scribbles? She finally picked one and spun around to head to the register, grasping in minor fright as she nearly ran into someone. "Wren!" she voiced with her hand pressed to her chest. "You scared me!" Which honestly wasn't all that difficult, to be honest.

[WREN RYDER ANDERSON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/3XJPa.png); -moz-border-radius: 40px 40px 40px 40px; border-radius:40px 40px 40px 40px; padding: 20px; border: #181818 solid 10px; ][STYLE= background: url(http://i.imgur.com/fr4hK.png); -moz-border-radius: 40px 40px 0px 0px; border-radius:40px 40px 0px 0px; height: 150px; width: 350px; vertical-align: top; opacity: 0.8;] [/style][STYLE=width: 350px; background-color: 181818; padding-top: 4px; text-align; center; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 16px; font-family: arial narrow; letter-spacing: 5px; color: 777777;] waiting for a long time [/style][STYLE=width: 350px; background-color: 181818; padding-top: -4px; padding-bottom: 5px; text-align; center; text-transform: lowercase; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 2px; color: 777777;] the sleight of my hand is now a quick pull trigger [/style][STYLE= width: 330px; background-color: 5e5e5e; text-align: justify; padding-right: 10px; padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; line-height: 9px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: 181818; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 40px 40px; border-radius:0px 0px 40px 40px; text-transform: lowercase;] A groan emitted from the boys throat as he walked around the dorm, one hand reaching up and scratching at his head. "Where is it..." A childish tone came into his voice as he complained to himself, pacing back and forth in his dorm. Walking to the pantry, the boy opened it and took a look inside for the umpteenth time that day. Yet not a single piece of candy was found. Not even a damn Tootsie Roll. Wren pushed through the contents of the pantry, moving things around to see if anything was hidden behind it. Nothing. The blonde frowned, I was positive that I still had a stash... Then, the thought hit him. Artie had stolen it. When Wren had last talked to Artie, the boy was telling Wren how unhealthy his candy intake was. Could it be that his little freshman dorm mate was the one who hid his candy? sure, wren appreciated artie's concern for his well being but there was no need to hide the candy. His thoughts lingered around a bit more. Alexa? Massy? Just in the chat the other day, Alexa mentioned something about coming inside their dorm with Massy and stole some of his candy. Could it be that they took all of it? trying to think, wren turned his speakers down a little, not really able to think from the booming of the stereo. the current song that was playing, pumped up kicks, was stuck in his head the whole day. he took out the backpack his sister had bought him when he last visited her in new york. the design of it was really simple, something that wren didn't like when his sister bought it for him but nevertheless, the boy still promised her that he would use it. with the music still blasting in the background, wren took his shirt off and changed into a cleaner one, tugging on a hoodie. wren decided that now was probably a good time to go to the school store, restock his candy stash and all that. he changed out of his basketball shorts and put on a fresh pair of jeans, grabbing the backpack and rummaged through it, finally founding an envelope filled with cash, yet another gift from his sister. wren walked to the store, a hand running through his hair while he thought about what he was going to buy. let's see... i need a notebook, candy, uh... yeah, that's it. walking into the store, wren headed straight for the candy section. if anyone knew him well, they would know that wren usually spent at least an hour just examining over the candy before he chose anything. today was different though, he didn't exactly know why but he had the feeling like he needed to rush his little candy spree. finding an empty shopping basket that was carelessly left on the floor, wren picked it up and started walking up and down the aisle, throwing bags of candy into the basket. skittles, starburst, sour patch, etc. wren only stopped when he felt the basket getting heavy. finishing his candy part of the restock, wren walked around the store trying to look for the stationary aisle, where the notebooks usually were but right when he turned the corner to walk into the aisle, wren had almost bumped into someone. someone familiar. "ahh! hi demia! fancy seeing you here!" a smile lit up his face, looking down at his friend. "so, what are you here for?" [STYLE=width: 320px; background-color: 181818; padding-top: 4px; padding-bottom: 5px; text-align; center; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -0.5px; color: 777777;]words: enough tagged: demia! lyrics: pumped up kicks - battle round outfit: click it[/style] [/style]

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table made by MOCKINGBIRD of BTN
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[DEMIA ALEESHA PRICE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #f5ffeb; border-left: solid 7px #003870; border-right: solid 7px #700000; -moz-border-radius: 200px 0px 200px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 0px 200px 0px; border-radius: 200px 0px 200px 0px; true] she's real to me cray/wren. words idk. outfit. notes; c: Friends were scarce for Demia. Not because she didn’t want any but because people didn’t seem all that interested in her. She often felt like a burden when she was being introduced to her brother’s friends. Like he felt obligated to share companions. It was a silly thing to think, as her and Dante had never had any problem sharing before. They had each other and then everyone else came afterwards, so feeling like a burden to him was stupid. Stupid but not something she could help. Some days she just couldn’t help but become consumed with negative thoughts. Years of ridicule and verbal abuse had really done a number on her. Demia tried to stay positive and keep her head above water, but I was difficult. The best thing, she found, was to simply keep distracted. Wren was probably the best distraction anyone could wish for. His energy knew no bounds and was only enhanced by his addiction to candy, which quite frankly disgusted her. He could eat so much candy and stay so fit, while she had one piece and felt like she gained five pounds. It was actually kind of infuriating. She looked from Wren then down t his basket of candy and her nose couldn’t help but crinkle with disgust and concern as she faced Wren yet again. “Just a notebook, I lost my other one,” she replied in her small voice, looking down at his candy yet again. “Did your stash run out?” She really wished Wren would cut back on his candy intake. As said, Demia didn’t have very many friends but the ones she did have she cared about deeply. She would hate to see Wren develop diabetes, and knowing him he wouldn’t commit to the diet diabetics needed and would end up with cataracts and an amputated limb. Look at her, little miss optimism. “Are you just here for candy? How are you doing?” Wren was one of the few people Demia felt comfort around. One of the few people she could talk to without stumbling over herself. She knew him well enough to not have to worry about how awkward and quirky she could be at times. It was difficult to be unhappy around a guy like Wren because his smile was always so vibrant. It lit up his entire face and she couldn't help but smile back to him. It was a shame that everyone else didn't have the same affect on people. A shame that not everyone could be so content all of the time. She envied that about Wren. How happy he seemed to be. It almost appeared effortless on his part. Demia nibbled her lip a bit and held the notebook close to her chest, the other hand tugging at the end of her cardigan so her delicate little fingers curled around the end of the sleeves. It wasn't even that cold inside but she was freezing to the point of near shivering. Unaware that this was a side effect of her horrible, horrible diet. "How's Massy?" Demia didn't talk to her very often if at all, but she knew that Massy was someone Wren seemed to care a lot about. If he cared about her then it was only polite for Demia to as well.