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Post by trista on Oct 12, 2011 22:06:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top] [STYLE=letter-spacing: -6px; text-shadow: -1px 0 #e4934b, 0 1px #5c4b3b, 1px 0 #e4934b, 0 -1px #5c4b3b; position: relative; top: 10px;] goodnight moon★ |
[/color][/b][/font][/size][/style] [/td][/tr][/table] [atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 150px;] [STYLE=border: 10px solid #ffffff; padding: 5px; width: 100px; height: 100px; background-color: #9b9b9b;][/style] [STYLE=border: 10px solid #ffffff; padding: 5px; width: 100px; height: 100px; background-color: #9b9b9b;][/style] [STYLE=border: 10px solid #ffffff; padding: 5px; width: 100px; height: 100px; background-color: #9b9b9b;][/style] | [atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,border: 10px solid #ffffff; padding: 10px; width: 300px; text-align: justify; background-color: #9b9b9b;] [STYLE=line-height: 10px;] TAG ► open, ( WORDS ★ not counting... ) [/style] [STYLE=background-image: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/wi8p06.jpg); width: 290px; padding: 5px; opacity: 0.8;] ► TRISTA SOMETIMES WONDERED WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE IF SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT BEFORE SHE ACTED. Her life would probably be a lot easier. She wouldn’t get into have of the messes that she managed to get herself in. But, on the flip side, her life wouldn’t have been quite as interesting as it was. The reason why Trista was wandering around the cemetery in the middle of the night was exactly because of her act before thinking attitude.
Today while Trista was at work, the shelter was having quite a slow day. It was a Wednesday, around six and apparently nobody wanted to adopt dogs on a Wednesday. So, Trista and the crew were lounging around in one of the back rooms, just waiting for something to do. Somehow the group got onto the subject of horror stories. Cal, one of the guys that worked at the front, was telling a particularly gruesome tale about a girl who was murdered at the cemetery, which wasn’t that far off from where the dog shelter was.
Cal leaned forward as he spoke, getting really into the story and trying his best to scare the pants off of the other girls that he worked with. In the room there were a total of four people. Cal sat across from Trista, who sat next to Lacey and next to Cal was Monica. Lacey looked like she was about to faint while Monica was trying to burrow herself into her sweatshirt to try to block out the story. Trista, on the other hand, just rolled her eyes at Cal.
“That story is a load of bull shit, Cal. Stop trying to scare Lacey and Monica. I think Lacey’s about to pass out.”
Cal snickered and leaned back, resting his arms behind his head while he looked down at Trista. “Fine, if you don’t believe me, why don’t you just go spend the night at the cemetery? Prove me wrong! I bet you couldn’t even last twenty minutes.”
Trista grinned, her lips parting into a devilish smile. “So we’re making a wager, then? If I last more than a few hours, you owe me fifty big ones. If I don’t last that long, I’ll clean the dog cages for a week.”
Cal stuck out his hand and smirked. “Deal.”
And so here Trista was, creeping into the cemetery at night in search of make believe ghosts. Her outfit probably wasn’t the best for ghost hunting, but she wasn’t about to go home and change just so she could go find some imaginary ghost. Currently, she had on a pair of cowgirl boots with a short jean skirt. Underneath that she had on a pair of leggings. She also had on an oversized sweatshirt that ended at just above the skirt, just enough where you could see she was wearing a skirt.
Trista pushed her sleeves up and flicked on her flashlight. It was one she stole from work. It wasn’t like her boss paid attention to stuff like that anyway. She approached the cemetery and frowned. The area was surrounded by a fence, locked up tight for the night. It looked like she’d have to climb the fence to get in. Trista lobbed the flashlight over the fence before hopping on the thing herself. She climbed up the fence with practiced ease, quite used to doing all sorts of strange things like this thanks to her career as a stunt woman.
Tris hopped down from the fence and stooped to pick up her flashlight. As she swung the light across the cemetery, she noticed the light start to flicker. “Oh no, you are not dying on me!” She hissed, smacking the thing with her hand. That only quickened the process and soon enough, the light went dead. “Shit.” Trista cursed, smacking the flashlight against her hand to try to get it to work again. It was during her angry smacking that she heard something move, followed by a large thump. Trista froze, looking up from her angry beating to try to see what made the noise. “…Ghosts don’t make thumping sounds, right?” She whispered to herself as she squinted in the darkness, trying to see what was the cause of the disturbance.
NOTES ► first post woo!
DATE ○ some Wednesday in October. TIME ○ Night time! Probably around ten or eleven. WEATHER ○ slightly chilly night, cloudy and in general spooky [/style] |
BY RIMY[/url] from BTN [/font][/size] [/center]
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Post by NANA CROSS on Nov 1, 2011 13:36:07 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: url('http://i.imgur.com/ajvTt.jpg'); width: 425px;][style=background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 5px; font-size: 12px; color: #cacaca; padding-left: 10px;]but no one else ever can see[/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 7px;][/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 10px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #cacaca; text-align: justify; width: 97px; margin-top: 125px; margin-right: -115px;]tagged;; trista, open
words;; 758
notes;; and my first post with nana, woot! not sure i gave you enough to go off of…
credits;; template by jetplane of btn[/style] [style=font-family: tahoma; color: #333333; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; margin-right: 110px;] A cemetery was definitely not the best place for a nap, she had a crick in her neck and she was chilled to the bone. Nana shivered herself awake and hugged her arms to herself tightly, pressing the loose sweater closer to her body. “Fucking cold,” she cursed through clenched teeth. But instead of getting up to leave, she remained stubbornly sitting with her back against her mother’s headstone. Her brothers would probably have a fit if they could see her right now (especially Nathan), and quite frankly she thought the ‘her’ right now was extremely pathetic. She had pretty much convinced Dan and Greg that she was fine, it was just Nate who still stubbornly fretted over her despite her constant assurances that she was completely over it. Honestly, what happened to the brother who used to be the ringleader of the ‘Make Nana’s Life Miserable’ club?
She shivered and checked her phone for the time. 10:32pm. Damn, she’d been here for four hours, just when had she fallen asleep? Besides that, it was odd that the groundskeeper hadn’t come to make her leave. Maybe he had just assumed she had left for the evening already like she normally did. Yeah, she was something of a regular. She usually wound up at the cemetery with a bottle or two of beer at least once a week. Heh, some way to prove she could take care of herself – spending her free evenings in a cemetery drinking herself to sleep, yeah that definitely proved Nate wrong.
With a groan, Nana stood up, her hand clutching her head as the dark world spun slightly. “Bad idea,” she muttered, but she was already up – she didn’t want to spend another minute in this depressing place. Alcohol only exacerbated the situation, she really should know better than to bring a couple bottles along when she paid the cemetery a visit. Not to mention the bottles usually got left behind for the groundskeeper to pick up – god knows what he thought of the petite girl who frequently got drunk at his cemetery. He had tried to talk to her a couple times but Nana wasn’t really in the mood for conversation when she came here.
Gah, being drunk was bad enough, but being drunk in high heeled boots was a nightmare. She had been heading toward the light (what was she dying?) when she rolled her right ankle and tottered precariously. With a ‘thud’ Nana’s knee collided painfully with a tree trunk as she tried to get her balance back. Nana let out a long exhale and swore under her breath. A quiet voice, she couldn’t quite make out what it said, sounded nearby. The petite drunk blinked and attempted to focus her unfocused eyes on the hazy, shadowed figure. Thank god she’d left her eye-patch at home; it was difficult enough to see with both eyes open at the moment.
“Tomas?” she queried, keeping her voice as steady as possible as she too squinted and tried to make out who it was standing some feet diagonally from her location. She had tried the groundskeeper’s name first (well she hoped it was his name, in her drunken haze it was the first name that came to mind) after coming to the conclusion that he was the only one who could possibly still be wandering the cemetery grounds at this hour of the night. Of course ‘Tomas’ was already at home, happily asleep next to his wife, and this person before her was a total stranger.
Her eyes had focused enough now to draw the conclusion that it was a woman, not a man, who was out there. “Not Tomas…” she muttered to herself and allowed her body to drop back down to the ground. Yeah, standing up had been a bad idea, and now her knee hurt as well. Nana swore under her breath again and leaned her head back against the very tree she had smacked into. Damn, she should start wearing more sensible shoes, and maybe some warmer clothes… the black sweater she wore was several sizes too large for her and hung off one shoulder as if she could possibly slip her whole body out through the neck – she probably could. Oh well, at least she was wearing jeans rather than leggings.
She raised her voice to a more normal speaking level and slurred her words a little as she spoke. “Visiting hours are over.” Lame, she thought. Nana had really hoped to never run into anyone when she was like this… [/style] |
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Post by alister on Nov 2, 2011 1:09:13 GMT -5
[atrb=cellspacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 542px; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/YcfHv.jpg); -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px, btable][atrb=valign,top]"Damn it's cold..", Alister muttered to himself as he entered the cemetery. Who the hell comes to a cemetery after visiting hours? Alister, that's who! But he definitely had a good reason for doing so. Today marked the day of one of his first patient's funeral. It had been a while since the beginning of his residency at Mount Sinai Hospital, but he would never forget the frequent visitor Annabelle Lane. A young woman who suffered from cancer for years before passing away a few days ago. As Alister crept sneakily through the cemetery, he pulled out a small sheet of paper with directions to the deceased woman's tomb stone. It's gonna be a long night he thought himself. AND he had to wake up early for work tomorrow. It took the physician fifteen minutes to finally find the tombstone. It was like a goddamn maze in the cemetery, especially when you consider that a majority of the tombstones looked the same. While approaching the young woman's tombstone, Alister placed the sheet of paper back into his pocket and frowned as he read the name ANABELLE LANE. "You were so strong", he whispered as if he was talking to her through the stone. "Y'know, you had a way of really effecting those around you. To be honest, you made me the doctor I am today. My first patient. My first real case on my own as a physician...God I was so naive back then. So young and dumb. But you, you were so strong and smart at such a young age." Alister's eyes began to water as he knelt down beside the tombstone. "I wish I had time to buy flowers", he said while observing the beautiful assortment of bouquets surrounding the stone. "And I wish I could have made the burial, but you know how it is at the hospital. Never any free time as a resident." The doctor chuckled as he wiped his eyes. "I have some good news though. I think I'm gonna specialize in pediatric emergencies after this residency. Maybe enter some prestigious fellowship. That would be awesome, right?"Alister smiled as he placed his hand on top of the stone. "I'm gonna come back sometime soon, and bring you a huge bouquet of flowers, okay? I wish I could stay longer, but I have busy day ah--", the doctor stopped mid-sentence as he heard a voice from nearby. Shit, what if the cops saw me lurking and decided to come give me a ticket, he immediately thought to himself. The man slowly walked towards a nearby mausoleum and peeked his head along the side of it. The first thing he noticed was a young woman surrounded by bottles of what must have been alcohol. A drunk in a cemetery? How respectful, he thought sarcastically to himself. It was at this time that Alister began to feel angry. He always seemed to let his emotional run rampant if he felt strongly enough. And with the death of his favorite patient, he knew this wasn't going to turn out well. As he began to walk towards the young woman and explain to her how disrespectful she was acting, he noticed a flash of light flickering nearby. Another person? This is getting weird, he thought. Regardless, Alister continued towards the woman, but stopped abruptly as he heard her speak in a drunken stupor towards the other visitor. “Visiting hours are over.” That only seemed to anger Alister even more. Who was she to tell the other cemetery visitor something like that. Especially while drunk. Once Alister reached the young woman, he gave her a disappointed look. The young woman was obviously younger than him, so he tried to calm himself down a bit before making a statement. He wouldn't wanna hurt her feelings or anything, but he still wanted to get his point across. "Don't you think it'd be wiser of you to drink at home instead of here?", Alister said aloud as his eyes changed focus between the woman with a flickering light and the young drunk woman. He made sure to speak in a more sensitive tone, rather than an assertive one. No reason to cause a problem, but hopefully he'd be able to keep it that way...hopefully. |
MADE BY BUBBLES OF BTN AND SA
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