[fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; border-bottom: white solid 4px; width: 470px; height: 160px; background: url(http://bestanimations.com/Natu…ature-animated-gif-21.gif); background-size: 100%]
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"And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing, and I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind. Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear. Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here."
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| [fancypost bgcolor=#406683; border: none; width: 317px; height: 300px; padding: 10px; overflow: hidden; margin-left: -5px; margin-top: 5px; border-radius: 1em 0em 0em 1em;][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 317px; height: 300px; padding: 0px; padding-right: 27px; overflow: auto][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 317px; min-height: 300px; padding: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana] If Disa was humored by his joke, she didn't show it. She was slightly startled by his question, but she regained her composure and pretended to give it some thought. Truth was, it didn't need thought. She knew straight off the top of her head why. Finally, she said, "Same reason I haven't killed any biters or people in the apocalypse." Deciding that expanding on that vaguely would be the better of the choices, she muttered, "I regret what I did. That's why." She shifted uncomfortably under her jacket, and the tattoo on her forearm flickered in her thoughts. It created a physical sensation of pain; it was past guilt. It was long since seared into her skin, but she still felt the pain of the tattoo. Getting it seemed painless, but why she got it was quite the opposite. The leather from her jacket felt sticky on her neck, but she remained silent. After a moment she asked flatly, almost positive that she already knew the answer, "I'm guessing you didn't kill anyone before the apocalypse?" It would have been nearly impossible, with his degree and such to have done such a thing. In New York, no one seemed to care. The only things that mattered there was business and money. OOC;; Honestly, I just had that scene play in my mind, and damn Disa's like 'YOU'RE YELLING ABOUT THAT? THERE'S MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT, because she likes to get in business and is super envious and is a brat who likes the center of attention. By the way, I like seriously can't wait till everyone (mostly Dylan atm, because he's the only one of whom she really dropped hints to) figures out who she killed. It's hilarious, because I usually don't make dark characters; I feel like they're super generic and look for attention most of the time, but I put a pathetic amount of thought into her backstory. It's sad. [/fancypost][/fancypost][/fancypost] |
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[fancypost bgcolor=white; borderwidth=0px; width: 470px; height: 2px; font-family: georgia; color: black; font-size: 5pt; text-align: center; line-height: 5px;]TEMPLATE ©BOKEH | BEWARE OF HIDDEN SCROLLIE | #BOKEHFANCY[/fancypost]




