Jynx Winters
Fine Arts 
Cosmetic Arts
Senior (Grade 12)
You can be as cold as the winter weather, but I don't care as long as we're together.
Posts: 20
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Post by Jynx Winters on Nov 24, 2011 0:09:17 GMT -5
  Jynx couldn't help herself. Why shouldn't she go into the shop that had her name on it? Plus, it looked like they had some pretty cute clothes inside. There was nothing holding her back as she pushed open the door of the little boutique. She had been in here a few times during her past three years at Pallet High School, but they had been fleeting times with friends, who had decided that they would rather go elsewhere.
Today, though, Jynx was on her own, and was curious to see if the shop had anything she might like, and if it was in her size. She pulled down her red peasant blouse so that it covered more of her skinny jeans and started walking around, looking at everything the store had to offer.
It was nice to be back and just doing something simple like shopping for clothes in the town of Pallet, where she had made some of her fondest memories. She had made friends here, and she had devoted herself to the study of Cosmetic Arts, her true passion. She could make people look beautiful, and feel good about themselves. The beauty, and the good feelings the beauty gave to people, made Jynx more and more happy with her choice of major every day. Her minor, Anatomy, was also helpful in helping to advance beauty, even if it was a more science-like class. It was good to look at things from a more professional perspective, too.
She held up a red skirt that had lots of glimmering sequins across it and a string tie with little red plastic gems on the ends of the strings. She held it up to her waist, considering the choice. She saw someone out of the corner of her eye, looking through the clothes as well. She wanted an opinion on the skirt, and so she decided to ask what they thought of the skirt. There was nothing wrong with asking for an honest opinion, was there?
"Excuse me," Jynx asked in a prim and polite voice as she turned to face the person she was addressing. "Does this work for me? D'you think I'd look good in this? 'Cause I really like it," She looked down at the skirt she had against her waist. "I just dunno if it looks good on me or whateva."
Summary: [/i] Jynx wanders into the Jynx boutique and starts looking through the racks of clothes. She comes across a red skirt with sequins, and is considering if it would look good. She decides to ask the person she sees across from her (Atticus or Flora) what they think of her skirt, and if she should get it or not. Comments:[/i] It can be either Atticus or Flora that she's addressing, all depends on who replies first. Looking forward to seeing where this thread goes! :D [/blockquote] |
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Atticus Sanford
Science and Technology
Electrical Engineering
Sophomore (Grade 10)
Posts: 29
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Post by Atticus Sanford on Nov 24, 2011 18:19:28 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 550px; border: 10px solid #66654a; background: #fdf701; color: d4cf00; vertical-align: top; text-align: justify; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: -2px; padding: 5px; line-height: 15px; font-weight: bolder; ] Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close. The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold. And even though you are next to me I still feel so alone. I just can't give you anything for you to call your own. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. Something I've been keeping locked away behind my lips. I can feel it breaking free with each and every kiss. I couldn't bear to hurt you but it's all so different now. Things that I was sure of, they have filled me up with doubt. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. How am I supposed to feel about the things I've done? I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run. I know that I hurt you, things will never be the same. The only love I ever knew, I threw it all away. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Breathing by Yellowcard |
[atrb=style, opacity: 0.8][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left] [/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left] [/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left] [/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 360px; margin-top: -500px; z-index: 1; position: relative, bTable][atrb=style,border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.6; background: #ffffff; ][style=font-family: Helvetica; color: #5e5858; height: 300px;overflow: -moz-scrollbars-vertical;overflow-y: auto; padding-right: 10px; font-family: Helvetica; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; ]Bollocks, he thought to himself, staring at the torn red fabric in his hands. He shook his head before stuffing it back into the pocket of his striped sweatshirt. Ugh. He loved his siblings, he really did. But there were moments when he really, really, really just wanted to punch the snot out of them. No doubt Faron had been going through his things again and stumbled upon the red scarf. The young child most likely proceeded to wear it around the house when Mary caught sight of it and tried to take it back from him.
A game of tug-a-war undoubtedly proceeded which left his precious scarf in tatters. He sighed. At least it wasn't one from Britain. He'd have one heck of hay-day if it were one of his better ones. But alas, this red scarf was not bought in Britain, but instead from a small boutique in Pallet.
"Faron, I'm going to gut you, stuff you, carve you up, and serve you in place of a Thanksgiving turkey," he grumbled.
He entered the boutique, a slight jingling of bells informing others of his presence. It wasn't the first time he had been in here. In fact, he had come here rather often for various other kinds of scarves, so he let his legs lead him. He passed a couple other browsing customers before he found himself by a stand-alone rolling cart of scarves.
"They have new ones," he breathed, running his fingers along some of the thinner fabrics. He tugged the one he was looking for off the cart and wrapped it around his neck before examining how it looked in the mirror.
Nodding in approval, he removed it and slung the scarf over his arm. He skimmed over the other choices, poo-pooing most of them in his mind. Was it just him, or did the choices here seem more bland than the ones in Britain? Maybe he was being too dramatic. However, one in particular caught his eye. A black and white striped scarf sat innocently behind a blue and orange (anyone get the reference?) one. He went to grab it when a voice stopped him.
"Excuse me. Does this work for me? D'you think I'd look good in this? 'Cause I really like it. I just dunno if it looks good on me or whateva," a young woman said from beside him. He turned, almost shocked. Did she know she was asking a guy for an opinion on clothes? He knit his eyebrows together, looking her from top to bottom and back again. Ah what the heck? What could possibly be wrong with offering up some advice?
"Well," he began, "I think it definitely suits you color-wise. But, in my personal opinion, I can't quite say I like the sequins an all, but then again, I'm not really one for sparkling things, love," he said with a small shrug.
His focus was now on the skirts that hung on the rack, and his inner designer began emerging. There was a pale yellow skirt that, if it were the right size, would've looked adorable on Mary. Beside it, a nice vibrant green skirt sat with several small flowers decorating the side of it. He tugged the skirt off the hanger and held it up to eye level. Suddenly lost in his own world, he found himself mentally critiquing it.
Hm, it takes a special kind of person to pull off this shade, he thought, holding it up as though he were holding it up to a customer a distance away. Well... she could wear it, I suppose, he mused, cocking his head to one side. Without thinking on it too much, he turned to the young woman who had talked to him first.
"I think she could wear this color rather nicely, don't you?" he asked.
TAGGED : Jynx, Flora
WORD COUNT : 630
NOTES : ---
CREDITS: TEMPLATE by JAWN of AA, OTE, DMB and TC[/style] |
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