the death of innocence [ open ]

[BUNNY MOON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #2F2F2F; border-radius: 8px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 30px 0px 0px 10px;][STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 128px; color: #FFFFFF; line-height: 30px; text-transform: uppercase;] W[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #2F2F2F; border-radius: 0px 8px 0px 0px; padding: 30px 5px 10px 0px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 40px; color: #FFFFFF; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -3px; line-height: 28px; margin-left: -4px;]HAT I'VE BEEN LIVING FOR [/style][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 9px; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 0px 15px 0px 15px;]❝ AND NOW YOU'RE KNOCKING ON MY FRONT DOOR, THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN LIVING FOR, EXCUSE ME WHILE I LAUGH MY ASS OFF. ❞ [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,background-color: #FFFFFF;][atrb=vAlign,top] [STYLE=width: 274px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 11px; color: #737678; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; border-bottom: #2F2F2F 8px solid;] █ Innocence was all a lie, Bunny had grown up believing in happily ever afters. Tales of true love and justice and good conquering evil. When she had hid thirteen, the tales of love and justice and in the name of the moon had come to an end and she had seen the world for what it really was. She had seen the evil men succeed time and time again, had seen them take what they wanted from those who were supposed to triumph. It was why, when she had come of age, Bunny had no problems with the fact that she knew to get what she want, she had to be reckless. The woman had surrounded herself with friends that she knew wouldn't care whether she was doused in darkness or whether she was the most glorious of angels. She had kept those people, hoarded them jealously like a mother bear. She would not let others have them. However, she herself would not be loyal, oh no, she had to be dark and terrible to have the fame and succession that she so desperately sought. Selfishness came easily to the twin-tailed girl and in her mind, this was all right, as she would work her way to the top. And where else to start but with fame? She had become a contest entrant to earn her stripes, have everyone (who was important, anyways) know her name - and boy did they know it. Sure, she had a rather dangerous few competitors, people she actually enjoyed competing against but that didn't mean that after a few years around the circuit, people didn't know who she was. In fact, the opposite was true, much to her delight. She rarely went into a town without at least one person recongising her. Just one step closer to being queen of the world. In her selfishness, Bunny felt she had to be rewarded from time to time, to hear the sweet sounds of people being interested in what she had to do - even asking for her autograph on occassion. Which was why she had ventured out that day, desperately seeking some kind of attention from someone or other. Her innocent, sweet facade was plastered on her face, broken only by the cheeky quirk in her lip. Ahh, someone had to recognise her, to adore her. She simply needed to feel important. Her pace quickened as she hit the footpath of the city. She would find a coffee shop or a bar and go in, grace the world with her presence. Long strides pushed her through the crowd as she searched for somewhere, someone to adore her. Blonde hair cascaded behind her as she stopped in front of a small but modern looking bar and she pushed the door open. Even if no one knew her, she could surely find someone here to worship her. That was the best part about being Bunny Moon. [/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,background-color: #FFFFFF;][STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; background-image: url(http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac193/aimeelillian/Bunny/sm006-1.png); border-radius: 5px; border: #2F2F2F solid 10px; margin-top: -10px;] [/style] [STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; background-image: url(http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac193/aimeelillian/Bunny/sm006-1.png); border-radius: 5px; border: #2F2F2F solid 10px; margin-top: 15px;] [/style][STYLE=width: 120px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 11px; color: #737678; padding: 0px 0px 10px 0px; text-align: justify;] █ TAGS open >3 █ WORDS 493 █ NOTES bunny generally tries to seduce people when she's not in contest mode. you have been prewarned. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,background-color: #FFFFFF;][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; color: #B3B7BA; padding: 5px 20px 5px 5px; text-align: right;] made by ayu of btn[/style]

[ROGERSON CUMMINGS]

Rogerson glared down at his beaten notebook, desperately wishing the elaborate sketches and words spoke to him. Those angry, bloodshot eyes of his focused in and out in his pathetic effort to analyze his important research. Between the lines of many tattered, stained pages, worth weeks’ worth of near death maritime experiences, lay the secrets to Sootopolis’s clandestine waters. He wholly invested himself into this research, vaguely recalling whole days spent underwater, swimming along glorious bleached rocks and drowning among vicious deep whirlpools. His effort crashed into nothing and here he was, deluging the prospect of failure away with barrels of beer. Sitting upright even proved a bit of a challenge to him now. Those broad, strong shoulders almost doubled over and he fought to keep himself erect. Regaining his balance, he gazed around this tiny bar, for reasons unclear to his cloudy mind. He vacillated recklessly the reasons he ended up here in the first place. His wet (he couldn’t resist researching today, after all) mane of long blond hair clung to the back of his shirt, whetting that untouched skin beneath. He shook his head disapprovingly as he slammed his raving fist onto his notebook.

Rogerson, such a stupid boy. In all his drunken spirits, he had yet to realize he had not yet met failure. He would realize hours from now, after a powerful hangover, that his research was as valid as it was detailed (and this notebook, chock full of the most specific notes and sketches, promised to be meticulous). Rogerson feared failure. The mere prospect of wasting his time and disappointing his Pokemon sickened him; to fail meant to not care, and Rogerson thoroughly believed one who shouldn’t care shouldn’t be. However, his passion revealed itself through his avid research, and he denied himself the fact that he would change the environment forever, for good, one day. Instead, he sat here a broken boy, an idiot searching for others of his kind. Failures like him manifested in bars, he was sure, failures who also strived for aspirations unfathomable. He knew everyone held lofty ideas of the brightest colors, dreams concentrated into the purest of rainbows; however, one day, everyone’s rainbow would blur into a simple, shit black.


And so he drank another.


And another.


He hated himself for this. He hated himself in general.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been contemplating there when Bunny Moon strolled in. But he knew when she came in. Time seemed to move again and he instinctively tried to make himself somewhat presentable, drunken fingers smoothing back his disheveled wet locks. He stopped, feeling foolish once again; what was this that surged through him, upon seeing this bonny girl? The light that illuminated his drunken, florescent eyes, the blood that rushed to holy areas; what exactly was he feeling? Perhaps the light that stood in the doorway, the beautiful Bunny Moon, was hope. For a few brief seconds, a drunken, happy smile spread across his face with wild, tangential fantasies of how especially lovely it would feel to love someone, despite those horrid, misanthropic tendencies of his. However, his smile faded as he quickly recalled, with an earnest attempt, the history of the gorgeous lady. He despised entertainers, Pokemon coordinators, people who, he fully believed, wasted the valuable resources of Pokemon. Rogerson had never met the beautiful dame, but the fact that he knew her name without knowing her disgusted him. Media was such a terrible thing.

Rogerson cast his tender glance towards Bunny aside, eyes growing cruel once more as he focused on that old notebook. His countenance bore a revolted, growling snarl. In his drunken temper, he snorted at Bunny, a lot more loudly than intended, yet he slapped the seat next to him, motioning for her, motioning for something.[/size]

[BUNNY MOON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #2F2F2F; border-radius: 8px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 30px 0px 0px 10px;][STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 128px; color: #FFFFFF; line-height: 30px; text-transform: uppercase;] W[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #2F2F2F; border-radius: 0px 8px 0px 0px; padding: 30px 5px 10px 0px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 40px; color: #FFFFFF; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -3px; line-height: 28px; margin-left: -4px;]HAT I'VE BEEN LIVING FOR [/style][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 9px; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 0px 15px 0px 15px;]❝ AND NOW YOU'RE KNOCKING ON MY FRONT DOOR, THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN LIVING FOR, EXCUSE ME WHILE I LAUGH MY ASS OFF. ❞ [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,background-color: #FFFFFF;][atrb=vAlign,top] [STYLE=width: 274px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 11px; color: #737678; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; border-bottom: #2F2F2F 8px solid;] █People in bars seemed to hold Bunny's attention more than people on the street, and she still appreciated the pause that people gave her upon her entry. She still appreciated the way they looked at her in awe and fascination. A light in a dingy bar, she loved that look of eagerness before there was anything to be eager about. There was a few men and women whose eyes turned to her as she walked through what she knew was a noisy bar, but the sound of her heels clicking on the floor still seemed to echo as she chose her target, the place for her to sit. Step after step as her eyes wandered over the different people, eyeing them and making certain they were worthy of her time. It was as she was eyeing a rather handsome young man on one side of the bar that another caught her attention. He sat slightly straighter, straightened his hair and just generally seemed like her entrance had meant something. The others watched in desperate hope as she moved, but Bunny had made her decision. Even after the look of shock and appreciation had faded on Rogerson's face, she had known who she was going to sit beside, before he had given her indication to sit down. Her stride was long, the hipsways easily falling in time with whatever rhythm may have formed in the bar. One, two, three, four, five. And then she was there beside him, ignoring the scoff as she slid onto the stool, folding her legs one over the other and leaning against the bar. Almost without fault and with perfect timing, the bartended had come to her, watching her fingers trace circles on the wood of the bar. "Martini, babe. And don't make it a vodka one." Her voice was slow and seductive, never in a hurry was Bunny Moon, and she tilted her head to look directly at Rogerson, attempting to piece together what his tale might be. Blue eyes searched his body, starting from his slightly dishevelled hair, following the paths of his shoulders to his hands. The touch of graphite and pen intrigued her. Something he did involved writing or drawing, but her eyes kept wandering. Sure, he wasn't the finest specimen she had ever seen, but there was something about him that had interested her, and that was something for Bunny to enjoy. She turned merely the upper portion of her body, leaving her crossed legs for eyes around the bar to wander over, and her fingers sought out the glass she knew would be handed to her within moments. Delicately they traced the rim of the glass, before she sat up straighter, arched her back and purred. "Now everyone has a story, and when I walked in it was yours I wanted to read." Her voice was only loud enough to counter the dull roar of the room. She turned to face him, blue eyes locked on his own. "Will you let me?" [/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,background-color: #FFFFFF;][STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; background-image: url(http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac193/aimeelillian/Bunny/sm006-1.png); border-radius: 5px; border: #2F2F2F solid 10px; margin-top: -10px;] [/style] [STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; background-image: url(http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac193/aimeelillian/Bunny/sm006-1.png); border-radius: 5px; border: #2F2F2F solid 10px; margin-top: 15px;] [/style][STYLE=width: 120px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 11px; color: #737678; padding: 0px 0px 10px 0px; text-align: justify;] █ TAGS yo █ WORDS 510 █ NOTES sorry it took so long, I didn't realise it was replied to ^^ [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,background-color: #FFFFFF;][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; color: #B3B7BA; padding: 5px 20px 5px 5px; text-align: right;] made by ayu of btn[/style]

[ROGERSON CUMMINGS]

Rogerson’s senses heightened at the entrance of Bunny Moon, instinctively capturing and recording every delicate piece of information about the beautiful girl that he tangentially collected. Sitting like a dumb fool, not even turning his insolent head to her, his acute (albeit drunken) senses analyzed everything. The crisp click of heels hitting the ground set his insides ablaze. The gentle sway of her hips he caught out the corner of his eye, precipitating him to purge himself of these vulnerable emotions another day. Finally, her voice, that seductive, delicious purr – the sweet tone set his drunken mind reeling back to an older time, a time where he took avid interest in women. Needless to say, this adolescent venture he endured years after he left his home town resulted in nothing but heartbreak and denial. Alone in these confusing conquests, his paranoid mind quickly learned to distrust people in general, especially women, the lying, thieving snakes. However, his lunacy exercised limits. He often appreciated women as beautiful works of art, like the voluptuous, flawless lady seated next to him.

“Sorry baby…there is no story here,” Rogerson deeply replied, his guttural tone surprisingly stable despite the liquor. He downed the rest of that cold, crystal glass before deeply inhaling and closing his eyes. Hardened, golden eyes snapped open to meet the interested gaze of Bunny, before his drunken side revealed, “because at the end of the day, I’m worth nothing but my work, right?” he chuckled in his own mockery. He impetuously punched the notebook before him before twisting his full, livid self towards Bunny. One flexed arm rested atop the crushed notebook, the other at his side. His turned knee invaded Bunny’s space, but he failed to recall it back. He saw it too; he was simply too apathetic to change such a comfortable position. He learned in closer, smiling that twisted, naughty half smile: “…but you’re the star here. Tell me, what brings you to these parts?”

Beverage choice interested the boy far too much. A martini. How many of those he’d imbibed before, how many he’d taken today alone. However, the drink meant something. The choice often described the maker. He began to predict more about her from the simple choice, half-drunk, half truly reasonable. How much he essayed to analyze from a single beverage! After all, she ordered not a simple martini – one without vodka. “She’s soft, seductive…,” that intelligent mind began surmising, the instinctive, comprehensive researcher’s mind breezing away the drunken fog. As a biochemist, years of habit established that he wanted solutions to his hypotheses. His new objective revolved around proving himself, by meeting her.