wake 'n ache [r]

[renton]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style, width: 70px; height: 300px; background-color: #ff6161; padding: 8px;] [classy=notestuff]WORDS[/classy][style=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; color: #4a3d3d; margin-top: 3px;]idk who cares[/style] [classy=notestuff]TAGS[/classy][style=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; color: #4a3d3d; margin-top: 3px;]h!kako[/style] [classy=notestuff]NOTES[/classy][style=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; color: #4a3d3d; margin-top: 3px;]short srry ;v;[/style]

[atrb=style, background-color: #d8dec3; width: 115px; padding: 5px; height: 300px;][atrb=vAlign,top] [classy=iconbro] [/classy][style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 15px; text-align: center; color: #ff6161; border-bottom: 2px solid #ebede2; margin-top: 3px;]SOUR CANDY[/style][style=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 8px; color: #4a3d3d; text-align: justify; margin-top: 2px; text-transform: uppercase; margin-left: 2px; margin-right: 2px;]NO WE WENT UNDER, THE WEIGHT WAS TOO MUCH TO CARRY AND I FELT THE THUNDER, MR. DON'T LOOK SO SCARED. I NEVER KNEW, I NEVER KNEW THAT I COULD BE SO SAD WE WENT UNDER.[/style]

[atrb=style, background-color: #ebede2; padding: 15px; height: 300px; width: 250px;][style=background-color: #ebede2; padding: 5px; height: 280px; overflow: auto; color: #4a3d3d; font-family: tahoma; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px;]The faint chirp of birds could be heard form beyond the window glass. Light found it's way into the small square apartment, arms like tentacles reaching towards the far corners of the room. The room had a stale sort of feeling to it, a very typical 'teenage' image. There was a single coffee table off-center resting among piles of unfolded sweaters, shirts and the like. It seemed that it's purpose was hardly for that of the coffee-serving kind. In fact, the thing was apparently more suited to the job of foot-rest and likely a substitute closet and magazine rack. Empty (and dirty) dishes were scattered and stacked precariously as if in an attempt to create some dystopian city out of old dishware. There was a futon not too far off from the table, crooked with a small body lying atop it's musty surface. The gentle inhale and exhale of Nayuki Fujioka's breath was well audible. Half of her lower body had found it's way out from under her blanket and bent in odd directions across the wood paneled floors. Her short strawberry-blonde hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her pillow had been pulled away from her head and now was clutched under her left arm. The seventeen year old lived alone, yet it was apparent that she had no idea how to properly take care of herself. An empty jug of iced tea stood over a small, red alarm clock which - as if on cue - began it's high pitched shrill. Nayuki refused to budge however, and instead just knitted her eyebrows in aggravation. A low grumble sounded in her throat as she threw her body to it's opposite side. She was now facing the cursed thing; without any hesitation or so much as opening an eye the witch grabbed the thing and chucked it at the nearest wall. It made a loud clattering sound before landing to the ground with a few final squeaks. The room fell silent again and Nayuki exhaled pleasantly. Snuggling closer to the pillow in her arms the petite witch was prepared to float back into dreamland. That was how it was for Nayuki, you couldn't ever get her to shut up, but you also could never get her to wake up when she actually did go to sleep.There were several well-developed prevention devices to Nayuki's personality that would go to every length just to get a few more measly minutes of shut-eye. Regardless of whether there was school or not, which in this case there was, Nayuki would sleep the day away. Just when things seemed in proper order, a few harsh bangs filled the room with new sound. They were followed by a few yelled words but Nayuki was not nearly conscious enough to make out what they were. Nor did she really care. Another audible grumble was made as she lifted the pillow out of her arms and proceeded to bury her face into it - hoping to block out the noise.[/style]

[style=font-family: courier new; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; padding-top: 3px;]TEMPLATE BY JOHN OF OTE & BTN[/style]

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[newclass=iconbro]background: url(http://i45.tinypic.com/4iehyt.png); -webkit-border-radius: 100px; -moz-border-radius: 100px; border-radius: 100px; height: 90px; width: 90px; opacity: 0.7; transition: 0.8s; -webkit-transition: 0.8s; -moz-transition: 0.8s;[/newclass]
[newclass=iconbro:hover]transition: 0.8s; -webkit-transition: 0.8s; -moz-transition: 0.8s; opacity: 1;[/newclass]

[nari]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; padding: 10px;][bg=121212][style=font-family: arial narrow; color: #00BBFF; font-weight: bold; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: -1px; line-height: 16px; padding-left: 5px; border-left: 320px solid #00BBFF;]I WAS HAPPY.[/style] [style=text-align: left; color: #e4e4e4; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 3px; font-family: arial;]AT THE END OF AN IDEA, JUST A MEANINGLESS JOKE.[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #e4e4e4; background-color: #212121; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #222222;] [style=zoom: 1; filter: alpha(opacity=70); opacity: 0.7; margin-right: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/QzNdD.png); float: left;] [/style] "If the key isn't in the pocket,"

[/color] a mental breakthrough, "then it must be in the shoe!"[/color]

6:05 AM, if one felt the sudden urge to climb two staircases up to the third floor (though, who the hell would actually do that so early in the morning?), then there would be no doubt that they would be an audience to a young woman, Mikisaka Haruhi, pulling off both of her shoes (it was a bit of a shame as they were so nice and polished and she was just carelessly tossing them to the ground, jesus). Perhaps she was in search of something. Something small, something that could be held in the palm of her hand—oh! A keyblade. Even if it was rather odd for anyone to be up so early taking a key out of their shoe, maybe she had just decided to go to school early? For some reason, Hikako could have been in a hurry and had forgotten something inside of her room or in the kitchen.

Yes, that would make sense.

Except there was something wrong with that line of thought. Sure, that would all seem nice and reasonable, but she wasn't even in front of her own apartment. Most of the other tenants knew that the Mikisaka family lived on the first floor—and that was only because they could hear the three women yelling at someone, supposedly male, late at night. Which was rather odd in the first place, since no one with anything resembling male genitalia lived with them.

6:08 AM, picking up the key that had dropped from her shoes earlier, the dark-haired girl smiled in satisfaction. If she had forgotten it like last time, then it was all too likely that she'd have to break into Nayuki's apartment through the window again. And that was usually more trouble than it was really worth. Making sure to make as little noise as possible, Hikako entered her neighbor's apartment. As per usual, the entire place was a complete mess. It was mildly irritating, because she couldn't even count how many times she had tried to clean everything—only for everything to go back to its usual disorganized state the next day.

"...at least she's been using febreeze,"[/color] Hikako mumbled to herself, tiptoeing into the kitchen.

6:11 AM, the kitchen was, of course, the uncleanliest place. Drawers were half-opened and utensils were strewn all over. Don't even talk about the sink, because that was probably where Satan would next find himself rising from the depths of hell. Grimacing at the fugly sight, Hikako took out a package of waffles (if you're curious, it was the new brand Deli-Waffle-Cious!), setting it on the kitchen counter. It would have been nice if she could, you know, actually make breakfast for Nayuki, but it wasn't as if Hikako had any idea how to. Did you use a frying pan for that stuff? Or was that only for pancakes?

Either way, the only things she knew how to use were the microwave and the toaster. Hikako was rather fond of the toaster especially, having gotten into the habit of giving it petnames ("Thanotoast", "Toasterus", or simply just "Toasty"). Deciding that the aforementioned toaster was the only way to go in warming waffles, Hikako began dumping anything that didn't look like a toaster onto the ground beside what looked like a trash can, but may as well have been a bucket of shit.

6:20 AM, standing next to the pile of loin cloths, wands, and several boxes of jujubes, the expression on the girl's face could only be described as "seriously displeased" (in other words, B| ). Inching towards Nayuki's room, Hikako opened the door wide enough that she could slip her entire head through.

"Yo,"[/color] she began, "do you know where the toaster—?"[/color] Before finishing her question, Hikako stopped herself, noticing something important. Nayuki was definitely, positively, absolutely asleep. As cute as the sight was, the teenager could only frown. Even if she did wake her senpai up, there would be no way she'd get a coherent answer. Eyes lowering in disappointment, Hikako quietly closed the door and returned to the now less busy-looking kitchen (as everything had been placed next to the bucket of shit).

Finally, she faced the microwave (it was kind of attached to the wall, so there was really no way to lose the thing) and pursed her lips. In Hikako's history of microwave interaction, only a few could be named pleasant. There were events involving finger smashing and head bumping—really, microwaves were kind of a natural enemy to her.

Slowly, Hikako warned the microwave, "If I'm going to use you, we need to have a mutual understanding that trying to kill me is not alright and is punishable by law. You understand, right? The slaughter of innocent people can get you arrested and charged with first degree murder and you will spend the rest of your life in prison. Got it?"[/color] The microwave failed to answer. Hikako smacked it's door a bit, hoping to illicit some sort of reaction, but nothing happened. Frowning deeply, Hikako inhaled and exhaled, counted to ten, and went to the sink to splash water on her face. The microwave could almost rile her up as much as the bananas.

6:31 AM, having taken the waffles out, she returned to her place in front of the microwave. Geez, just the sight of it made her blood boil. In order to remedy that problem, Hikako closed her eyes and opened the microwave door, tossing the waffles in right after. The only problem she might have had a bit of a problem with was the number pad. Technically, looking at the number pad was the same as looking at the microwave and Hikako just really couldn't do that right then. After listening to the beeps her fingers made, Hikako swiveled around to face the other way and opened her eyes.

Since her work was done, Hikako decided that it'd be nice to catch a few zzzs herself and, thus, dumped herself onto the couch as soon as she was in what might have been the living room. Like hell, she could tell these things apart—not with everything being everywhere.

Unbeknownst to her, Hikako really shouldn't have closed her eyes during the whole microwave ordeal. The numbers blinking on the machine were 29:56.
[style=color: #00BBFF; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 1px; background-color: #121212; padding: 2px;]TAGGING: NAYUKI | WORDS: 1057 | NOTES: BLARGH I WAKE UP IN THE AFTERNOON FEELIN' LIKE PIDGEY[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table] [style=font-size: 10px; font-family: georiga; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px;]TEMPLATE BY SAMARECARM OF OTE + BTN[/style][/center]