Post by ry on Jul 20, 2012 6:39:44 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #eeebe3; width: 450px, bTable] [style=background-color: #e0674f; width: 100px; border-right: 4px solid #edd4ca; float: left; padding: 10px; height: 520px; font-family: arial; font-size: 20px; color: #f1efe9; letter-spacing: -1px; ] notes aaah it's unnecessarily long ;A; count 1,012 tags Chizuko~ [/style][style=background-color: #fbfaf8; border-right, border-top, border-bottom: 4px solid #e8e5de; -webkit-border-radius: 2px; font-size:10px; line-height:13px; padding:8px; text-align:justify; color: #6d6d6d; padding: 20px; overflow: auto; text-transform: none; height: 500px; overflow: auto;] Sometimes, Ringo wasn't a jerk. Sometimes he was actually quite nice! Sometimes Ringo stopped emitting sparkles and actually had a bit of a heart and did good things because he just felt like doing them. Ringo was a lot of things sometimes. But something he always is is fabulous, but everyone pretty much knows it. Sometimes when his ego deflated just a bit, he actually thought of other people and not himself. That's why he currently found himself in his mom's studio, looking through her various boxes that contained ribbons. He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, holding a different roll of ribbon up next to the bunny plush he purchased for his friend, trying to decide which to tie around it's neck. "Coral..." He muttered, tossing the roll into the pile he deemed the Not Good Enough for Bunny pile. "Salmon...?" The roll went to the Possibly Good for Bunny pile. "Oh my gosh no. Why did I even grab this?" Ringo chucked a roll of orange and blue striped ribbon across the room, not bothering to check on whatever it had hit because, "wow mom, what were you even thinking on doing with that?" Ringo hummed as he, carefully, put the bunny down to his side and began to gather up the rejected rolls of ribbons and let them call into the box he had located them in. He then picked up the few rolls that, he thought, matched well with the color of the fabric the bunny was made out of, along with the plush itself, and stood up. He pushed the box out of the way with his foot and made his way out of the studio. He poked his head inside his dad's office on the way to his room, and stared at him for a bit before saying, "Fukunawa-chan is coming over." And that was that. His dad rarely said no to him— Ringo is positive he was enrolled into military school to learn discipline but t's not like it had much use— so he was met with no protests or questions whatsoever. Just a brief stare at him and then a smile and nod and his father went back to reading what was probably work related documents. Ringo looked in the mirror beside the stairs and rubbed his face with a free hand. "Ugh," he grumbled, "I need to moisturize tonight." He patted his face and went up the stairs and turned the corner into his room. He set the rolls of ribbons and plush down on his desk and made his way to his closet, which was larger than the actually bedroom part of his room. His room was fairly plain and kept neat and tidy. It wasn't very exciting and it really only consisted of a bed, a desk, a dresser with his TV on top of it and some space to walk around in the middle of all of it. And then there was his closet which is where everything actually looks like it was designed because of Ringo and has colors and compartments and drawers and mirrors and— basically— just looked like it came out of some magazine that specialized in home designs for divas like himself. He never tired of his closet. Whenever he pushed the doors back he instantly brightened. "I'm back," he lightly sang, walking in and grabbing a shirt to pull over his sleeveless undershirt. (Both, of course, being from Burberry's line seeing as seventy-eight percent of his clothes were from the damn place.) "Damn I still look sexy," Ringo pursed his lips at himself in the mirror and posed, blowing himself a kiss before going back into his room and back out into the hall towards the stairs. He really liked it when Chizuko came to visit. He thought she was one of the most adorable little girls he had ever seen and really liked being around her because of that reasons. Sort of like a doll, in a way, as anything cute seemed to suit her and he couldn't exactly picture her in some sort of sexy or mature dress. Chizuko, he always thought, was cute and should dress as such. Besides, sexy dresses belonged to him for his cross-dressing endeavors. Got to show off your artistic talents somehow, and for Ringo, that was make up. "Mama!" Ringo yelled, reaching the bottom of the stairs, "where did you leave the dresses?" "The guest room, hun!" She replied. Ringo gasped, putting his hand over his mouth. "But mama don't tell me you put them in the closet! You didn't, did you? Wrinkles, mother, wrinkles!" "They're on their own rack, son." Ringo let out a sigh of relief and nodded, forgetting she couldn't actually see him, and headed across the parlor room and to another door. They hadn't used their guest room in quite sometime, and because of that, it became a storage of sorts. Clothes that went in often didn't come back out after a day inside. The dresses were hung up right in front of him as he opened the door and felt around for one part of the poles to wheel it out on. (Ringo hates the room because it's so messy.) "Oh man this one is nice... I want to get this altered for myself... But no." He gripped the end of one dress and shook his head. "I mustn't! I am doing this for a young maiden! As a man with such looks surpassing even that of the king, it is only the right thing to do!" Ringo monolouged with perfectly executed, dramatic movements. After the sparkles subsided, he wheeled the rack out and in front of the entrance to the home and unlocked the door, trailing back to the stairs to sit on them and wait in blissful anticipation for his friend to come in. The look on her face when she saw them would be way too much to handle. As a connoisseur of pretty looking things— and ogler of pretty looking people— an moment such as this was making him anxious. [/style] |
[/style]Hanging out with Ringo was like Chizuko hanging around with the older sister that she never had. Some people might call it inappropriate for a freshmen girl to be hanging out one on one with a senior guy; at the very least, it usually raised an eyebrow. But Chizuko wasn’t worried about that kind of thing when she was with him – she wasn’t even sure if he liked girl – but she did know the pair could sit and talk fashion for hours without stopping.