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Post by emerson elizabeth ettridge on Jan 20, 2013 17:35:52 GMT -5
 [style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;] a number of WORDS FOR AceMiaHey. How's it going. Cool. Here's Em's outfit in case you were wondering (you probably weren't) party [/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;] Emerson had been spending her night lazily laying on her bed, scrolling through tumblr and eating some nibbles that she had brought home from her favorite cafe (the one she had met Olliver in). She was also providing an opinion for her new friend/roommate on her outfit for the night. That was the one big difference between the two girls; Emerson was a homebody, and Ace was most definitely not.
Throughout the (what Em that was) too much time that Ace spent working on her outfit, Emerson gave advice like, "No red with blue, you wanna be cute not the Union Jack," and "Comfort over style. I don't want to have to walk around tomorrow getting you everything you want just because you have giant blisters for feet." It was all very "Emerson" advice.
It wasn't until her tall roommate stepped out of the bathroom that she really understood why she had insisted on all of the little things. With her winged eyeliner, red lips, and polka dotted dress, she looked like she had just stepped out of the 50's.
"Well, give us a twirl!" the girl practically demanded of her friend. Em laughed at the little pose she gave her at the end, and gave her two thumbs up.
"Alright, out you pop. And remember, use protection, kick 'em where it counts, and don't die. That's a proper sentiment, right? Don't die? Never mind. I'll just be here with my nibbles and internet."
She laid back down, and proceeded to munch on her garlic bread and chocolate muffin. What? Don't judge, it's a good combination.
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Post by grace camille carson on Jan 20, 2013 19:11:15 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/20gfl1v.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ]who do you think you are  WORDS 545 OUTFIT CLICK TAGGED #emerson #libby Ace wanted to go out tonight. She didn't know why. She just felt like getting out, breathing in the summer night air, and feeling the crisp night air against her skin. So there Ace was. Hands on her hips, standing in front of her closet, pulling out dress after dress and throwing them on her bed. She pulled out some heels, wedges, anything she thought would go with the dresses. She pulled on each at a time, posing in front of the mirror before walking out of the bathroom to show Em.
Ace ran every outfit by Em. She trusted the girl's opinion. She didn't particularly care too much, but she still thought it mattered. Em would see the little things that made the difference. And tonight, for some reason, Ace cared more than usual. Em would give her useful pointers which Ace would take into consideration every time she changed outfits. Ace almost felt bad for the girl, having to look at each outfit. But then again, it wasn't like Ace wasn't pretty; she was pretty damn fine. Besides, the girl was just on tumblr. May as well run it by her roomie.
It was taking a bit, but Ace wanted to look good and feel good. Finally she got to her 50's polka dotted dress. She loved that dress. She put a bow in her hair, which was the inverse of her dress: white bow with red polka dots. She pulled on a pair of white lace heels. She felt fabulous; and she knew she looked fabulous. She never looked anything but fabulous anyway. She quickly pulled out her favorite mascara, let her hair wave out, and rubbed on some red lipstick. She had to admit, she loved it. She literally strutted out of the bathroom. Ace knew she looked great.
"Well, give us a twirl!" Ace laughed and did as she was told. The skirt lifted up just enough - it looked like something from the movies. Just for fun, Ace stopped halfway through her twirl and did the classic Marilyn Monroe pose. Given, her skirt wasn't blowing up like crazy, but it still had the same effect for a short period of time. "Alright, out you pop. And remember, use protection, kick 'em where it counts, and don't die. That's a proper sentiment, right? Don't die? Never mind. I'll just be here with my nibbles and internet." Ace laughed. She was about to leave; but then she got an idea. She turned around in front of the door and said, "Come with me." She almost demanded it.
Ace didn't know why, but she just wanted Em to come. She didn't want to go out alone. She didn't even know where they were going. They were just going to go out, looking great, feeling great, and they were going to love it. It had been a while since she'd had someone to go out with, considering all of her girl friends she would have gone out with were back on Earth. "C'mon gurl. It'll be fun. I'll help you pick an outfit, we're gonna have fun." She put a hand on her hip. "C'mon. A girl's gotta get outta the house sometimes."
a super s-t-a-r? |
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Post by emerson elizabeth ettridge on Jan 28, 2013 13:09:31 GMT -5
[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;] getting real tired of your questioning shit WORDS FOR Ace/MiaHey. How's it going. Cool. Here's Em's outfit in case you forgot (like the forgetful person you are) party [/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;][style=padding: 10px; text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;] Emerson just looked at Ace with and incredulous look, and started to explain why she couldn't go out. "No.. no. That can't happen. I'm not builtslashmeant to go out, I mean.. what if there's people? I'm not good with people! I mean, how does one even people? It's a lot less complicated to internet. And.. and…" she trailed off. "You're going to make me go anyways, aren't you?" She gave a sigh, and closed her laptop. She rolled her head around to where her nibbles were, and gazed longingly at them as Ace started talking excitedly about what a good time they would have, and some other malarky like that. Emerson just set her laptop onto her bedside table, and side-rolled out of bed and onto the floor. "Fine. But you're picking my outfit. I don't really have any idea of what would look good.". She wormed her way over to the bathroom (she literally did not get off of the floor), silently thanking whatever had motivated her to shower earlier that day. She pushed herself up to sit on the counter, and put on some chapstick and mascara. She loosely wrapped her hair into a bun at the back of her head, and made some faces at herself in the mirror. When she was done, she stepped out of the confines of the bathroom to see Ace making her closet into a full out shitstorm. But what could she expect? It was just in her friends tornado-like nature to make sure that everything and every one was up and going and having fun. Emerson just gave up, sat on the bed, and waited for an outfit to be thrusted at her. +++ By the time Em was dressed and out of the bathroom, she had fallen over twice in the heels that Ace had miraculously pulled from her closet. "This is a horrid idea, me in heels." she paused. "And if I fall on my ass and can't walk anymore, you're carrying me home." |
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Post by grace camille carson on Feb 10, 2013 21:55:04 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/20gfl1v.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ]who do you think you are WORDS 439 OUTFIT CLICK TAGGED #emerson #libby Ace just looked over at her roommate expectantly. "No… no," she began, "That can't happen. I'm not builtslashmeant to go out, I mean.. what if there's people? I'm not good with people! I mean, how does one even people? It's a lot less complicated to internet. And.. and…" she took a pause, "You're going to make me go anyways, aren't you?" Ace just put on her stubborn face and nodded. "Yup, you really have no say in the matter. When I said, 'you should come', I was demanding that you were going to come. Simple as that." She smiled, almost sarcastically. Em didn't even try to argue. She just sighed.
"Fine," she gave in. "Yes!" Ace said with a clap. "But you're picking my outfit. I don't really have any idea of what would look good." she said. "Deal." Ace said, clapping again. She made her say over to the girl's closet. She began pulling out dresses, ones that she'd never even sent he girl wear before. After she picked a nice salmon colored one with black lace and a collar. She decided that a pair of black suede heels would go nicely. She watched as Em came out of the bathroom and just sat on her bed. Ace grinned. She wasn't exactly sure if this outfit was the one. She experimented with a few more, even digging through her own closet.
But at the end of it, she decided her salmon dress was the one. Ace turned around and put the dress in Em's lap, and placed the heels on the bed. "Change!" she demanded as she pointed at the bathroom door. She grinned as she watched her friend walk off to the bathroom. She just knew Em was going to look fantastic.
While she waited, she retouched her make up, making sure it was just right. May as well make it perfect if she was going to wait for Em. She was touching up her lipstick when Em came out of the bathroom. She awkwardly hobbled out, trying to adjust to her heels. "This is a horrid idea, me in heels." Ace laughed. She thought that it might've been a slightly bad idea, but she could teach her. "And if I fall on my ass and can't talk anymore, you're carrying me home." Ace laughed again. "Girllll, I can teach you how to walk in those heels," Ace strutted across their dorm floor, "Like this. Heel to toe, heel to toe."
a super s-t-a-r? |
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Post by emerson elizabeth ettridge on Aug 11, 2013 20:45:06 GMT -5
[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;] a number of WORDS FOR AceMiaHey. How's it going. Cool. Here's Em's outfit in case you were wondering (you probably weren't) party [/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]
Ace again at Em's words. "Girllll, I can teach you how to walk in those heels," Ace strutted across their dorm floor,"Like this. Heel to toe, heel to toe."
Emerson just stared incredulously at Ace, and maintained her iron grip on her desk. Just the idea of having to walk around in heels made Em shudder a bit (and, okay, she knew that she was overreacting a tad bit but still, the idea terrified her).
Only after a load of persuasive talk and canoodling on Ace's part, did Emerson try to take a few little tiny baby steps. Following her instructions, Emerson did a little heel-to-toe heel-to-toe action. Amazingly, she managed to look fairly graceful (heh heh, grace-ful).
After about ten minutes of practicing her "strut" (although using that word implied that the person involved in said strut had even a mere ounce of model-esque-ness in them) and banter between the two friends (which was mostly Emerson shrieking slightly as she started to tip and Ace laughing at her and then giving her a hand), Emerson was finally able to walk in a straight line without needing any help.
With that out of the way, she quickly shoved her phone into her bra and followed Ace out of the door (similar to how a lost puppy dog would follow around someone who gave it a scratch).
"So… where are we even going? I mean, I'd assume it'd be a club or something like that and I mean, that might be fun. As long as I'm not drugged and shoved into a bag and carried off to sold into sexual slavery. Unless that doesn't happen here. Are there sex slaves in Dirge?" Emerson directed the question towards Ace, who just stared at her blankly. She nodded her head at that.
"Right. You probably wouldn't know. I mean, of course you wouldn't know. I'll just stop talking now."
Emerson just kept walking with Ace, enjoying the late summer air on her face. It was the time of year when it was just about to transition seasons, so the humidity was down yet the heat stayed up. If Em were being honest with herself, she'd probably have to say that it was her favorite time of year. Well, if she were still alive she would probably be dreading the start of school but now she didn't have to worry about all of the twats. She had Ace and Ollie and Char and Evan and all of these wonderful people who had accepted her and loved her and Emerson suddenly realized that dying was probably the best thing that ever happened to her.
The pounding of heavy bass pulled her out of her deep reverie and her interest was suddenly piqued. I mean, she had never been to an actually proper club before and this could probably be a learning experience.
Or a horrible time that she would regret for the rest of her death.
But, you know, hopefully not that.
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