closest thing to a day off ( caelius )

[BROOKS, LEON]

[atrb=cellpadding, 0, true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 300px; height: 300px; background-image: url(http://subtlepatterns.subtlepatterns.netdna-cdn.com/patterns/tiny_grid.png);][STYLE=background-color: #DFE0C8; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12px; text-align: center; padding: 5 10 5 10; line-height: 8px; margin-top: 10px; color: #000000; opacity: 0.6;]313 + caelius galen + tv is too distracting orz"[/style][STYLE=margin: 10px; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; text-align: justify;]The morning was a very routine time of day. Five-thirty am, wake up. Shower, dress, hair and teeth. Make a cup of a coffee. Six-thirty am, wake up Willow. Get her dressed, share breakfast (with whomever else in the house who might be awake at that early hour), make sure her bag is packed. Seven-thirty, drive her to school. Seven fifty, return home. From there, things tended to vary day by day. Usually, he checked his e-mail, did a run-over of his work from home business, etcetra. If there were other residents, they'd trickle downstairs. They needed to be fed, of course. And when all else failed, there were chores and household tasks: laundry, shopping, dishes, cleaning. There was always something to do. Today, however, seemed to be a rare exception. Eight o'clock found Leon returning home, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his blue jacket. There was no reason to check his consultation firm today; it was some sort of minor holiday or another, one of the kinds that didn't cancel school but closed most businesses. Leon didn't officially close his down, but his contacts were always much slower on days like these. On top of that, his house was nearly empty, and that cut down on chores. Constant work was something of a norm in the man's life. What was he to do without it? Silence hadn't bode well for Leon in years. A lack of things to occupy his mind with led to darker thoughts. Lonely ones. They were fickle little things that he kept to his bedroom because outside of his sanctuary it was easy to keep himself busy. Now, however, they tugged harder than usual at the edges of his consciousness. With a sigh, the blonde made his way to the living room and sat heavily in the chair. What did people do on their 'days off'? [/style]

[atrb=style,width: 120px; height: 300px; background-color: #A6C6FF; vertical-align: top;][STYLE=height: 100px; width: 100px; border-radius: 50px; background-image: url(http://i45.tinypic.com/df98ab.jpg); margin: 10px;][/style][STYLE=margin: 10 10 0 10; border-bottom: 5px solid #DFE0C8; border-top: 5px solid #DFE0C8; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 15px; line-height: 10px; padding: 5 0 5 0; text-align: right; vertical-align: middle; color: #000000;]Come on now try and understand The way I feel when I'm in your hands [/style]

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[galen, caelius]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, width:500px;,bTable] [classy=icon][/classy][classy=header]DIFFICULT TAKES A DAY, IMPOSSIBLE TAKES A WEEK[/classy] [classy=notes]{ TAGS • Leon Brooks NOTES • omg finally }[/classy] [classy=text]Lounging in the physical lethargy that became him was in essence an art form, a brilliant manifestation of sloth-like gestures composing of firstly cracking one eye open and then willing the other to follow suit. In fact, mornings had always been a test of sheer willpower; herding and thereby harnessing such drive to rise from the warmth of his sheets almost never struck before lunchtime. It was however gracious enough to make an exception; for this morning had the free shifter's feet on the floor and a haggard groan off-setting his dismay at about a quarter after. His body had successfully shrugged itself into a lavender pull-over while his lower half seemed less concerned about being unnecessarily sordid in a simple pair of boxer shorts. Despite his cozy repose, fingers snatched up an itch further inciting his bedhead as heels slapped against the hardwood that migrated into the kitchen and by extension, what Caelius assumed was the common room. As bare feet ate up the distance between he and destination, the young man deadpanned before freezing mid-step in self conference. Breakfast was in order. Caelius could play the pillager well, but if perchance, nothing of value satiated the owly reproach of his abdomen after reevaluating the fridge and cupboard stock for the third instance; he still couldn't go without. And so, he had arrested a slice of lukewarm toast and a half-cup of mostly fresh milk gnawing the crusts off the ends while a vivid box sat sedentary against the corner counter top. Seemingly, mornings always did him in hastily and thoughts often predisposed to dozy ramblings turned sensible with the initial sign of sugar through his system; powering on to the mere hum it manufactured. Ultimately, he'd seized the box with nothing but the novel intent of lulling his sense of inquiry; however, as he maneuvered the cereal in hand Caelius' line of sight came level with the label which read, 'Cotton Candy Crunch'. This was a godsend. Tracking a bowl and complimenting spoon, Caelius became quite the contented culprit pilfering children's cereal sluicing the remainder of the milk in the glass to douse the marshmallows. Beaming, ambition overrode his feel-good mentality as the shifter assumed a lotus position opposite the chair in use by his blond benefactor. The idle chatter of the cutlery suspended from his mouth echoed the tone he'd picked up while making tracks for the couch, "Morning.~ Would you mind getting another box of this stuff?" He pronounced the tail end of his question by hefting the confectionery breakfast in hand and, grimacing impishly; his inner child knelt in worship. [/classy]

[newclass=icon]float:left; height:100px; width:100px; border: solid 10px 393939; -webkit-border-radius: 12px; -moz-border-radius: 12px; border-radius: 12px;[/newclass][newclass=header]width:350px; float:left; font-size:42px; color:393939; font-family:georgia; font-weight:600; letter-spacing:-7; line-height:30px; margin-left:-5px; margin-top:10px;[/newclass][newclass=notes]width:350px; float:left; font-size:12px; color:393939; font-family:georgia; font-weight:600; letter-spacing:-1;[/newclass][newclass=text]width:400px; float:left; font-size:10px; font-family:arial; letter-spacing:1; line-height:12px; padding:15px; text-align: justify; border-bottom: solid 20px 393939;width: -webkit-border-radius: 12px; -moz-border-radius: 12px; border-radius: 12px;[/newclass]

[BROOKS, LEON]

[atrb=cellpadding, 0, true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 300px; height: 300px; background-image: url(http://subtlepatterns.subtlepatterns.netdna-cdn.com/patterns/tiny_grid.png);][STYLE=background-color: #DFE0C8; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12px; text-align: center; padding: 5 10 5 10; line-height: 8px; margin-top: 10px; color: #000000; opacity: 0.6;]649 + caelius galen + holy crap that's long when did that happen[/style][STYLE=margin: 10px; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; text-align: justify;]To turn on the television, or not to turn on the television? The pressing silence wasn't something to be reckoned with, and the blond found himself reaching for the remote. Might as well watch a bit of news, get a handle on the day. There was a faint click before the screen flicked to life; leave it to Willow to sneak in a half-hour of cartoons last night, he thought to himself as he changed channels from kids' morning programming to the local news. He was just in time to watch the anchors direct their cameras over to the meteorologist. Sunny day, it seemed, if a little breezy. There wouldn't be very many nice days before the colder climate settled in for winter. Maybe he should try to find something to do outside? Those were the thoughts buzzing in his head when he heard he soft pad of feet on hardwood floor. Leon glanced over -- almost behind him, from the angle of the chair -- and caught just a glimpse of the figure before it disappeared into the kitchen. It appeared that the other body in the house had awoken. Knowing nothing of the new residents habits, preferences, or sleep cycle, he'd had the courtesy not to quite put away everything from breakfast. For today, the younger man could lay claim to whatever he wanted, and then Leon would try to pick up something more preferable for the days after that (depending on how long the shifter planned to stay, of course). With the sounds of pillage dancing around a room away, the blond turned his attention back to the news. They'd since moved on from the weather to news bulletins. A fire on the north side of the Lower Banks, a posting for a runaway slave, extensive coverage on the Octoberfest that had started up just a couple of days ago. He should get to that, he mused; it would be the perfect place to take his daughter, and get them both out of the house and doing something together. Something he'd have to run by her that afternoon, he decided. Maybe his newest house guest would be interested, as well? Some shifters were more crowd-wary than others, he knew, and he supposed that Caelius could fall anywhere on that spectrum. And speak of the devil. As aware as Leon always managed to be, he was able to, from the back of his mind, register the earlier padding that indicated the approaching body. A moment later, Caelius was sitting himself in a comfortable view on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand. Willow's choice cereal, he noted. Not that he minded particularly, because he knew enough to always be decently stocked with the stuff. Courtesy brought him to turn the volume on the television down a few notches -- not that it had been very loud in the first place -- and nodded lightly in greeting. "Good morning." The question made a soft smile play at his lips. "Don't worry about that, there's plenty more in the pantry. 'Cotton Candy Crunch' is Willow's favorite cereal." As he spoke, he allowed himself a mental examination of the other man. He was rather mysterious, in all honesty, though that wasn't exactly unheard of among the shifters that walked across his threshold. But somehow, there was something a little different about this one that Leon couldn't quite put his finger on. Ah, well. He'd barely had any time to get to know him yet, either. That was usually something that came in good time, granted that the guest allowed him long enough to pull through. For now, Leon wanted to lay out a couple of purely 'professional' things before he could be distracted. "If there's any other food you want that I'm low on or don't have, just speak up. I'll see what I can do about keeping things stocked." [/style]

[atrb=style,width: 120px; height: 300px; background-color: #A6C6FF; vertical-align: top;][STYLE=height: 100px; width: 100px; border-radius: 50px; background-image: url(http://i45.tinypic.com/df98ab.jpg); margin: 10px;][/style][STYLE=margin: 10 10 0 10; border-bottom: 5px solid #DFE0C8; border-top: 5px solid #DFE0C8; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 15px; line-height: 10px; padding: 5 0 5 0; text-align: right; vertical-align: middle; color: #000000;]Come on now try and understand The way I feel when I'm in your hands [/style]

[atrb=style,width: 10px; height: 300px; background-image: url(http://subtlepatterns.subtlepatterns.netdna-cdn.com/patterns/tiny_grid.png);]

[STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #999999; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]