That's where the whiskey comes in //brucey<3

[NOLAN CLARKE HEALY]

[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(https://encrypted-tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRsjPaLJbIXXjhCcvhO9AsgCoeXyLgdTzYF6GxKySXsitAOy_Zg); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(https://encrypted-tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRsjPaLJbIXXjhCcvhO9AsgCoeXyLgdTzYF6GxKySXsitAOy_Zg); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— give in,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]to temptation that keeps following you tonight obey the shadows cry[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: trebuchet ms; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]Nolan walked, and walked, and walked. He couldn't stop walking. True, he shouldn't stop walking, seeing as he had lost his phone for the umpteenth time that week and he was retracing his steps in hopes that he could find it. Sighing, Nolan watched his feet as they rythmically hit the ground, trying to catch sight of his phone. He frowned as he tried to remember the last place where he had seen it, coming to the conclusion that he probably needed to pay more attention seeing as he had no idea where he had last set it down. Maybe he had left it in the math classroom? Or under his bench in drama? He shook his head in mock disappointment at himself, chuckling as he stretched out his arms and continued walking through school; trying to keep his feet in a straight line. He didn't realize the moment he lost sight of his goal as he automatically retraced the steps he gave every morning as he walked around in a hazy, school-induced stupor. He closed his eyes as he continued his funny, balance walk with his arms outstretched; he didn't notice the funny looks people sent him, or the curious whispers that followed his path. He didn't want to notice, and he'd become pretty good at ignoring things he didn't want to know about. Like Jason. Nolan's eyes opened suddenly as they flashed with poorly concealed pain and rejection in their depths before he closed them again, trying to hide his emotions from the cruel world that waited on the other side of his eyelids for a moment of weakness (his or otherwise) to attack. Nolan was too far lost in his thoughts to realize that maybe walking through a school full of teenagers with his eyes closed wasn't the best idea. Lost in a timeless trance of miserableness and torture, of dreams and hopes that had once been alive and were now crushed, of anger and repentance; it was as if he had floated away from his body and was only a soul walking through the halls of a strange limbo state; lost in a cold maze of tiles and lockers until he found the way out into heaven or hell. He was bumped back into his mortal, physical body by another one of the same type. His eyes opened and he gave a startled yelp, his bag falling from his shoulder and his heart pounding erratically in his chest. It wasn't the fact that Nolan was scared that the person might punch him out because of this random bump-in (he'd endured much of that in Ireland and hadn't lost his touch for cowering expertly), it was more of the fact that Nolan was startled to discover he was still on Earth. He felt as though he had almost managed to become an ethereal being in those seconds of rare quiet and loneliness he managed to find in school, and being brought down so rashly from such an experience was not unlike finding out you'd just sold your soul to the devil in a moment of impulse. His voice choked in his throat, unable to find its way out to apologize for having bumped into this person in such a manner. In his brain, his thoughts couldn't take on a specific form and in this trance-like state; Nolan found himself being shouted at in a voice that, even though he'd never heard it before, sounded strangely familiar. [/style]

[STYLE=font-variant: small-caps; letter-spacing: 2px;]template by falkyrin of btn ![/style]

[bruce ryan mckaye]

& & h e r e ' s t o n e w m o r n i n g s,

to new evenings, pack your bags babe & we are leaving.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] EVERYBODY'S DOING IT

[atrb=width,240] Back to this hellhole; Bruce felt like he was stuck in perdition, crawling around and trying to find some place where he could just rest for a moment. Manchester was a bloody pit, and everywhere he went in the school, the fires licked at his ankles. He could see it in the eyes of each and every teenager that happened to look his way, their unwavering loyalty or their adoration, the way they followed the royals like they were just that. It disgusted him, how they could be herded into something without good reason. What on earth had Desiree done to deserve such unbridled loyalty? Bruce grit his teeth, his jaw poking out briefly with the force of the bite. He could feel his eyebrows knit together over his green eyes, deep and furrowed and angry. No one really bothered him, which was always a plus, but just looking at them was enough to set him off. They didn't even need to speak to him, or walk up to him, they pissed him off by just existing. God help them if one tried to actually strike up a conversation, eh? He almost snorted to himself as he walked along the hall, not entirely sure he wanted to attend his next class. Where was his motivation, after all? English was boring, he didn't want to go learn where to put a comma in a sentence like he'd never studied it before in his life. It was the same bloody thing, over and over again, year after year, as if everyone was just as dumb as the sheep they pretended to be. Maybe they were. Bruce didn't see any point to relearn noun and pronoun agreement or MLA format or any of that other shit. Maybe he would just skip, and they'd call his parents and say, 'Mr. or Mrs. McKaye, this is Deborah from Manchester Preparatory, calling to inform you that your son Bruce was not in his third period today; was he ill?' and it would be his mother who answered because his father was always at work, and she would say, 'Bruce? There's no Bruce here, I don't have a son named Bruce,' because she had conveniently forgotten about Liam and himself the day the doctor called and said Aislynn had a heart condition. His brows wove tighter and his jaw clenched tighter, to the point where people physically looked away from him as he passed them. He was a bit notorious, amongst some; there were stories at least that went around and his temper seemed to precede him. That and the fact that his mouth would easily make any sailor keel over from embarrassment. He as fairly sure he was the titleholder of at least sixteen original swear words that he had created in the last month alone, let alone in his seventeen years of living. He raised a hand up and ran his long fingers through the thick tangle of dark curls as he walked, letting the thin digits tighten around them. He scrunched up his nose and sniffed when he finally let his arm fall limply to his side, those same fingers digging into the pockets of his trousers. Fuck his mother. And his father. Fuck both of them; his mother for not caring and his father for slaving away to pay for a sick child. Fuck his brother Liam for being old enough to escape them. Fuck Aislynn for existing. Fuck them all. Fuck his English teacher for droning on about the same useless crap all the days of her life. And this state and this school and him moving away from Ireland. His green eyes narrowed to a point, into one of those fixed furies that kept people, usually, far away from him. Bruce enjoyed the luxury of being able to storm down a hallway like a hurricane and not have anyone get in his way. It was, he imagined, perhaps almost what Desiree felt. Except the only people who genuinely feared him were the mousy lot who ducked into bathrooms when he passed or tried to blend into their lockers. Fuck them too. Bruce rounded a corner and slammed into a body, corporeal and solid. He paused and bounced back a moment, taking a short stride on his long legs and letting his upper body curl forward, arms bent slightly at the elbow and fists instantly balled. Just what he needed, right? Blow off a little steam. His mouth was off before his mind had even generated a logical response, his voice loud and his accent slurring his words into a singular, enraged word. "Oi! Where the fuck do you think you're going you fucking twat?" The emerald eyes focused down at the blue eyed boy before him, cowering and choking on his tongue like it had suddenly appeared in his mouth. It only seemed to infuriate him more, the way he stumbled over himself, obviously incoherent from the collision. "All you fucking sheep need to watch where you're bloody walking." He spat angrily, his fists still balled but stationary, evident that he wasn't about to swing them, yet, although his body remained mildly coiled to do so. Bruce's upper lip curled back over his front teeth in a snarl of an expression, and his teeth gnashed together when he had finished speaking. Manchester liked to breed their students blind, it seemed. It wasn't the second time he'd been run into, the first was by a girl, and now this bloke? It was getting old, really fucking old, and he needed a smoke and he needed out of this inferno.

[atrb=width,100] words , llamas tagged , maria & nolan notes , let me goooo boys let me goooo boys, let me go down in the muddddd, where the rivers all run dryyyy~

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[NOLAN CLARKE HEALY]

[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(https://encrypted-tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRsjPaLJbIXXjhCcvhO9AsgCoeXyLgdTzYF6GxKySXsitAOy_Zg); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(https://encrypted-tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRsjPaLJbIXXjhCcvhO9AsgCoeXyLgdTzYF6GxKySXsitAOy_Zg); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— give in,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]to temptation that keeps following you tonight obey the shadows cry[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: trebuchet ms; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]It didn't take long for Nolan to come completely back to his senses, especially after being called a... sheep? Was that supposed to be an insult? A ghost of a frown flew across his boyish features before a cute, impish grin took over his face. "If I'm going to be insulted by being called an animal, I'd rather it be something scary or disgusting... Sorta like a boar, yeah? Thank you." He didn't consciously notice his Irish accent thickening with amusement and at having heard another voice speaking in a similar accent. His friends had always told him that they couldn't understand a thing of what he was saying when he spoke with his siblings because they started speaking rapid "Irish" that was hard to decipher unless you had a lot of practice. Chuckling quietly, in a way that sent spasms all over his body, he looked down and shook his head with a comforting amusement that he hadn't felt in a while. "Seriously mate, calm down. We ran into each other, yeh, I get how that can annoy you but... It's not such a big deal yeh? Calm down!" He smiled at the guy, unfurling himself to come to his usually unexpected height of six feet (it certainly clashed with his cute and childish face didn't it?); surprised when his nose seemed to align almost perfectly with the guys' who was standing in front of him. He raised a hand to pat the guy's shoulder in a comforting way before kneeling to pick up his bag and all the things that had fallen out of it in the bump. If he'd still been in Ireland, he wouldn't have thought twice about running away from such an angry boy with his fists bunched up, looking ready to punch him. But he HAD grown quite a bit, not just physically but mentally too. Even though he was still a coward, he was finding it easier to find courage inside himself to stand up for what he believed in, and he couldn't help but feel immensely proud of himself at having been able to tell the guy to calm down without stuttering. A small smile graced his lips as he thought about how he'd get home and tell Cat and Beac how he'd actually managed to stop someone from walking all over him for once. He imagined his sister's proud face and how she'd squeal and hug him and probably make some comment about how 'her itty bitty Nowey was gwowin up', offering him a small piece of chocolate as a peace offering for the fight that small comment was sure to start. He imagined his brother's shy smile, the pride brimming from his eyes as he processed the fact that maybe ONE of the Healy brothers was kind of growing a backbone. Ever since Jason and him had broken up, Nolan felt as if maybe he wasn't worth something more than just a failed relationship because he hadn't managed to convince his partner of his fidelity. Now, even the stupidest things convinced him that maybe... He was and that gave him more hope that he'd be able to get up from this rut than anything else. He looked up again, surprised to see the guy still standing there staring at him. He felt his stomach give way to a horrible lurching feeling inside of him that he recognized as fear and panic from his earlier high school years. He gulped noisily, not sure how to approach the boy that seemed perfectly willing and capable to punch Nolan's nose off his face for trying to get him to calm down. Clinging on to the rapidly fleeing bits of courage he had flowing through his veins, he found his voice and pushed out a sentence, grateful that his voice didn't waver (although it did sound oddly strained). "Can I help you? Still kneeling on the ground, Nolan tilted his chin challengingly, not willing to let himself be beaten up without a bit of dignity in his manner. He sat up on his heels, eyes connecting with the other boy's as he waited for the first blow to make contact with his cheek and break open his skin. He waited for the blood that he would undoubtedly shed once more, not caring enough to stop it from happening. He knew from experience that it wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried. And tried he had. [/style]

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