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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 4, 2012 0:11:45 GMT -5
 THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP The club smelled like sweat and strong alcohol. It reminded Rambo of his father's dogfights, the snarling of the pitties and cheers of the crowd replaced by some kind of dirty dubstep remix with a heavy drop that cut in every few minutes. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a skull in a suit on the front, and the white of the vinyl design was doing things to his eyes, making him feel like he had something on his face. He ran a hand down over his brows, quick and jerky...he'd already snorted some blow and could feel the high running through his veins, liquid fire that made him hold his head just that little bit higher. He'd remembered to bring his ID before he'd done any drugs but he was so used to the sensation that he honestly doubted it would cause him any trouble to reverse the order. The ID was fake, of course...Rambo honestly had no idea how the bouncer could be so stupid. But he'd had the card since last year, had it made by a friend back home before he came to school. Back in Chalmette he'd been the one to throw the parties, or at least go to them, so identification wasn't necessary. But this was a fucking boarding school, and he wasn't stupid enough to think they wouldn't card him here.
The baseline dropped suddenly and so did the crowd, girls grinding on boys and handfuls of little white pills brilliant as they were passed around. The strobe went on a second later and Rambo grinned at the freeze-frame sensation, eyes dilated and just a little bit wild. He hadn't come with anybody but it was the first week back in school...he'd catch someone he knew and go clubbing with them, just to catch up. He melted into the mass of writhing bodies and, just like everybody else, he disappeared. The music whirred at him, enticingly loud, shoulders up against his, backs pressing his front. Arousal flickered to life in his hindbrain...maybe he wouldn't go clubbing. Maybe he'd just get laid. His eyes got a bit sharper at that thought and he wove through the crowd to the bar, grabbing two beers from the bartender (who carded him, as much good as that did) before finding himself a girl to dance with.
She was a couple of inches shorter than him, with white-blond hair and flimsy, expensive-looking clothing. It was her eye makeup that had caught his attention, a deep black against pale white skin that fluttered when she blinked. Rambo put a hand on her shoulder and held out the beer, grinning in a 'let's party' kind of way, eyes wide and cocaine use apparent. He was clearly giving her a drink for a reason but he had just gotten away from home and he didn't give a flying fuck how obvious he was being. Hopefully she was as slutty as she looked because frankly, he wanted to let himself go tonight without too much trouble. It wasn't like it would be hard for him to find a girl in here, but she was his first choice...it would make his night to have her go down on him, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 4, 2012 19:07:05 GMT -5
 Dancing, Altair felt like a bundle of nerves, a collection of synapses working together so that she only felt. Didn't see, didn't taste, just frighteningly aware of the bodies around her, of the bass pumping up through her heels, vibrating through her bones. What song was it? She couldn't hear anything over her high. She'd gotten a tenner from her friend, her old dealer from before she'd kicked the Vicodin addiction. But she was doing a wonderful job at replacing it. Her blouse hung loose from her body, jeans gripping at her legs. And she knew she looked beautiful, because she always looked beautiful. It was in the contract--she needed to stay that way or her ass would be out of a job. It was certainly more intensive than before, when all she had to do was show up and not mouth off at the boss. There was a lot more at stake now.
The lights reminded her of the catwalk she used to strut, the glory days before her fall. She and her sisters were top of their game in Great Britain, and that had crumbled away so quickly. The decay even followed them to Canada. And here was Altair, her hips swaying, moving, riding a high that killed her sister. She should have known better. Shouldn't she? The Fire leader never thought about those kinds of pointless things, not when she was feeling her heart skip beats with the bass line. She didn't even notice the boy until he approached her, until he held out a beer. Her vivid blue eyes met his green ones, and they were instantly scanning and searching for something. She couldn't decide on his age, he was taller than her, but he was cute in the way that she wanted to corrupt.
Altair accepted the drink, and it was like a mating ritual, a penguin offering his mate a pebble. But it was much less romantic than that, because she could see again and all she wanted to know was how quickly she can get him out his clothes. In the spirit of conquest, she turned pressed her body up against his, curves conforming to his own. She knew how to seduce with her body, it was what she did with her living, and she could do it while holding a beer in her fingers and completely trashed. The guy looked out of his mind too, judging by the look of his eyes, but she didn't care. Her primal instincts overwhelmed anything else, making sure that he felt her curves and how much better it would feel were they not covered by clothes.
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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 4, 2012 19:59:45 GMT -5
THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP Rambo's grin got bigger when she accepted the drink and moved closer, her breasts pressing warmly against his chest as she held the beer away from her blouse. He admired her cleavage generously for a moment before glancing up at her eyes, wide with arousal and strobe, and pressed forward with his hips as he downed another third of his beer. He still had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he leaned down to kiss her, her lips glossy in the light and just a little bit darker than he expected they were in any regular light. Merde, but he wanted this! His mind jumped erratically to his sister, worrying out of habit that she'd followed him here and was looking for him, would catch him doing this, before he realized that he wasn't in Chalmette anymore. The thought encouraged his reckless abandon and he dropped his beer can - and whatever remained of the drink - on the floor, hands reaching haphazardly for the back of the girl's head, pressing gently at the crook of her neck to deepen the kiss. His other hand went to her hip but stayed there; he wasn't sure how fast she wanted to go, not yet.
The song wound down with a mechanical rumble and Rambo pulled out of the kiss, though his hand didn't leave the teet chèr's neck, his nose just far away from hers not to make contact. "We can get out o' here, oui?" he asked in a loud voice, not quite yelling but not quite his normal tone, either. The next song was already revving up, some Texian raising her voice before the drop came, and while Rambo might have been happy to stay here before, now he'd literally had a taste of what he'd be missing if she walked away now. He didn't think she would; she'd looked more than half gone not a minute ago, but, well...she was a woman. Sometimes they thought things about his motives that were much more flattering than the truth, and there was no going back on a girl who didn't like being any man's bonne a rienne, even for a night and despite all compliments. Still, she seemed a lot more casual than all that and completely confident in what he was asking her for. He'd never asked a girl to sleep with him in such a short amount of time, but if she was ready to go, then so was he.
OOC: I dunno about you, but I'm good if you want to black out when they leave the club and pick up again when they run into each other again at the Academy. I wasn't expecting it to go so quick, but Rambo's got a mind of his own XD TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 4, 2012 21:38:26 GMT -5
He obviously moved fast, and she didn't mind one bit. Sometimes she liked the game, other times she wanted to cut straight to the chase. This was a case of the latter. She returned the kiss, moving a hand to his hair, feeling more than seeing again. Her eyes closed, she momentarily forgot where she was, that they were in a club and there were other people. Fuck them, she didn't want other people at this moment. Feeling his hand at her hip, the other pulling her in closer by the neck, she let her tongue explore, tasting him and everything he had to offer. She wanted to make it very clear that she didn't play games either. What Altair wanted, she got, and she would make sure to get this complete stranger. In her pants. Did he even speak yet? No, but that simply went unnoticed by the baked blond as she pressed every inch of her body against him.
He pulled away, and her blue gaze was slightly hazy. A smirk formed over her lips, curling them when she said, "I fancy that idea," she replied, her voice loud as well to be heard over the moment, but affected by a purr-like tone. In the back of her mind she acknowledged that he had an accent, but she couldn't put too much thought toward it at this point. There wasn't much thinking going on, because now she was leading him by the hand, out of the club, knowing exactly where they could go. In her old business she had to work wherever she could, but she wasn't fond of the streets. Inns worked just as well, and hell, she had money to pay for one that was completely fucked. Not that she would have minded, at this point. She was too far gone for caring about anything.
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The night settled in with the mystic haze of many other drunken nights. Sitting in the mess hall, it was a very different scene from the club. She walked with a tray in hand, but before she reached her usual table with her Fire buddies, she noted that a curly head of hair looked familiar. It clicked after a moment, and she could only hope she was right. Because this guy was surrounded by Waters who were familiar to her. "Shoulda guessed you were a Water by the lame fuck," she sneered. Completely sober, she was very much less friendly. Especially with Waters. Still dressed nice, though. "Still doped up or are you completely brain dead now from the drugs?" It wasn't a sincere question, these were fighting words. She didn't know whether she was more pissed off at him or herself.
[our babies move fast. *sigh* xD hope it's all right. <3]
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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 6, 2012 1:21:55 GMT -5
THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP She was clearly ready to go; it made Rambo smile, to be led out of a club by a willing female not fifteen minutes after he'd gone inside. It was something to be proud of. Not that anyone would have cared if they'd done it in some deserted corner of the dance floor, or in one of the bathrooms, least of all him. The shadows would have hid little but the drugs and the lights would have done the rest. It wasn't anything the customers in that place hadn't seen before anyway, if Rambo was any judge. That's why he'd chosen to go inside in the first place. He didn't do things half-assed if he wanted them done and sex was far from an exception. As she sloped down the street outside the club he twitched after her, close by her shoulder but not touching her intimately. He felt like he was some kind of living electric current, had a high-voltage wire threaded through his core. He swore he could hear the electrons spiking in his brain whenever he caught a whiff of her perfume. She turned maybe two corners and he knew where they were going before they'd gotten halfway down the street. It wasn't going to be anything fancy, but he'd been thinking about fucking her in a public restroom; 'fancy' wasn't the operative word here.
He was kissing her before they'd gone up the stairs.
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Rambo was in high spirits the next day. He'd woken up from a well-needed night with a jolie, jolie catin that he'd never have to see again, gotten dressed as quietly as he could and left at around nine in the morning, of all things. She wouldn't know the difference and would probably care just as little as he did, if her pace last night was any indication. His bike was still locked up by the club and he rode back to the Academy in time for morning classes. His friends asked where he'd been when they'd left and - when they found out - gave him shit six ways till sunday.
Jealous couillons.
Later on he got a sandwich for lunch and followed the crowd of Waters to their regular table, where they always sat whenever they ate in the mess hall. And everything was going just fine until a harsh female voice caught his attention from behind.
"Shoulda guessed you were a Water by the lame fuck. Still doped up or are you completely brain dead now from the drugs?"
Rambo's eyes widened and his friends gave him knowing looks, grinning conspiratorially between them as he turned around and swung a leg over the bench to face her. Of course, he thought, inwardly cursing his luck. Of course it's her. "What you name, jolie putain?" he asked in greeting, his voice provocative and a sarcastic grin already stretching his face, tacked on before he'd even turned around. He was hiding his sour misery for this, a bon couer. He knew she had no idea what he'd called her but if she was pissed it would only make her angrier not to know. "I don' think I get it las' night. You f'get t'tell me?" He looked her up and down with clear seductive intent and his grin only got bigger. "I...Je ne sais pas, you sound like dat, when you not moanin'." He didn't know all the english for I don't know, but he just rolled with it. She'd get the picture, his words would do their job. Giving pause for her to understand but not to respond, he continued on. "You a Fire girl, huh?" he assumed; he hadn't seen where she'd come from but her temper plus all that hostility could only mean one thing. "Das' not good, good chère. Ought to t'ink b'fore we fuck, huh?" He turned away from her and deliberately looked to a friend who was from Quebec and spoke his own version of French. "Je ne sais pas ce que je pensais, se au lit avec son." The girl's haughty anger was practically rolling off her in waves at this point, and despite his attitude Rambo was tensed to jump. He'd been smacked, even punched for his attitude before; he wasn't innocent, and she probably wouldn't hit him with a fist. A fireball would more her style, he didn't doubt. TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 6, 2012 16:46:12 GMT -5
Altair was disgusted by the situation, skin crawling. If there was a testament to ever stop being so promiscuous, it was situations like this. She should have been more tolerant of the Water element since it had been the element her sister hailed from, but she was dead now and the Fire leader held no attachment to the element. "A name?" she asked, her voice cool as a breeze. She tried not to think of whatever the hell he'd just called her. Blue eyes held the intensity of a snowstorm as they looked him up and down, judging every inch of him. "Sorry, can't understand you. You should go back to whatever third-world country you came from." She was a foreigner, but at least she could speak the fucking language. Disregarding the fact that French was the second language in Canada, of course. Altair just enjoyed being offensive.
Normally she'd enjoy the feeling of eyes on her, but the fact that they belonged to this Water boy pissed her off. She knew her anger would be giving him what he wanted, since he seemed to just love pissing her off, but she couldn't help snapping back when he commented about her moaning. "Wanna know how I'll sound burning you alive?" Her eyes glinted, the edge of a knife, her threats very real. When had she ever been known to go back on her words? If someone could bring forth evidence of that, she'd be happy to see them. She had all the power to burn that pretty brown hair and turn it to ash. Maybe he wouldn't be so cocky when he was a bald motherfucker. Altair had to smirk at his question then. "Not just a Fire girl," she purred, her voice still affected by the anger. "The Fire girl. Leader. Pleasure is all mine, dickweed." She had pride in her title. She just wasn't any old Fire chick who was too big for her britches. Altair knew all the power she had and how to use it.
Bloody pompous asshole. She had a low tolerance for people as it was, and he had not made it to her good list. This was simply projection, though, as she was not willing to admit her own mistakes. Which is why his words made her sneer. "Same goes to you, whatever the fuck your name is," the girl told him. Maybe he should have thought twice before he took one step near her, the most powerful Fire student as far as titles went. But no, the first ruled of the Academy was that you don't talk about the Academy. If she were anyone else, she might just left well enough alone, kept it to herself. But anger controlled her like a marionette, and she was its prisoner. Hearing him speak to his buddy in French, a language she only had a minute understanding of thanks to trips to the country, it was a matter of reflex to summon up a blast of Fire and aim it straight at him, not caring who was around him at the table. It was like a forest fire, wild and uncontrollable. Nothing would stop her. "Altair," she told him then, her smirk still perched on those lips. "Thought you might want to give a name to the nurse." She was predicting a trip to the medical wing, because she wouldn't stop short of injury.
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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 7, 2012 4:18:12 GMT -5
THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP Rambo knew what it felt like to be on the cusp of a fight you couldn't win. He'd been left to his own devices for most of his youth and there were plenty of places to throw your fists around when you lived in his kind of town. His trick was to fight near a bayou, any bayou, so he could push the other person in if he couldn't beat them senseless with pure muscle. He'd done this since he'd been a little kid, long before he'd figured out what his Element was. During first year at the Academy he'd thought about that old trick of his and wondered whether it was some kind of magic cunja because of his power, a link between him and the water. Now that he knew what small, small talent he had and realized that the way he won fights was just common sense, he was kind of proud of his wits. But Rambo still knew what it felt like to lose, knew the here goes nothing dread when his opponent was too...anything for him to have a hope of throwing them in the water, and he felt like that now.
The Cajun yelped and cursed when Altair tossed a spiral of white-hot fire at his face, pure energy formed into tongues of flame, her anger physically manifested and speeding towards his wide green eyes. He'd jumped to his feet at the sudden burst of light and fallen over the seat he'd been lounging at, a curious shield of water coalescing in front of him and blocking the fireball for as long as it could. Steam erupted from the space in front of his chest and when he scrambled away from the table he realized he had now a large seared hole in his shirt. Where had that shield come from? Had he gotten water to drink with his lunch? Had anyone else?
His shirt was still smoking.
"Vous tortue moche, pourquoi tu ne peux pas me donner une callote?!" He was glaring at her now, his eyes wide in shock and nose wrinkled so that his lip was raised just the tiniest bit over his teeth. It didn't make him look tough, more like a crazed hamster, but he couldn't help it. He knew nothing he could do would intimidate her...he wasn't some doe-eyed Texian couillon who couldn't tell French from Spanish on the best of days. He just didn't want her roasting him alive. "You s'posed t'hav r'spect an' love f'you fellow man!" Rambo couldn't believe he was essentially quoting scripture at her, but, merde, she was so far from Jesus she'd probably never call him on it. Anyone who could send fire spitting from her hands had to be some kind of antichrist. He may as well have been speaking French anyway, he'd been talking so fast. But he could feel the high of the confrontation wearing off, and he was still la grand misere trying to fend off something like that. Rambo could hardly manipulate water, let alone summon it from thin air, and she'd just tried to roast the skin from his bones. There really wasn't much hope at this point, and he knew it. TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 8, 2012 17:26:59 GMT -5
Altair did not play well with others, and she wanted Rambo to learn this. As much as she could be a loyal person to her element and the people in it, she was just as easily incensed. She smirked when she saw the hole in his shirt, eyebrow raised quizzically. She was feeling pretty good right about now, so that when he spoke in his fucking language, she merely rolled her eyes. The girl had no idea what he'd called her, and she didn't care. His words couldn't scratch her armor. "Sorry, don't speak retard," she said, her cockiness showing through. She not only had a title to back her up, she had a firm hold on her powers, and tenacity to boot. She wasn't afraid of the Water kid glaring her down, looking like he'd back up his words. She was far from intimidated. And she had never been intimidated before, being the bull that she was. She charged through any barrier without a thought, and Rambo was just another one of those barriers for her. All it took was a spark, a flame to ignite and she could burn everything in her path.
It took her a moment to decipher the frantic words, in addition to his heavy accent, but when she did she merely snorted. Love your fellow man? What kind of bullshit was spewing from his mouth? It was almost sickening to her, those kinds of beliefs. She respected no one as much as she respected herself. Other than her sister, she was the only one that mattered. Rambo? He was nothing but a mistake, a regret that she was taking care of right this second. "Who do you think I am? You're seriously fooling yourself if you think that I'm someone whose into that sort of pacifistic bull. Sounding like one of those Earth pussies now." She rested her hands on the table and leaned forward, everything else about her calm save for the storm brewing in her eyes. Altair could wreck ships with her anger, she could certainly destroy this boy in front of her. "You wanna take this outside so I don't send this place up in flames? I could settle for either way, but I can't guarantee I won't light up your little friends." she said, her voice husky and low. Threatening the fire that she could control at her fingertips. He hadn't retaliated, so she figured he either didn't like to fight or he was younger and less powerful. She had started in the tenth grade, and now she was an eighteen-year-old senior when she should have been in college. And she could add another hole to that shirt.
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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 12, 2012 5:50:33 GMT -5
THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP "Sorry, don't speak retard," Altair spat, and Rambo could see he'd been a real and total idiot the night before. It wasn't just the flames she'd conjured out of thin air by now; she was practically breathing Fire in her every motion and expression. He should have known. You just plain didn't get into bed with someone that fast unless they were a Fire Elemental, or a cheap whore who wanted to tease you until you paid up. Fuck. Why was he such an idiot, sometimes? He wanted to blame it on being here only for a year, but then he also liked to believe that he had enough street smarts to get to know a place in less time than that. He could have said it was the drinks or the hash, but he knew he had enough experience with that heavenly combination to take it off his list. Which just left pure male stupidity. And he had been so, so stupid, because the sex they'd had hadn't been overly romantic or unique, not enough for him to forget about the life he was living now. It was harder to remember things that weren't ingrained, not like when he was back home with everybody he'd grown up with and knew which girls he could sex up in the bathroom behind Gray's Conoco and which ones were completely off-limits. Altair had hardly been a once-in-a-lifetime experience but somehow the novelty had tempted him into the darkness. Yes, he decided, she's definitely one of the devil's own. The thought was more sarcastic than anything, but the Catholic in Rambo was warning him to take the remembered religious warning more seriously than he seemed bent on doing.
Still, that comment about his Cajun French was not welcome at all. He spat at her for it and when she mentioned going outside, he was ready to lead the way, although not half couillon enough to do it. "Allons-y, chèrie, but don' t'ink I won' smack back." Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this was a bad idea, but he wasn't going to look like the coward his first week back from vacation. Besides, he'd have a better chance of getting out alive if they were out in the snow and the cold...that was his element, this whole season was his element (as much as he hated spending it here), and even if he didn't know what to do with snow just yet there had to be more water out there than in here. He really doubted that the cold would slow her down much but he didn't know and it was worth a shot. It wasn't like he had a chance in hell in the mess hall, and if they went outside he'd get pounded into the ground without an audience. He wasn't a bad fighter, really, but he was shit with elements. It took studying to learn how his powers worked, and he'd never had to study much of anything in his life. But maybe if he could get close enough, shield himself like he had in here, he could get the fiery galette to leave him alone.
OOC: Sorry for the wait! I had it pretty much typed up on Wednesday, but there was partying on grad weekend and I wasn't home from Thursday to Sunday. Now I've got my wisdom teeth out and am finishing it at 4 in the morning because I can't sleep XD TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 13, 2012 15:56:30 GMT -5
Again he went speaking his goddamned annoying as fuck language. How rude was that? Manners dictated that you should speak in the language that whoever was kicking your ass knew, and she only knew English. She didn't think that made her uneducated or anything like that, it was just he native tongue, the Queen's English. She didn't care about learning much else, though. School was a pain in the ass, the only real reason she went was because she was the leader of her element. And she did work hard, it was just painful to do so. She understood that if she ever got caught cheating it wouldn't matter too much. Only the students could strip her power from her, and so far she'd been doing a pretty good job at her position.
Well at least he would put up a fight. She liked that, liked the challenge of it. That made her grin, because she did not consider him a threat. She was eighteen-years-old, skilled with her powers, and she didn't know the first damn thing about him. Did not matter, she did not care at all. All she wanted was what she had set her mind out to.
"Come at me, then," she mocked when he said that he would smack back. She started to walk away, pride in her strut as she exited the large castle and went out into the lawn. It was covered in snow, the Canadian winter proving itself to be as fierce and powerful as ever. She didn't care, her fire could burn it all away. She'd gotten stronger in her time here, even though she started off in a grade younger than she should have been. If there was one thing she paid the most attention to it was her elemental studies, because this power was something she yearned for. She loved the strength to kick someone else's ass, the power it gave her. It was purely intoxicating.
She pivoted on her heel then, and waved a hand, the fire lashing out like a wave. The intense heat made a bead of sweat pop up on her forehead, and she could only imagine how the target of her attack was feeling. She did not speak, not caring much for mocking him now. This was a fight, what place did words have in a situation where only brute strength was used? She was not strategist, she was the Hulk on crack.
[no worries! sorry it's so short and blah, been having a bad week. xD]
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