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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Mar 6, 2012 15:56:52 GMT -5
  Once upon a time, Altair made friends. Real friends, not people she hung around for the sake of having company and entertainment. But even in her childhood, the friends that she made were never kept close. Her sisters were the only friends she really needed. They had stuck together through anything. Did we really? she thought sardonically, nursing a bottle of beer. Day was on its way turning to night, and the haze of twilight made the girl more confident about drinking outside. She'd like to say with confidence they stuck together through thick and thin, because physically, they were always there for each other. But it was clear when Syria died what was really going on. The girl weren't the type to open up, or to talk, or to offer emotional support. It was their downfall. Maybe they'd never have to have to gone to America if they could just talk to one another.
It had been months, but the hole left in Syria's absence was still there. She felt it sometimes, in moments like this when she sat on the picnic table, sandled feet on the bench. When she was alone and drinking, it hit her with novel clarity that if she got a call, it wouldn't be from Syria. It hit her that she'd never offer her jokes when she and Rowena were being whiny bitches. She guessed she'd gotten used to it, but that didn't mean thinking about the whole concept of it still didn't hurt her. Never. Death went hand-in-hand with that word. Altair flipped the bottle cap around in her fingers, before throwing it so that it landed far away on the grass. She hated thinking. Most everything she did was by instinct, and it showed. She wasn't truly the sharpest tool in the shed, but she made up for it with her cleverness.
People may not think the fashion industry required cleverness, but that's what it was all about. That's how she got back into it. The pride brought a little smirk to her lips. It felt good to be a model again. Not only that, but she was leader of the Fire element. Things finally seemed to be doing good for her. Well, as good as she let them be. Not like it was really legal for her to be sitting in the park, drinking a Molson. She held the bottle against her chest, the tanktop and shorts she was wearing not really helping much in the heat. She liked the winter months simply because you could always get warmer. But once you were down to your skin, you couldn't take anything else off. Altair wondered what her sister was doing, if she should go home to see if she was there, or if she should go off looking for a party. One benefit of summer was no schoolwork, and she took full advantage of that.
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Post by james on Mar 6, 2012 21:57:55 GMT -5
  » NOISES I PLAY WITHIN MY HEADtouch my own skin and hope that i'm still breathing and i think back to when my brother and my sister slept in an unlocked place the only time i feel safe
[/color][/b]", It didn’t help that Kylie, who so often abandoned her shoes, could very well have been the little girl to step on the bottle cap. James leaned slightly closer, though still keeping his distance, and took a deep sniff. He could smell the alcohol wafting from the bottle. His face turned down in disgust. " Don’t even pretend you’re legal. Give me that bottle and get out of here, go get some help." James was utterly disgusted by the girl and her drinking, especially so near little children. [/ul]
[ status !] incomplete [ word count !] 616 [ tag !] altair sabina bennett [ notes !] x[/size] |
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Mar 7, 2012 19:01:08 GMT -5
Altair didn't expect company. Didn't really want company. She wasn't friendly even though she easily communicated with people, the opposite definition of timid. So she wasn't at all frightened or shy when an older man approached, and steered her eyes to the cap in his hand. The way he spoke to her made her eyes turn to a glassy chill. "They'd get a booboo," she said dryly. Scraped up, probably. But hey, injuries built character. She'd gotten herself cut up as a kid and it didn't traumatize her, or her siblings. Though she could never be sure of what they went through. Syria must have been traumatized in some way, right? She and Rowena were at a loss of what to think when her best friend died. She had closed herself off after that a bit, and they thought she had just been grieving. They didn't realize what was really happening to the Water girl's psyche.
She took the cap from his hand, even though she would have liked to be even snarkier and told him to keep it as a gift. "Good parents make sure to watch their kids and don't let them take their shoes off." She knew her parents had always told her and her sisters that when taking their kids to the park. She remembered these times fondly, when the three of them were perfect, when everything was bright. When she didn't hate their parents. They hadn't spoke ever since they left for Canada, and she liked that. She hoped they had gotten in an accident or something after they left. Maybe there was no real reason to be so bitter, but the three sisters had agreed upon the decision to no longer talk to the people who'd raised them after they fell so hard from grace. Altair rather literally, considering her fall from the runway. But she was back on top, wasn't she? "And what are you, the guardian fucking angel of the park or some creeper who likes to look at little kids?" He didn't have a child with him, so she could only guess.
Altair held the bottle between her legs, wishing this guy would just go away. It was obvious by the fact that he was older that he felt he had a right to lecture her if he felt like it. She wanted to tell him that he wasn't her father or a policeman, and therefore he could fuck right off. Before she could tell him that, however, he took it upon himself to critisize her drinking. "Oh really," she said just as dryly as before. How in the hell could he tell whether she was legal or not? She was eighteen, next year she'd be able to drink legally in British Columbia. Fuck, she could drink legally in a bunch of other places. "You can fuck right off and mind your business. My drinking isn't hurting anyone, and I have an ID to prove that to you." Not like she really felt the need to prove anything to him. But she did have an ID, because half of the shit she did do was illegal. She was illegal, but she wasn't going to tell this guy that. She waved her fingers at him in a motion to move along.
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Post by james on Mar 7, 2012 20:57:28 GMT -5
» NOISES I PLAY WITHIN MY HEADtouch my own skin and hope that i'm still breathing and i think back to when my brother and my sister slept in an unlocked place the only time i feel safe
[/i] camper. And if Altair continued on this path, she was going to get some serious backlash. But the insolent girl didn’t seem to care. She just went right ahead. James clenched his fists, his face becoming stormy as he leaned in close to her. As he looked her up and down again, her name returned to him. Altair, Altair Bennett. He had her in a class or two. From the gossip that James picked up around campus – Altair was a bitchy Fire queen. She thought she had control over everything, that she was untouchable. Well James was going to quite happily break that bubble. You see, teacher totally outranked queen bee. Because if Altair really wanted to cross him, well James could uncover her activities to the school, perhaps suggest that she should be held back while she worked out her problems. Maybe add in a couple more little things to get her really mad. James would do it, and he would consider himself a her afterwards. I mean really, it could have been his daughter that stepped on the cap. Then Altair would have been in for real hell. " Miss Altair Bennett," he used her full name, attempting to remind her of who he was and what he could do. " I am in fact one hundred percent certain that you are only eighteen years old. And according to our wonderful laws here in British Columbia, you have to be nineteen." He smiled, though there was no amusement. His eyes were in fact quite dark. He was a Fire, and tempermental, and Altair had successfully pissed him off. He reached out, yanking the bottle from her fingers without a hint of gentleness. " And I’m no guardian of this fucking park, but I might as well be your guardian angel." He growled at her before pointing angrily over at the playset where Kylie was now sliding down a twirling slide. Her arms were in the air as she shrieked and giggled – still singing the Batman theme song. " And it could have been my kid, so dig your head out of the clouds before someone really knocks sense into you." James was disgusted. He was more than disgusted, he was infuriated. It was taking all of his maturity and elemental control to keep himself from seriously going off at Altair and making a scene. He held the bottle away from himself, walking to a trash can and throwing it in. He doubted he could really stop Altair from drinking, but he wasn’t going to enable her. In fact, he was going to make it as difficult as fucking possible – especially if she was going to be within a mile of his baby girl. James ran a hand through his hair. This wasn’t over. He knew Altair would be coming at him full swing any moment. But he would contain the situation. He would be an example of what a respectable person really was. And when they went back to school, he was going to make sure she was taken care of. A word or two to the guidance counselors would be especially important. James was not at all a fan of this behavior. Whether school was in session or not, she was still a representative of the Academy and of her kind [/ul]
[ status !] incomplete [ word count !] 563 [ tag !] altair sabina bennett [ notes !] x[/size] |
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Mar 8, 2012 21:40:09 GMT -5
Altair narrowed her blue gaze when he used her full name. "Do I fucking know you?" she hissed. And who the fuck did he think he was, anyway, her mother? The full name didn't have quite the same effect when it came from the mouth of a man she didn't even know. Should she know him? Altair didn't pay much attention to people, really, so she couldn't be sure about him. How the hell did he know that she was eighteen anyway? She was slowly coming to the realization that he might have been a professor from the Academy. Not that she gave out her full name and age anywhere other than the modeling agency that she'd just become a part of. "If I'm allowed to serve in the military, I fancy I should be allowed to drink," she muttered, taking another swig just to prove that nothing he said would change anything. She didn't give a fuck about his opinions or what he thought she should be doing at her age. She'd been doing a lot of things she shouldn't have since she was fourteen, and it wasn't like he knew this. Therefore, he didn't have any power over her. The people who held the most power were the ones that new her the best. And there was only one girl.
She watched him point over to the young girl running around wit ha cape, and snorted. Cute kid, she had to admit. Not that she had a soft spot for kids. Or anything. But still, he must have mistaken her for an empathetic person. Someone who would duck their head in shame and apologize upon realizing what she did. "You're funny," she said dryly about the guardian angel comment. It was great that he was protecting his daughter and all, but that was his responsibility. Not hers. No use in lecturing her for something he should go out of his way to prevent. "Dig my head out of the clouds," she said slowly blinking. For one, "dig" didn't sound like the right word to use. For another, her head was not in the clouds. She was firmly grounded in reality thank you. "Maybe you should keep your eye on your daughter instead of worrying about me." It was actually said without a hint of malice, just stated as a fact. Parents who took their eyes off kids lost them forever. She was the prime example.
She glared when he took the bottle, not even caring that his daughter was nearby when she grabbed him by the shirt collar. She was tall, and even though she was slight she had power behind her movements. She was a fighter after all. Not that she could stand up to a man who was probably twice her age and size. But she didn't really have common sense when she was pissed to high hell. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are," she seethed, her tone deathly serious. "But you better leave me the fuck alone. What I do is not any of your business, so why don't you take your kid and get the fuck out of here." She backed up, cracking her knuckles on one hand with her thumb. The rage she felt was pretty incomprehensible. It was always like this. Blinding. All-consuming. She guessed that's what it was like for everyone. Then again, she didn't think about everyone. She only thought about herself, and she believed this guy should be the same way. Him and his kid, not her and her beer.
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