the bridge is best for burning | altair

To say Altair didn’t care about the Fire students was an understatement. Apparently, they were supposed to be the closest bunch with this whole pack mentality, but Altair didn’t give a damn about her ‘allies’. Actually, more often that not, she clashed with the other temperamental fuckers. She clashed with everyone, but even more so with those she was supposed to be tight with. Like hell I’ll ever be close to them. The absolute only people she was close with were her sisters, and she didn’t even know what the fuck was going on with them. And she tried her best not to think hard on it, since thinking did not work well for Altair.

Therefore, sitting in the common room of the dorm and flipping through pages of a Glamour magazine did not work out. Because people wanted to talk to her. A girl must have noticed what she was reading, and said, ”Oh yeah, you’re British, aren’t you?” It must have been an attempt at friendly conversation, the other Fire student also seeming to be bored, but Altair didn’t even lift her eyes from the pages, relatively passive since she took her medication this morning. She didn’t need the Vicodin physically anymore, her leg was just fine after the operation—her brain needed it, arranged to form an addiction to the one thing that made her enjoy life a little more.

But this girl wasn’t helping her out, considering the fact that all Fire students seem to have a common temper problem. Altair’s ignorance of her made the girl snap, ”I was talking to you.” This time, she did acknowledge the girl, who she now saw was brunette and glaring at her with blue eyes. Still not as pretty as Altair and her sisters, but decent enough. ”But I wasn’t talking to you,” she responded dryly, and it was a fucking miracle she wasn’t at this girl’s neck by now. The drugs sure did help with that. The chick sneered as she said, ”Fucking bitch.” But apprently Altair turned her off enough that she walked back into what must have been her dorm. Sighing, the ‘fucking bitch’ threw the magazine on the table, stretching her arms up so that her top lifted up to show off her smooth stomach. And you better believe she was proud of that.

Decidedly bored, she left the Fire common and started her way through the dungeons. If anyoen else tried to speak with her, it probably would be a more violent reaction than earlier. However, the first person to greet her was her sister. Altair’s response to Rowena’s blunt greeting was a simple, ”Here I am.” She snorted as Rowena started off about her proffessor, in typical-Rowena fashion. ”I’m surprised you decided to even go to classes today. I had a free period, but bitches apparently like to talk in the common room like it’s a fucking forum.” She rolled her eyes. Altair definitely did not feel in the mood to go to her next class, even if it was with Rowena. ”Sounds good. Bunch of arseholes in our next class anyway, as if it weren’t bad enough.” Unlike Rowena, Altair simply took naps in class.

She led them out to the grounds, and looked around for a place where not too many students were hanging around. Wouldn’t be too good if they were tattled on for taking a drag on school grounds. Altair didn’t care too much about getting in trouble—her detention list was already looking quite admirable. Finding an appropriate enough place, she took out her pack and fished a fag from it. Using her lighter—she couldn’t wait until she could do a finger snap and light her smoke like a badass—she asked through her teeth, ”Think Syria would cut class and find us?” Out of the three of them, the youngest was the most decent academically. She gave an effort, at least, whereas her older siblings couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Altair snorted, one of her signature expressions of amusement. She kept a tally of Rowena’s foul mouth in her head, smirking a bit. The middle sister sounded different than the others, even reflecting her personality. Or what was left of it. She thought of it as a caricature of the Thunder girl’s previous nature, watered down by years of self-destruction. And here was Altair, doing nothing about it. Because she knew about self-destruction, and wasn’t about to stop her sister because that would make her a damn good hypocrite. ”She liked you so much she wanted to keep you,” the Fire girl said wryly with a roll of her eyes. ”I say cut the bitch.” She shrugged. It would be nice to have that satisfaction, but it would also mean police intervention and blah blah blah. Too much hassle, and she wasn’t going to draw attention to she and her sisters when they’d fled Britain because of exactly that.

At her sister’s quizzical look, Altair waved her arms around in a frustrated motion. ”Because we’re supposed to be so fucking chummy with each other. Can’t stand any of them, and they act like we’re best mates.” Needless to say, fights came often. ”Sounds like a fucking vacation,” she said about the Thunder dorms, even though she knew both of them would prefer if they didn’t have to deal with anyone. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Altair loved the fighting, she practically lived for it. Her fists connecting with someone else was one of the only things that gave her enjoyment sober. So the fact that people thought they could fuck with her? Well, let them. She’d find great joy in tearing them apart.

Her rough laugh ripped from her throat, and that was lucky for the prat that had been looking at them. Otherwise she’d have very near followed through on her sister’s threat. No, she was just too amused by Rowena’s choice words, a sight to see next to her apathetic sister. She didn’t mind the staring, wanted them to stare. But when they started to talk, and when it was about her baby sisters, then they’d experience her true wrath. ”Creative,” she said finally. If it weren’t for Rowena and Syria, there would have been nothing keeping the eldest from flying off the handle. There would be nothing keeping her alive. It would either be dying in a knife fight or ODing on perscription meds. That would be her fate if she didn’t have people to take care of, and what a great job she was doing with that. Altair made a big show of being the strong one, but she was just a selfish bitch. ”Sure you will, after I murder every fucking tosser in this place. It’ll be much better then.” Murder? Well, she’d come close on several occasion but she wasn’t sure if she had the stamina for the entire school. So her words weren’t entirely hollow.

Speaking of hollow, she observed her sister for a moment, from the corner of her eye so the younger wouldn’t catch on. Altair never cared enough about others to spare them more than a simple once-over, but Rowena was different. She could stand Rowena, and she worried about her though the words were never, ever spoken from her lips. And when she looked at Rowena, she saw beauty. Not just because it was almost like looking into the mirror, but because that’s what she really was, a willowy, fading beauty. Transient. What are you doing, Rowena? But she would never ask. ”She cares more about everything than we do,” she said with another roll of her eyes, speaking between her teeth with the cigarette in her mouth. ”And she better not be getting the shit we are, or there will be bloody hell to pay.” Syria was the baby, and with Rowena also being younger, Altair had a mother complex. A very twisted, selfish complex that was buried underneath her own needs. Still, better than their own mum.

Altair shook her head at Rowena’s words, frowning a bit. ”Detention can suck it. I have a fucking life, and I don’t need to spend it sitting around with a bunch of other sorry arseholes.” But it was kind of hard to avoid when most of your high school career is being spent nocking people’s teeth in. Whatever. It was easy just to ditch or sleep through it, just to make it go by quicker. And so she had to wonder at the purpose of detention. It wasn’t teaching her a lesson, god no. Was it even worth keeping her in a room for an extended period of time just so she could be released into the world again.

Nothing about this was a vacation, so Rowena was right in all her serious glory. But they all knew why they had even come to this fucking place, and it was for each other’s sake. There was no way for them to go on doing what they were with the police riding Rowena’s ass, and so it was off to the Academy they go. Secretly, though, Altair didn’t mind as much as her younger sister, and it was for one reason. Her power meant violence, more way to have power, and that’s what she always wanted—more power. If it meant suffering through all this shit, then so be it. The girl was never one to give up on anything. Exept modeling. That was different, she told herself. That was fucking different. Altair blinked at her sister when she suggested the apartment. ”We need a new lamp, by the way. I broke it against the wall when I saw a spider.” One reason she was avoiding the dump—it was a dump.

Yeah, she definitely did not detest the place as much as her sister. Odd, considering she wasn’t the one dulled from drugs. Still, she kept reminding herself that once she got all this over with she’d be like a fucking dragon, able to torch the Academy so Rowena wouldn’t have to attend it anymore if she didn’t want to. Brick is not flammable, stupid fucking castle. That only managed to breed some ire as she absentmindedly fussed with her lighter, pressign the button and letting the flame grow with her influence. Maybe if she got it hot enough… ”People probably like her more than us,” she said with a snort, because honestly, she knew neither of them even gave a damn. ”And she can definitely take care of herself.” Syria was no pushover—she was a goddamn Bennett, of course she wasn’t. But natural instinct made the two overprotective of the youngest one, the girl who was keeping even Altair stable.

The Fire girl considered Rowena’s question as she blew out smoke around the cigarette. ”If Syria wants us to stay for college, we’re fucked.” There was no way she would leave one of her sisters behind. They all had the same mentality, which brought them to Canada in the first place. She wasn’t about to split up one of the only good things in her life that was still a pretty craptastic relationship. ”But I’m willing to give it a year before I split for something better.” And what would that better thing be? Nothing, of course. Altair was just a girl that thought she could do whatever she set her mind to, even if. she was just a angry little slut. ”I’m not too worried about sanity as long as there’s a few punching bags around. The Earth faggots are gonna be useful.”

The Bennett triplets were really the ones to look out for right now in the Academy, and Altair hoped that eventually they’d learn that the sisters weren’t to be fucked with or taken lightly. Right now, they were the new girls who stuck together and had British accents. Ignorant little twats, Altair would show them what happened when you fuck with them. What you get when you fucked with her. With all this self-righteous ranting going on in her head, she almost missed what Rowena was saying, and managed to catch the end of it. Something about an ear. She gave a snort to pretend as if she heard it, but continued to smoke and tear about nameless arseholes in her head. It was a way for her to blow off steam, at least. Well, enough steam that she wouldn’t go on a rampage any time soon. When left to her fantasies, she wasn’t quite so much a bitch.

Crossing her arms as she watched the smoke, she listened to her sister’s exclamation. Spiders were disgusting. The nearest thing at the time had been a lamp. Therefore, Altair put two and two together. You couldn’t live with her and not expect some collateral damage to be done. Even though it had been Syria that put the lovely hole in their door. Again, she was only half-listening to her sister’s words. No one said Altair was a good listener, and anyone who did would get incredulous looks from the siblings. In any case, the Fire girl scrunched her nose up as Rowena spat on the ground. Ew. But like with all of the things her sister did, Altair made no comment on it. When Rowena said that she’d handle it, instead of thanking her like a normal person would, the Fire student simply flicked the ash to the ground and nodded. Her sisters were the only ones who were able to make her feel guilty, even if they weren’t trying. Because she knew she was supposed to be the responsible one. She was the one supposed to be making money, not spending it all on anything that catches her fancy.

Altair shrugged as her sister glared, smirking a bit. The two people she would never attack no matter how angry they got at her were her sisters. Because she loved them and she actually cared for them and so Rowena’s anger—even though it wasn’t for her—was easily brushed off. The people she cared for most were never a target for her, hurting them in any way definitely did not feel good. See, she had some redeeming qualities, but they all were for her sisters. Her smirk dropped with Rowena’s next words though. ”The fuck you think I’ve been doing?” she muttered darkly, taking the cigarrette from her mouth. Any sentence from another person’s mouth that so much as involved one of her sisters were due for a beatdown. That’s what most of her detentions were for, anyway. Because people liked to talk shit, and so the Fire girl would give them shit in return.

Even when Rowena vehemently rejected the thing, she could already tell that it would be the youngest’s wish to stay for college. Syria was honestly the best thing for them, even though they wouldn’t admit to that. They wouldn’t say that there was anything wrong about them. They just sat around and bitched about their shitty lives, and this made them feel at least somewhat better. ”Send the little bitches my way,” she stated simply, but still in a threatening tone, with the mention of Earth kids. It was almost ironic to think the pussies were strong against anyone, but the elements dictated it and blah blah blah. Even the thought of Rowena having to put up with them pissed her off, and she felt like a bull as she blew the smoke from her nose, silent now with her anger so she didn’t snap at her sister or anything. Yes, Altair actually had self-control. Go figure.