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Post by ROWENA AUDREY BENNETT on Oct 5, 2011 3:45:46 GMT -5
it's not getting any better , WE COULD USE EACH OTHER It was almost laughable irony that she'd promised to make herself better and had started to slip already. Rowena had resisted the subtle temptations of heroin from an obvious dealer at the party thus far, but it was her third cigarette and about her second beer. She hadn't been here for long enough to count the number of people in the place, or so it felt. Ro wasn't quite drunk--no, not yet. Though there was a buzz, a pleasant haze of intoxication, she could still think far enough to be reminded of Syria as she spotted a dusty piano pushed up against the wall. The layer of grime on the thing suggested that the parents of the party host just used it as decoration, to make themselves seem classy when in reality they were a bunch of snobs that had never 'tickled the ivories' in their life. She didn't care about these people, but she cared about the welling of emotion in her throat as she thought of what Syria may or may not have said. She'd liked the piano, Rowena recalled. Don't think about Syr, not tonight. She grasped the second can of beer without even a thought--Ro didn't even realise it was in her hand until her shaky frame was struggling with the tab.
She was weak from the abuse of her body but she was also very proud, so rather than asking one of the nearby guys to give her a hand she simply leaned up against the table and forced her trembling fingers to work for her, eventually awarded with a satisfying crack as the tab pushed down and the smell of the liquid within started to permeate the air. The blonde wrinkled her nose instinctively. Drinking had never been something she'd done a lot of before, but without her drugs she'd needed something to hold onto. Or, in this case, two somethings. She had a cigarette, unlit, held in her other hand. It was more the comfort of knowing she could smoke it if she felt the need rather than the actual desire to light up right then and there. A bit ridiculous to some, perhaps, but this was her way of coping. The fragile but slender Thunder elemental wound her way around the packed room of bodies with ease, seeming to bother no one as she went. Ro never had been much of a people person, of a socialiser. Not in recent years, anyway. It had been her sisters she'd always relied on for company if she was feeling lonely, but she only had one sister now and Altair had, frankly, her own shit to be getting on with. Though she felt that the fiery triplet would not mind a call in the middle of the night complaining of boredom, Ro wasn't the type to bother her like that. She didn't want Altair to worry, though there was certainly enough to be worrying about.
A heavy sigh blew some of the blonde strands from her forehead as she braced her hands onto a counter in the small kitchen and hauled herself up onto it. There weren't as many people here, thankfully, most of them out in the sweaty mess of a living room. She'd never had much of a problem with nausea in parties before, but the smell of the drugs that wafted over the party like a dangerous cloud posed more than just a danger of rank smells to Rowena. Her drug of choice had been injected rather than smoked, but she'd dabbled experimentally in other things before, and she didn't think she had the heart to resist if the temptation was right under her nose for a second time that night. Again, the girl was solitary in her battle. She would not confess her woes to any of the other partygoers--in fact, they might be useful as distractions rather than shoulders to cry on. With this thought in mind, she hopped back off the counter and took a long sip of beer for confidence before scanning the crowd. A slightly familiar face made her frown, and though she'd never met the girl personally she could have sworn she'd seen that head of hair in the Thunder dormitories before.
She wasn't shy, just quiet, so she quite shamelessly approached the girl and asked, "Do I know you from school?" She was neither drunk enough to have a slur nor to be stupid enough to say something along the lines of, "You're that Thunder chick, right?" Ro might have been a new student of the Academy but she did understand that there were rules to this, and shouting that you could manipulate electricity in a room full of plain old humans was idiotic at best. By generalising 'school', she could have meant anywhere, and if she was wrong the worst she'd get was an odd look and a flat 'no'. "Name's Rowena, if tha' helps." She'd never been personally acquainted with this girl, but sometimes names floated around. The Bennett triplets were partially famous thanks to the fact that Syria had died. People knew her as 'that girl with the dead sister', and though she loathed this title with a passion she figured that mentioning her name might assure Eniko that they really attend the same school and she wasn't some drunk human asking random strangers questions.
hey mind reader , |
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Post by bellatrix on Oct 7, 2011 0:02:50 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 500px; background: url(http://i996.photobucket.com/albums/af82/sataraalcaelahn/Tar%20Valon/Flames_from_Fire_Wallpaper_18.jpg); border-radius: 30 30 30 30 px; padding: 10px;] . I set fire to the rain And I threw us into the flames let it burn Eniko couldn’t help but wince as she got dressed. The scar stretching all across her front, from her left shoulder to the inside of her right hip, was not really a scar yet. 120 stitches were still implanted firmly in her. The doctors said it would be a month until she was able to move freely again, and it might never be the same. She would always have a ugly scar. A scar that ruined her dreams. a scar that served as a daily reminder of her past. It disgusted her. She had to have surgery in the end, and that wouldn’t have had to happen if she hadn’t bled out so much she bet. The only reason she was left there bleeding was because the butler had to decide between her life, and the possibility of the news finding out about this and ruining her parent’s careers. Of course, that was the sick and twisted way of the world. In the end it was actually her brother, the one who did this to her, who called the hospital. She wished he didn’t She wished she had just been left there to bleed out. Save her from this shit hole of a world. But no, that would be too merciful.
Because she couldn’t bend over, Eniko had to hire people to move her stuff into the dorm, as awkward of a first impression that probably made. Not that she minded what others thought. The movers put everything up high, and nothing required her to bend over to get it. Even the bed was raised to accommodate. Putting on pants was too hard though, so Eniko was stuck wearing dressed. Today she slipped on a black long sleeved yet short dress. In the future Eniko knew she’d have to wear turtlenecks or jackets to hide her future scar. Well, those could be worked out fashionably she supposed. She threw on a Valentino Ruffled trenchcoat over it. It was a gift from her first modeling with them for her hard work. It was also one of her first big modeling breaks.
Lastly Eniko fought to get her shoes on, and then almost laughed at her outfit. Valentino Coat, Alexander McQueen dress, Chanel handbag, and Prada shoes. In all her outfits net worth was probably greater than the students in this school put together. What a joke this small town was. Eniko was used to being around those from her agency. Other models that wore the same clothes and understood fashion. Here, she probably wouldn’t even find someone who recognized her bag. It was a waste, but it was also the only kind of clothes she had. Besides, she didn’t care what they thought of her or if they just didn’t.
Eniko left the building swiftly, and climbed into her car. She had it halfway paid off with her money from modeling, and when the contract with Prada would have gone through, she would have had it completely paid. With her own money, not that of her stupid parents. But no, now she would either have to use her savings to cover the rest of it, or find another job. That pissed her off. The porche Carrera Gt was a car that had potential to attract attention in a small town. Eniko wasn’t exactly expecting an area like this though, where her car just might be one of the nicer ones. Then again, let than 1,300 had been released. Even though Eniko never purposely flaunted her wealth, she wasn’t going to inconvenience herself by neglecting it. Despite all this though, just by her attitude most people expected her to be some street rat from the slums.
Eniko was heading out to a party. Some elemental kid she ran into mentioned it. Eniko was in a slightly nice mood so she didn’t insult him, and just shrugged that maybe she’d be there. High school parties were lame though, no matter who threw them or why. To Eniko, the only kind of party’s worse, were the ones her mother put on. Whether it be a formal ball for her father’s senators and campaign workers, or a cocktail party throw by her mother, they all sucked. Yes, her parents did come by for those times, but she never exchanged so much as a formal greeting. The only good thing about those parties was the fact she was always a main attraction, and there were a good number of managers from other companies around to notice. Eniko knew that she had her mother’s almost alien bone structure and ease of a metabolism and it was the only thing the stupid woman ever gave her.
This party thrown on by the kids was the same as every other. In reality, she only went there to see if there was a decent guy. Her chest wound would inconvenience her, but it was possible. She’d just have to keep a shirt on. When Eniko walked into the house, she observed that it was fairly good sized. There were drinks and a large amount of people. Eniko didn’t look around too much, but went to a couch and sat down. She knew what she was doing. Soon enough someone did come up to her. One look at the guy though, had Eniko ignoring him until he just went away. It passed like that for a good fifteen minutes. Nobody who approached her fit her style. Another five went by, and Eniko found a drink in her hand. Sure, she wasn't supposed to mix it with her pain killers, but maybe if she took em both they might work together. She didn't stop at one drink.
When Eniko heard another voice call out to her, the pain in her chest was starting to relieve itself. It wasn't much more than a pleasant buzz, but it was doing the trick and relaxing her. She was relieve that the one who called out to her sounded like a female, not another pathetic guy. Then again, maybe if she kept drinking one of them might suddenly look good enough for her. She turned her head and it was like Deja vu. "Fuck, I gotta stop this." She mumbled to herself. It was just yesterday that she had seen the sister of this chick. Yeah, Eniko had a remarkable memory for faces, and she remembered this one from both the school, and seeing her around her sister at one of the 'Queen's', AKA her mothers, parties. Even though she recognized her, Eniko still took her time in responding. "Yeah." She finally said before taking another drink.
She heard rumors about this chick, but there were rumors about herself as well. Their was no pretty thing about em, and Eniko didn't care to divulge in them. Not because she thought they were rude, but because they were as fake as the people who came up with them. A hater of fake things and beings, Eniko thought herself above such pathetic behavior. Sipping again at the drink, she finally let out a sigh and turned back around. It might seem like she was done talking, but she would say moments later: "What are you doing here? Ya don't look that social. What's yer attraction to a lame party like this? a good Fuck or Drugs? " That was Eniko, blunt as usual.
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[/color] [/div] words // no idea... // tagged // Row // outfit // clicky [/td][/tr][/table][/center] Table made by Satara of Caution 2.0!
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Post by ROWENA AUDREY BENNETT on Oct 7, 2011 4:50:25 GMT -5
it's not getting any better , WE COULD USE EACH OTHER On a second glance, Rowena most definitely noticed the brand and expense of the outfit that the girl she'd chosen to converse with was wearing. Normally it was one of the first things she noticed about a person (you could tell a lot about a girl from the shoes she wore) but in the event of her alcohol buzz, it was forgiveable that her reflexes weren't as respectable as usual. Rowena raised her brow and said, "The fuck'd you say if someone asked you who you were wearing?" she asked bluntly, not bothering to filter her words. Rowena was never concerned with emotions or feelings because she didn't have much experience with them herself. "Little of fuckin' everyone?" Shaking her head, it may or may not have been clear to Eniko that she was not insulting her. No--Ro had never grown up in a life of wealth, but when you pursued a career in modelling and fashion you certainly had to know your way around a collection of designer handbags. She had a few pieces herself from her modelling days but she mostly designed a lot of her own stuff now. It wasn't that she thought herself as being 'above' the designer names, Ro was just pretty much broke as well as possessing her own sense of style. She didn't think she could wear an outfit that didn't have some sort of custom flair. Old habits died hard, she supposed.
It would be perhaps recognisable to someone familiar with design that Ro was not wearing something you could get out of any fashion store. Her dress and the jacket to match had little alterations and the like that she had done herself. Wasn't quite as satisfying as entire pieces crafted by one's own hand, but it had to suffice. She hadn't designed a full outfit in ages. She could almost hear her dead sister if Syria had found out that Rowena had taken up drawing and design again--she was sure the Water elemental would be delighted. Unfortunately, that was something she could not share with her. Thanks to the alcohol, the pang of loss she felt was muted and barely noticed by the Thunder girl. Instead, she was focusing most of her attention on her new companion. It wasn't that she was envious of the girl or that she was longing to be in her company. Rowena had never been the type to join a sort of 'posse'--she'd always just had her two sisters by her side for that. No, it wasn't a desire to fit in with the fashionable girl that pulled her. It was more like a longing for some sort of company. She would be too bored if she were to spend the entire night drinking alone. No one liked to drink alone.
She surveyed the other elemental through a critical blonde gaze. "Who're you to judge?" she snorted, shaking her head and flicking the ash of her cigarette onto the floor. This wasn't her house and it would have been a lot more cordial to think of finding an ashtray to dispose of the fag residue, but Ro was hardly the type to take the wishes of others and respect for their property into account. Again, she was used to only caring about her sisters. Sister, now. "I came here to drink. Same's most of the other sorry gits." She gestured vaguely with the hand holding the cigarette, indicating the other party-goers. She didn't really know many of the people here. A lot of these parties were crashed by myriads of people that didn't know the host. Ro figured that if you were stupid enough to leave your front door wide open and not watch who was coming through it, well, it was your fault if you woke up with a complete stranger on your couch amidst the piles of empty beer cans and puddles of sick. "I don't do drugs," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Fuckin' ain't a part o' the plan, either."
It felt weird to say that, even though she wasn't necessarily 'opening up' as much as she was just stating the blunt truth about her intentions. True, alcohol and nicotine were drugs in and of themselves, but when she indicated drugs she was speaking of things a little more serious like crack and heroin and the like. Ro had been down that road and now she was trying to find her way back up it. She sure as hell hoped this chick didn't offer anything that she might be loaded with. That wouldn't be good for her sense of resistance. Rowena had never kidded herself about inner strength, no matter how she came across to other people. It was only for the sake of Altair that she'd come this far. "Got a name, have you?" It was sarcastic and accompanied with a slight roll of her eyes, seeing as Eniko had never bothered to introduce herself.
hey mind reader , |
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Post by bellatrix on Oct 7, 2011 12:37:13 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 500px; background: url(http://i996.photobucket.com/albums/af82/sataraalcaelahn/Tar%20Valon/Flames_from_Fire_Wallpaper_18.jpg); border-radius: 30 30 30 30 px; padding: 10px;] . I set fire to the rain And I threw us into the flames let it burn Eniko raised an eyebrow at the girl’s reaction to her outfit; a little pleased she had the eye to at least notice what it was. She turned her head and glanced over to the girl’s outfit out of curiosity. Curiosity probably stemmed from the alcohol or she never would have given a flying fuck. She didn’t recognize any name brands, and if anything it looked like what you got out of one of those handmade stores. Eniko sometimes liked to look inside those small shops where they make the clothes out of used ones right there in a shop. She never bought anything though. Eniko didn’t say anything other than to stare at the girls outfit. “Dress fer comfort.” She finally responded after she’d turned back around. More than for comfort, she tried to put on what semi-matched, and didn’t have her cursing in pain as it rubbed against her wound. It was nice because the dress was so thin; it felt like it wasn’t even on her. Plus, the material was of such a high make she didn’t have to worry about it leaving cotton or anything else behind. The jacket was light, and because it was long-sleeved and semi-stiff it was able to disperse its weight evenly across her body. The shoes however, she had spoiled herself with.
Eniko almost chuckled when the girl, Rowena, asked who she was to judge. Of course Eniko was a hypocrite in every way. Unlike the others here, she wouldn’t lie about what she wanted when she wanted it. If asked she’d say she was hoping there’d be a body worth a little fun. Of course there wasn’t and she wasn’t asked so she wouldn’t say anything. Eniko never was a talker until she got Drunk or angry. Well, angrier than she normally was. Right now with only a buzz, she was far from being like those other girls. The fake ones who did nothing but blab about stuff nobody cared to know about. Pathetic. This girl was here to drink it would seem. It would also appear that she was working on that. Eniko supposed her plans had changed as well. As if to fuel a private sense of humor she took another drink. “So ya have some smarts.” She said in response to the ‘I don’t do drugs’ comment. Eniko herself found them useless. Perhaps it was a pride thing that made it so that she couldn’t allow something else to take charge of her body. It would be bad enough to be controlled by a person, but by an inanimate object? Eniko would rather die than be shamed like that.
Her name was asked, and Eniko knew she hadn’t given it. Eniko usually only made public appearances when she modeled, or at one of her mother’s parties. At either place everyone already knew her name, and ironically those were usually the only people she would bother giving it to if one of them would ever ask. At school or around town though, she didn’t care to give out a name. Eniko had a theory about names. They were powerful things. Someone with knowledge of one could do anything, claim they had done something or said something. A smart person would only give it to someone they trusted. Well, Eniko wasn’t smart, and she didn’t give a shit what others said about her. “Lapina.” She said her last name first. “Eniko Pivoverova lapina.” She hated how she had her mother’s last name as a middle name almost as much as she hated her mother.
For a second, Eniko wondered if the chick would know what happened, but someone living in the middle of Canada probably wouldn’t. Eniko had to roll her eyes. ‘The girl of the supermodel and senator, attacked in an alleyway’ as so many websites and magazines claimed. Eniko was a little disappointed with them. They claimed only one man did it, but she would have rather they put down at least three. Give her some credit or something. It made her feel like a helpless little girl. Eniko could have taken one or two on her own, or at least she could have gotten away. Then again, her logic never did make sense. "Ya gonna keep talking to my back, or are ya gonna take a seat?" She looked over to the spot on the couch next to her. This was probably the closest thing to an invite to talk as Eniko had ever given. If asked, she'd blame it on the buzz.
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[/color] [/b] [/color] [/div] words // no idea... // tagged // Row // outfit // clicky [/td][/tr][/table][/center] Table made by Satara of Caution 2.0!
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Post by ROWENA AUDREY BENNETT on Oct 8, 2011 3:19:11 GMT -5
it's not getting any better , WE COULD USE EACH OTHER Rowena snorted slightly when the other girl mentioned comfort in her style of dress. "Apparently comfort needs to cost thousands of dollars." It was not an insult and Rowena didn't really mind that the girl dressed as if she came from a lot of money (she probably did), it was just her blunt style of addressing people. Ro tended to go with the flow and just accept whatever. Eniko didn't have anything to do with her, so why should it bother her that the other girl had more money than she did? Rowena dressed for style rather than comfort a lot of the time, but being a designer, with fashion came comfort. If she didn't like something about her outfit she would tweak and adjust it to her liking. It would probably be considered scandalous to alter a Chanel dress or a Gucci handbag just because there was something about it that irked you, but if Rowena had the money or the desire to possess such classy fashion items she definitely wouldn't hesitate to take a pair of scissors to them. It was probably why she didn't really bother with the name brands in fashion. She could find a much cheaper knock-off that she could alter to her liking and not have to worry if she messed something up in the process and had to trash the piece of clothing. It would be twenty bucks rather than two hundred that went down the drain. But that was Ro, that was her individual views, and so she didn't give a shit what other people did with their money. If you had it to spend, spend it.
She did not respond to the comment about smarts, just shrugging slightly. It wasn't intelligence that kept her from the drugs. She had done drugs for years now and giving them up was a very difficult thing to do. She was abstaining from their use because she knew that she could die if she didn't. Maybe that could be considered smart in a way, but it was fear more than anything else. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to leave Altair behind as the only sister left of what was once a trio. Smart. Sure. The thought crossed her mind but she didn't bother vocalising it. Instead, she took another deep drag of her cigarette to prevent the necessity of talking. Ro wasn't often a very talkative person. She did wonder if Eniko was some sort of druggie, however, and so she decided she would ask, "Ever got high yourself?" It was purely conversational. She wasn't offering to get high with Eniko and she certainly didn't want to share in any sort of stash that the girl might have. One could have assumed that she was subtly pondering whether there had more to be had on the comment of intelligence, but this wouldn't be true. Ro wasn't deep or philosophical. Ro was drunk, and it seemed like a good thing to talk about when she was drunk. That was the simplest of explanations.
"Tha's a bloody weird name," she said with an arch of a white-blonde brow when Eniko introduced herself as Lapina. Then she altered what she had said and it took the blonde Thunder elemental a moment to realise what she meant. Oh, so that was her last name. Rowena didn't make any sort of connection with Eniko's middle name at all--she probably wouldn't have noticed even if she was completely sober. Lapina also didn't ring a bell, so she dropped any pondering she might have done of the other two names and said of Eniko, "S'not much better. Not like I can talk." The Thunder elemental shrugged. Her name was of old English, Rowena, and it certainly wasn't something you heard very often. But having an uncommon name didn't mean that she was unable to point out the oddities of other people. She'd never heard of someone called Eniko before. "Where you from?" It might have seemed like a random question, but she was simply wondering what country or ethnicity that name might have originated from. Or maybe Eniko's parents were just strange. That would have made sense as well. Some people didn't have to have a reason for naming their kids. Some people just chose names because they liked them.
Though she hadn't been paying too much mind to the fact that she'd been leaning on the back of the couch rather than sitting down on it, Ro shrugged and sat cooperatively enough. She was rather adaptable to things when she was drunk. She went with the flow of things and conversations because the alcohol caused things that wouldn't normally make sense to be perfectly fine and plausible. "We got any classes together?" She'd asked Eniko if they knew one another from school and the other girl had answered in the affirmative, but it seemed strange that she had never learned her name. Intoxicated Rowena missed the obvious--they were both Thunder elementals. But she wasn't thinking about her powers at the moment. She didn't think of them very often, to be honest. They weren't as great as she'd thought. She couldn't create massive lightning storms, she couldn't electrocute people. She just attended the Academy because it had been Syria's wish. One of her last wishes.
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