|
Post by january on Sept 8, 2012 21:51:37 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;]
i can be just your type of high There was no doubt in January's mind, as she swung her leg around to straddle the window ledge, that Mickey Keating was face deep in lady lumps - judging by the incessant thumping and moaning coming through the thin walls of their shared apartment. It was nights like these she had to constantly remind herself that living with her swinger-for-an-uncle was better than rooming with a stranger, in a cramped dorm. A small price, it was, that she had to pay. But, living here meant, she could easily come an go, never being questioned, not having to worry about advisors. Still, the fact that she could hear her own Uncle’s sexcapades from in her bedroom, barely a foot away, was a sure sign that if she went closer, it would only get louder and her gag reflex could only take so much torture. So, she went with her usual route - the one she’d taken so many times when Mick was sober. January bit down on the cigarette hanging from her lips in hopes of keeping it put. Unfortunately, it only broke it in half, sending a small, orange light down to the ground and causing her to sputter and spit out the remains, wiping her mouth in disgust.
With the most exaggerated sigh she could muster, Janey jumped down onto the fire escape of the third floor, tiptoed down the rusted stairs, and climbed the rest of the way down the screeching ladder, quite cat-like. Her feet touched the ground and she stomped out the cigarette butt, reluctantly. There was no use trying to salvage it, but it was such a waste. January twisted her face in thought, she had to remember where she put it - the satchel she hid with all her money. She circled thesmall tree at least fourteen times, digging through the bushes - an attempt at landscaping in New York - her frustration growing. Tilting her head back, and balling her fists, she groaned and rolled her eyes. She didn’t have time for this. So, patting the pocket of her jacket to ensure her phone was there, she made her way – stealthily – to the alleyway, hopped onto the garbage cans, and removed that loose brick in the structure. Her most secret, perfectly hidden stash. Something near fifty dollars, and her not-so-needed liscense (mostly, she used her student ID).
She tucked what she had in her pockets, smirking at her spy-like hideaways, then hopped down. A couple of boys, no doubt high schoolers, eyed her. She made a growling noise, and bit at them. The two teens, turning to each other, started to slump away - mumbling something about, "Chick's crazy." January laughed. She could only hope the pickings at the club, tonight, would be better than the schoolage nonsense in this neighborhood. With her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, Janey very near skipped down the avenue, thirteen blocks, until she was at the doors of the club. She didn't anticipate a line, not this long, it was only fortunate the bouncer owed her a favor - something about manhandling a couple of self-proclaimed studs three weeks prior, needless to say, they'd not be returning. She winked at him, with a, "Hey, Barry." and proceeded inside, not staying long enough to hear the groans and the reply from the buldging bodyguard.
Inside was packed, girls dressed up like it was Halloween - make-up smearing, hemlines rising. Though, January was in no position to talk. She stripped herself of her jacket and drapped it over her arm, looking for some sort of release - someone to drink with, a boy to dance with, anything. "The night is young, Janey." She mumbled, ""The night is young." |
[/size] [/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by elliot ren frey on Sept 10, 2012 17:19:11 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] stuck in her daydream, been this way since eighteen NOTES: er, yeah. OUTFIT: x elliot ren frey was never the lad to make plans. no, his rather flamboyant friends always seemed to have something going on whether it be a party or just a trip to the club, so he was utterly shocked when he was left with nothing to do. he sat alone in the small flat he had been able to rent right off the campus with some money he and his mother had been saving for years. not like they needed to, his mum had enough money to buy a whole city if she really wanted to, but she stayed put over in doncaster while his sisters continued to grow into the young women they were becoming. eli was dressed in only battered navy blue sweatpants and his chest and feet stayed bare. he had an old grey beanie, given to him by an old friend that he couldn't even remember, pulled tight over his messy hair so all the strands were slicked back away from his eyes. even if he had been invited somewhere that minute, he wouldn't even be ready and he'd have to decline. he wasn't going to go out looking like a bum, not only was that disgusting, it was completely embarrassing and elliot did not like to be embarrassed, but who did?
but, what if they did call? he didn't want to miss a great oppurtunity to go and get so shit-faced he could hardly walk, he always seemed to have the most fun when he was completely plastered. elliot could hook up with both men and women if he had enough booze in him, of course he'd always prefer the man considering he was gay, but if he had to settle for a creature of the female like, he'd deal with it. he was going to get laid either way, so he wasn't complaining too much. he scrambled up off the couch and his skin peeled off the leather couch his mum had gotten him for his past birthday since the couch he had bought himself was covered in puke, beer, and a lot of other things by that point. he dashed to the shower, pulling off his sweats on the way, and almost tripped as he pulled his foot out of the fabric. elliot tore down his boxers and stepped into steaming hot water and rubbed at himself vigorously. exactly fifteen minutes later, he deemed himself worthy to go out into public and he stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel both around his waist and hair. another thirty minutes later his hair was styled into a messy do that fluttered across his eyebrow and then to the side. sex hair, basically. finally, he pulled on some clothes. a tight button up baby blue shirt, black skinny jeans, and the nicest pair of shoes he could find. they were black lace-up things, similar to saddle shoes but no quite. they were comfy but also quite fashionable, something he enjoyed immensely. and then he waited, for an hour, and then two, another thirty minutes and he had given up tossing his phone onto the couch which an exasperated sigh. damnit, they had blew him off. he was already dressed though so he wasn't going to miss any time to go out. he left his flat swiftly, grabbing his keys on the way out and driving the small blue volvo he owned down to the nearest pub. his mum had wanted to get him a porsche, but he flat out denied because who the hell needs a damn porsche? he was a college student for gods sake, not a celebrity. ten minutes later and he arrived at some club that was rather packed, that meant there could be a good party inside. there was a long line outside, but some girls who apparently found him attractive just insisted that he go in with them, the people behind were not impressed by any means. eventually, they got inside and elliot lost the girls in the crowd of people. this was his thing, the dancing, the drinking. this was what he was good at, there was no confusion, no doubts, no second guessing. damn, he loved the clubs.
his first stop, of course, was the bar. |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|