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Post by NOAH ADIAN RAE on Oct 7, 2010 18:34:30 GMT -5
 ROADHOUSE, JASPER FALLS, ILLINOIS, MARCH 2011
So far this new life of Noah's was everything that he had ever asked for. Nobody was there to tell him what he had or hadn't done or to do. His whole life he had been controlled by others around him, fitting his whole being around other people to match their image of him. Always he had been the wonderful man, doing everything his parents or elders told him, hell, doing anything that anybody wanted him to do, no matter how inconvenient it would be to him. He had always been controlled in some form or another, whether it had firstly been his parents, and then secondly Carmen. Well no more. He was finally his own man.
For the first half of his life it, he had been controlled by his father. Oh don't get him wrong, he had adored the old man. He had given everything that Noah could have possible wanted at that time, money power, and women. Of course when he cut Noah's allowance and told him to smarten up, his love for his father almost disappeared and Noah wanted nothing to do with his family. He started telling Noah that he was going to be the end of the Peterman family. If only he had known how right he had actually been.
It was early evening, as Noah could see the last few rays of sun dip down beyond the horizon, and the diner/bar was into it's first few hours of service. Noah was at his usual place behind the bar, greeting and servicing guests with they're alcholic drug of choice. Usually the bar was full, but not tonight. It's was acutally pretty lazy so Noah just made do with cleaning up the bar area. At the moment he was wiping down the bar top with a damp cloth, but when he thought about his father, he stopped. If was because of his father that he had been able to have the actually few happy years of his life, which of course he had ruined.
A image flashed before his eyes and Noah took a shuddering breath. It wasn't just any image, but a memory from his past. One that he thought about way to often to be healthy. Sighing he picked up the wet cloth and tossed it into the sink behind him, listening to the wet soggy thunk it made against the metal appliance. With the cleaning of the bartop done, he turned his back on the door and started to put away a pile of glasses that had been stacked against the edge of the counter, clean and ready for use. Noah soon lost himself in the dull task, listening to the light chinks that each glass made against each other and falling back into the reution of thinking about that day along ago.
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'Red filled his vision. He couldn't see anything besides the colour that blinded him. It was like his senses had taken leave of him and had been replaced with something... newer. A newer and better version of himself had been planted into his head. It had something to do with what he had just went through, what he had just become... His mind couldn't focus. He couldn't breathe, but that didn't matter cause he didn't need to. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the fact that he was dead. He would never feel the heat of a blazing Texas day, would never feel the flush of heat to his cheeks when he asked for a dance from a woman, or the heat between two lovers as they moved as one. But that didn't matter.Noah didn't care.
From the moment he had opened his eyes, Noah knew that life was going to be different. He had been made for this. Everything just felt... right. It was the smells that had forced him to open his eyes. Thousands of different combitions of smells filled his nose, swiriling in a melody of glorious chaos. There were flowers, jasmine, sunflowers, roses, and tigerlillies. There were heaftier scents like pine wood and oak. When Noah had finally opened his eyes, he was on his back looking up. Everything seemed to be happening slowly as if each one of his senses were returning, mercfully giving him time to adjust to everything.
Then it hit him. The flaring pain in his stomach of pure hunger. When was the last time that he had eaten? For that matter, how long had he been asleep? He didn't remember much. Something about fire burning through his viens. Noah shivered and drew a breath. It felt akward to him, like he was forcing machinary to preform a job that it no longer needed to preform. His throat was dry and he couldn't help but whimper against the pain. All he wanted to do was curl up and shout.
He froze. Every muscle in his body froze, tensing. A noise could be heard. He hadn't noticed it at first, but now that he had heard it, it was the most important thing in the world. It took him a moment to place what it was. It was a powerful sound, almost slooshing as if a thick liquid was being forced through a valve. Ah. Heartbeats. Three of them. Two were smaller than the other one, but that suddenly didn't matter to Noah. Nothing did. As soon as he heard it, he could smell the blood. Red filled his vision. He was on his feet before he knew it, and his red eyes searched for the source of the heartbeats. Three figures were standing around in the next room. Blood was thick in their viens.
Noah crouched, a low hiss issuing from his mouth. A whimper was his response. He took a step forward, his body propelling him forward. He didn't recognize the faces, all he saw was the slight red colour underneath their skin. He didn't hear the small cry of " Daddy? What's happening?" from the small girl, all he heard was the blood pumping through their viens. It was all too much. One second later, there was a scream as Noah struck, pinning the woman to the wall with his body, his teeth sunk into her neck, a small boy pinned under his foot and the body of a small girl dangling from his hands.
It was a mere few moments before Noah became consious of himself. There was blood everywhere, but he was satisfied. For now. Sighing Noah opened his eyes, pulling hismelf away from his own personal bliss, and looked upon the horror that he had caused. Anabelle started at him from across the way, her head no longer attached to her shoulders. Noah cried out. What had done this?! What evil creation had killed his wife?! A small gurggling sound caught his attention and his gaze shifted to find his children, mangled and broken, their limbs spread around like broken dolls. His son was dead, missing a large part of his cheast cavity, but his little girl stared at him with large green, tear filled eyes. Her voice was small, but Noah was still able to hear it. "Wh-w-why dad-dadd-y?" Noah couldn't move. He was pinned to the spot. He watched helpless as his baby girl died infront of him. What monster did this?! He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. There was blood everywhere, over the ground, over his hands, all over....him. He did it. He killed them and drank their blood. And a sudden thought chilled him to the bone. He didn't care. Silently, blood trailing down his chin, Noah walked over the dead bodies of his family and out into the world, straight into Carmen's arms.
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Noah blinked coming back to reality as his eyes locked on the cabinet infront of him. Rubbing a hand over his head, Noah breathed in and turned around leaning against the bar top and crossing his arms. The memory didn't bother him, not even the fact that he had murdered his whole family and the whole town. No, the only thing that bothered him was the fact that he wasn't bothered. A shiver passed over his body as he moved to the liqour cabinet and poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels. It burned as it went down his throat, but it felt good. It burned almost enough to rival the thirst that pooled at the back of his throat. Wiping his mouth he turned around as he heard the door open and close. Putting on a smirk, he leaned on the bar as someone sat down across from him. "And what can I do for ya tonight?" His Texas accent was thick and heavy, a constant reminder that he was now on his own, and his own man.
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tag: open
words: 1459
notes: n/a
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Post by CALAMITY JANE TRAVESTY on Oct 8, 2010 11:57:37 GMT -5
don't cry to me
if you loved me
you would be here with me
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Just over two years had passed since Calamity had stumbled across Jasper Falls and fallen in love. Not with a person, because that would be detrimental to her in so many ways, but with the place, and with its atmosphere. Without really knowing why, she felt like she belonged here. She knew nothing of the other species, or even if there were more of her own, and she had no idea how to find out what people were. She knew that some smelled different, some sweet, some earthy, some delicate and floral, and some smelled kind of like her, with little differences. Being naive in the ways of the supernatural world, Calamity supposed it was all down to what perfume they preferred.
She had been wandering around all day, accessing all of her typical haunts with her usual grace and flair - when people couldn't see her, what was the point in being boring and conservative with her actions? Most of her places were in caves, or abandoned houses, or were in clearings in the woods, or on top of something that most people wouldn't think to climb, and it was quite hard work getting to them. That, of course, had been the point. If people thought it was too hard, they were less likely to bother trying. Solitude was something that Calamity liked and craved, but sometimes, she got a little bit sick of it. Today was one of those days. It felt like she hadn't spoken to anyone outside a professional capacity for weeks, and she realised with something akin to horror that she felt that way because it was true. She didn't even respond to shopkeepers' small talk, which was probably rude, but most of them would most likely assume that she was deaf or mute. Unless they were theater-goers.
It felt strange, not having people talk to her to try to work out what was going on in her life - her foster parents were always asking in an attempt to get her more involved in the family, and Simon and Gareth had constantly hounded her about other people that had looked at her, tried to hold her hand, said anything to her that was 'out of line', as if what they were doing to her was perfectly normal and accepted. She had learned not to tell them of the offers and advances that happened at school, even innocent eleven year olds asking if she wanted to go round to their house later. Invariably, the kid mentioned in the story would come to school in a cast of some sort, and completely ignore her when she tried to speak to them. More slowly than she should have, she made the connection and started to keep her mouth shut. She stopped talking about anything, for fear it would get someone else hurt or in trouble. Herself, she didn't care about so much. What else could they do to her that they hadn't already done?
Calamity threaded through the crowds of people on the street, oddly feeling better even just from the light, unintentional contact - a sleeve brushing her bare arm, someone jostling her, even being glared at didn't seem like a bad thing, really. There was a stereotypical moment on the street, when very few people were about, that Calamity and someone going the opposite way to her tried to move out of each others' way, and ended up stepping in front of each other. They ducked and dodged for a few seconds, and then stopped, looked at each other, and smiled shyly. The guy turned to the side and gestured for her to move ahead of him, and she spoke in a quiet almost-whisper, her voice having been totally unused up until that moment. "Thank you." She took two steps past him, then looked over her shoulder. He was smiling as if he had heard her, and touched his fingers to his forehead in a mock salute. Calamity's lips quirked up into a smile, and she hurried away before he tried to make proper conversation. She was always bad at small talk.
Because it was quite early in the evening, the bars were open, but there were no bouncers on the doors. The shops were all starting to close, apart from the grocery stores that stayed open late into the night, and sometimes until early morning, so there was no point her going to look at clothes or shoes, pretending that they interested her as they did most other young girls. She was relieved, really, because acting had never really been one of her strong points. Feeling rather like a naughty school girl (even though she hadn't been to school since she ran away from 'home'), she slipped into the next bar she came to, shocked by its emptiness. Even at seven in the evening, Calamity had always assumed that bars would be heaving with people wanting to get drunk, or to find someone to share their beds with. Apparently, that came a little later, even on a Friday night.
There were four people around a table, sharing a pitcher of something that was electric blue and probably insanely alcoholic. There was a couple in the corner, necking with a frantic energy, as if they couldn't wait to get to either one of their flats or houses to do the dirty. Calamity swallowed a lump that had come to her throat, and averted her eyes. She didn't want any reminder of what the two men had done to her. It was too early, and the pain was still too raw, much as she tried to hide and ignore it. A couple of people were spaced along the bar, and Calamity took the stool furthest away from them. The barman leaned over to her, and, instinctively, she leaned away, shifting her arms so he couldn't touch her. "Um, I'll just have a Coke, please?" It was supposed to be a statement, but when her voice rose at the end, she made it a question, and she cursed herself. She was probably going to get chucked out now. "Gotta drive home." She added, with more surety.
She took a breath as he moved away, and caught a whiff of something sweet and cloying. The smell caught at the back of her throat until she could almost taste it, and she coughed loudly, trying to dislodge the almost physical presence. The smell tickled her nose, almost made her want to sneeze, but she took a couple more deep breaths, and the feeling went away. Chewing the knuckle of her thumb, she covered her nose with her fingers, and the lingering smell lessened. Still, she wondered what could cause the smell, because it was way too strong for any perfume or cologne, and it only seemed to be noticeable when she was inside, and surely she should still be able to smell perfume when she was outside. Her sense of smell wasn't bad, after all, especially in other forms.
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word count: 1176 tag: noah outfit: clickersnotes: [/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by NOAH ADIAN RAE on Oct 8, 2010 15:43:05 GMT -5
Life, for Noah, was as close as perfect bliss as he could possibly ask for. That is, if Noah could recognize bliss when he saw it. Perfection and bliss were things that had never shown up on Noah's door, so he didn't believe they exsited. Try coming from the life that Noah had and say different. Of course he could have been wrong because the last time he thought that bliss existed, he had been a bloodthirsty animal, wiping small towns off the face of the planet and then making love with Carmen in their blood. Of course that bliss had ended and Noah had been thrown into the darkest years of his life. But if this wasn't bliss, then it definetly was something close to contemptment. Everything was going almost exactly the way that Noah could have hoped for at his age, or for what people thought was his age. Truth be told, Noah had enough money to by Hilters golden evaluator if he wanted. Having lived more than 150 years, he had come across more town treasure holds that was right and by ever means he could own all the worlds biggest corporations. But that wasn't Noah. There was no way in hell you could have ever gotten Noah to work a desk job. He didn't do suits and ties. Not even to mention all the ass kissing and water cooler moments. No, running a bar suited Noah just fine.
And he thought he did a damn fine job of it too. The Roadhouse was one of the finer establishments in Jasper Falls. Noah couldn't help but chuckle a little as he thought about the newspaper review the Roadhouse had gotten the other day. Reporters made everything sound so damn cheery all the time, it made him wonder if he were actually living in the real world, or some messed up version of the stepford wives were everyone was perfect and he was the only jack ass among them. That made Noah chuckle even more. The whole world were goody two shoes, and him being the only ass hole in the world. Some days that's what it felt like. Noah shrugged. He would just blame on his violent nature. Of course he was the monster that wiped out his whole entire family, not to mention his own community when he was first created.
When Noah had first opened up the Roadhouse, there had been almost next to no customers. Nobody trusted a newcomer who had decided to bring in chaos in liquid form . Everyone wanted simple and homely, preferably owned by someone they had known since the dawn of time. Noah wasn't either. He had shown up out of nowhere, and just bought the rights to the ground and started building. Even though he had been here for seven years, he was still an outsider, though he was still more accepted into the Jasper Falls community that he had even been anywhere else.
That had changed soon enough. People who were actually looking for a good time had finally started drifitng in and the Roadhouse had started getting buisness. Now Noah was a succesful bachelor, not to mention a new comer as well, and things were going great. Except for one thing. The lack of his natural diet. Blood. Since the day he had met Elanor he had given up on drinking human blood, being sick and tierd of killing everything that he wanted to get close to. He had been doing well too until he had come here. He had always had slip ups, killing animals to survive, but when he had first come here he had really screwed things up. Bethany Gable had been hiking and Noah came upon her calling for help. When he had found her, she was badly bleeding and Noah couldn't stop himself. Next thing he knew, she was dead, and the thirst would be contained for the next couple of days. But that had been the last drink he had. He couldn't risk the town finding out what he was. If there was one thing that he didn't want people to know, it was that he was the walking version of Dracula.
Putting away the glasses he had been cleaning, he watched a woman walk into the bar. The door swinging shut pushed the air in the room towards Noah, bringing with it, the womans scent. It was earthy, so Noah assumed that it was just the type of perfume that she was wearing. As he leaned forward, he made a mental note of her leaning away from him. Did he smell bad or something? Or was she one of those hygienic freaks? When she asked for a coke, Noah nodded and in less than a minute it was sitting in front of her. Walking away, Noah wiped down the counter when he heard the woman coughing, he watched her from the corner of his eye. Turning around, Noah walked back, and instead of leaning towards her, he leaned away from her, his back resting against the back of the bar. He crossed his arms and tilted his head. "You alright?" Despite years of him being a raging blood freak, Noah had learned how to deal with people. Part of the reason he was so attracted to blood was it's smell, so Noah stopped breathing. It wasn't like he needed to, but instead of actually breathing, he moved his chest up and down like he actually was breathing, while he waited for a answer.
Status: Done!
Tag: Calamity
Song: Broadsword, Jethro Tull
Words: 922
Notes:
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Post by CALAMITY JANE TRAVESTY on Oct 8, 2010 18:16:32 GMT -5
don't cry to me
if you loved me
you would be here with me
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Calamity didn't have too much to be happy about, truth be told. She still had the scars (mental, physical and emotional) that Simon, Gareth and cruel peers had inflicted on her, she lived in what she was pretty sure was a rat-infested hellhole, and her job didn't pay much more than peanuts. That was to be expected, though, because she had had it drilled into her so many times that she was worthless, useless, a waste of people's time, space, money and attention. Most natural and unnatural resources, actually, when it came down to it. She couldn't stand people touching her, and she might as well be mute for all the talking she did that wasn't related to her job. Even when she was working, she got away with the bare minimum, carefully choosing her words so she didn't reveal anything, didn't speak too much and raise a person's interest. Small talk was pretty much unbearable for her, unless the person she was talking to was too self-absorbed to realise that she wasn't offering anything to the conversation except the occasional gasp, or nod or shake of the head.
The only thing that she was happy about, truly happy about, was her mode of transport. It had been one of the first things she had done when she came to Jasper Falls - bought a motorcycle. She had always been told that it was dangerous, reckless, that she'd hurt herself. Ironically, by Gareth. Now, she just didn't care, and rode like the Devil himself was after her, even when she had nowhere to be. Right now, her bike was about two minutes away, just around the corner, waiting for her to collect it. It had been sat there most of the day, and thankfully it hadn't rained, although Calamity wouldn't much care if it had. A wet butt wasn't really much of a price to pay for speed and adrenaline, was it? Plus, it'd dry quickly enough once she got inside, if the crappy heating system didn't flake out on her again like that fateful night in the middle of winter last year.
Relieved that no-one seemed to notice her come in, didn't want to talk to her, or have anything much to do with her aside from an idle glance to see who the newcomer was, Callie settled into her seat, removed her jacket, and put her helmet on the bar, next to the wall. Her elbow touched it every so often, and it comforted her, knowing that at any time, she could just snatch it and run. Beneath her jacket, she was wearing a sleeveless black and white tunic, and her layered leather boots were worn over her skinny jeans, rising up to her knees. Her accessories were cool and monotonous, black and silver, original but somehow still typical for people her age. She folded her jacket onto her lap, and reached for the Coke. Big mistake. The lights over the bar to allow the people to see what they were serving or drinking glinted down, clearly showing the scars that ran up, down and across her arms. Some were circular, some superficial, some clearly deep. Some looked a lot older than others, whilst some were still in the process of healing. Yes, Calamity had gotten used to the pain, and sometimes needed it to tell herself that she could still feel something.
Cradling the drink to her chest, hoping that no-one had seen, Calamity took a tiny sip of the carbonated drink, nodding her head at the question. Him leaning away eased the smell somewhat, but she still had to smother another spate of coughing. Hastily taking another mouthful, Callie smiled. "Yeah, I'm good. Right as rain." With the phrase, her Louisiana origins showed through, and she grimaced. She tried as much as she could to bury that part of herself, but it seemed that no matter how far or fast she ran, she could never run away from who she really was. Trying to smother her accent, she spoke again. "Just a tickle." She explained, with a smile that said she was really anything but fine. In all honesty, she was lonely.
When she had left, living alone was almost a forbidden dream. She had expectations, and not a single one of them had been met. She had thought it would be fun, freeing, exciting, and a 'fuck you' to the care system. It wasn't. It was depressing, stressful, a hell of a lot of work and complaining, and quite frankly, it was lonely. She rarely had visitors, and when they came, they didn't stay long, appalled at her living conditions, but not enough to complain or offer to help. She was living in a three room bedsit with peeling walls, cracked ceiling, ratty (possibly literally, she was still trying to determine) furniture and sparse decoration. She kept it as clean as she could, but the yellowing paint cast a filthy film onto everything around it.
Before she could pull herself into a spiral of depression about her living quarters, the door of the bar swung open with force, and a large man stepped through the opening. He had broad shoulders, large muscles, and close cropped brown hair. He also seemed to have taken a shine to Calamity, coming to shows on the nights he knew she worked, just to see her. To reinforce her theory, he chose the stool right next to her, even though there were plenty of others he could have sat on without crowding her. Resisting the urge to slam her head into the bar, she forced a smile and greeted the man. "Good evening, Jeff." Feigning a look of surprise, he looked at her as if he didn't recognise her at first, then flashed what he thought was a charming smile (although it was much more akin to the smile a shark would give to a fish before devouring it whole). "Hi there, Mimi. Didn't know you'd be here." His tone implied that he had known exactly where she was, and that creeped her out even more than the horrible nickname he had given to her.
Cringing towards the wall as surreptitiously as she could, Calamity started to gulp her Coke. Jeff raised his eyebrow at the soft drink, and shook his head in distaste. Clearly, it was never too early for an alcoholic beverage. "Let me get you something a little stronger, babe."
[/color] He smirked, reaching for her glass. She jerked it out of the way, and sent a worried look to the man behind the bar. "No, no, it's fine. I'm d-driving." She squeaked, on edge, nervous, and eager to escape. However, he was blocking her in, and she couldn't go anywhere without touching him, and she was loathe to even brush past him if she could help it. Help, help, help. Her mind recited the same word again and again until she was sure that she was saying it out loud. ----------[/center] word count: 1157 tag: noah outfit: clickersnotes: [/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by NOAH ADIAN RAE on Oct 12, 2010 4:09:52 GMT -5
ROADHOUSE, JASPER FALLS, ILLINOIS, MARCH 2011 Noah had moved to Jasper Falls in order to escape the world that he had been brought into, and joyously lived in for the last two hundred odd years. He had done nothing more than travel across the world, kill and sleep around, and then potentially kill some more people. After sleeping around of course. Life had been a complete turn around for the originally quiet man. Noah had always been angry, but when Carmen turned him, all of his emotions ran wild and even the fires of hell couldn't match his temper. Originally, he had a temper, but he was patient enough to deal with it. Originally, Noah had had a wonderful life. At that time he hadn't realized it, but after some odd hundred years he had finally realized that. Of course it took him until almost one hundred fifty years for him to figure that out. He was probably one of the most experienced men in Jasper Falls, and yet he was completely slow when it came to realizing his own mistakes. And Noah, in his short immortal life time, had made more than a few.
The first mistake in a long line of mistakes to follow, was going into the bar where he met Carmen. As soon as he had laid eyes on her, he couldn't help himself. It wasn't the fact that she was a wealthy woman and obviously not from around that town of Mercy, but the fact that she was exotic. Carmen hadn't been American, but from somewhere completely different, like a goddess from some far away land come to live among mortals. Of course he hadn't realized at the time that she was compelling him to love her. Again he hadn't realized that until almost a hundred years later. The second one, was of course, sleeping with Carmen. It wasn't his fault, as again, she had been compelling him. If he hadn't met her, then none of this would have happened. Thousands of people wouldn't have died, Noah wouldn't have become a monster, and he wouldn't be contemplating on letting some random hunter take his life every day.
Everyday was becoming harder and harder for Noah to existence in the way that he wanted to. He had lived so long as a person who was driven by their instincts, following their every need, a slave to their body. Nothing more existed in his life that feeding, fucking, killing and feeding. Thousands and Thousands of gallons of blood had been drinking and more than a few hundred people hadn't even been drained, but tortured for the fun of it, tortured because they could be, because they were weaker than the vampire that Noah had become. And it wasn't just humans that he killed. There had been a time were Carmen and him experimented, feeding off of other vampires, and then killing them as well. He had done things which no one could imagine and created a name for himself as a ruthless killer, a monster even by vampire standards. And that monster threatened to explode within him every day. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that without blood in his system, he could see all the faces of everyone he had ever killed. Of course, blood would make them go away and he would fall back into his past life.
His new life in Jasper Falls was helping alot with that too. He had had a feeling that if he got to know the people within the town, became accepted in the community, he would be able to stop himself from feeding off of them. And so far, it was working. His emotions and feelings for the people around him were helping fight of the hunger that clawed at his belly. If the pain of the hunger got to unbearable, he could only sneak off into the woods and kill a deer or two. As far as everyone was concerned, and Noah was starting to think this too, he was just another member of the community inside Jasper Falls. And as any member of the community, he was supposed to help others when they were in need of it. It made him seem human.
And so as the girl that had ordered a coke answered his question, Noah nodded but didn't leave, knowing that something was wrong, but didn't ask any more questions about it. If she wanted to tell him, she would tell him. Noah knew that sometimes talking with a stranger would help. More than a few times Noah had gone into a random bar and started talking with people about his problems. Once he had talked with a eight year old girl and surprisingly she had given him on of the best pieces of advice he had ever heard. He wasn't a good talker, but by god, Noah could be a good listener. And so after a few seconds passed, he shrugged and picked up a dirty glass from behind him and started to clean it, using a rag that was sitting on the counter. If he stood still, the thirst would come to the foremost of his mind, and so he found that it was helpful to keep his hands busy.
Listening to the sounds of the bar around him, Noah sighed, hearing the door open and close. The air suddenly became charged and he caught a whiff of adrenaline in the air. Just perfect. After seven years the vampire had been able to tell who was going to be trouble and who wasn't when the walked through the door, just by their scents. Someone packed with Adrenaline was never a good sign. And so, as this man sat down next to the woman, Noah turned his back but watched out of the corner of his eye, waiting for something to happen. Hearing the woman's heartbeat jump up in tempo and her breathing quicken, Noah knew that it was time to intervene. Turning around, he leaned on the counter towards the man, locking gazes with him. With next to no blood in his system, he couldn't completely compel the man, but his next words would be taken as a very good suggestion. He flashed a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he looked at the man. "If your going to cause trouble, you should leave." His tone changed to dangerous. "I highly suggest you do so before I get pissed" His own accent, which was heavy, made the words seem unstable, and true to the idea behind them, the man nodded and left. Changing his personality slightly, Noah flashed the girl a smile and shrugged. "You always get one of those types in a night. I'm Noah by the way.
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status: done!
tagged: calamity
words: 1126
music: circle, eddie izzard
notes:sorry if it runs on in some places. i'm getting tired.
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Post by CALAMITY JANE TRAVESTY on Oct 12, 2010 7:24:29 GMT -5
don't cry to me
if you loved me
you would be here with me
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As soon as Jeff walked through the door, Calamity was immediately on the defensive. She put her drink on the bar (far enough away from him that he couldn't reach it easily) and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't like being looked at, didn't much like being paid attention to, and she definitely didn't like being propositioned (however surreptitiously he thought he was doing it) by someone that was probably about a decade older than her, and had a patch of white skin where his wedding band had prevented a tan. She wasn't stupid, and she certainly wasn't interested. Sadly, Jeff just seemed to think she was playing hard to get. What he needed to understand was that she wasn't just hard to get, she was damned impossible! At least, for him it was impossible. For everyone else, it was just a little less so. She still didn't completely trust people, men in particular, and certainly not men older and bigger than her. That didn't leave her with many options for friends, really, but she hadn't had a friend in so long that it barely mattered anyway.
Half of her drink was gone, and she was thinking about gulping the rest of it down, or just leaving the remainder on the bar just so she could claim to need the toilet, squeeze through the window, and run to her bike. And then never go back outside again. That, though, wouldn't really be a solution, but more a delaying tactic. He was still going to go after her, whether it was at work or a chance meeting in a grocery store. Lately, though, Callie was beginning to think that there were no chance meetings when it came to Jeff. I mean, what were the chances he was just going to pop into the Roadhouse for a drink five minutes after she had got there herself? The idea of him following her made her shudder, but she suppressed the motion, knowing that he'd assume she was cold, and offer a warm arm to wrap around her.
She was just about to attempt to slip off her stool and past Jeff when she noticed the barman approach them again. Intrigued, although she perhaps should have left so that Noah could have been more intimidating and made sure Jeff would never come back, Calamity stared at the bartender, shocked when Jeff didn't even put up a fight. He glanced at Callie as he reached the door, and mouthed a single word. 'Later', but didn't try anything untoward. He didn't even speak, which stunned her. Jeff always had to have the last word, even when the topic or conversation was nothing really to do with him. Breathing a sigh of relief, Callie took another sip of her Coke, making sure that her arms were angled in a way that only showed the more superficial cuts. She didn't want people worrying unnecessarily about her or, more importantly, informing Social Services or some such organization about her.
When Noah smiled, Callie couldn't help but return it. It was almost infectious, and surprisingly pleasant, although he had appeared to be furious and threatening just seconds before. Callie mirrored his shrug and shifted a little on her seat. "Yeah, I guess." She agreed. She knew nothing of what it was really like in a bar, especially in the evening. Perhaps she would stay and find out, if she thought she could get away with it. Probably not. She did, after all, look her age. Or so she thought. "I get him pretty much every day, though." She paused thoughtfully, wondering how much to tell him. "It's kinda creepy." She added, using one hand to spin the Coke glass around on the bar, forming concentric circles of moisture. "Noah?" She repeated, frowning a little as she tried to think where she had heard the name before. "Biblical." It came to her quickly. "That's cool. I have a worrying name." She had given it to herself, but that wasn't any kind of story, so she told people that her mother had given it to her.
"Calamity Jane." She held her hand over the bar for him to shake, momentarily forgetting about the illuminations that made her past so obvious. She made a face. "I know, I know. My mom was obsessed with the film, and she thought it was a cute name." She rolled her eyes, clearly in disagreement. "Not many people call me Calamity, though. Normally it's Callie or CJ. Dunno where Jeff got 'Mimi' from." She let her shudder rack through her body this time. "It's weird. Makes me feel like a poodle or something." Shrugging one shoulder, she finished off her Coke and contemplated the idea of another drink. Perhaps a stronger one to deal with the shock of Jeff's appearance and prompt dismissal. Not wanting to risk being thrown out or carded, though, Callie went for the safe option. "Same again?" She phrased the request as a question, and dug into her pocket for the right amount, scraping a scab on the back of her hand, opening up the sore, wincing as she felt blood seep into her jeans.
"Shit." She muttered, the first swear word of the day (a definite improvement on the previous day). Pulling her hand out of her pocket and discarding the assortment of coins on the bar, Callie dithered. Should she just ask for a wet cloth at the bar, or just go into the rest room and sort it out herself. After ten long seconds, she hopped off the tall bar stool and slipped into the bathroom. A couple of damp paper towels served good enough to staunch the bleeding enough that she knew she'd be fine in a few minutes and, although the bleeding had only slowed and not stopped, Callie went back to her seat, not wanting to leave her belongings unattended for too long. She grimaced as she tried to dab up the blood, but didn't make a sound. It didn't really hurt any more, it just felt really weird sticking things into an open cut, even if it was just to try to clean it.
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word count: 1054 tag: noah outfit: clickersnotes: nah, it's good ^_^ [/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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