|
Post by clarissa lucille o'bryant on Sept 2, 2009 17:15:02 GMT -5
It had taken her a good three hours of wavering back and forth before she had finally come to the conclusion that she should -- or at the very least, would -- find her way to the Fire Festival. While she had heard several mentions of it in the last few days since her arrival back into what had once been her hometown, she would have had to admit, if she was one for such things, that it was the unspoken comments in regards to the event that had finally weighed in favor of her attendance.
The rumors of the building's history had carried a good amount of weight, the belief that the house had once been a meeting place of the infamous Hellfire Club had certainly served to pique her curiosity. Fais ce que tu voudras. Do what thou wilt... an interesting enough philosophy, one that Clarissa considered equally frivolous and justified, depending on her mood. Rumored to have been supplicants of the devil, with Satan himself as the Headmaster of sorts of the elitist club, any members or sections of the club having long since gone underground, the mention of the name itself was enough to raise any number of dark and sinuous images to people's minds... even some to the point of blushing at the images in their own mind. She wasn't sure how much faith she put in the lingering belief, but... there was something, some tugging at the pit of her stomach, a tingle at the nape of her neck, that seemed to agree that it was at least looking into.
What was the worst that could happen, she had mused, she meets a few of the kids somewhere around her age that might or might not prove of interest, and work on getting more of the introductions out of the way. So many people thought of Dublin as some small, quaint town, so few realized that there was over a million and a half people occupied the great dublin territory that covered almost seven thousand kilometers. If it had been otherwise, people like her mother would have long since gone out of business, burgeoning business that dealt with the influx of ignorant Yankees and snobbish Brits looking to find the treasure at the end of a rainbow, or the leprechaun under a four leaf clover.
The thought caused her to snort, shaking her head as she crouches at the outer edges of the clearing that hosted the bonfire, the small of her back and her hips resting against a trunk of one of the worn, slowly dying trees that lingered in the peripheral of the house. They'd be as likely to find a leprechaun here as she would be to pull a golden egg out of the chicken roost, she mused, her cigarette drawn up to her lips, a long drag taken from the filterless tip, letting her gaze turn up and wander over the crowd that danced and sat around the blaze.
Still, the timing of the festival this week had not escaped her notice either, relating to the celebration of Bealtaine, and the thought brought a slight smile to pale lips as a slow breath escapes, drifts of smoke accompanying the motion. The progression of spring to summer, once worshiped by dancers who stripped themselves to fur and paint, if that, and induced visions by the imbibing of mass quantities of hallucinogens and alcohol. But that was so... tribal, and primitive, and the human race had come so far, right? She offers a faint smirk, as her gaze travels along the bits and pieces of clothes cast aside, the tangled limbs of would-be lovers and dancing forms writhing in the flicker of flame and shadows. Right.
She let her weight shift, bringing her back to rest against the trunk behind her, the feel of the bark pressing against shoulder blades bringing some sense of reality to what could easily be a disorienting scene, even crouched, as far away as she could get from the chaos that surrounded the house and the bonfire she could feel the ecstasy, the rippling aura of chaos that spun in a slow vortex. Her hand falls, sliding into the back pocket of her shorts, slipping out the small silver flask and popping off the lid with her thumb, a swift, small swallow of the brandy within taken, burning its way past her lips and to coil in the base of her stomach. Strangely enough, it was the cloud of alcohol that seemed to be the only thing that could dampen the thoughts and impressions that pressed against her own when such an energy, such numbers were in one place, and she again questioned why she was here.
She hadn't made much in the way of introductions, and rather than even trying to join into the celebrations or explore the house that had garnished her curiosity, she had instead slipped away to the farthest area that could still be counted as 'present and accounted for'. Yet... here she was, in all her reclusive glory.
--------------------------------- music:mad world by tears for fears | outfit | word count:867 | tagged:come one, come all!
|
|
|
Post by edward anthony cullen on Sept 13, 2009 22:27:51 GMT -5
* You can kiss it good-bye there's no such thing as sympathy. , [/color] When the disease is entering, At first glance your instinct says this stranger's a little dangerous. The cat was killed from curious thrills. Now Christ has left the manger.
[/center] Cause you can't, you can't, you can't kill me that easily.*
- - - - - - - - - - - -
[/size][/center] [/blockquote] A smile formed across Edward's face as he peered down from his and Bella's window at the two figures that were walking away, one of them being Alice and the other being Bella. He wasn't quite sure where they were going, but he couldn't help but grin at the sight of his favorite "sister" and his beloved wife, especially his beloved wife. Now that Bella was a vampire, she managed to put up with Alice and her adventures of shopping and making Bella be her mannequin, not that Edward minded seeing Bella and different outfits, some being more appeasing than others. Taking hold of the window, Edward closed them with a snap and turned his back to it. It had plenty of time to kill before Alice and Bella returned. Taking a few steps over to his overfilled bookcase, he pulled a book off from the shelf and flipped through the pages, not finding anything particularly interesting about it. With a sigh, Edward returned the book and exited the bedroom that he shared with Bella. He couldn't hear anyone in the house, which apparently now days this was too common. He was used to going downstairs or to the next room and hearing Emmett and Rose or Esme and Carlisle, but it didn't seem like that anymore. They were either off doing their own thing or they were with the Galloways, something Edward wasn't all too thrilled about and he couldn't exactly figure out why - yet. Edward had visited with them a few times, his family was very fond of them which was understandable since they were very much like the Cullens. But still, Edward had a hard time reading their thoughts and when he would, it wouldn't be something he was too fond of either. After walking through various rooms in the quiet and empty house, Edward finally settled into the kitchen that was never used. With Bella being a vampire now, they had really no use for a kitchen, but it was there for obvious reasons anyway. Glancing over at the fridge, Edward saw a piece of paper that read something of some kind of festival. He had heard Alice talk about this before and other people throughout the town. Maybe it would be interesting and time killing? It was hard to be apart from Bella, even for the shortest amount of time. People found this strange, though he knew that others of his kind would understand sometimes a few humans could as well. Edward pulled the paper off of the fridge and held it in his hand and with a smirk he dropped it onto the counter and left the kitchen, only to head back to his bedroom where he and Bella stayed. He didn't take too much time as he changed into a dark grey button down t-shirt with a white undershirt and jeans and left a note for Bella, if she were to come back before he returned. It read, "My love,
I've gone to the Fire Festival, if you return before I get back, you should try to join me. Be safe.
love you always, Edward" And with one last flick of the pen, Edward turned and left the quiet Cullen abode. He wasn't sure if he would recognize anyone, maybe another vampire like himself would be at the festival, maybe they wouldn't. To be perfectly honest, Edward knew little about this festival, but from what his sister had said it was something worth at least checking out. Edward knew that it wasn't too far away so it was pointless to take the car and with his speed, he could travel faster than he would in the car. Turning down the road, he began to walk towards the destination of the festival. The smell of bark burning and ashes filled Edward's nostrils as he slipped through the trees, the sight of flames catching his attention. There were several people down in the festival and a few stranglers that were roaming through the forest on the outer parts of the fire. Taking a step forward, he noticed a female that was sitting in front of a tree, the smell of tobacco filled the surroundings as he stared at her for a moment or two before he finally came into view and glanced down at the girl and then back up at the flames that were further away. "Interesting, isn't it?" He asked with a smirk. - - - - - - - - - - - -
[/size][/center]
status: complete! word count: 955. tagged: Clarissa! notes: notta, zip, zilch. template by: me, myself, and I. lyrics: russian roulette by 10 years.
[/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by clarissa lucille o'bryant on Sept 14, 2009 16:11:06 GMT -5
A second, longer pull off of the flask had been taken before the top was flipped back into place, her thumb pressing hard against the top to make sure that it was actually secure before she shifted to let the flask find its way back into her back pocket, tucking it away as she settled back against the trunk, letting her head fall back to rest against it as well as she raised her cigarette to her lips once more.
It was the sound of his voice that alerted her first, to his presence, a half breath taken in as she took the drag from her cigarette, her gaze slipping from the others that danced and lingered closer to the fire, to follow the liquid satin voice to its source, while not letting her surprise show upon her features. It was not often that she actually got snuck up on, but he had moved without hardly more than a whisper of sound to his steps, and rather than just loose and random thoughts, there was merely a low kind of... buzz that emanated from him, that she had written off, apparently, as nothing more than an insect, or some such. The outer edge of one brow slants upwards, slightly, at both his appearance, as she took a moment to study him, the clothes that fit him with an air of familiarity and comfortableness, the smooth and ivory skin tone... the second such that she had seen in as many days, in point of fact, the thought drawing the smallest hint of a frown to her lips, though she forces the thought away hastily. The whole point of this exercise in futility had been to distract herself, after all. And in a more.. overall study, he had little in common with the source of her distraction and irritation, obviously; he was younger, his hair shorter and almost curly, his features more ... refined, delicate almost, but not exactly effeminate. And his eyes, rather than blood red were a softer hue, a golden color that seemed to catch and reflect the flames in an almost... hypnotizing manner.
Still, it was only a half a moment before her assessment was complete, and she offers a wan smile in return to his smirk, her gaze pulled from him, and thrown back towards the fire and the revelers, the cigarette tugged from the corner of her lips and a slow and steady stream of blue-purple smoke escaping from the corners of her mouth. "I suppose you could call it that." She says, her accent revealing her as Irish, though with just the occasional burr or softness to a consonant than those of Dublin itself. "I hadn't really planned on coming, to be honest. I'm not really... " A slight smirk, her chin tilting upwards as she look up towards the taller, and standing figure. "I'm not really much of a people person, most times. I figured I could make a ... once-a-year exception." She adds, dryly, one corner of her lip quirking higher than the other.
"I was just thinking on the irony, the... mockery, almost, of such celebrations like this in regards to our so-called evolution. Here we are, in the age of technological wonder and miracles, and here... here we are, beating on drums, and making relative... " A slight pause, a chuckle, a small shake of her head. "Apes," She says, looking back towards the people around the fire once more. "Of ourselves. Yes, I suppose you could most certainly call it interesting. Or myself, jaded, if you prefer, either one works, in the end."
--------------------------------- music:mad world by tears for fears | outfit | word count: 625 | tagged:edward! oocnote: a little on the short side, will try and ramp it up as the scene develops!
|
|