He couldn't help but feel a little jealous as Emily hugged her friend. He didn't want them noticing, though, so he focused more on Emily's song and started playing the bridge intently. He wasn't using his bass, just his acoustic at the moment.
There was no denying his ability, even on an unseen song, he was playing note-perfect. His expression was slightly off at times, but only slightly. Another practice or two would see mastery of the song, in all probability.
Andy stopped playing after a while, and looked around at the others with a smile, "Alright then, how're we going to do this? Do you guys want me playing guitar or bass for this practice, and are we going to do Emily's song, or one of Carlie's?"
He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt. - Yossarian, Catch-22
Wide-eyed stupid.
If you're gonna rule the world, you've gotta get up early! - Joel S. Dickens
Styler Wayne was not always Styler Wayne. He wore a great many face. Depending on the day he could anyone but he chose a few favorites: Brock Borderman, an influential Color diplomat, Seth Langsly, a gothic skater punk, Peter Mayhew, a techie with a knack for clever lighting, and lastly, one of whom he felt an extreme bond, was the exceptionally nerdy scientist boy, Teddy McCalvin. These were his guises; each a separate being. And Teddy was his chosen personality for tonights job.
With a deep breath his guise puffed out his measly chest and let his knuckles rap three distinct and deliberate times. After that he knew it was just patience; she would be here. He showed the typical signs of extreme nervousness: sweaty palms, fidgety behavior, and lastly he felt something inside him trying to escape through the back of his throat. He tried to swallow it back down but it wouldn't go.
A hazy figure slowly came to view through the doors' small opaque glass windows. He gulped again and hurried through his check list: Collar straight? Yep. Buttons buttoned? Yep. Belt buckled? Yep. And lastly.. was his zipper scared of hights? Nah. It was a trooper.
A questioning face of an aged man appeared as the door was pulled open. He wore a pair of small frame spectacles and looked as though the slightest breeze may seriously cripple him. Reflexively, Styler considered three different ways of killing him. But he wasn't the target.
“Uh... hello?” said the small man on the other side of the door.
“Hi... I was told to come by.” After a sidelong glance his guise held up the Chemisty Concepts book in his hand, “I-I-I'm the tutor, sir.”
The old man considered the boy for a second by scrunching up his face up till like a prune and lifting his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “Whats your name?” he said in an soft but strained tone almost too high pitched for a man.
“Teddy, sir. Teddy McCalvin.”
The man paused again, as if mentally verifying this newfound information. “Teddy McCalvin,” he murmured.
“Yes sir.”
“I've read a few of your papers.”
“Oh? A-and...”
“... and its crap. It sounds smart but its crap.”
Styler tried not to let himself bleed through his guise and full on deck the man. His urge came out as a wince.
“Sir... I-I-I really really try.”
“You're only seventeen kid. Relax. One day you'll learn that your high school education is all government funded bull and you don't know anything about anything,” the man said with a smile and stepped aside for the boy to enter.
His guise and himself let out a relieved breath at the same time. He returned the smile and stepped inside the doorway into a quaint little living room. The house was furnished in old, wooden furniture and this dull brown flowery wall paper. The smell was of fresh popuri from the glass bowl sitting on the coffee table in front of the old fashioned television set with rabbit ears. Styler nearly choked but played it off by lifting a handkerchief from his pocket to his nose and sneezing heavily.
“Her room is just up the stairs, first door on the right, “ said the man, “Scarlett should be here soon.”
Sam's grin illuminated the grim crowd of goths as she slid into a dimly lit bathroom.Locking the door she took notice of the random graffiti was scrawled over most of the available surface but Sam wasn't paying attention to what it said she was busy with her part time job of screwing people over. Honestly, she felt bad half the time but today she was with the Gothic Intelligence agency so she shook it off. She dawned her lolita dress which was a dull black, it's white ruffles underneath made it look like a thundercloud swallowing a precious white one. She laced up her knee high combat boots that made her grow two inches all the while she placed her long brown hair into two separate pigtails. Did I mention she did this in less than normal thespian time?
Sam smudged the lipstick expertly without a mirror as she walked out and back into the dreary gothic district streets of Trayton, she wasn't smiling now, her grim demeanor blending into the crowd. She expertly maneuvered to the residential district a few old goths eyes wandered to the sight of her bust which was was now displayed by the corset she had borrowed from a friendly goth, she ignored the glances and continued not to smile. Her eyes were trained ahead until her eyes caught a familiar voice in the air. She glanced around and trained her eyes on a "nerd" entering a home, She stopped in her path and started walking towards the house. It wasn't her nature to screw with others missions and she wouldn't screw Styler's but she just had to see what he was doing here or in another's words, his Teddy was doing here. She smiled as the old man let her in.
"hi I'm with Teddy, it'll be quick" She smiled and ran up the stairs, she felt his eyes look her up and down but she wasn't caring.
"First door on the left!" he called behind her and later mumbled, "What is with these rude kids these days?"
She took a deep breath and opened the old oak door, it creaked and Styler spun from his position. His eyes trained on Sam face and he sighed.
"What on earth are you doing here?" he sighed again and calmly took off his glasses, returning Sam's gaze.
"Bout to ask you the same mate," Sam smiled innocently at him.
The one who smiles the most has something to hide.
..i'm lonely...message me..some how add me on your social networking site (unless you are some creepy weirdo who stalks girls for their organ harvesting company..i personally like them inside of me thankyou )
Adrenaline pumped through his veins as his white knuckled hand gripped a pencil from his shit pocket, and he whirled around to face his pursuer. In the same motion, his nerves calmed and he merely placed the pencil carefully away in one cool motion as if he had never intended to stab anyone through the eye. Teddy was gone behind those cold steel grey eyes. He knew Sam; they had done work together on some drug bust months ago, set up and paid for by the Colours. He lowered his glasses to wash them off in his handkerchief.
“What on earth are you doing here?” he said with a slow breath out to relieve his frustration.
“Bout to ask you the same mate,” the girl smiled sweetly.
His eyes regarded her in the same monotone expression. Styler wasn't one to be interrupted and he found her antics to be asinine and frustrating. Yet, he still remained serene.
“Work, Sam. What else?”
Her eyebrow arched as she made herself even more comfortable by settling down on the black sheets of Scarletts queen size bed. Leg folded over leg in an old nineteen fifties film noir classy dame fashion to complete the look she batted her eyes innocently at him. “Reeaallly?” she skeptically drew out, “Why do I find that impossible to believe, Sty? So, please. Enlighten me.”
His nostrils flared once as his eyes drifted slowly away, “I have no idea what you're talking about. Its business, Sam. Nothing more.”
“Business?” She laughed,” Please, Styler. Spare me. Who would hire you to kill Scarlett? And more than that why would you ever think she would be stupid enough to walk right in here? She knows you just as well as I do. She knows your style.”
He swallowed hard, hand slowly unsnapping the first two buttons of his collar. Fingers swooped through his neatly parted jet black hair. He knew exactly why he had been so sloppy about this. He knew why he had to give Scarlett a change to run. But he knew that Sam could never know why. He flashed her a grin as his hand drifted to the back of his neck.
As he lied to her about his wild, passionate romance he was having with Scarlett his eyes never left hers. Through Sams face he drifted into his own thoughts, to earlier today, to when Agresta gave him his job. He never wanted it. Why would he? Scarlett was the best. Scarlett taught him everything he knew. Scarlett was Agrestas' love child. How could she now want the girl dead.
Money. It all came down to money. Scarlett had been cutting deals behind Agreasta's back and she didn't like it. Wanted her rightful cut, she explained. Stylers ultimatum was then set. Either do the job, get paid, and move on, or get a bounty placed on his own head.
But above all else, he did it because he cared for her. He did it because he would make it quick. Scarlett made lots of enimies, that was no lie, whoever else would make sure she suffered.
Styler owed Scarlett his life. So he now would take hers.
* i guess i won't drop this yet, if you all will have me back that is*
Shuan:
Shuan drew back his fist poised to crush the skaters face but then stop himself. His heart was pounding blood threw his system so fast he could feel his skin plusating. his throat was dry, his head hurt and so much of him just wanted to get even for this attack, but he couldn't he didn't want this.
Sure I could beat this skater with in an inch of his life but what good will that do? tomorrow three more would come looking for me and then six preps would go after them and so on. This will never end unless we all stop this. His thoughts flowed through him and filled him with a purpose he had never wanted this war but now he knew that he could end it.
He pulled himself off of the skate and looked down at him, seeing him clearly for the first time he saw a scared freshmen that was just trying to make a name for himself. " This is over," Shuan whispered " go back and tell you friends that you won." the kid look confused by this. Shuan glanced around the class room that they were in and saw that there were only three people in the room anyway. "hit me I'll go down, then leave." Shuan whispered again in the kids ear. without another thought the skater swung hard connecting at Shaun's jaw line. The time falling to the ground seemed more like minutes than seconds to Shuan and when he did hit the ground he was glade to just lay there as the kid ran off. his thoughts now were not on the amount of flak that he would receive from the other preps, or how the cheerleaders would look at him with disdain not even on the fact that this would give the Goths a rallying point and make them stronger, NO right now he just thought of the girl he had saved earlier and how beautiful her eyes were. He could have stayed lost in that thought of hours but he was being shaken to consciousness and he had to act as though he was really out.
"You okay?" Luke said looking down at him." what happened?"
"Wha.. uh... I am.." he muttered as he stood and then collapsed again. he may have never been a thespian but that didn't mean he didn't want to be. " I am okay, one of them just got me with a lucky shot." Shuan stammered shaking his head.
"lets go kick there..." Luke started
"No, I just need to get home. I need to just sleep it off." Shuan said clearly now.
"I guess your right but tomorrow, they are ours." Luke said smiling.
Shuan also grinned because things would be changing more tomorrow than Luke could ever imagine, maybe not at first but It will happen.
Oh his way home he decided that he would stop by the burger bar because he knew that is where a lot of the rockers and thespians liked to hand out. There weren't very many people there but he did see a girl in the corner sitting alone.
" Excuse me," Shuan said in the nicest voice he could...
**I know that I just left off abruptly sorry but I am going some where with this**
"How about we use both mine and Emily's work?" Carlie says. "I think it would be better if there is more than one song writer."
"Well who's song should we use first?" Alex said, leaning forward with is his arms resting on his knees.
"I don't really care, I like Emily's song from what I heard, and Alex and I can pick it up where you left off," She smiled at Alex and nodded to his returning smile.
"Okay, let's get started," Alex twirled a drum stick around his fingers while he got up and walked over to the drum set in the back of the room.
Carlie picked up her guitar and made sure that it was in tune and when it was perfect she looked back up at Emily and Andy. "Are you guys going to join us or are you going to fill us in on the rhythm and chords?"
*sorry it's so short, but I wanted to make sure you guys were okay with it*
Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole. -Dean, Supernatural
Description: Fairly short, about 5', with long curly red hair and intense blue eyes. She's skinny, with a dancer's build. Very active.
Personality: Generally a happy person, but can sometimes slip into a darker side. Gets along well with pretty much everyone, but can easily find her enemies as well.
Sam looked at Styler over, what was he planning? He looked like his mental feathers were completely ruffled and Sam hadn't done anything to help with that.
"Come on Sty you know you want to let it out some time," She lept from her spot on the bed landing in front of him with a short and soft pat.
"Money, money money.." She tsked, "It all comes down to money.."
Sty looked at her coldly, she paced in front of him her boots making thumps as she walked. "You don't have to meet everyone's expectations just because they give you money. If you ignore them once and they come back later asking you for help, you will get more money," She sighed, "Because that's your little ego being petted Sty."
"But," He started and was interrupted by Sam's flow of thoughts.
"If you ignore them, they will come back to you as stray dogs. They will offer you the best of the best because they know that your the best."
Styler looked at Sam crookedly and sighed again.
"Think about what I said," At that she walked back out of the room and into the street.
*Someone want to come meet her? Lets get EVERYONE involved!*
The one who smiles the most has something to hide.
..i'm lonely...message me..some how add me on your social networking site (unless you are some creepy weirdo who stalks girls for their organ harvesting company..i personally like them inside of me thankyou )
Description: A well dressed, Italian businessman with long dark black hair and a fiendish smile. Deals in getting the dirty work done for the Colors. Guns, wet works, drugs, cetera, its his gig.
Personality: A man who respects the power of a given 'word'. He will treat you until you have mistreated him. Biz is biz so don't get in his way.
I'm going to pick up with you john if thats okay
“Excuse me,” Shuan said sweetly.
Cold hard hands fell onto his shoulders like sandbags over a tent peg. Suddenly he could feel the cool minty fresh voice as it spoke softly in his ear, “Hey. Shawnnie.”
“Gawda moment, Shawnnie?” a less fresh and deeper second voice said.
Marco and Perry. Muscles, bravado and dim wits but loyal. They were pack dogs on the hunt and Shaun could feel the saliva dripping down his neck.
“Uhmm, sure guys,” Shaun said, unsure if he really meant it.
He hadn't another choice, however. They gripped him firmly by the arms and took him outside. Marco, the skinnier of the two (but by no means lithe) continued on in his ear as they moved, “What the hell you been thinkin, Shawnnie? Helpin out some little goth bitch?”
Shaun swallowed. His eyes darted about. Outside the restaurant now he was in a plain street in the middle of the night. No traffic. No lights. His only hope? The girl in knee high boots clicking her heels across an empty road.
that a good entrance for you too, sam?
It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information.
- Oscar Wilde
Damn myself for having such bad directional skills!
Sam walked down the empty street, she was late for her assignment and her employers wouldn't be too happy about that. Her boots clicked against the pavement and her lolita dress fluttered in the little wind there was. Fed up with the cat calls of Goths and Colors alike she had taken a side residential street that she was apparently lost on. All she had to do was find the king pin guy, her new "boss" and he apparently was supposed to be found around this specific area today. She walked alone and it was starting to get dark, Sam's stomach growl broke the silence as she walked alone on the paved avenue.
The growl was followed by a couple of voices and rasps. She wondered what was going on and sped up like an idiot. She caught the man's pleading stare and picked up her combat boots to a casual glide.
"Hey boys!" Sam waved.
"Hey.." The big one said, the scrawny one hit him.
"I'm a walking billboard for Dark Ally Lolita Shop," She leaned in to a whisper the guy's eyes bulged out of their sockets at the sight of her even more exposed cleavage, "As you know all models are for sale themselves."
"Really?" The big guy got punched in the stomach.
"Better get there! I am already gone."
The men raced off, well the scrawny one was dragged by the oaf.
"Nice one," The Italian noted, "Antonio Lombardi at your service."
Oh the luck
"Oh what a coincidence! I'm Maria Chalona, your new personal secretary." She tried to control her smile as the best gift of luck was bestowed upon her. The colors government hired her because she "fit the standards" to work along with this guy; the ability to handle blood and she wasn't "ugly".
"So they can't trust me huh?"
"It looks like it, but don't worry I can keep secrets," She put her finger over her lips.
*sorry it is bad quality because i am multi tasking on a lit assignment...*
Last edited by lizzifer on Fri Apr 17, 2009 1:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
The one who smiles the most has something to hide.
..i'm lonely...message me..some how add me on your social networking site (unless you are some creepy weirdo who stalks girls for their organ harvesting company..i personally like them inside of me thankyou )
He stared into her eyes and told her that he always loved her. He stared into her eyes and said he will always care. Her body remained silently laying on the frigid wood floor. Hands trembling as he stared at them with a lunatics gaze. A few deep breaths, he thought as he pulled back, a few deep breaths will get you thinking straight. With that assurance he inhaled deeply. But his breath only caught memories; they flooded into his head like a whiling pool and only one hard fact resounded in his mind:
Scarlett Kenning's bounty had risen to twenty thousand dollars cash for a cold corpse and he could not refuse to accept.
The rubbing squeal of an antique door lifted his gaze to meet her serene blue eyes. He remained as stoic as a brick wall perched leisurely on the edge of her bed.
“You came?” he said with only a tinge of the surprise he actually felt.
She smoothed the elegant red dress against her quivering body. “I know why you're here.”
His eyes drifted wayward, out to the blue black sky. “Do you?”
“I knew they would send you. Agresta will always prove she's number one in your world.”
He didn't respond. He never lied to her.
“Damnit, Styler,” she moved toward him. He cautiously shifted in his seat. “Don't do this.” Soft, pale, hand brushed his cheek and her head swooped so her eyes could grip his. “Remember the other night underneath the moons pale light?”
“Where stars shine and feel divine,” he continued with her, in a hushed tone,”...after the eve of a lovers first kiss.”
Scarlett brought him tightly against her body. He pressed his nose to her hair and breathed in product. Her plump red lips left little circlets of chill skin in their path across his neck and jaw. His body trembled like he'd just stepped into a icy lake. Instantly his lips met hers and his fingers wrapped around the back of her head. She pulled away briefly to smile. He mentally took a picture.
The smile melted into a raging stark fear as she felt the steel of a silenced .45 leveled with her stomach.
He stared into her eyes and told her that he never loved her. He stared into her eyes and told her that he never cared.
The word, 'no' never spoke so loudly to him again.
A moments reminisce passed over him as he stepped out from the theatre exit of Trenton High School. He stuffed a fat wad of cash into his wallet as he briskly made his way home.
"Listen buddy i need something now. I don't care what caliber it is as long as it will put down any unwanted visitors." I shouted at the shopkeeper.
"Hey calm down kid. Try isle three." I walked over to the third isle and began looking at the array of handguns behind their glass screens. Finally i saw what i wanted.
"Hey, how much would it be for a pair of these Heckler and Koch USP Compact Tacticals and a couple of mags?" i asked.
"500 for the pistols and another 100 for four mags."
"I'll take them." I slapped 600 in twentys down on the counter, collected the gear and left. Ever since the deaths had started i'd been really spooked. Two guns, one for me and one for Mac. No way was i going to let him die and i didn't plan on dying anytime soon.
I have looked into the eye of the storm and stared it down. I am an adrenaline junky and i know no fear.
Antonio pat Shaun on the shoulder with a hard slap and grinned a boomerang shaped grin. He loved a clever ploy to rid his moronic henchmen. Drawing a line across his jawline with his finger and thumb he stared a few moments longer at the perky young girl in front of him. His new watchdog, he mused, she could be handy.
“Maria,” he said, extending his hand, “Pleasure. This here is Shaun. My other personal associate. Please. Step this way. We'll speak in private.”
He gestured down an alleyway, placing his hands in the pockets of his pinstriped suit, and walked without a backwards glance away from the two. Respect told them to follow, however it was their choice. He continued speaking as he walked. He said a lot and left no place for anyone to interject.
“I have a lot of things to do so lets make this snappy, right? Shaun, I hear you been messing around with some little Goth girl. Name ah Zetra? Honestly? I could give a crap. A man should be allowed to go where he wants, right? But if the Council starts barking down my neck I start biting, capice? So, end it.”
He approached his luxury sedan and clicked the automatic door lock on his keychain. The car responded compliantly.
“Maria. You're to make CERTAIN he does. He even so much as looks at her with lovey dovey puppy eyes you stab her. Hear me? Good.”
He swung his feet into the car and slammed his door shut. The next instant he was rolling it down, between his finger and thumb he held a disc, “Shaun. You owe me for talking to the Council on your behalf. So, after you handle the girl I want you to handle something else for me. You and Maria. Its all on the disc, you'll understand.”
With that he tossed the disc from the window to whomever to catch it and sped off into the dark street.
It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information.
- Oscar Wilde
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