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Post by alecsander lee devere on Feb 21, 2010 14:15:31 GMT -5
Goodbye, the future's sold out
There's no use screaming [/font][/center] Alec wasn't enjoying himself. Which was strange, as the current activity he was participating in - clubbing, that was - was meant to be something that boys his age found 'fun'. And that had been the purpose of this little outing - to have 'fun'. Of course, when he had been bullied into coming, the word 'fun' had been said with an obvious emphasis that hinted at a deeper - well, not deeper, but different - meaning. Alec had met the suggestion with a raised eyebrow, but the horde of hormonal teenage boys had managed to persuade him to come, in the end. And he was wishing he hadn't. One year prior, at just fifteen years old, Alec hadn't had any qualms with producing a fake ID - the best of the best, that got him into even the highest-profile nightclubs - and spending an hour or two drinking and flirting with some of the local girls before leading one - or two, as it happened sometimes - away somewhere where he....well, yes. The point had been made. Now though, in roughly the same setting with roughly the same targets, Alec just wanted to get out. They had come as a group of about five or six of them guys, and had chatted for a bit before slowly filtering through the crowd. Eventually, Alec had been left on his lonesome, which was normally something he appreciated, as talking to girls was made so much more difficult by other guys breathing down your neck trying to see how you 'did it'.
And Alec had tried flirting - he really had. Obviously the girls in California were too airheaded - probably being exposed to the sun for too long - to realize that he was uncomfortable, because they had been practically throwing themselves at him for the entire night. Sometimes literally. Honestly - how many times did they think the "oops, sorry for bumping into you! I'm Brittany" act would work? Especially when they tried it on you twice. Alec couldn't help but wonder if that poor girl - Missy, was her name? - had ever finished high school. Or elementary school. Or if she was going to do anything else with her life other than live in her parents' house until they kicked her out and go clubbing while trying to search for a rich man to marry so that she could be financially secure without having to actually work. Poor Missy. But the girls - an onslaught of totally fake Bridgets, Ashleys and Kellys - generally served to irritate him. Sure, he smiled charmingly, sweet-talked them until they swooned, whispered lines of Shakespeare into their ears while they giggled, but he always excused himself once it got too much for him. He just couldn't.
After shoving away yet another bleach-blond, tanned Californian girl, Alec made his way through the crowd towards the bar. The steady throb of the music was making his head ache. He needed a drink. Alec slid himself into an empty seat, trying to avoid looking too morose. "An absinthe martini, please. One olive." The bartender blinked at him for a moment, before asking him if he "weren't a bit young". Alec only glared in response. Less than a minute later, the drink was set down in front of him with a soft 'clink' that was drowned out by the constant hum of the music. He needed to get drunk. And really drunk. Or at least drunk enough that he'd have a killer hangover in the morning, and over time build up a negative psychological association with clubbing. Alec took a sip of the drink, letting the liquid sear down his throat. He could take his alcohol like a pro, which although benefited him at times, now meant that he was going to have to sit here for a hell of a long time. Alec sighed, shaking his head towards a brunette who was looking at him interestedly. It was going to be a long night indeed. And that began to make him anxious. Alec took another sip of the martini. His main goal was to forget where he was, that he had even agreed to leave the sanctity of his dorm for this.
The source of most of his anxiety was a certain girl by the name of Bright Ivanova. Their 'moment' had only been a few nights ago, but it still made his gut twist whenever he thought of it. And because he remembered every single second of that evening, Alec couldn't do it. He couldn't flirt with other girls, he couldn't even look at them the way he used to. And so he had absolutely no idea why he would ever come along on something like this, where there was only the one obvious goal in mind. Alec was fairly sure that the boys he had arrived with - mostly seniors with a junior or two - had already scouted out the girls they wanted for the moment, and he doubted that he'd be leaving with them. No matter. The bartender would - or should, anyway - call him a cab to take him back most of the way to Norrington. He was an expert at sneaking back into school drunk. Alec was finally beginning to feel better about himself - the absinthe was burning down his throat at a steady rate, and he had a feeling that soon enough, his head would start to fog and all the negative emotions would go away. What he wasn't prepared for, though, was to see a blond head of hair heading vaguely in his direction.
He knew that hair. It was the nearly-white, shaggy-as-a-sheep-dog hair that belonged to the one and only Vivienne Devere. His first instinct was to hide, but Alec knew that there was no place to do so, and it would only end in him looking stupid. No way he was going to look stupid in front of that. The relaxed, though slightly bored sensation that had been brewing inside Alec was suddenly gone, replaced with intense hostility and resentment. Vivienne had a talent for that. His jaw clenched, before he managed to turn back to the bar and take another sip of his drink, praying the girl wouldn't notice him. It was unlikely of course. Wherever Vivienne was, confrontation always followed. And whenever Alec and her were in the same vicinity, it had a tendency to follow a hell of a lot faster.
TAG; viv!
NOTES; sorry it's long! don't worry about matching it. I probably won't.
LYRICS; our lady peace
WORDS; one zero seven eight
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Post by vivienne ainsley devere on Feb 21, 2010 16:12:48 GMT -5
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- you’re probably gonna start a fight [/font] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/center] Vivienne was blessed with the good fortune of looking older than she actually was. It made life easier for her on so many levels: guys wanted to date her because they thought she was new meat instead of fresh meat, a junior who’d just moved in from out of town rather than one of the wide-eyed freshies who’d only just arrived on high school turf at the beginning of the semester. Bouncers were less likely to expect that her fake ID was just that, because she actually looked like she could be a young looking twenty-one year old instead of a level-headed fourteen year old who couldn’t even legally earn a temporary driver’s license.
This good fortune came in handy other times, of course, but at the current moment those were the only two advantages that were being put into play. The animated seniors girls crowded around her gossiping about who was dating who assumed that she was only nodding politely because she didn’t know who so-and-so was and why it was such a big deal that he’d hooked up with what’s-her-name at last week’s party. They blamed her lack of interest on a lack of knowledge. A curse, she had to admit, that came with having hair so blond that it ended up looking white in just about any form of light. They never even thought that maybe she knew exactly who they were talking about as they sobered up and quieted down to hand the bouncer their fake IDs. The thought that she’d been going to school with half these girls since she started her education never crossed their bleached blond, bubblegum biting brains.
The bouncer, now with a handful of IDs and a grim expression on his mug, looked from each ID to the person that it belonged to and supposedly described accurately. His deep-set eyes fell on her, and she gave him a look as if to say “what are you waiting for? We don’t have all night.” Apparently, this particular bouncer had seen enough twenty-one year olds impatiently waiting to get drunk that he knew not to mess with one- even if she was only five feet, four inches tall and breaking her in half with his pinky looked like a completely legit was to dispose of her as a problem.
IDs were handed back, the velvet rope unclipped to let them through and re-clipped to prevent the next batch of clubbers from sneaking in before they’d been verified as old enough to enter.
Once inside the club, acid greens, toxic purples, electric blues and fiery reds, oranges and yellows mercilessly assaulted her eyes. There really was no need for that right when you walk in the door, she thought bitterly, blinking rapidly to try and soothe her retinas after the stimulation overload. The blinding lighting combined with the heavy bass of the song telling everyone to “still the night, kill the lights, feel it under your skin” was giving her a headache. It felt like, for every sharp beat that resonated under the soles of her boots, a seven inch long spike stiletto was slowly being pressed into her temples. It was like God knew that she was too young to be there, and by way of a punishment was spoiling her fun by pretending that her brain was a corkboard and the tempo behind the feminine singer’s voice was His cue to tack some new bit of information into her mind. You should be in your dorm. You’re too young to be here. You’re too sober to enjoy this because really, it just isn’t your thing to go clubbing.
She decided that God was right. Well, on one account: she was too sober to enjoy this. The thrill of breaking the rules had worn off, leaving her standing just aside of the entrance questioning her motives of even coming to a club. Vivienne hated clubs, after all; in her mind, they were simply a gathering place for any and all horny high school and collage aged youths, placed on the planet simply to make it easier to find someone whose pants you could get into.
Just as she was about to turn and head back, her gaze stumbled upon a familiar looking figure. Curiosity getting the better of her, the blond picked her way through the cluster of grinding bodies who, if asked, would all claim to be dancing. (To a ballerina who’d only ceased dancing a year ago because it conflicted with her student government schedule, this was the biggest bullshit in the world.)
As she approached the bar, the brooding face that she knew as none other than Alec’s turned back to pretend that he hadn’t seen her. A grin tugged at her lips, demanding that they compliantly turn up at the corners into a sinister smile worthy of only the most hell-bent thoughts in her head. Surely her brother wasn’t enjoying himself- he was alone at a club! Her appearance in the same vicinity as him had obviously turned his bad night into his worst nightmares of hell. There was no way that she was going to disappoint his ideals that she was the spawn of Satan, in no conceivable way sharing the same genetics as him.
“Alec!” she exclaimed, falsely sweet as she sauntered over and sat on the previously unoccupied stool to his left. “I had no idea that you were going to be here tonight!” With an elbow resting on the edge of the bar, she propped her chin in the palm of her hand, fingers curling up to partially hide the Cheshire cat worthy grin that just wouldn’t play along with the charming façade. She had no doubt that her eyes were sparkling in just the right way to let him know that, had she had prior knowledge that he was going to be at this bar tonight, she would’ve shown up sooner to make his night horrible.
tagged: alec/ izzy!
word count: nine ninety-two
lyrics: *NSYNC
notes: oh yeah, I went boy band on the lyrics
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Post by alecsander lee devere on Feb 21, 2010 21:24:27 GMT -5
Goodbye, the future's sold out
There's no use screaming [/font][/center] It wasn't fair. That was the thought that flickered through Alec's mind. Once. Then again, and then again. It wasn't fair. But what wasn't fair, he wondered. That he had been left alone to drink at the bar? That Vivienne was here, too, and quite obviously heading towards him? But no. It was the fact that Vivienne existed at all. Alec gripped his glass harder, focusing his eyes on its contents. He had set it down again, and so the translucent liquid was still swishing about, gently lapping at the edges of the thin glass like water along a sandy shore. Rising before falling back again, causing small, almost invisible ripples to appear on its surface. The liquid was impossibly green - so much so that Alec wondered how it could even exist in this mortal world. The absinthe was ethereal, seeming to give off a faint green glow. He wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. For all he knew, the drink might very well be radioactive. It had a high enough alcohol content to know just about anyone out, at least. He tried to keep his gaze fixed on his drink, trying to ignore the blond that was now sauntering - excitedly, it seemed - towards him. It didn't work. He could feel her presence getting closer, which, unsurprisingly enough, coincided with the bile that was rising in his throat. He swallowed it down, before slipping his fingers around the martini glass and bringing it to his lips. The idea of Vivienne made him want to get drunk, just so he wouldn't remember the encounter. Alec downed the remaining absinthe in the glass, closing his eyes for a moment as the liquid burned furiously down his throat. He set the glass down hard. "Another," he muttered to the bartender, who raised an eyebrow, but went to prepare the drink anyway. Alec knew that he was going to need it.
He couldn't keep the slight twitch out of his eyelid as the blond demon seated herself just to his left. Vivienne was close. Too close. Had she been all the way on the other side of the world, or exiled to Australia for the rest of her life like the British did in the olden days, she still would have been far too close. In fact, Alec doubted that Vivienne would ever be far enough away from him until she was dead. At which point in time she'd be sent to hell - not heaven, she was far too horrible for heaven. But then...Alec himself was probably going to hell as well. Damn it all. Why did she have to be everywhere all the time? Hell, why couldn't she just have never been born? It was a question that he'd never asked her to her face, nor was it one that he ever would. As if Vivienne would care what he thought. As if she had the capacity to do so. He doubted that Vivienne, who he didn't deem exactly human, possessed the basic skills needed to care.
"Alec!" The sound of his name, which was something he generally got used to, didn't mind hearing - was absolutely captivated by when Bright said it - made him want to puke. But he suppressed the feelings of nausea. He knew that there was no way he could simply ignore her presence. His jaw was working, clenching and unclenching in vast irritation. Vivienne's voice was sugary sweet, the opposite of her personality, in his opinion. It made his fingers, which had previously been drumming against the surface of the bar as he awaited his drink, turned to clenching the edge. He didn't care if Vivienne saw. Alec didn't suspect that Vivienne knew how much he hated her - he knew without a doubt that she was aware of it. He was also fairly sure that she returned the feelings. “I had no idea that you were going to be here tonight!” Alec managed to keep his expression fairly void of emotion, but his fingers clenched even tighter around the edge of the bar, his knuckles turning white. Did she have to speak to him?
And then his drink, at long last, was set down before him, the green liquid sloshing slightly with the movement, although it didn't splash over top of the rim of the glass. Alec swept it up in his hand in one fluid motion, and brought it to his lips, taking a sip and relishing the almost painful searing sensation. He turned to face Vivienne, a polite and obviously fake smile upon his face. "Vivienne, dearest. I must say - I hadn't expected you either." Naturally, he hadn't. After all, he normally did his best to ignore the fact that Vivienne had been born - early, as though to attempt to squeeze in an extra month of making him angry - and then survived - solely to antagonize him. He turned his head to the bartender. "A drink, for the lady?" he called to the bartender, his french accent evident in his voice. Alec flashed a sickly-sweet smile towards Vivienne. It was obvious that he thought her far from constituting a lady. "And what would you like, sister dear?" Sure, ordering alcohol for his fourteen-year-old sister was wrong on several levels, but he figured that she'd probably have procured some for herself anyway. If Vivienne was going to annoy him like this, he was going to try and make sure that they both got drunk.
TAG; viv!
NOTES;
LYRICS; our lady peace
WORDS; nine one six
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Post by vivienne ainsley devere on Feb 28, 2010 14:29:29 GMT -5
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- you’re probably gonna start a fight [/font] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/center] The term “dearest” caught her off guard. In the split millisecond before his next words left his mouth and reached her ears, her mind turned over all options that could motivate her brother to use a form of endearment when talking to her. She was Alec’s little nightmare, after all. He didn’t bother acknowledging her unless a) there was something in it for him, or b) she started the exchange.
Viv’s first thought was that he much be wasted, that there was so much alcohol swishing around in his system that it had sloshed the ability to recognize people right out of him. As amusing as it would be to go on being whoever he thought she was, it worried her - yes, she had the emotional capacity to worry - that there could be an alcoholic dose strong enough to make him bonkers. She’d learned that Alec had a ridiculously high tolerance for booze. The only dosage that should effect him was one strong enough to rot his liver and kill him.
He unknowingly calmed this fear when he spoke again and triggered her brain into remembering that he’d preceded “dearest” with her name. And that he wasn’t slurring his words into a fucked up mess.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as a new suspicion brewed within the confines of her mind. If he wasn’t drunk, then he must be plotting something. Deny it as often as he might, she and Alec were related. He shared her petty “everything’s about me” attitude to some degree. However slight that degree might be, she had no doubt that he was putting on a caring brother front for someone’s benefit. Making himself look better in front of complete strangers was totally something that he would do.
Then he threw her off her axis again by asking what she’d like to drink. She knew that he knew that she was completely under-aged and therefore shouldn’t even be inside this building, let alone drinking alcohol. In fact, he probably knew how old she was to the minute; he’d probably been keeping a tally of just how long she’d been ruining his life simply by existing on the face of this earth. His sudden civility towards her was making the “Alec is so drunk that his internal organs have started a revolution and left” theory seem more and more likely.
“I’ll have a Blue Hawaiian,” Vivienne said slowly, her head turned toward the bartender but her eyes fixing Alec with a cautious look. At this point, she didn’t mind giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he was confusing her. He’d broken their routine by acting pleasant while their parents weren’t even around to coo at how nice it was that the two of them were getting along. That was like always turning right on your way to class and then one day out of the blue swerving left just to screw with everyone’s minds. The whole time that the bartender was mixing her drink, she kept waiting for her brother to pipe up with the tidbit of information that she was seven years away from being allowed to drink what was being made for her. When the rum, Blue Curacao, pineapple juice and cream of coconut were poured into the blender with ice, she kept imagining Alec’s voice calmly starting “By the way…”
It was quite obvious that she was being paranoid. So paranoid, in fact, that she nearly jumped out of her seat when the clink of glass on countertop sounded right in front of her. She politely smiled her thanks like her mother had taught her, plucking the cherry out of the slushy ocean settled within the martini glass. After popping the cherry into her mouth and tasting the bite of the rum on her tongue, she regarded Alec with a lazy smile. It was time to calm the heck down, she decided.
“Let me guess,” she said after the ten seconds of tension filled silence that felt like an eternity. “Someone either convinced or bullied you to come. Because, honestly, I would never have guessed that you - of all people - would come here - of all places.” Vivienne paused, picking up her bluer than chlorine treated pool water drink and taking a sip. “I mean, you never struck me as a clubbing sort of guy.”
tagged: alec/ izzy!
word count: seven twenty-five
lyrics: *NSYNC “bye bye bye”
notes: -shot for failing epicly-
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Post by alecsander lee devere on Mar 3, 2010 17:12:24 GMT -5
Goodbye, the future's sold out
There's no use screaming [/font][/center] Alec was perfectly capable of acting the refined, responsible and gentlemanly adolescent, but even so, it was just that - an act. He didn't care for other people, except for what they could do for him, and Alec supposed that that made him a bad person. He used people. He saw what he wanted in them and he took it and left them hanging. But still, he managed to do so with grace, with poise, subtly and cleverly in ways that very few people ever found out that they had been played. It was like a game, almost. A game at which he had become very adept. And, as it happened, a game he'd grown rather fond of. The human psyche was one of the most mysterious and unpredictable things in existence, and attempting to decipher it or the very least use it for his own ends was normally surprisingly easy. As though people had been reared to be the perfect targets for manipulation from more advanced, intelligent beings. Obviously, though, that wasn't exactly true. But Alec much preferred to be in control of the situation at all times, and found that this was easiest done when you had established superiority.
With Vivienne, however, Alec wanted nothing more than to drink until he forgot his own name - no, his own gender - and block the entire encounter from his mind forever, furiously denying anything should anyone bring up the matter again. His eyes flickered from her clothing to that god-awful hair of hers, remarking mentally that if he had been absolutely piss-drunk, he could have justified puking on her. Sadly, though, he was quite obviously dead-sober, and besides; vomiting in public - especially on someone - was utterly humiliating, and Vivienne, the little devil spawn, would probably puke right back. She was that horrible, she was. And so Alec simply watched in silence, fingers dancing along the rim of his glass, as Vivienne ordered her drink - one of those ridiculous little fruity cocktail things. Alec probably wouldn't have said anything even if she started doing shots with random biker-gang members and dancing half-naked on the bar - which was unlikely, since places like this had standards - but he wondered if he should. He himself was underage, too. Not by the same margins as Vivienne, of course - who, for all intents and purposes shouldn't even be able to order an alcoholic drink with as much composure as she just had, given her age - but even so, denouncing his baby sister was liable to get him in trouble too. He doubted that Vivienne would go down without a fight. He knew he wouldn't.
And then suddenly, he registered that Vivienne was speaking. Although to anyone else, hers wasn't a necessarily unpleasant voice, Alec found it wholly disgusting. It was like even more proof that she existed on this earth and was here to stay, at least until she died, anyway. Alec hoped that day would be soon. And at her funeral, he imagined, he would shed a few tears, appearing as though he were struggling to appear strong, perhaps hug his mother's shoulders, keep his head bowed, provide an emotional eulogy and speak so haltingly that he'd have to step away before the little spiel was even half done to go hide somewhere among the church pews where some distant relative would later find him and go recount the incident to her immediate family and then all her little friends who would twitter over it at High Tea. But enough for contemplating the aftermath of his sister's death. Now, in the present, she was here - in front of him, drinking alcohol - and an immediate problem. “I mean, you never struck me as a clubbing sort of guy.”
Alec didn't particularly want to answer her - in fact, he'd have preferred her to have never lived, and so be incapable of asking questions at all. For a split second, as he smiled gently in return to her words, Alec contemplated tossing in a comment about the vivid colouration of her drink, before realizing that although her drink was bluer than he figured healthy, his own seemed to glow with an iridescent green light. Okay. So maybe neither of them were exactly for the traditional gin and tonic. He thought better of mentioning it. Alec tilted his head, eyes blazing into Vivienne's - although he desperately wanted to look away - and quirking an aristocratic eyebrow, a politely amused expression upon his face. "Fancy that. And you always struck me as a clubbing sort of girl." It would be quite easy for Vivienne to take that as an insult. He hoped she would. It wasn't that Alec was looking for confrontation, he was just...not avoiding it. Alec brought his drink back up to his lips, taking a slightly larger sip. He had a feeling that he'd be leaving from this club tonight a little worse for wear. He paused, pursing his lips as he took in the sight of the girl before him. No. He'd probably be leaving a lot worse for wear.
TAGS; viv!
NOTES; sorry for the rambling...
LYRICS; our lady peace
WORDS; eight five four
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