|
|
Post by sasha on Jun 7, 2010 11:09:07 GMT -5
Elissa's head remained against the ledge of the pool, using her arm as a cushion. At this point, she was in too much pain to move. Now, she'd had plenty of bad hangovers over the years, but what she was feeling now was worse than all of them combined. What was happening? She knew Faustus was behind it, but how? The bartender definitely didn't drug her, because then everyone else would be acting as she was. As much as she wanted to think about what happened, thinking itself began to hurt. She had to get out of the pool, but she couldn't move. If she fell unconscious, she'd most likely drown. Oh, what a conundrum. She'd call for help, but her throat was dry. Shit. I knew I shouldn't have come here...((Sorry that was so short. If anyone wants to save poor Ms. Purcell, feel free.)) |
|
|
|
Post by queenmab on Jun 17, 2010 15:32:35 GMT -5
Mercutio suddenly felt inexplicably confused. Finally, he was starting to come down from his rush, and he was hit with an onslaught of different feelings and they weren't exactly pleasant ones. Here was this tattered stranger before him, who resembled that of an abnormally large rat. It was disturbing and upsetting to say the least - why was this vermin at the good Capulet celebration? What had he possibly done to deserve an invitation? Perhaps he had snuck in through the sewers or the pipes...if he could possibly fit in them. Wouldn't that be something? "I'm fucking Mercutio Facetia, just who the fuck are you?" he shot back egocentrically, puffing out his chest proudly as he glared at him. Mercutio completely ignored the fact that Nina was still standing close by, and he was immune to her horror at the fact that she had indeed bumped into someone who had just revealed who she truly was. It had went completely over his twisted head, fortunately for her. Nina could rejoice in the fact that her cover wasn't as blown as she thought it was, now if only she could keep her act up. She was screaming now, raging mad. Mercutio finally directed his attention to her, but he could not really understand for sure what she was saying. He heard the words she said...but they just didn't really fit properly. Her voice howled, melancholy like a swan's cry alone on the water in the dead of night. It was the saddest sound...how dare this stranger wound her this way? "Good King of Rats, crawl back to your chamber and leave us be! Let her alone!" he pleaded, his wide, disoriented eyes reflecting intense anger. He hadn't even felt it when she released his hand, but it didn't really matter, as he snatched it again and turned, breaking into a fast sprint in his panic to move as far away from the rat king as possible. He had no destination or shelter in mind, for his mind was still unwinding. ((I hope you don't mind that I had him take off. He's off cause of the drugs. Let me know if you guys wanted more conflict or want something differently to happen.)) |
|
|
|
Post by fagin on Jun 17, 2010 22:14:16 GMT -5
:Costume:
www.flickr.com/photos/41533634@N02/4542540663/Find me in the pool area/ Then back on the front lawnsTo say that Mister Fagin Esquire was worried would, at this point, be an understatement. Not only had he accidentally unveiled Eponine's true identity (which she appeared to have been hiding) but she in turn was accusing him of doing exactly what he'd been planning to do. If the posh bloke got a word of what Eponine said, Fagin got the impression it wouldn't end well for him. The older man shrank back a little at Eponine's continued screeches, biting his lip. He really wanted to apologize; he hadn't the slightest clue what was happening, how was he to know what alias she'd planned to use, or even that she'd be here, but Eponine wasn't really giving him a chance to get a word in edgeways. At last Eponine seemed to run out of steam. Fagin opened his mouth as if to make his apology or at least attempt some sort of explanation, when the well to do gentleman rudely enquired who he was. Fagin was used to such language in the lower classes, but he'd always had the comfortable misconception that those with more money were generally more polite. Fagin wasn't about to admit to the man who he really was, but then Eponine had said his name several times over. But only a few moments after the man's first enquiry he posed another, rendering the first, at least in Fagin's mind, of little consequence were it not to be answered. "Good King of Rats, crawl back to your chamber and leave us be! Let her alone!"Fagin was stunned. King of Rats? What on Earth was this man blabbering on about? Maybe he was a tad too fond of the gin... "Er..." he said, glancing from Eponine to this Mercutio fellow and back again, eyes wide. "I...um...I think that...yes...that would all be for the best..." It was clear to Fagin that coming to the Capulet Ball had been a big mistake. All ideas of stealing cutlery and getting anything out of the evening forgotten, as Mercutio and Eponine took off again, Fagin too backed away, though not at such great speed, back towards the front lawns. Now how to get a taxi from here? Exit Fagin (ooc: Randi, Sarah, I hope that's OK with you guys. =) Sorry nothing much happened there. =/)
|
|
|
|
Post by ÉPONINE THÉNARDIER on Jun 21, 2010 13:37:33 GMT -5
:Costume:Dress | MaskShe is unmasked. Find me in the pool area.
Éponine was angry. Of course, she spent most of her life angry, but this was different from her usual anger. This emotion was fury mixed with heartbreak. For the first time in a long time, she had allowed herself to get optimistic. For once in her life she had thought for sure that she's seen the light at the end of the tunnel. She'd thought she'd seen a way out of her miserable existence that did not involve death. If she could make enough acquaintances, maybe they'd lend her some money and give her a leg up out of poverty. She knew it was manipulative, but that was the way she had to be. She would be stupid if she didn't try to take advantage of being here tonight. She had tried not to let herself get carried away with the fantasies, but she'd realized that she accidentally had. She knew that no one was going to give her a "Get Out of Hell Free" card, but a little bit of philanthropy wouldn't be so much to ask. Well, she could hope for that at least. A little bit of philanthropy would mean that she wouldn't have to sleep under bridges. She wouldn't have to strip down and allow some older man with heavy pockets to grope her just for the chance to buy some bread the next day. Just a little bit of good fortune could free her from all of these injustices.
The funny - or ironic - thing about the whole evening was that Éponine actually didn't mind being around Mercutio. She even sort of liked him, to the point where she felt bad for lying to him. Sure, she found him really obnoxious because he was high, but since he'd begun coming down, she could se something charming about him. There was no denying that he was attractive, too. And when he'd put his hand in her hair, she'd felt a tremor that was pleasant, not frightening. It also seemed that he was attracted to her, too, and not in a lustful way. Éponine had never had any boy be attracted to her for any honest reason. She'd never been beautiful, only sexy. It made her feel dirty, like she wasn't even human. Mercutio didn't make her feel like that. Could she see herself ever talking to him after tonight? No, not unless some miracle occurred. But it was nice to be thought of as a lady instead of a whore-bitch-slut for a change.
That's way she was in a complete rage. Fagin had come and ruined everything for her. Deep down she knew it wasn't Fagin's fault, but it was just easiest for her to take it all out on him. After all, the Thénardier rage was something Fagin had been exposed to before. Éponine inherited it from not one, but both of her parents. If anything, her temper was even more volatile than either of her parents' tempers. Claude tended to be the quiet but deadly one, and Simonette, when she had been alive, had been the loud one. Éponine had inherited her father's sharp tongue and her mother's volume. Poor Fagin. He had really gotten an earful. Still, she couldn't help but feel that ranting in such an unladylike fashion had certainly made her feel better.
Once she'd run out of steam, she stood there panting like a caged tiger. Then Mercutio had chimed in, and Éponine stared at him incredulously. King of Rats? on any other day, she would have laughed her guts out at that, becuase Fagin actually did resemble a rat in a way. However, at the moment, Éponine's sense of humor wasn't exactly on fire. She was even less amused when Mercutio seized her hand and dragged her away from the shadows where Fagin was hiding. When she looked back, she couldn't even see his outline anymore. He was good at slipping away like that. That was what had made him so valuable to her father's gang. She glared at Mercutio, practically spitting fire as she tried to voice her protests. As much as she wanted to escape, she did not like to be manhandled!
"'Ey!" Éponine exclaimed, digging her heels into the ground until they'd come to a stop. She looked small, but she had some strength behind her. Years of being dragged around by her father and various other people had given her that much. However, the high heels she was wearing had helped. "Listen 'ere, Merc! Nobody and no one 'auls me around like some luggage!" She jerked her wrist from his grip angrily. She took a deep breath and tried to control herself to speak more clearly. He obviously hadn't understood any part of her angry rant a few moments before. That might work in her favor, but she still needed to explain away some certain things. She was too exhausted to keep lying. She would only tell him a little, though. He might not hate her if she only told him a little. "If 'e's ze king of ze rats, zen I'm ze dauphine of ze rats. Zat zere's my Uncle Fagin. I stay wiz 'im when I gots no where else ta go, which is almost all ze time, since my dad's in prison." She sighed. Her stomach was beginning to hurt. Maybe it was a combination of eating too much at Romeo's place and getting so stressed out now. She'd told him enough. For all he knew, her dad was in prison for successfully launching a Ponzi scheme, not assault and battery and attempted kidnapping. It was obvious that Fagin wasn't well off, but that didn't necessarily reflect on her. It was doubtful, but maybe the evening could still be savaged. Éponine just had to pray that Mercutio was still high enough to buy it.
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by queenmab on Jul 2, 2010 18:51:16 GMT -5
((Alright, so this is his coming down from ecstacy. He's still feeling really touchy-feely and "connected" with Eponine right now, but with the addition of feeling drowsy. Btw, they're behind a wall or something, so they're hidden out of plain sight.)) As soon as that rat's face has left his line of vision, Mercutio was filled with a sense of calm once more. Their surroundings were whizzing by them and it reminded him of being on a spinning ride at an amusement park, glued to your standing position due to the weight of gravity. He felt that pleasant fluttery sensation in his chest, the air compassing him from all around as he spun with great speed. It lasted for a mere few moments before the pull of the lady he had been towing behind him became strong, and he was forced to stop running. Had she been someone else, he might've felt a tad melancholic as that liberating sensation he had just been enjoying slipped away. Her voice was raised as it had been before which meant that she was still angered. Mercutio looked upon Éponine's face with a gentle gaze. His eyes were no longer sharp and intense, but bright with adoration. He was taken by how large and deep her eyes were, like a tiger's, and suddenly tempted to pounce on her and feel every inch of her skin against his. No, it was a desire far different from penetration and the feasting of meat - it was the desire to drown in her tender warmth and her soft hair. How could a creature so delicate posses such passion? It was both fascinating and befuddling to him, and he wanted to remain by her side so that he could discover more. "Nina...or Éponine...whichever you b’ named..." he said quietly, still staring at her, entranced. "I’ll stay where y’ are tonight.” Without much of a thought, Mercutio lightly traced the tips of his fingers from her shoulders down to her wrists as he swayed slowly where they stood. He had just given a promise to stay with her and maybe even take her to his home, since the Rat King had vanished. Mercutio could hear the slow sound of the music flowing over to where they stood. It fuelled him to move. “Dance with me…” he mumbled near breathlessly. He brought his face closer to hers and wrapped an arm around her, his hand groping down the curve of her back until it rested on her hip. It was more of a touch-fest than any sort of dance Mercutio had learned, but the effects of the drug were still there however much faded they were, and his drive to connect and feel like he was a part of it all was inspired whenever he looked at her. |
|
|
|
Post by ÉPONINE THÉNARDIER on Jul 13, 2010 14:34:49 GMT -5
:Costume:Dress | MaskShe is unmasked. Find me in the pool area.
Whatever reaction Éponine had expected from Mercutio, this was not it. She had expected a reaction similar to the one that she got from most people. The expressions on their faces, which might at first have been friendly, were quickly turned into disgust, revulsion, and outrage. Though they had previously been hunky-dory with her, they were suddenly repulsed by the thought of touching her again. It was like Éponine's circumstances covered her in a permanent coating of slime that was only visible in certain lights. That's why Éponine spent most of her time in the shadows. Shadows would not reveal the true nature of her filth, and those who were also in the shadows were not likely to pass judgment on someone as dirty as themselves. Creeping out of the shadows into the light of the Capulet Manor had been a risky move, and Éponine should have known that the light would reveal her secrets.
However, this could have gone a lot worse. When she had made that botched attempt to tell Mercutio the truth and yet still maintain some level of secrecy, she had expected him to push her away after learning that she sometimes lived with the "King of Rats." She might actually have been relieved if he had, but that wasn't the case. His words, while slurred, felt genuine to her. His eyes had gone from anger at Fagin to ... something else at her. Whatever disgust he felt toward Fagin obviously didn't apply to her. Why was that? Éponine didn't understand. There were very few differences between Fagin and herself. True, she tended to look a little more attractive, but not by much. However, Éponine actually tended to be worse than Fagin when it came to sneaking around and stealing things. And she could add to her repertoire a list of other ... sins ... that Fagin in no way would ever be able to accomplish.
The soft tone of Mercutio's voice did something that few things could. It calmed Éponine down, especially when he said her name, her real name. It sent shivers up and down her spine. Those shivers only got worse when Mercutio pulled her in as though to dance with her. His fingers traced down her arms in a very familiar way. His hand, then, made its way down her back and rested on her hip. It was not the first time she had been touched in such a way. It was an unfortunate fact that she had been through it so many times on her father's orders that she had become hardened to it. She didn't think of it as fun, only work, or a punishment. Nevertheless, it had been a long time since she had let herself stoop so low. Was it stooping now? She couldn't tell. She wasn't as angry or afraid this time as she usually was. There was something different about Mercutio's touch. Something kind.
Everything in Éponine's body told her not to get too carried away. She was done with one-night stands, and she was sure that this was what her thing with Mercutio would be if she let herself take it that far. She wouldn't. She hardly knew him. For all she knew, he could be exactly like all those rich, slimy old men who would take her for one night, pay her for her trouble, and forget about her completely the next day. She was just a good time, not a human being with needs and hopes and dreams. She wasn't sure she could handle it if Mercutio treated her the same way. She was not going to give up everything just to eclipse the tragedy of her real life. But she didn't push away from him. She let him hold her.
"I'll be 'onest, Merc," she said quietly, holding his shoulders with her hands. "Ya don't wanna stay where I'm stayin'. Not unless ya wanna be cold, wet, and 'ungry." She bit her full lips, which were one of the only features about her face that could be considered pretty under any circumstances. She was trying to keep her dark eyes from welling up with tears. His unquestioning kindness was beginning to get to her. Either he was stupid or he was honestly being good to her. Éponine's brain told her that the former was true, but her heart wanted to the latter to be the truth. She wasn't sure where to go from here. She figured the best way to go was to just let him know exactly what he was getting into.
[/blockquote] |
|
