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Post by william on Sept 10, 2010 12:34:46 GMT -8
william mancini [/font][/center] the bass in the car made it's frame shake with vibrations. the jeep wrangler's top was down, letting in all the sunlight, absorbing the warmth and subtle breeze. too bad this nice weather won't last long. winter would soon be settled into earth's surface, making it cold, dreary, and.. cold. looking down at his open palm, small handwriting scribbled directions to this.. crossfire farms. it looked nice enough on the website. chassis huffed up in a sigh, lips parted to withdraw the air. one hand loosely gripped the leather steering wheel, while the other held onto the stick. shifting the car into fourth gear, the breeze picked up. aviators shaded his eyes, features were un-recognizable around these parts. nobody knew who he was, nor what he did. perfect. good thing. looking down at his hand once more, taking the car down a road before looking left. a large sign indicated the entrance to the barn. what was he even doing here? he didn't know anything about horses. or barns. or horse people. [ cazzo. ] he muttered under his breath. pulling down the driveway- at least it was pretty here... spotting several horses out in the field. this place had a nice setting. that was for sure. he would have been relaxed if the little fact bugging him in his head that he wasn't here to work. it was a cover-up. clearing his throat, parking the black jeep in a open parking space. shrugging his shoulders to himself- hopefully that wasn't anyone's space. if so, it wasn't like he'd care. sorry. rubbing his palms together, glancing around, eyes squinting underneath his shades. devilish features were hidden as he tipped his chin downwards, shadows created over his face. loose white t-shirt clung to his front as the breeze shifted the fabric into him. jeans were a dark blue. walking into the barn, shade creating a cooler temperature. glancing around quickly, finding a room that looked like it would suit his needs. entering it, index finger flicked on the lights. looking around as the room was now visible, a couch, and a kitchen. thank god horse people weren't crazy enough to not own food. moving over to the counter, elbows rested on the cold surface of the marble. seated in a bar stool, he glanced around. well, he'd just wait here till someone is curious enough about the stranger and introduce themselves to him. index finger lazily reached up, tracing it's tip at the star-shaped pattern on his chest. the brand mark was fully healed by now, and didn't hurt like it used to. a subtle reminder of why he was here. hand dropped from the outline. grabbing a piece of paper that sat by the phone, obviously used to write down numbers or names that might have called when looking for someone, and the pen, and started to doodle. hunched over, the male started drawing the la stidda's gang symbol- the same design that was marked on his chest. looking down at it, back hand pushed it away a foot or so down the counter. he couldn't even look at it anymore. fingers ran along the length of his jaw line. glancing around, nobody. nothing. was this place dead? making himself comfortable, his lower half swung over, heels hitting the other bar stool- making it his foot rest. stretching his hamstring and calf muscles as he slightly leaned forwards to grab the slip of paper once again. doodling once more, adding more onto it. boredom. [ e questa è la mia vita ] he mumbled to himself. the phone in his pocket vibrated, a rough arm movement snatched it and pulled it out into the open. reading the font on the screen, sighing. vision took a quick sweep over the area. he couldn't leave now for his real work. thumb tapped a rhythm onto the counter's surface, lips pursed as he thought. texting a negative comment back to the sender, he placed his phone back into his pocket. taking yet another quick glance around, index fingers propped up and started lightly, not even audibly, drumming on the corner of the counter.
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Post by darcieodwyer on Sept 10, 2010 16:55:33 GMT -8
Reply coming in a moment!
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Post by william on Sept 10, 2010 17:17:54 GMT -8
haha, take your time.
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Post by darcieodwyer on Sept 10, 2010 17:33:34 GMT -8
Darcie leant her head against Athena’s neck, thankful that the mare was so calm, that she wasn’t going to just up and walk off on her. The heat was absolutely killing her, back at home, Ireland, 64 degrees Fahrenheit was at a point where she’d be almost dying of heat exhaustion. Living in America for a number of years now had helped a bit, she wasn’t likely to drop dead from the heat now, but still, she couldn’t wait for the cooler weather.
Though, the heat wasn’t the only thing that was giving her hell. She hadn’t been able to help herself when she’d been challenged to a shot contest at Molly’s Saloon after work last night. Which, she had won...then again, she had the tendency to cheat if she didn’t entirely trust or know the people she was drinking with. They never even seemed to notice when you followed a shot up with a swig of beer, they hadn’t even noticed the bottle was empty, she’d just spit the shot straight back into the bottle and they were none the wiser. But, she still had a hangover, which, as well as giving her a splitting headache, left her in a highly irritable mood as well.
She let Athena into one of the pastures, unclipping the grey mare’s lead, and watched her walk off to graze for a few moments, before she headed back to the barn. She stopped by the parking lot first, to grab some of her supply of Berocca and painkillers. There was a black Jeep in the lot, that hadn’t been there an hour ago, actually, Darcie couldn’t remember ever seeing it there before. Then again, there were always new riders coming and going, and it wasn’t like she had been in Dallas long enough to recognise any cars besides her own and her employer’s.
“Ouch, shit...” she yelped as she walked into the lounge, along with another line of expletives when she smacked her knee into the corner of a cupboard as she rounded the door, hopping on one foot for a few moments as she rubbed her knee. “That’s going to bruise,” she grumbled, frowning. It was only then that she realised she wasn’t the only one in the lounge, there was a guy, probably around her age, sitting at the counter. Oh well, she thought to herself. She couldn’t really care less what people thought of her, quite frankly, that was their problem, not hers.
Marching into the kitchen area of the lounge, she grabbed herself a glass, taking a sideways glance at the stranger, before filling it up at the sink. Dropping a Berocca tablet into the glass, watching it swirl down to the bottom as it started to dissolve, she turned to face him, leaning her side against the bench. “Looking for someone?” she asked, realising she still had her aviators on, pushing them up onto the top of her head as she spoke, wincing slightly.
Words: 495 Tagged: William! Outfit: Click Notes: Whee finally. Might make a template for my posts later, too lazy right now.
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Post by william on Sept 10, 2010 18:01:12 GMT -8
elbow pressed against the area of the counter, supporting the weight of his head as his cheek bone pressed into his open palm. clearing his throat, he glanced around. there was a tv in the back of the room. most likely was never used. elbow stretched from underneath his head, neck snapping the weight of his skull upwards. spine straightened, posture squaring as his feet dropped from the stool, and bent at the knee underneath his seat. one open palm fell on the back of his knuckles, applying pressure, and cracking the joints. doing the same on the opposing side. he then had his hands brace the edge of the counter, and twisted his upper anatomy, feeling several pops loosen up his spine. stopping, sighing, boredom overwhelmed him. watching his shirt sleeve rise, catching a small section of his tattoo peering from underneath the fabric. did horse people have tattoos? maybe dedicated to their horses. chuckling to himself, he heard horse people were crazy. yet, nothing held to confirm this theory.. yet. hearing the door open, a bang, followed by several american cuss words. arching an eyebrow in the direction to the newcomer, he watched as she almost hesitated when looking at him. examining her for a moment, the silence was odd. she caught his attention. fromher clothes, to her hair, to her face. tongue ran itself over the front of his teeth, then rubbed itself over the length of his bottom lip. watching her actions- getting a water, throwing a pill of some sort in it, then relax into a bench as she looked to him. he was about to speak, lungs gathering air for a sentence. however, she beat him to it. facing the lass, shifting weight in the stool as he got a more comfortable seat. [ well, i'm looking for whoever owns this fattoria. sai chi? ] he thought over his words, cleared his throat, and spoke again, [ scusa, do you know who can help? ] he rephrased. he truly felt bad for whoever decided to strike a conversation with him, seeing as his words from his native language always found their way into his lyrics. it wasn't his fault. he just got careless when speaking. yet, he had noticed an accent in the several words the girl spoke. not american, not mexican, nor anywhere around here. obviously somewhere east. perhaps irish? he couldn't tell quite yet. leaning forwards slightly, as if taking an interest into the girl. [ by the way, i'm will. ] he hummed, always introducing himself in such a new place. laid-back personality kicked in, giving his vocals a mono-toned feel to them. the italian halted his vocals for a moment, and waited for the signorina to speak. [/center]
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Post by darcieodwyer on Sept 10, 2010 18:49:51 GMT -8
Darcie felt his gaze as she went about her business, but chose to ignore it, for now. It didn’t make her feel uncomfortable, or awkward, nothing much did. She had made a rather loud, and probably rude entrance, after all. Popping two painkillers from their sealed package, she downed them with a mouthful from the glass she had just gotten, praying that they would kick in sooner rather than later. He seemed...well, she could use the cliché of mysterious, but that didn’t seem to fit. Rather, that he didn’t seem like the sort of person who would hang around at a barn, but maybe her headache was causing her to read him wrong.
Shrugging the thought off, she listened to him as he started speaking. A flash of puzzlement came across her face as he spoke, half in English, half in another language, though she pieced what he was asking together before he spoke again, this time, more understandable.
“That would be Carlee Peters you’re looking for,” she answered, before taking another mouthful from her glass. She thought for a moment, she hadn’t remembered seeing the woman around since she had arrived at the barn...then again, she hadn’t been paying attention to other people too much that morning, apart from now. “I’m not sure where she is at the moment though,” she continued, shrugging apologetically.
She drained the glass, turning slightly to rinse it out in the sink. Setting it down upside down in the basin, she turned back to look at him. “Darcie,” she returned his introduction, noting how he had leant towards her a little, and she raised her eyebrows a fraction, crossing her arms casually as she returned to her leaning position against the bench.
Words: 288 Notes: Hrmm, sorry, kept getting distracted for that one so my muse kept running away xD
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Post by william on Sept 11, 2010 12:29:05 GMT -8
a small chuckle was admitted into the air as he watched her reaction of confusion from his vocals. was he terrible for finding amusement in one's unknowing? no, probably not. she gave him a name, but that really wouldn't help much. he wasn't going to go to extreme measures finding this.. barn lady. shrugging, he gave up. he'd just go around, doing things people ask of him to do. which.. sounded creepy and weird. so, no, he'll just hang around till he's noticed by the owner. her heritage was either irish, or scottish. he could never get the accents right for those two things. she returned his introduction for her own set of vocals addressing herself. darcie. watching as she grew indifferent about his leaning closer, he chuckled. he was intimidating, no? well, he should be. with this thought he cleared the lump on his throat, but didn't ease off the weight that was leaned closer to the girl. [ and you are from? ] he asked, curious in how this conversation would keep healthy- if she even wanted it to continue. cocking his head to the side in a questioning manner. both eyebrows arched, wrinkles appeared on his forehead from where his brows pushed the skin upwards. taking another quick glance around the place, trying to figure out what he'd be doing. it wasn't like he intended on being sent to this place to work. a coffee shop would've worked. attention them set back onto the girl, who looked a little distressed. no, something else. ill? perhaps hungover. ah, if that were the case, will would feel bad for the lass. he had experienced enough hangovers in his life to know what it felt like and to experience it on a daily basis was how he had been living for a long while. yet, he wouldn't comment on such, seeing as he didn't know her. nor her problems. not what she did, or how she did it. leaning back, arms crossing over his diaphragm. note; sorry it's so short. i'm, sadly, very busy at the moment. [/center]
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Post by darcieodwyer on Sept 11, 2010 19:32:41 GMT -8
Will didn’t seem terribly interested when she gave him Carlee’s name, despite having asked who he needed to see. She found it...odd...to say the least, but she didn’t think too much of it, perhaps he just wasn’t in a rush to see the stable owner. She studied him for a moment, considering. He gave off an intimidating air, to be sure, but it seemed to be...controlled, if that were even possible. That thought did help her relax a little more. She’d only been in her early teens when her sister’s boyfriend had...well, he had ruined all of their lives, and even though she had only been young, it had left her with a certain wariness of people who gave off a dangerous vibe.
“Ireland. Northern, if you want to be exact,” she answered, shrugging off the memories when she heard him ask where she originated from. Turning so her back was resting against the bench now, instead of her hip, she stretched lightly, yawning and covering her mouth with one hand. “And, before you ask – no, I’ve never met a leprechaun,” she continued, following the comment up with a slight smirk, to show it was all in good nature. She couldn’t count the amount of leprechaun jokes that usually followed whenever someone found out her birth country.
She could feel the painkillers slowly begin to kick in, thanking her lucky stars that she’d bought the rapid action ones this time. “What about you?” she queried.
Words: 245 Notes: Eh, sorry it's not that great. I'm so tired, lol.
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Post by william on Sept 12, 2010 14:40:28 GMT -8
i'll have to respond tomorrow, i'm flooded tonight with posts, homework, and studying. i'm sorry D:
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Post by darcieodwyer on Sept 12, 2010 15:20:25 GMT -8
That's cool, take your time
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Post by william on Sept 14, 2010 14:27:36 GMT -8
he felt as if the girl shied away from him, as if her senses told her to stay from the man. arching an eyebrow, however, careful to not misread any signs she showed. torso straightened, it wasn't like he wished for his appearance to be presented in such a manner. rather quite the opposing. he was truly a nice fellow, just none really wished to know much about him. which was a shame, but probably for the best. it wasn't like he was interested in others around him, as long as he had his amicos and his main priority, he would be fine. muscles stretched in his back as he slightly stretched, only doing this because he was bored. well, not exactly. this girl was quite entertaining, yet soon he, and she, would run out of questions, and one would have to make a random, odd excuse to leave. chassis grew in a sigh, blinking, his attention turned to the girl. hearing her tell she was from ireland, he smirked. [ it's nice up there. cold and wet, but nice. ] as he had heard from friends. he wondered if she had ever seen a leprec- oh. nope. she already answered his joke before he could even provide it. smirking, vocals let out a smooth chuckle. [ oh darn, i was wishing you had. ] he sarcastically jokingly hummed. [ any fairies? ] he asked, only because his friends had sworn that fairies there live in the forest. and after a while of subtle debating, will figured that they truly thought there were fairies that lived in the woods. creepy, in his mind. smile stayed on his features, perhaps coaxing the girl into believing that he truly wasn't harmful. which was a lie, but nobody had to know. both eyebrows raised as she asked where he was from. [ italy. ] he stated, weight shifted and adjusting on the stool as he shifted himself closer to the counter, elbows leaning themselves onto the marble, hands clasping together in front of him. [ catania, per essere precisi. ] italian vocals chiming in. he only used his language in such a way where it wasn't as importante. so, he'd only use it when he didn't expect a response to whatever he was saying, for it obviously wouldn't be vital. it was just satisfying to see one tilt their head in a confused manner to the foreign lyrics. eyes flicked over to the girl, interested if she knew gaelic. yet, he didn't think many spoke it anymore, but he wasn't sure. he didn't know the culture well at all, only had one or two friends from that area.
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Post by darcieodwyer on Sept 16, 2010 2:19:29 GMT -8
Reply will be coming tomorrow, I just started my new job today so I haven't had time, and I'm really tired xD
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Post by william on Sept 16, 2010 12:03:42 GMT -8
it's fine, take your time.
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Post by darcieodwyer on Sept 18, 2010 8:35:27 GMT -8
Usually, when meeting a new person, Darcie tended to be louder, more talkative. Unfortunately, he’d caught her with a hangover, which, for obvious reasons, tended to slow her down a bit, so she felt a little bad, that she hadn’t really provided much engaging conversation since she had walked in to the room, besides the flurry of cursing she had entered with. “Cold for ye maybe. Give me rain or snow any day, and I’ll be happy,” she answered, with a grin, hearing herself slip back into a more Irish dialect than the one she had been using. Whilst everyone else would be rugging up in the winter, complaining about the cold temperatures and snow, she’d still be bouncing about, like her normal self, and wearing half the amount of layers of clothing as everyone else as well.
“Oh, loads of fairies. Pesky little blighters, they are,” she replied, grin widening. Well, at least he was cracking jokes as well. That comment, as well as the instant relief the painkillers she had consumed gave her from her headache made her relax completely, her whole stance shifting from the slightly uptight one she had been holding herself in, to something softer, easier, looking quite at home leaning against the bench.
She yawned, ruffling her hair with one hand, not caring that it left it looking messier than it already had, she had the type of hairstyle that meant it didn’t really matter what she did with it. “Oh, nice. Went to Italy a few years back with my mam and dad. Sicily, then on to Siena, Florence and Bologna. I quite liked it there,” she said. Her parents had thought a holiday might help cheer them all up, not that it really had helped much.
Words: 294 Notes: *watches her muse sing and dance out of reach* Sorry again, that really sucked. But at least it's something >.>
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Post by william on Oct 5, 2010 12:15:34 GMT -8
soo sorry for the long wait. school really sucks. i'll post this weekend, i promise!
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