{tongue like ELECTRIC} {savvy}

[isaac]

The music was loud… of course it was loud, he was in a blasted club surrounded by people. That was all he needed, to be surrounded by loud, obnoxious, drunken people with their birds nest hair and spaced out eyes and their tongues practically wagging. He shifted his eyes to the right to see a girl practically sticking her tongue down some guy’s throat; he was groping her ass and running his hands through her messy hair, hair that was probably tangled from vomit.

How classy.

Oh and the music… well, he certainly didn’t like it. Mainstream bullshit, probably some remixed R&B nonsense, probably by an ‘artist’ who a suit and sunglasses and had sexy tanned girls grinding him left right and centre. This club was everything he hated. So why was he here…?

Well, that is a bloody good question.

Well, it was the first place that screamed alcohol and so he couldn’t pass the chance to have a drink or two. He was on his second drink on the night and the music was making his chest and stomach thud in time to the beat and he hated that particular feeling but he could deal with it because he had his good ol’ friend alcohol. Alcohol never let him down, apart from when he drank too much and vomited, which wasn’t all that often, these days he’d learnt to control his drinking.

He promised himself he’d drink until the day he died because what else was there to do? He had his own place and plenty of money from his mother and there wasn’t much to invest it in, he had no dreams or plans and so he decided to pass time and life itself by drinking. He wasn’t an alcoholic mind you; he wasn’t wasted every day, no, no.

It was lonely back home and it was just as lonely here despite the drunken, tarty mess who called themselves people. He didn’t seem to mind it that way, he liked to live in his own un-tidy little bubble and one day someone would pop it and he imagined that the thing to pop his bubble was dying tragically from poisoning or a useless liver or being run over when drunk or something else horrific. He sighed heavily to himself. He couldn’t deny he wanted something… different, a change. Fuck, he’d even accept a friend, he didn’t know what it was like to have those. Maybe friends were useless and pointless? He doubted he’d ever really know.

Taking a swig of his drink he moved his gaze to his left and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a girl sit herself down right beside him and grin at him. ‘Strange person alert…’ he cleared his throat and quirked a brow at her slowly as though questioning her as to why she was looking at him. How dare she looked at him all beaming and stuff. ‘She looks high… she’s probably high. Avert your eyes,’ and so he followed that thought and averted his high only to hear the dark haired, dark eyed girl chirp a hello.

Hello? Hello? His eyes darted back to her. He didn’t like this, not one bit, some girl was saying hello to him. ‘How dare she…’ He debated not saying anything but he felt sort of bad and so reluctantly he spoke up, “oh… heyy…” he didn’t sound best pleased and with that he stared forward blankly and hoped she’d get the idea and leave already.

status; complete
reservation; for savvy and marina... or her twin? C:
notes; so moody but i do love him <3

[marina]

WORK YOUR FINGERS TO THE BONE
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF SNOW

She was in dire need of a drink. Usually the girl wasn't one for alcohol - but today was one of the few exceptions. She'd finally decided to leave the hospital after waiting to see a doctor for three hours or so. Marina had met someone while waiting, whose name she never learned, who kindly offered her a cup of coffee. Her should still hurt and she figured it was either due to dislocation or a torn tendon. Either way, she'd heal within a few weeks or so.

She walked down the sidewalk, her hands tucked in her jean pockets as she dragged her feet across the concrete. She was headed toward The Basement - which was the town's local (and hottest) club.

She grimaced as the horrid music that they were blaring reached her ears at the half-block mark.

Go figure.

No one could play decent music nowadays, it was quite depressing. She couldn't listen to the radio for more than five seconds before they started playing the likes of Lady Gag-gag or Hooker Perry. Sometimes she wanted to do nothing more than shove her fist through the speakers. 'course it wasn't long before she just stopped listening to the radio altogether and settled for her ipod or CD's.

She wasn't sure what she expected as she approached the large doors and showed her id to the bouncers. Obviously the sight of whores swapping spit with the local douches didn't come off as a shock. It was common knowledge that the std infected girls hooked up with the std infected guys. 'course their faces were plastered with layer upon layer of makeup (hiding their ugliness). She couldn't help but laugh at the fact that these girls were uglier than French gargoyles and that the guys were just too drunk to care.

Marina sighed and pushed her way through the sweaty, sex-starved mob people considered 'dancers' and made a beeline to the bar. She wasn't an alcoholic - but she could easily get herself shitfaced. It was just one of those days, the ones where you just don't give a damn about anything anymore. "Yeah, give me a Mojito."

She watched as the bartender went to make her drink and glanced around to see if there was anyone she could converse with while waited. She smiled at the charming fellow sitting next to her, no harm in being friendly right? "Hey," He didn't say anything for awhile and she figured he was one of those stuck up assholes. However, he suddenly spoke a soft “oh… heyy…” while staring straight ahead. Well, that was a start. "I'm Marina and you are?"

done :3
eep, sorry if it blows

[isaac]

Drumming his fingers casually on the counter Isaac threw a disinterested glance over his shoulder. Sweating bodies, swinging hair, and drunken laughter. He was very familiar with this type of scene; he had grown used to seeing this kind of thing in London, but with more shouting and more violence involved. Over in England the drinking age was lower so of course there were going to be more pissed up teens about, vomiting in gutters and wiping blood from their faces on their sleeves, staggering along the streets whooping and yelling at stupid o’clock stirring people from their sleep before they went out to do a hard day’s work.

Swivelling his dark eyes back to the girl he noted her slick, long dark hair with no false hair extensions apparent like he was used to seeing, no orange makeup smeared over her face like a messy paint job, no leopard print low cut top that revealed everything. She kind of stood out like a sore thumb … in a good way, stood out because she was better looking than just about any other girl in the club. The thing with Isaac was he could mentally note somebody’s good looks … or bad looks, but that was as far as he went, didn’t people he liked the person or wanted them in his bed, didn’t mean he wanted a conversation.

“I’m Marina and you are?” Ah. So rather than the casual acknowledgment and exchange of quiet hello’s she was introducing herself now and asking his name, which meant she was hoping for conversation, no? He wasn’t exactly used to this and that much showed when he eyed her for a moment as though debating whether or not to even tell her his name.

As far has knew nobody said ‘hey’ then introduced themselves and then wandered off, once you’d told somebody your name the other was pretty much stuck, well and truly reeled in and in Isaac’s case he’d been reeled in reluctantly.

“Uh… Isaac.”

He looked ahead then, staring at empty glasses and the different types of bottled drinks that lined the shelves. The music continued to blare and he could hear the buzzing and murmuring of voices all mixed together in a blending machine and he couldn’t even hear what anybody was saying, not even the people who were relatively near. He felt a tiny bit awkward now, Marina was still waiting on her drink and nothing was being said. He snorted quietly, eyeing the bar tenders, one of which seemed to be slacking.

“Somebody’s certainly slacking tonight,” he said, loud enough for the young looking woman to hear, she had been making random hand gestures and mouthing something and giggling to someone over on the dance floor, she swivelled at the sound of Isaac’s voice and after flashing him a brief dirty look she fixed Marina’s drink. Isaac merely smirked knowing that the woman couldn’t do much, he’d merely been pointing out a fact.

He downed the rest of his drink and slid the empty glass forward, “any chance of a refill?” he cooed to the same waitress who had thrown him the dirty look. Silently she took the glass and wandered further down the bar to re-fill it. Isaac glanced over at the Marina then, almost intrigued by her … or maybe he was just bored.

“So, you come here often?” he asked her. Cliché question number one. He chuckled dryly to himself, remembering how often he had heard that question being asked in clubs. Hey, it was common but had proved to be quite a decent conversation starter in the past, from what he’d seen and heard anyway.

status; complete
reservation; for savvy and marina
notes; CC:

[marina]

WORK YOUR FINGERS TO THE BONE
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF SNOW

coming tomorrow <3