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Post by damien on Mar 4, 2011 9:52:01 GMT -8
 i am not a hero, i am not an angel- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Damien leaned against the counter, watching the dancers on the stage boredly. The rim of a beer bottle rested on his lower lip as he stared without seeing, his mind in another place and another time. The fast, beating tempo of the music annoyed him, as did the many woman that came up to him, hips swaying and eyes roaming over him with a glint in their eyes that hinted they were more than a bit tipsy. He always sent them off with an impatient wave of his hand. He wanted nothing to do with the type of women that came to this place. It might sound hypocritical if his aunt didn’t work here, and Damien only came to get a beer and talk to the over-worked woman.
Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her hand a beer to an impatient man, her lips pursed against a probable retort. She paid little to no attention to Damien’s look. He didn’t know if she appreciated his coming here to see her, or not. However, she never said anything to him about it, other than the time she warned him that she’d kick his ass out if he ever tried to bring one of the many girls that wandered around the club back to his place. He assured her that would never happen. And it wouldn’t. Like be said before, he wasn’t interested in sluts.
“Damien!”
He blinked, turning back around to his see his aunt pushing back a lock of stray brunette hair. The look she gave him said she didn’t have a lot of extra patience laying about. “Aiden,” he said back, smiling quickly when a look of irritation came over her face. “Sorry, whadda need?” he asked politely, tipping his beer back to take a sip before realizing it was empty. He frowned at it while she spoke.
“Are you going to hang out here all night, Damien? For God’s sake, you’ve been here almost as long as me. At least I have an excuse, I work here!” she snapped at him. Her tired brown eyes appraised him, but he gave nothing away.
He just shrugged, setting his empty beer bottle on the counter between them as he turned around to face her. “I don’t know, Aiden. I mean, what else do I have to do?” he said truthfully, knowing it would make her leave him be. He was right. She just looked at him, finally huffing heavily and moving over to a girl that was asking for some fruity drink. He watched her for only a moment before hopping over the counter, grabbing a beer as everyone yelled at him and Aiden glared. He just shrugged, giving a boyish grin and hopped back over the counter, cracking the beer open with his teeth and taking a large swig. He ignored a girl that brushed up against him, probably purposely, and resumed leaning against the counter.
damien dupont • 498 words • for anyone • open for anyone. he be friendly, no worries :3
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Post by raym on Mar 4, 2011 17:18:49 GMT -8
The city longs well for
Rooftops and invitations
All lace and secret places
She moves you to touch
With her hands [/SIZE]   CHARLOTTE WENDEL[/size][/center] The attractive English woman had been in town for far too long and still had met no one worth keeping around. She'd met a charming young woman in another bar awhile back, but she'd flit off as quickly as Charlotte had come across her. She'd come to the Hyde on this evening simply because she hadn't been here before. She didn't have anything terribly interesting on unlike the many other sluts that paced through the building, just a pair of slender skinny jeans, simple black flats and an oversized blouse which revealed one shoulder in a classy manner. She hadn't even bothered to do her hair, really, just let it fall in the gentle curls it did naturally. She entered the bar in silence, figuring she'd get a fair buzz going before heading home to get shit faced off bottles of painfully expensive wine and crash into her bed. Alone as usual.
She stood in the doorway for several moments, letting the loud music thud through her heart and taking in the scene before her. Shifty eyed under aged kids lingered in corners, some of the more intoxicated ones bravely dancing with a mob around a band, the bar filled with what she could only assume to be regulars or people looking for other people. With a sigh, she headed to the bar and managed to find an empty stool between an attractive guy - looked to be about her age - and some particularly racy looking woman she wouldn't dare invite back to her own place. They looked none to pleased to see a relatively normal and pretty woman fill the gap between themselves and the handsome man. She ordered a domestic brew, took a swig and leaned back to stare at the neons which adorned the bartender's wall. She could get lost staring at them. Suddenly, though, the fellow beside her jumped the bar and grabbed for a beer, something which caused shouts but nothing was done. He leapt back over, quite a cocky thing he seemed to be, so she figured he was well known around the place.
She watched appreciatively as he settled back into his seat and leaned back, one slender arm over the back of the barstool as she crossed her legs and looked over at him. "A man who knows what he wants, impressive!" she said, offering a 'scout's honor' salute even though she was never a scout of any kind. She had to raise her voice somewhat so that he could hear her, but she smiled playfully at him to let him know what she'd said was positive in case he hadn't quite understood her. Figuring she ought to seize the opportunity while she had it, she leaned towards him and offered her hand for a shake, smiling in the most friendly manner possible. "I'm Charlotte!" she all but shouted to be sure he heard her, but then the music awkwardly quieted down and several people looked at her with amused expressions. Embarrassed, her light colored cheeks pinked up and she offered a mildly apologetic expression to the people around her. She honestly couldn't give a rat's ass but that was what normal people did - show embarrassment.
"Sorry." she said to the bloke beside her, English accent obvious in every word she spoke. "Do you often jump bars to get what you want? I can imagine that was quite a shock the first time around." she said, brandishing her head slightly in the direction of the bartender down the way, light brown curls swaying just a little as she did so. Maybe he'd be friendly, or maybe he'd be getting drunk and think he was about to get laid. Fat chance, but at least she could try making an acquaintance. She could tick that off of her to-do list; then she could at least move on to having a conversation with a person. That was second on the list. [/size][/blockquote] 'She just might get you lost
And she just might leave you torn
But she just might save your soul
If she gets you any closer
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lyrics property of dashboard confessional
comments: hope you don't mind ^^ she's friendly!  [/font][/i] |
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Post by damien on Mar 4, 2011 21:13:48 GMT -8
i am not a hero, i am not an angel- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Damien took a slow sip from his beer, eyes wandering aimlessly around the bar. It was loud, hot, and sweat hung in the air like an air freshener in a car. He knew that people had watched him hop over the counter, but he hadn’t expected anyone to particularly care enough to ask him about it. He could do pretty much what he wanted when his own aunt was the bar keep for the night. Though, he’d have to pay it later. He heard the feminine voice that spoke up, and he looked over, assuming correctly she was speaking to him since she directed her gaze toward him and no one else seemed to be listening. He raised one brow, and shrugged in response. He noticed how she raised her voice to be heard over the other voices and the music, and so he scooted over a few steps to be polite. “You could say so,” he responded after a moment, waiting until there was a small lull of noise.
Smiling back at her after a brief pause, he stretched over to take her hand, giving it a firm shake before drawing his hand back. His smile widened slightly as she said her name, choosing exactly the right, or wrong, moment to shout it over to him. He shouldn’t laugh, but for a moment he almost did. He just smiled, keeping his amusement behind closed lips and nodded to her in response to her introduction. Taking a sip of his beer, he moved closer as a larger man pushed his way to the counter, ordering a drink in a loud and obnoxious voice. Damien made a slight face, saying nothing and looking back to the woman. Charlotte, apparently. “Damien,” he said, offering his name simply. He waved off her apology, and then laughed lightly at her next words.
He glanced over at his aunt as Charlotte nodded her head to her. Drawing up a stool, he sat on it backward, resting his arms on the top of the back. Picking his half empty beer back up, he took a sip. He knew Aiden didn’t care what he did, so long as she kept out of her way and didn’t make trouble. Most of the time his aunt didn’t attempt to mother him, and other times she was the most protective. Damien never complained because he never had it in his heart to discourage the woman. He never had a mother to look out for him, and she never had someone care about her either, so he figured they both needed their relationship more than they’d admit to each other. He was glad he had her, and that he’d made the move from New York to Addison. Glancing over at Charlotte, he shrugged loosely.
“Just here,” he said back with a friendly, easy grin. Then he nodded his head toward Aiden as Charolette had done earlier. “That bartender, or barmaid, as she prefers, is my aunt. She only puts up with me because of that,” he said, watching as Aiden turned around and shot him a look that was teasing, obviously hearing his words about her. He grinned at her, finishing his beer and raising the empty bottle to her in a clear gesture for another. Rolling her brown eyes, he watched her get him another, sliding across the counter to him with a curious look to the woman beside him.
It was warranted. Usually Damien kept to himself when he showed up at The Hyde. He wasn’t unfriendly, but the type of people that showed up at he bar usually weren’t the same type that he befriended. It was true to say that he had no life, in all honesty. His life was running half of the business his father was slowly dumping on his shoulders from Addison. He rarely had time for anything else, so he came here to see Aiden, the only time they ever got to spend time together. Of course, with her working they couldn’t talk much either. Licking the alcohol off his lips, he rested elbows on he counter, then his chin in his hands, looking over at Charlotte. “I wouldn’t normally peg you the woman to come to a place like this,” he told her honestly, the words a compliment.
damien dupont • 727 words • for anyone • well. hadn’t expected to write this much, honestly. oh well xD
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Post by raym on Mar 5, 2011 5:33:25 GMT -8
The city longs well for
Rooftops and invitations
All lace and secret places
She moves you to touch
With her hands [/SIZE] CHARLOTTE WENDEL[/size][/center] Charlotte sipped at the beer, not quite sure why it appealed to so many people. She'd only been inebriated once to be quite honest, it wasn't something she often set out to do considering she disliked every aspect of it. Normally she would order a drink with lime to watch the other patrons rather than indulge in a drink herself. She liked to be in control of situations to be completely honest, today just wasn't one of those days. The drink wasn't particularly delightful, but she knew it would get the job done for her much more quickly than the average person. By the looks of the way this fellow went on to at least his second drink without the bat of an eye she figured he was potentially quite the heavy drinker. She would try not to judge.
He gave his name back, his demeanor quite a bit more friendly than she'd anticipated and quite a bit more sober than she'd anticipated. He seemed to want to laugh at her for accidentally yelling, but he was polite enough to simply snort to himself and grin at her. Good thing for her she wasn't overly self conscious. "Ah!" she said nodding her head in understanding as he smiled towards the 'barmaid' and held up his empty bottle for another. She seemed friendly enough, obviously keeping an eye on him now and then from the sideways glances she offered, and it was sweet Charlotte thought. She wouldn't know much about all that, but it was sweet. "Makes sense." she said, nodding her head and lightly lifting her own still full beer to the woman to indicate respect after they'd been talking about her. Charlotte took another sip, trying to savor the taste as it slid down her throat.
He flipped the chair, leaning on the back of it and simply continuing to talk with her. Idly she wondered why he was so willing to talk to herself and not to the women who still stood hovering behind her hoping to get a little of the conversation she was so easily having when they couldn't seem to have gotten him to so much as look at them. When he spoke Charlotte laughed openly, eyes bright with legitimate humor. "And what kind of woman would you peg me as, then?" she asked him, the grin still lingering on her face as she idly tapped clean nails on the side of the glass bottle. He was a funny one, seemed to have the demeanor of a child more than an adult by the way he played with his surroundings and wasn't bashful at all about the way he was sitting. "Surely a woman of any sort can walk into a bar of any sort and order what she likes because she hasn't been there before." she said in good humor, only mildly flattered by the fact that it had been a compliment. It hadn't been the first compliment she'd received from a man and likely not the last; she always seemed to have a somewhat difficult time accepting compliments no matter the way they came, but she wasn't about to trash herself either. To be quite honest she enjoyed engaging dialogue and he was picking it right up, sober or otherwise.
"Perhaps you aren't the sort I'd think to see round here either." she said matter of factly, smirking and turning her head to the side as she took yet another sip of her bottomless beer. As she took a sip a particularly rowdy woman began to back right into her, so she promptly moved her own chair even closer to Damien. She hadn't any intentions of touching him, but in a place as packed as this one was becoming it was quite possible. She rolled her eyes, giving the woman a mildly annoyed look before turning back to Damien, his laid back temperament only seeming to rub off on her. She propped her own elbows up and watched him in the manner he seemed to be watching her. Funny bloke this one was; she hadn't expected to enjoy herself when she went out tonight. [/size][/blockquote] 'She just might get you lost
And she just might leave you torn
But she just might save your soul
If she gets you any closer
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lyrics property of dashboard confessional
comments: meh! lol i think i've only played her once, and that was literally for one post. xD you'll have to excuse me while i get a handle on her. xD [/font][/i] |
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Post by damien on Mar 6, 2011 13:49:49 GMT -8
i am not a hero, i am not an angel- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Running his finger down his beer bottle, he watched the condensation gathering in a ring around the bottom. Not particularly paying attention to anything, he traced patters across the counter absent-mindedly. The music was fading into something quieter and slower, and he glanced back at the dance floor curiously to see couples wrapped up in each other’s arms. He raised a brow, turning back around as he heard the laugh ofCharlotte beside him. He looked at her, grinning slightly at the look of amusement on her face and in her light brown eyes. He hadn’t expected to hold a conversation with anyone that night, but he didn’t mind this. He wasn’t an unsocial person, just quiet, you could say.
“And what kind of woman would you peg me as, then?” she asked him, voice brimming with a teasing tenor and a grin on her lips. He laughed lightly, picking up his beer and wiping away the condensation with napkin before placing the bottle on the now slightly damp napkin. What a trick question. Damien learned a long time ago to be careful with his words around a woman. Before he could answer, Charolette began talking again. He inclined his head at her words, a faint grin on his lips.
“True, I’ll give you that one,” he managed, grin growing. He took a sip of his beer, leaning back and licking his lips. “However, it is also true that this isn’t the cleanliest of bars. I would have figured a woman with your class wouldn’t waste her time here,” he finished, rolling the bottle of beer between his palms casually. She didn’t look like a slut, she didn’t act like one. He could be wrong, but looking around the place you really couldn’t find another woman that was her equal. Another compliment. He seemed full of them tonight.
He laughed then as she said he might not be one you’d seen here either. She was right, of course. If Aiden had not worked here, he’d never set foot in the bar. As it was, he only came in because she usually couldn’t get enough time off to see him outside the place. He suspected she liked the silent company he kept, and he quietly made it known that he wouldn't have anyone messing with her, even if she did strip and others saw her as simply another whore. He loved his aunt, and she only did what she had to in order to survive. That was all that their family ever did, it seemed. He’d have her respected as long as he was around to make sure of it.
He looked over Charlotte’s shoulder as she scooted closer to him, eyes finding a woman that was more than tipsy. He frowned only slightly, moving away the other direction to give Charlotte some elbow room out of respect. Taking a sip of his beer, he faced her and shrugged loosely and glanced at his aunt who was handing someone a drink.
“Under normal circumstances, you’d be right. My aunt is the only reason I ever come here. She’s my only family around here, and she works hard,” he paused, setting his jaw in a stubborn way. “I know she’d never complain to me about it but in her line of work men mess with her, you know? She strips up there with all the others some nights, but she’s a good woman. I can’t stand to have her harassed with a good conscience, and men take it better from another man when I tell them to back the hell off her.” He sucked on his bottom lip for a moment, taking another sip of his beer, thinking he was going to have to cut himself off soon. He wasn’t drunk but he was getting a bit too free with his tongue for his liking.
damien dupont • 665 words • for anyone • haha, he’s such a good man ♥
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Post by raym on Mar 7, 2011 15:05:12 GMT -8
The city longs well for
Rooftops and invitations
All lace and secret places
She moves you to touch
With her hands [/SIZE] CHARLOTTE WENDEL[/size][/center] Charlotte was pleased when Damien scooted even further over for her; touch wasn't something that appealed to her, at least not at the moment, and definitely not with a guy in a bar. Regardless of how polite he was, that just wasn't somewhere she was comfortable with going. The motion gave them both space and it gave the drunk woman room to fall on the floor without taking anyone else with her. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see the woman laughing and her friends helping her up, then placed her attention squarely back on Damien as he spoke up. Another compliment to her; what should she do with this? She could continue to simply brush them off, but then that would really make her seem like a bitch, something she evidently seemed to put off quite easily. Not tonight, however; since she was already laying aside everything that was her by drinking beer, sitting at a bar and giving a man her real name and even laughing in their conversation, she might as well accept a compliment.
Mildly flattered, she nodded her head in a thankful way, "Well thank you." she said, feeling awkward and so she decided just to take a swig of the beer she'd ordered. She almost spit it all over the place, though, and made a face as she swallowed it without making a mess. Beer really was an adjusted taste. She rarely drank alcohol; why hadn't she just gone home for the good stuff instead? The silence lingered for just a moment while she regrouped her facial expressions, then he reacted to her compliment. Her predominantly sexist side immediately jumped to the thought that he was overly cocky by admitting that he in fact wasn't of the same caliber of the other men here, but she stifled it rapidly. Surely she couldn't think that all the time; besides, what he was saying about his aunt was more sincere and touching than most men would admit so openly.
Charlotte studied his face as he watched the barmaid closely, studying the woman's surroundings more than the woman herself. That was nice, not only was Charlotte out drinking but she'd managed to find a man who was somewhat decent and had a regard for the women of his family. If only all men were that way. "That's.... really great of you." Charlotte exclaimed, the mild surprise unable to be hidden from her tone. She rarely came across a decent man in her travels; mostly she was investigating them. "Not many men would take that kind of initiative."
Now legitimately curious about the man, she took another swig of her beer and managed to keep her expression more normal from the taste. "What do you do for a living, Damien? Have you always lived in Addison?" she asked, unable to believe she hadn't asking something like 'what do you do in your free time' or 'what's your favorite color' or some crap like that. Leave it to Charlotte to cut straight to business and how people make their money. It was something she didn't have to worry about being an heiress, plus her own profession as a private investigator basically, but she supposed she was a bit too organized to head for the softer subjects first. She was far too structured for her own good sometimes. [/size][/blockquote] 'She just might get you lost
And she just might leave you torn
But she just might save your soul
If she gets you any closer
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lyrics property of dashboard confessional
comments: oddly short this one.... HE IS SO SWEET. [/font][/i] |
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Post by damien on Mar 23, 2011 11:02:17 GMT -8
i am not a hero, i am not an angel- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Damien was vaguely aware of Charlotte’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look over. She was better company than he ever hoped to keep at The Hyde. “That’s… really great of you,” she said, and he grinned ruefully to himself at the comment. She was surprised, he could immediately tell from her tone and the way that she delivered her words, and he didn’t blame her. No one expected a man to have better qualities nowadays, but not all of them were women-chasing assholes who thought with the head between theirs legs and not with the one on their shoulders. He looked away from his aunt and down at the bottle of beer between his palms. It was nearly all gone, but he figured he wasn’t going to get another. Getting drunk in this place wasn’t to his best interest; he rarely drank enough to get himself inebriated anymore, anyway. His father would throw a fit back in New York, thinking he wasn’t working his part of the business down here. Aiden would be more understanding, if he wasn’t dumb about it, but he didn’t feel like disappointed her, or pissing his father off. He was past the rebellious teenage stage where he did any and everything he could to get the wrong type of attention from his father. He shrugged loosely as she made the suggestion that that many men would do what he just said he did because he cared. He couldn’t argue with her. “I like to distance myself from the stereotype that men are uncaring bastards, Charlotte. I’m not like that, and maybe there aren’t a lot out there, but I know I’m not the only one, either.”
He brought his beer up to his lips then as she did, taking a longer swig and swallowing the slightly warm alcohol as she spoke up again. He blinked, not expecting the question, but apparently they were back to small talk. Which was fine by him. He was probably about the only one if his family that wasn’t so straight-forward and impatient that he couldn’t simply sit and enjoy a meaningless conversation with a stranger. He thought about her question, though. He wasn’t sure how to answer, because his work wasn’t the normal one for a man of his age, and certainly not of someone living in a small town in Texas. The second question was easily enough answered, so he started there. “I lived in New York City for much of my life. Was born there, raised, all of that,” he stated simply, not about to get into the family life that was in tatters after his mother had left him and his sister when he was in four. His fathered suffered behind the curtains as well, but Damien felt no sympathy for the man. He was the reason why his mother couldn’t stand one more minute in their house, he was the reason that she abandoned him and Katsa. He would never forgive him for that.
“I moved here a few months back,” he spoke again, pursing his lips. “I needed a change of scenery, and Aiden is here, so it was my first choice… My only choice,” he amended, grinning over at Charlotte. He took another sip from his beer and then set the empty bottle on the counter. He caught his aunt’s eye, and she nodded, walking over to the pair of them after she got another customer his drink. “Drunk yet, Damien?” she asked, taking the bottle and raising a brow at him. He snorted at her. “Nope. Not quite there.” She smiled faintly and turned around before glancing back over her shoulder. “Want another?” Damien shook his head. “No, I’m good now, Aiden. Thanks. Put everything on my tab.” He watched her walk off for a moment before turning back to Charlotte. He shifted his chair and then sighed, figuring it was time to get into the precarious ground of the business he and his father ran together.
“As for work, well… My father owns and operates a business that isn’t entirely truthful,” he grinned at his introduction. Way to pitch it, Damien. “I work my end from here, and he doesn’t give a shit about me as long as I do. I’m to take over once he decides to step back, but when that’ll be, I have no idea. Basically we screen small-time car dealers in overseas countries and buy a couple hundred cars off them at a time, real cheap, and ship them over here in the states where we jack the prices up and get ten times what he paid for them.” His father would have sugar-coated it, but that was the business. It wasn’t honest, but then no one really cared as long as they got their Porsche, or Bentley or other ridiculously high-priced car. He leaned back in his seat, running his hand through his hair.
damien dupont • 849 words • for anyone • sorry it took so dang long D:
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