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Post by ariana harley lionford; on Dec 12, 2011 2:40:04 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,1,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,border-top: 10px solid #146785; border-bottom: 10px solid #146785; border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; background-image:url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/purple_background-1-1-1.gif), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Bastien, 5 6 3, So sleepy @.@ | [atrb=width,200][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=width,200,true] I cannot hide what's on my mind
To be fully honest, Ariana had no clue what sort of game she was trying to play. Flirtation was a game that her older sister played frequently, but she new to the very concept. Though most girls her age had been focused on silly things like being in love forever, she preferred to spend her time musing over different philosophies. As a result, she had only ever had one crush in her entire life, and that hadn’t ended so well. Since then, she had a habit of ignoring things pertaining to dating simply because she believed her time was better spent doing other things. Besides, there was no one else who captured her attention. She had constantly been surrounded by high class guys, and if she hated life as some sort of posh princess enough as it was, why would she choose to date someone who loved it?
Leaning against a wall, she crossed one leg over the other and glanced at her boots, making sure that the laces overlapped each other with a certain precision and flawlessness that had been acquired with endless fussing. Was it obvious that she was a perfectionist? Letting go of her camera, she allowed it to hang from a strap that went behind her neck and glanced impatiently toward the stage. Something told her that she wasn’t really supposed to be lingering around now that Wakefield had gone offstage, but there was nothing wrong with their photographer also liking another band, and she knew it. A few off the stage crew sent her puzzled looks, and she could nearly read their thoughts. Some questioned what she was still hanging around for, and others wondered if she had perhaps gotten confused and missed her band. The remaining probably just wondered if she was always dressed so…normally.
It had taken a little while, but people eventually accepted that Ari liked to spice up her style and dress nearly eccentrically. Today she had opted for a long-sleeved shirt that was striped in black and white with a pair of black skinny jeans that clung to her legs like gloves. She was dissatisfied with the simplicity of the conventional outfit and missed her usual attire consisting of corsets and poofy skirts, but she had gone on a photography binge and hadn’t had time to do her laundry. In addition, she no longer had the sort of cash at hand that she used to since she had run away, meaning she couldn’t easily purchase another outfit. However, she wasn’t about to crawl home, looking undeniably pathetic all because she didn’t get to shop as much anymore.
Sending another glance towards the stage, she quietly wished that the Lips Like Morphine concert would just end. It was true that she enjoyed the music they produced, and she loved the concept of a female screamer, but she was feeling eager to see Bastien. There was a certain fluttering in her stomach that happened whenever she got to hang out with him, and after getting used to the sensation, she had decided that it was a pleasant one that she liked. It certainly didn’t mean she understood what it meant, but she didn’t see any benefit in over-thinking her relationship with him. The realization would come on its own like all the other good things in the world, and she would deal with it then.
I feel it burning deep inside | | [cs=2] |
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Post by bastien thomas volk; on Dec 15, 2011 20:43:44 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] conjuring her deepest fears before the possibilities came true,
i took all possibility from you - - - - - - - - - - - - - - As the intro beat faded, a tall black haired boy emerged from the side of the stage and immediately smiled at the crowd cheering for the band. Outstretching a hand to urge the crowd to get hyped up, Bastien jumped in place as he instantly began strumming the familiar tune of the first song. He belonged to a band called Lips Like Morphine, a four piece hardcore band. The one thing that stood out about Lips Like Morphine, was their unbelievably good female screamer. Many people boo and try and tear down the band because of the female screamer, but to their fans it makes them unique. Bastien is particularly fond of the idea of a female singer, it makes them different.
Most musicians make mistakes, and Bastien was certainly no exception. Strumming the wrong note occasionally caused him to shake his head at himself on stage, hopefully no one noticed.. Bastien simply smiled at the people crowd surfing and singing their lyrics. Lips Like Morphine are certainly not huge yet, struggling like most bands in the music industry are nowadays. Their heavy-set music, however, makes Bastien feel the need to jump around like a monkey of stage in an attempt to pump up the crowd. The guitarist thrived the energy the band received from the crowd, whether it is positive or negative. He could feel the bass pumping through is veins, flowing through his body. Bastien took a few steps forward towards the edge of the stage and seductively licked the neck of his guitar. He put so much personality into his performance, he wanted to give the fans a good show. They paid to see them, after all.
After Bastien returned to his spot on stage, the other few songs flew by. He had ended up jumping into the crowd in their closing song to give the fans a great ending, and had his shirt ripped off his body. Bastien surely wasn't muscular, and he sure wasn't the tall, dark and handsome that most girls fawn over. He was more of the skinny guitarist that wears skinny jeans and TOMS. And as the last song ended, the band quickly exited the stage. Usually they get a few people in the crowd that throw things at them disrespectfully but they tend to not let get that to him, however that show was no different than the normal. Bastien quickly grabbed a bottle of water from backstage and dumped the majority of it on his head and whipped his hair around, wiping the sweat off his face. He then grabbed a shirt from a roadie standing by and quickly slipped it on to return to the stage to help set up for the next band to play as well as pack up their stuff.
The clean up and set up went quickly and as soon as the tall boy returned backstage, he noticed a blue eyed girl leaning against a wall near by. Bastien would know those eyes anywhere. He silently walked over to her and stood in front of her. He had always felt some sort of connection between the two, and she was certainly pretty.. But Bastien wasn't someone that Ariana would be interested in anyways, he didn't have a chance. As the guitarist looked down at his shoes he dug his hands into his pockets, his slightly shy side taking over and he rocked back and forth on his feet. Bastien's eyes flashed up and he looked at the photographer, with a small smirk on his face. "Enjoy the show, Ari?" he asked, almost in a teasing way, as a few people glanced at the two, clearly not minding their own business. |
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Post by ariana harley lionford; on Dec 17, 2011 4:31:19 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,1,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,border-top: 10px solid #146785; border-bottom: 10px solid #146785; border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; background-image:url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/purple_background-1-1-1.gif), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Bastien, 6 9 6, I finally used a template! :3 | [atrb=width,200][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=width,200,true] I cannot hide what's on my mind
The general assumption tended to be that Ariana’s original interest in being the photographer for Lips Like Morphine was due to some sort of feminist side to her personality that adored the idea of a female rising in the ranks of a male-dominated genre of music. It was a good hypothesis, but she was sorry to say that the truth was far less evident to the naked eye. The band had its dedicated fans, but it also had a number of critics that would angrily lash out with verbal attacks because they stubbornly clung to conventional beliefs that women couldn’t be good screamers. They were proven wrong, but that certainly didn’t stop them from rejecting the idea, and she found that she could sympathize with being at the receiving end of such close-mindedness. After all, her previous set of peers had expelled her from their company because she refused to conform to snobby behaviour and catty attitudes.
From her spot backstage, the teen was able to clearly hear the songs being played. Part of her wished she could be in the crowd so she could sway along to the other moving bodies while screaming out her support. Not that she cared, but it certainly would be an attention-grasping sight if she suddenly broke into a small dance among the preoccupied staff who bustled along to make sure everything ran smoothly. However, she reminded herself that being backstage would be better in the end because Bastien would inevitably find her and keep her company, whereas he wouldn’t be able to do much if he saw her skimming along the outskirts of a crowd of fans. Besides, if she tried to drag him away from a crowd, it would imply certain things. Honestly, she didn’t quite mind the idea of rumours flying around that they were more than just friends, but she wasn’t the rockstar with an important reputation so she needed to be considerate. At most, she would have been dubbed an attention whore who only liked him for his fame, but she had far worse things said about her in her past.
At the conclusion of the concert, Ariana crossed her arms and pouted childishly when she saw Bastien go crowd-surfing. It lengthened the time she would have to wait, and there was something about the idea of girls ripping his shirt off in the midst of excitement that made her feel a small wrench somewhere in her gut like she had been pinched. It was another emotion that had a habit of presenting itself only when Bastian was around, and she couldn’t explain it, but she was very sure it wasn’t jealousy by any means. While she wouldn’t mind a change of pace in their relationship, she was perfectly content with their present friendship. Fitting jealousy into that equation wouldn’t make sense.
Finally, she caught sight of his lanky figure leaving the stage and headed her way. She noted that his hair was freshly wet, and he now wore a new shirt. A smile formed on her lips and she pushed herself away from the wall to straighten herself up. There was something about the manner in which Bastien acted around her that made him particularly endearing in her eyes. Onstage he was wild and carefree, focusing on nothing but his music, but offstage he acted nearly shy around her. It was a cute transition.
Nodding, she replied, “I loved it, as always. I almost died from waiting for you though.” She kept the smile on her face to let him know she was just poking fun at him, though she knew he wouldn’t misinterpret her words. Fully content now that she had his company, she looped one arm around his and began to lead him in the opposite direction. Feigning an indignant look, she explained, “So because you kept me hanging around for so long, I think it’s fair to say that you owe me dinner. Not paying, of course. But you have to eat with me.” Never mind that it sounded almost like she was asking Bastien out on a date(or demanding, depending on who it was that was listening to the conversation).
I feel it burning deep inside | | [cs=2] |
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Post by bastien thomas volk; on Dec 20, 2011 12:26:17 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] conjuring her deepest fears before the possibilities came true,
i took all possibility from you - - - - - - - - - - - - - - In the midst of waiting for Ariana to notice his presence, Bastien cracked his spine quickly and scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. When she commented on his bands performance, he couldn't help but smile. And smiling is something that Bastien seemed to do around Ari a lot. He probably looked like a complete idiot from someone other than the two. As the girl made her comment about almost dying waiting for him, he couldn't help but smile even bigger. Just the fact that she was waiting for him made him go tingly inside. To cover up his butterflies that may have well been flying out of his mouth he was smiling so big, Bastien pouted for a moment and grasped the small girl in a bear hug. "Oh my god, Ari, I am so SO sorry!" he gasped dramatically in his German accent as his tall, looming figure almost enveloped the black haired girl in a hug. "Please don't die, okay?"
As he smirked, Bastien released the photographer and laughed, just to show her that he was just being dramatic. And when she looped her arm through his and began to lead him off in the opposite direction, he couldn't help but feel those butterflies again. He was already getting to attached to her, which could essentially lead to something more. He silently hoped it would.. His head that had began to look down as he thought, snapped back up as soon as Ari began to explain her reasoning for leading him away from the venue. A classic Bastien smile spread across his face again as he paused for a moment to consider this demand. "Hmmmm.." he pondered, putting his free hand to his chin to consider. As if a bright lightbulb went off in his head, his eyes brightened and he grinned toothily.
"Why of course, m'lady." he said, words slurring together as if he were drunk. Bastien did a quick little bow towards Ari as he spoke again, this time a little more clearly in his words. "But of course, I'll be paying. It's the gentlemen sort of thing to do, right?" he smirked as he lead her off outside of the venue, not taking a moment to look back behind them at all. The guitarist was simply just too caught up in the moment to think of anything else going on around them.
"And where would this lovely lady like to eat?" he asked, German overwhelming his words as they approached a stop light that lead in various directions. The only logical explanation was to walk to the restaurant, simply because Bastien would have to make it back to the venue to catch the bands van. He didn't have a car, because he didn't think it was necessary if they were touring all of the time. As his arms were laced into Ariana's, he couldn't help but feel a wave of protection surge over him. The kind of protection if anyone even looked at her the wrong way, he'd kick their teeth in. It was simply his nature for Bastien to be protective over anyone that he cared about, which obviously included Ari. |
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Post by ariana harley lionford; on Dec 24, 2011 5:34:44 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,1,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,border-top: 10px solid #146785; border-bottom: 10px solid #146785; border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; background-image:url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/purple_background-1-1-1.gif), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Bastien, 796, Not my best, I'm sorry! >.< | [atrb=width,200][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=width,200,true] I cannot hide what's on my mind
On more than one occasion, Ariana’s choice of words could be easily interpreted as flirting. However, her confession to her rather suspicious use of tone and sentence construction was neither a confession nor a denial of what her intentions were. In all honesty, she wasn’t even clearly sure what it was that she wanted from him. Friendships were great and all, but the more she spent time with Bastien, the more she wanted to see how far their relationship could go. Maybe she really did like him. Maybe she wanted to know what dating was like because she had never had a boyfriend before, and she was the type who liked to experience things for herself. She wasn’t sure.
Laughing lightly, she felt small as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug that made her heart flutter a little. Returning the gesture, she maneuvered her arms around his torso and pulled him close for a few seconds before loosening her grasp. With a lingering grin on her lips, Ari smugly replied, “Apology accepted. Of course I won’t die. What would you do without me?” The better question was what would she do without him? The idea of having to go on in life without being graced with the pleasure of listening to his melt-worthy German accent was nearly impossible to fathom.
There was something contagious about Bastien’s enthusiastic expression that lifted her mood and erased any traces of possible grumpiness that had accumulated when she had been waiting for him. It wasn’t as if she were ever really mad at him though. Something stirring among her emotions told her that she would wait for him forever if she had to despite her impatient and restless nature.
“Well, if you’re offering, then I can’t possibly object. It would be rude of me to do so!” Watching him bow, she grinned again and wondered what the difference was between their current behaviour and that of the typical couple. She followed along without resistance when he led her away, a bit dazed that it would just be the two of them going out to dinner. As someone who liked to take action first, she questioned why she was refraining from just asking him out. It was the twenty-first century where girls could ask out guys instead of just prettying themselves up to attract gentleman callers. But what if he acted this friendly around all girls? It would be terrible if things grew awkward between them because she mistook his kindness for a green light to pursue him.
Tapping her chin thoughtfully, Ari tried to think of a good place to go, but she couldn’t decide on any restaurant; her plans had only gone as far as keeping him as company. Shrugging nonchalantly, she replied, “It’s up to you. I’m not very picky.” She had always been better at asking rather than answering questions. In her experience, people had a tendency to expect a certain answer without meaning to, and she was never good at meeting anyone’s expectations. That was why she had chosen to run away from her home in England in the first place.
Following her vague and unhelpful answer was a question. Born into a wealthy family, Ariana was technically a high class young lady who belonged to the elite social scene, but none of that ever appealed to her. On the other hand, her parents always kept track of other European families and would report their findings to their children while dropping none too subtle hints as to what sorts of interactions they wanted to see take place. While she had always lacked an interest in being a socialite, her brain naturally remembered some of the names that her parents would mention, and if her memory was serving her correctly, then Volk was one of the families that her parents often urged her to make connections with. It seemed too big of a coincidence that they were from Germany, as was Bastien, which made her question if he was a member of that family. It wasn’t as if his origins would change her opinion towards him in any way, but her curiosity was calling her, and she almost always answered.
“I apologize. This probably sounds really random, but are you Bastien Volk, as in a member of that really influential family in Germany?” A part of her hoped that he was because then it would feel like he also left his home behind to pursue independence and freedom from social pressures, and that would inevitably make her feel closer to him than before. Another part hoped that he wasn’t; she had fled from it all, and it would be unbearable if he was involved with the sort of life that she had left behind.
I feel it burning deep inside | | [cs=2] |
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