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Post by christian erik hope; on Dec 16, 2011 9:58:57 GMT -5
THE WORLD COUNTS LOUDLY TO TEN.
one, two, three, four, five ... [/font][/center] He really only attended the bonfire because it felt obligatory to do so. He thought that if he didn't, then people would just label him even more of a recluse, even though he wouldn't have minded hiding in the tourbus, maybe just air-drumming to some old tracks on the radio or something equally nerdy that would have everyone else in the vicinity raising their eyebrow at him in wonderment. That would have been the ideal plan, really, if there was no party to attend, but the bonfire provided something of a welcome distraction; so, donning his usual garb of a band shirt, jeans and a heavy hoodie, he had headed off to the bonfire to see what was going on -- and whether he should bother with it in the first place. Most people seemed to have someone to talk to already, or had arrived with friends, but Chris had no idea where his bandmates even were or if they had decided to come, after all.
Vaguely aware that people were all around, and would start wondering what someone was doing on their own at a bonfire or just start staring at him, he stuck near the edge of everything; at one point, he found a beer pressed into his hand, and he decided not to complain, because, hey, who didn't have a drink every now and then? Instead, he drank, and he stayed hidden from most people, as was his favourite pastime (apart from, you know, playing music, because clearly, that came first). Maybe people would start worrying that there was a shifty-looking guy at the edge of the party, but Chris refused to think negatively about how he may or may not look currently. Instead, he focused on the drink in his hand and the fact that even though he didn't really like public events, he was here, which was worth something in his own little world.
...six, seven, eight, nine... [/font] WORDS! 319 TAGGED OPEN NOTES! VAGUE THREAD STARTERS FTW. CREDITS! clarity. @ psyence fictionSONG! "Sonne" by Rammstein (translated) ...aus.[/color][/font][/center] |
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Post by ariana harley lionford; on Dec 28, 2011 4:33:47 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;] chris;; 452;; hope you don't mind me joining~ | [atrb=width,200][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=width,200,true] I cannot hide what's on my mind
In a certain way, it was almost ironic that Ariana had shown up at the bonfire when she would have blatantly refused to go to any sort of social gathering hosted by her previous set of peers. By no means was she the mousy, antisocial lone-wolf sort of girl, but at the same time, she had never really been the most outgoing, well-liked socialite. It was hard for her to flutter around like a social butterfly when her past experiences in the limelight left her with handfuls of articles that scathingly criticized her every action and decision, comparing her to her overly flawless older sibling. To be honest, she still would have preferred the solitude of her bedroom so she could intently ponder over the unsolved philosophies of life or look back at the pictures she eagerly took whenever she was compelled by a seemingly deep scene. However, it simply didn’t seem right for her to hide away when everyone else was out; with her reputation and old life serving as mere memories of the past, it was only right for her to take her socializing skills to put to good use.
Dressing a tad more conventionally than usual, she attracted far less attention with her striped shirt and layered skirt combination, and she almost hated it a little. It wasn’t as if Ari thrived in being the centre of attention, but she like to turn head a bit with her unique fashion statements. The seventeen year old drifted around, politely rejecting offers to have a drink or two. Perhaps she was just being prude, but drinking seemed like a bad idea, and when one took into account that she could be a little extreme sometimes, it felt like she was just asking for trouble.
Her blue eyes moved over the conversing figures surrounding her, searching for someone less preoccupied with a current conversation. They came to rest upon a hooded figure that hung around the outskirts of the social scene, and she curiously raised her eyebrows. The broad shoulders and strong stature suggested that it was a male, and being set apart from all the others somewhat implied that he was shady, which admittedly appealed to Ari and compelled her to offer her company. It was another cry for possible trouble to approach suspicious looking men, but she knew better than to allow an outer appearance to give her an expectation as to what the person’s personality would be. With a bit of curiosity brewing and pressing her to act, she treaded on light feet over to the hooded man, a hint of a smile lingering on her lips as she asked, “Not the most social person out there, I presume?”
I feel it burning deep inside | | [cs=2] |
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Post by christian erik hope; on Dec 28, 2011 6:40:02 GMT -5
THE WORLD COUNTS LOUDLY TO TEN.
one, two, three, four, five ... [/font][/center] It wasn't until the girl entered his peripheral vision that Chris realised someone was approaching, though there was a moment's hope that she would just be passing him by, though he knew that there wasn't really anyone behind him (unless she was heading for a tree or something, in which case, he would just choose not to question it). Still, she definitely seemed intent on striking up a conversation with him, and he realised that he couldn't exactly skulk around forever and pretend not to have heard her. Not only was that awkward, but seriously rude, and he frowned slightly to himself while silmultaneously hoping he didn't sound like a complete idiot when (or if) he spoke, and lowering the hood to show she had his attention, although, of course, he was always acutely aware of when people chose to speak to him.
"Um, no," he admitted, almost with a grimace. There really wasn't another way to put it, he just didn't well in this situation, so she would have to have at least some patience with him. "It's, um ..." He paused, thinking of the way to say, 'I just hate people staring at me unless it's on stage,' but it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to say, nor the nicest. It sounded too much like, 'I want to be alone,' which probably wasn't the best thing for him either. "Not my scene," he decided. That sounded alright, didn't it? Pretty average, if he did say so himself. There was a faint German accent to his words, but his accent had mostly westernised by now and he was way more understandable seven years on than he was when he'd first stepped off the plane and spoken to his uncle. With the noise around them -- other people talking, the crackle of the bonfire and whatnot -- he thought that she should still be able to understand him, if he was lucky. Otherwise, they'd face the similarly awkward situation of her asking him to repeat himself. It was only then that he realised that for her to come over and speak to him, she had to be somewhat like him -- like attracts like, right? So after a moment's pause, he added, "You?" in what he hoped was his best conversational tone.
[/justify] ...six, seven, eight, nine... [/font] WORDS! 383 TAGGED ARIANA NOTES! sorry it's so short. i just woke up, pokerface. CREDITS! clarity. @ psyence fictionSONG! "Sonne" by Rammstein (translated) ...aus.[/color][/font][/center] |
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Post by ariana harley lionford; on Dec 31, 2011 4:42:08 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;] chris;; 431;; no worries! short is alright with me~ | [atrb=width,200][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=width,200,true] I cannot hide what's on my mind
In a certain way, Ariana almost felt bad for having approached the young man. It was more than likely that he would have felt more comfortable being by himself, but there was something that seemed a little too lonely about being alone when everyone else was socializing. Besides, she reasoned, if she hadn’t struck up a conversation with him, then someone else would have inevitably attempted to do so, and not everyone was as easy to talk to as her. That wasn’t to say she was very easy to converse with, but she liked to believe that it was the general assumption. Approachable was the sort of thing that was supposed to accompany being open-minded and nonjudgmental. And really, if speaking to her was really that bad, then he could simply concoct some sort of excuse before walking away. She had been scorned enough times in the past and in far less polite methods that another time wasn’t something that would faze her; it would have been too troublesome to make a big fuss over something so insignificant.
Offering a sympathetic smile, she replied, “No worries. Randomly talking to a bunch of strangers is sort of difficult for some people. I’m pretty used to it since I try to talk to just about anyone.” Not that being a socialite had been her choice. It was something her parents pushed on her back when she bothered with pleasing them by feigning interest in maintaining a spotless reputation amongst a bunch of stuck-up snobs. The knowledge of how to act merely remained in the form of memories.
Noting that there was a slight accent in his words that she identified as possibly German, Ari hoped that perhaps choosing a subject matter pertaining to himself would make it easier on him. Talking about oneself tended to the easiest way to go. There was never any reassurance that people had a mutual idea of other subject matters, and she didn’t know him well enough to inquire about preferences or opinions yet. “Are you from Germany? You have a bit of an accent that suggests it.” Though it wasn’t the most exciting hobby in the world, she had a tendency to enjoy accurately identifying accents despite how they could mistakenly imply where a person’s origins were. On countless occasions, people assumed that she was Russian because of the light lilt in her voice that had faded considerably after much time spent in other areas of the world, and it was a little enjoyable to feel like a big mystery because her accent didn’t match her hometown.
I feel it burning deep inside | | [cs=2] |
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Post by christian erik hope; on Jan 1, 2012 3:43:44 GMT -5
THE WORLD COUNTS LOUDLY TO TEN.
one, two, three, four, five ... [/font][/center] The idea of talking to other people being difficult made Chris wonder if it was just him being difficult. After all, everyone else managed it okay, didn't they? They just walked up to someone and started the oddest of conversations and everything was okay for them -- but when he did that, it was awkward and he'd stutter or just not know what to say and, on the most terrible ocassions, speak the wrong language. In band interviews, he was the one who'd answer a whole of about two questions that were definitely pertaining to him, otherwise he'd rather let someone else take care of the question. On the other hand, he'd been that kid who lurked at the back and didn't answer or ask any questions for so long that he felt that trying to bring about a change now would probably backfire. Still, as long as she was willing to talk to him, and talk more probably, he didn't think anything terribly bad could happen. "I hear you," he said slowly. What did she do, bring up any random subject and hope for the best? It sounded like a skill you'd have to grow up with, like the children of businessmen who took their children to social events in order to appear the perfect family. "I guess you have to be confident for that sort of thing." He was so clearly not.
The comment about Germany made him freeze up a little, though his reaction could easily be attributed to the cold and not to anything she'd said. After all, they were outdoors on a cold night, and the bonfire couldn't warm up everyone. He just hated the thought of having to think about the place he'd left. Everyone else was proud to say where they were from and what their childhoods were like in another country, and he had never been able to do that because first he'd remember that his father had died, that mother had died, that he'd been thrown around the social care system for three years, that he'd lost his sister and that, somehow, his mother's murderer was still alive, but incarcerated -- none of which were exactly cheerful thoughts, and would be certainly out of place in any conversation, particularly one like this. He took a moment to formulate some kind of non-incriminating reply, which basically consisted of, "Yeah. I left when I was thirteen, guess the accent hasn't faded fully yet." Despite his hatred of thinking about Germany, he hoped he never lost his accent; he needed some reminder that there were things he had to do, and that he wasn't just like everyone else. The thoughts on where he came from reminded him that she didn't sound like the average run-of-the-mill American. "Yours is ... Eastern European?" he guessed. It'd been a while since he'd heard any real European accent, and, aside from France and England, the rest were pretty hard for him to distinguish, having never met people from the other countries.
...six, seven, eight, nine... [/font] WORDS! 503 TAGGED! ARIANA NOTES! HAPPY NEW YEAR. :3 CREDITS! clarity. @ psyence fictionSONG! "Sonne" by Rammstein (translated) ...aus.[/color][/font][/center] |
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Post by ariana harley lionford; on Jan 10, 2012 18:32:12 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;] chris;; 534;; happy belated new years! | [atrb=width,200][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=width,200,true] I cannot hide what's on my mind
Most people generally associated unfriendliness to Ariana, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. She supposed she could see where they were coming from. At first glance, she could appear to be quite moody or outlandish due to her eccentric taste in clothing, and it wasn’t as if most people could refrain from making assumptions from first impressions. Nevertheless, she didn’t really regret being sociable. People could be so fascinating; their slightest gestures and unconscious habits were hints to the more obscure parts of their personalities, and she loved analyzing it all. Not that most people enjoyed being the subject of her silent scrutinizing. It seemed that a good portion of the people she met were more comfortable with their preexisting group of friends and preferred not to go out and socialize whereas she liked to meet new people all the time. Admittedly she was somewhat lacking in close friends due to her tendency to flit around too often to develop more complex friendships, but it wasn’t as if there were many o f her secrets that she wanted to share with others anyway. Technically she was considerably straightforward, but she wasn’t the biggest fan of telling people about her past. Something about it sounded too much like it was asking for some sort of pity. Being compared to an overly talented older sibling and feeling pressured to the point that she felt the need to flee to a separate continent sounded like a desperate sob story even in her own ears.
Shrugging slightly, she replied, “Maybe it’s confidence. Probably. For me, socializing just sort of came from experience. It’s not the most important skill in the world though. As long as you have some good friends, it’s enough, isn’t it?” Ari felt like she was rambling, but there wasn’t much else to do. She hardly knew him well enough to start any sort of logical conversation, and with a situation like that, hit-and-miss was a pretty good idea.
There was a slight movement as if he had stiffened at the mention of Germany, and though it was simply a very subtle shift in the body, she took note of it. Odd as it was, she went out of her way to look for those sorts of gestures. Then again, it was getting a little cold as the temperature dropped, so perhaps he was just getting a little chilled. It would be silly for her to jump to baseless conclusions. Besides, she had known him for a total of perhaps ten seconds (maybe thirty at most), and that definitely wasn’t enough for her to begin uncharacteristically poking around in business that had nothing to do with her. Talking about accents was much safer. Nodding her head slightly, she added, “Russian, to be exact. I wasn’t born there, but I spent a pretty big portion of my life there.” Most people probably adored French or British accents, but she found that she liked hers quite well. It was rather unique among her group of peers, if she did say so herself.
“By the way, my name’s Ariana, but you can call me Ari for short.” Because introductions were a must among strangers, weren’t they?
I feel it burning deep inside | | [cs=2] |
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