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Post by caroline isabelle sutton on May 9, 2011 22:07:23 GMT -6
 VALKYRIE, CALIFORNIA, ASTAIRE STUDIOS, EARLY MORNING, JANUARY 2012[/font][/center] -----what did you do when the world around you stopped making sense? how about when you get too overwhelmed and needed a day, week, month? just to come to terms with everything that was going on? well if you were a normal person you went off on vacation and just left the world behind. carly was a normal person but was a vacation in the cards for her? not quite. of everything that had ever happened to her, the last few weeks were the kickers. they were the ones that had her mind reeling to the point that she felt she was spinning in 360s while in reality she was standing in place. what could do such a thing to a relatively grounded individual? a mob hit, a mobster…whatever he was, and surrounding yourself with this whole new world that was likely to swallow up not only you but your daughter, your brothers, your sister, and hell, why not your parents too. something like that would definitely send someone over the edge to the point where they just needed a release and the same could be said for carly. she needed to get out. she needed to just do something for herself for a while even if it meant that when she was done she still was stuck in whatever…this was. carly’s chosen method of escape was dance but then that really shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. she was after all a dancer. she didn’t like to get away. she didn’t like to meditate or do yoga or string herself out on drugs. for carly dancing was her drug. it was a way to really just get lost in the rhythm of the world and the sounds that came from it. carly loved music but more than anything she loved losing herself in music. it was her artistic side that really got a chance to come through. carly tended to be able to feel emotions from music and she could hear the stories and find some way to tell them with her body. it was a thrill. every time she turned on music she could just feel her body involuntarily moving. like it just had the power to move her. not a lot of people understood the mind of an artist or the mind of a dancer but they didn’t have to. carly felt the music, she got enjoyment from that, and the people around her could sit and watch her as she moved. it was a win-win all around.
-----it hadn’t taken carly long to learn that dancing was one of the more important things in her life. it ranked up there of course behind family and friends but it was still relatively high on the list of matters she took seriously. she had learned that it helped her through a lot not only in high school but after she’d gotten out of keizer and all that was left for her had been her facing. at the point where she’d had no daughter, no friends, and was in a brand new town, she had been at the lowest of lows but she still had her dancing, and that was one of the many ways she had started to rebound over time. she’d gotten a job at bad seeds as one of the premiere coyotes despite the fact that even now she still wasn’t old enough to drink. it was a way to stay fit, yes, but it’s most important aspect was the fact that when she danced the world disappeared. when she danced she felt no pain. she felt no ache in her heart like when lily had been taken from her. she didn’t feel any remorse for the jeers and the punishments her classmates had liked to give her. she felt nothing but the pounding rhythm of the music, the floor beneath her feet, and her muscles clenching and releasing as she did one fluid move after the other. everything fell away when she was dancing and as such it was her safe haven. it was her safe shelter when things got too overwhelming and she just needed a moment to breathe. in times like these when events hit her one after the other, a dance session was usually hot on its heels.
-----and it was only in this way that carly missed being back at her place in new york. she didn’t have a studio in her new york lofty apartment but she did have sole access to a studio and the homey feel of it just made everything better. around here carly had to work with what she was given and that meant that she was high-tailing it to astaire studios for a long overdue practice. she had been out of the game for a bit and for that carly was kicking herself. granted she’d been much more preoccupied with getting her family back on their feet, but now that things had started to cool down she obviously needed to get back into the swing of things. that meant she needed a good, solid practice today which also likely meant that she’d be pissing off a certain russian. oh well. he deserved it. yeah if it wasn’t noticeable carly was still a little sore from the poker night a day or so ago when she’d come face to face with one of jamie’s many bedmates. that in itself would have been tough to swallow with the feelings she was starting to have for him, but tack onto it everything else that had happened that night? like the fact that she’d been locked away with a bunch of crime figures from different, and rivaling, mob groups. so what if it have been a night of truces. things could have still easily have gotten ugly and from what she’d heard it did get ugly shortly after she’d left. carly didn’t want any of that and she was thankful that she’d left, but the knowledge that bella and jamie had been together for some reason still left a bitter taste in her mouth. the anxiety from the quake and the hit on her head added to the frustration she felt from everything that was starting to happen, well it wasn’t sitting well with carly. she needed to get away and so she walked into astaire studios early that morning in order to beat any kind of crowd or fanfare. she was a nice person and usually she’d go out of her way for her fans but this was just one day when she just wanted to get to the stage and hear the music that would inevitably get her feet moving. thankfully carly had gotten their early enough to beat the big crowds and had only been greeted by a star struck staff member who ushered her into the building past the individual rooms and to the auditorium where carly could just do her thing in front of rows upon rows of empty chairs. with a nod and a thank you carly departed into the auditorium alone, happy to hear the door shut behind her. she climbed the stairs up to the stage and hit the technical panel in the back where she flipped on the overhead lighting just above the stage and woke up the sound system. once that was done she plugged in her ipod, set up the song, grabbed the remote control and made her way to the stage.
-----she smoothed her hand over her practice wear before she seated herself on the floor, slipping her feet into the protective foot undies that were common gear for dancers. she didn’t much like dancing in shoes. something about it felt all too artificial. she was more the type to dance around barefoot but even then her feet needed protecting, hence the protective gear on the balls of her feet. once they were secured into place carly stood, found the remote, clicked a delayed start, and set the thing on the rim of the stage where she could find it later. as she walked back to the center of the stage carly’s ears picked up on the music playing, cosmic love by florence and the machine. her arms danced over her head as the music picked up, her feet beginning to move as the harps began. carly closed her eyes, hand shooting outwards as she began to dance along, her body making punches in different directions and ways as the drums began to pick up. she spun, hopping lightly on her feet, her hair twirling around as stray strands slapped at her face. soon enough her body took over on its own accord. her arms moved with the rhythm and her body gyrated the way the music told her to. it was as if she’d blacked out completely and only woken up in a state of total awareness. by the time the music had come to an end carly hadn’t even heard the opening and closing of one of the auditorium doors. her heart beat wildly as she finally came to a stop, her head tipping back at the lights from overhead poured over her body glowing with the beginning beads of sweat. had she taken a moment to just look down she would have realized she wasn’t alone.
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status • finished
words • 1590.
tagged • carmie !
clothes • clicky !
notes • hope this is alright. hope the dancing came across well enough. basically she just loses herself. from there interpretation is up to you.
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Post by james devon sakahrov-collins on May 10, 2011 4:25:08 GMT -6
 -----------------------------------------------------------JANUARY, 2012. EARLY MORNING. ASTAIRE STUDIOS.
[/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] ,HE DIDN'T KNOW where his life was. he hadn't seen it for several days now. maybe he could put up "missing" signs. would anyone read them? respond? he'd have to attach a big "reward" sticker, right on the bottom. if there was money promised, people would do just about anything. he'd known that for a long time. everyday for twenty-three years he was reminded of that. but that was when he knew right where his life was. he'd been in complete control then, nothing to be concerned over. when jamie collins' mind wasn't out there, the mark of a collar deepend into its skin free to the cold air. up until recently, it had been under firm control, latched to a post, endless miles of rusted chain detaining it. but now...where the fuck was it? the acid rain had worn away at his control, up until it cracked and his mind escaped into the fog. things were different when he didn't know himself; when he had no control. it was all he could focus on, where the fuck things had gone wrong. maybe those posters were a good idea; hire some penniless kid to hand out pounds of bright green flyers. because he had no idea. it ran off and he had no fucking clue where to look. the gummy walls of his motel room, the broken mirror, the too-clean carpet and the too-stained bathroom - all those held were shattered marriages and ripped condoms. that was the only place in valkyrie jamie collins was. ever. he never allowed himself to break anywhere else. but staples was closed right now, so he couldn't print the neon flyers until tomorrow. he was fine with searching in the mopped floors of his workplace.
the inferno. valkyrie, california's excuse for las vegas. the largest, overpriced hotel for miles. casino, restaurant and bar, nightclub, games room, a smelly pool, and a wide array of suites to cheat on your spouse in. and bars. not just two. more. what people defined as bars. but the only one was right in the lobby, barely ten steps from the front desk. it co-existed with the "trendy but classy, modern but traditional" (he'd even begun to say that. fuck you, non-life.) restaurant he pretended to run. he was never there. not anymore. when jamie collins wasn't musing in his smokey motel room, he was out musing in a smokier bar. it was a nice change from moth-choked curtains. what else did you expect him to do? he wasn't in moscow. he wasn't in boston, like he should have been weeks ago. he was trapped in this corrupt town with nothing to do. and he didn't get bored. not like ksenia, not like river, not like any of them. he got moody and cranky and did nothing but want out. look what happened. he'd lost his mind and he couldn't find it anywhere. he was showing up for "work" on time, with a pressed uniform and a demanding smile. it wasn't even "work" anymore. it was work, the place he went every morning and often stayed well into the night. he managed his staff, kept up with his schedules, he did everything. it was fucking stupid. but he couldn't stop; this was the only other place he bothered to look for that lost life. mind. whatever.
a too-late night of work turned into a too-late night of nothing. he'd stopped completing his paperwork hours ago. it was a dusty pile strewn across the empty bar. as were the menus he'd been wiping clean. and the half-filled shelves he was supposed to be restocking. the bar at the inferno hotel and whatever was still open, too. no one was lurking on a stool, drowning their issues with more issues. not anymore. well no. that's not right. he was lurking there, permanently attached to the bar at the very end of the bar. jamie was leaning across it, head resting on his folded arms. the closest place to locating his life was right here, half-asleep on the dark marble of his tavern. hah, tavern. it was like he was in england in the eighteenth century. a half-smiile found its way onto his pale face. this was almost like when he loitered in the junky pubs all along valkyrie's inner-city. only quieter. without a bartender bothering him, trying to play therapist. if he knew why he needed to talk, he wouldn't have to now would be? jesus. his hand loosely gripping the neck of the half-empty vodka bottle (it's not stereotype. it is the water of russians.), jamie weakly pushed himself into a sitting position, eyes just now adjusting to the darkened room. nice sight it would have been, to find the floor manager of hospitality drooling over the bar. how long had he even been there? despite not really sleeping, jamie long stopped paying attention when he went looking for his life in the bottom of a bottle of expensive russian water. blinking a few times, struggling to everything into focus, he searched his surroundings. the sounds floating in from the lobby were louder now, waking from the midnight murmur of tourists who couldn't sleep. it was later than he'd anticipated. much later. when jamie fell into a whirlpool of nothing, he usually came to somewhere between three and four. it wasn't a too-late night of nothing anymore. it was a too-early morning of...well, more nothing. fuck.
so he hadn't found his life. not here. he hadn't found anything, hadn't even done anything. rubbing his forehead, jamie mechanically gathered the mess of papers. he put the cap back on the precious no-life-locating russian waterbottle. he wiped the bar counter. he did everything he meant to do, but never really did it. the details could be deal with later. just not now, when he was hovering somewhere between dead and alive, sober and mind-numbingly wasted. alive and sober. dead and wasted. what did it even matter anymore? he felt both. sighing miserably, playing the part of overworked restaurant manager, jamie brightened the lights and went about his business. sort of. until someone got here. he was robotically wiping the bar (again) when the assistant manager and few daytime staff stumbled through the backdoor. they were usually fighting hangovers. he didn't care, not really. smiling his tight smile, not bothering to meet their eyes, jamie threw the keys to whoever managed to catch them and stumbled through the lobby. who needs the staff door? squinting in the early morning sunlight (seriously, how long had he been sitting there?), the moody russian distactedly pushed the sleeves of his shirt up. where were his car keys? probably the same place his work keys were...thrown at some useless employee. nice. good, i suppose. he was still hovering somewhere between kind of drunk and kind of sober. pushing his hands into his pockets, he simply took off down the street. he'd find his way back eventually. he always did.
less than a few months in valkyrie did nothing to help his sense of direction. he didn't even care where things were. the motel, the hotel, and the less crowded pubs - that's all he really needed to know. everyone was at one of those locations. part of him wished he'd stayed at the hotel. half his time was spent there, not exactly doing work. remember caroline sutton? the one work assignment that he didn't really consider an assignment anymore. maybe she was the reason his life had gone and run away. with her, things were different. very different. no killing, no faceless sex, not even merciless torment. he wasn't a russian mobster around her. he couldn't be. there are some people you just don't want to see the monster lurking beneath. kicking at the ground aimlessly, jamie breathed another frustrated sigh. he didn't even know anymore. he didn't know where his life was. he didn't know why it was lost in the first place. he didn't know a single fucking thing. see, he didn't even know where he was going. what was this sudden ability to lose coherence? the hours passed like minutes. in his short time of more musing, he'd left the inferno far behind. he'd gone in the opposite direction of his grungy motel room. he was...he had no idea. somewhere he vaguely remember, thanks to his endless hours of stalking miss sutton (it was still boring). didn't she like, dance or something around here? yeah. he remembered her mentioning that. that was when he wasn't the loch ness monster; he was the baby duck wandering the shoreline. he remembered more things then. just not where things were, still. but his eyes began searching, the glittering sign of something studio his destination. why not. he had to be looking somewhere else for his life, didn't he?
it was called astaire studios. nice name. he saw her car in the parking lot. that was the only reason he even recognized where the hell he was. destination quickly turned to more aimless wandering. his mind was long gone, remember? and staples still wasn't open, so he couldn't print those flyers off yet. he had to deal. arching an eyebrow, he silently moved through the front entrance. a few disgruntled employees eyed him. he wasn't a dancer. he wasn't even some perverted mook stalking someone. but the dark air surrounding the stranger warned them don't to touch. get the fuck away, or i'll snap and do something i really want to do, but shouldn't. it wasn't difficult to find the studio. her music was loud, vibrating enough to send him on a path somewhere other than nowhere. he was good at following quiet orders. slowing his walk to a casual pace, jamie weaved through the rows of seats. why would they put seats in a place where people practice? the only people there should be boring dancers and their annoyingly present families. he still didn't get why she danced, or found it so....freeing. probably the same way he found merciless killing oddly comforting. but he wasn't thinking about that, couldn't be thinking about that. keeping his hands in his pockets, standing right at the base of the stage, he was quiet as he watched her fluid movements. she was perfect as she danced to the music, never missing a beat. leaning against the arm of the seat closest, he still didn't say anything, just watched. the first sign of life in his eyes in days; the first hint of soberness. "i get why you do it. dance." his words were soft, barely above a whisper. it was more to himself, a distracted mumble as the music slowed. he didn't understand why it was dancing, but he understood why she did it. she found her life, that's why. he just didn't know how.
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, carmie !
LENGTH, 1808 words.
ATTIRE, black pants, black button-down.
NOTES, huuuuge mess. </3
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to poets of the fall - "passion colors everything"
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Post by caroline isabelle sutton on May 13, 2011 8:36:35 GMT -6
VALKYRIE, CALIFORNIA, ASTAIRE STUDIOS, EARLY MORNING, JANUARY 2012 [/font][/center] -----life didn’t make any sense at the moment. her feelings and emotions were strewn all about the place in such a way that carly couldn’t seem to organize them. it was like a tornado had occurred in her brain and just jumbled things up so much that she just couldn’t get everything straight. she liked him, she didn’t like him. she was fine with his lifestyle, she was having a hard time with it. she was willing to accept everything for what it was, she was trying to get away from it all as fast as she could. honestly at this point carly didn’t even know what to think when it came to jamie collins. it was like she was two different people, the one who catered to him and the one who didn’t. when she was alone everything just kind of overwhelmed her. when she was alone she could think of nothing but the dangers posed to her family and to lily and the effect all this stress would have on the people around her. she wondered if it would be safer telling her family or leaving them in the dark. she wondered if cutting all ties from them would be better than sticking around and acting like nothing wrong was happening. her parents could tell. they knew from the moment carly had gotten home after that day she’d gone running to that skeevy motel after ksenia had called her. she’d come home teary eyed, rushed into the room, and held lily as long as the little girl could stand it before she started squealing for carly to let her go. her brother had seen the terror in her eyes, as had her mother and father. everyone had seen it and they’d tried asking her at one point, but when carly had stood up, walked into her adjacent hotel room, and closed the door, no one had followed her. after living with her for such a long amount of time, the suttons knew when they weren’t wanted. honestly she didn’t even know how to break all of this to them. “hey ma, don’t worry or nothing but some major crime figures would love nothing more than to see my head on a spit” or “oh hey dad, you know that will you’ve got for when you croak? how’s about writing me up one?” carly didn’t know how to handle it all but what she did know was that they were the wrong people to start relying on in her little hour of need. she couldn’t tell them and they knew not to push but even if she did tell them, they weren’t necessarily the people who could keep her and her daughter safe. they could tell the cops who would put them in some kind of safe house or put them under surveillance but what would that really accomplish? the threat would still be out there. the more and more carly thought about it, the more she needed a bodyguard like jamie around. she needed him if not for her sanity than for the sake of that little bundle of joy she loved so dearly.
-----there was just a bit of a problem with that. around jamie, carly was a different person. she wasn’t the skeptic or the jaded woman who’d built up walls so thick her family could hardly get through. no around him she was an open freaking book. she trusted him because she had to but also because she didn’t want to go about it any other way. she didn’t want to not trust him. something about jamie just screamed safety to her, even if she was the only one who heard it. and it didn’t make sense. trusting that a killer could keep you safe? it sounded like she needed to be committed. but carly couldn’t help herself. and jamie didn’t seem to be able to help himself either. it could have been that she was looking too deeply into the situation, that maybe she was psychoanalyzing the things around her because her interpretation of the world around her seemed to be the only thing she actually could control at the moment. if you thought about it, there wasn’t much about carly’s life that was her own. she lived for her daughter first and foremost. everything that she did was for lily. but at the same time she also lived for her publicist, for her job, and had surrendered her life to the fame. carly wasn’t completely opposed to all that but it did make life a little more hectic. then again at one point or another everyone surrendered a piece of themselves for an occupation or lifestyle. but around jamie carly felt whole. she felt like she could trust him beyond a doubt though he’d really never given her a reason to and though in all honesty she knew next to nothing about him. who was this stranger that had infiltrated her life and taken it over? she’d brought him in so close and yet all she really knew about him was that he was about as addicted to her as she was to him. oh, and she knew who he’d slept with. yeah…that was a kick in the pants.
-----she didn’t know why she was so upset upon finding out that bella and jamie had slept together. really it shouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest. she wasn’t attached to jamie in any real way at the moment other than by being his appointed body to guard so why did it matter? why did she really care? why did it creep under her skin to the point that she needed to leave the crime-filled loft and just get the hell away. one would think she would have bolted after all the women had come in and the tension had gone through the roof but it had taking them outing each other for carly to really get shaken up to the point she needed to leave. that shouldn’t have happened. she shouldn’t have been effected by it in the slightest…so why in god’s name was it eating away at her so much that she needed to come to astaire just in order to clear her mind? ugh! dancing helped though, as frustrated as she was. it seemed like every time a beat pulsed or any time she lifted herself into the air and came back down onto her feet that one more frustration was pushed back that much further. it helped being here. astaire studios was a good place to just lose yourself. not necessarily because the studio was overly fabulous but because here the only concern was dancing. it was like nothing outside those double doors mattered. once you stepped off the sidewalk and into the building you were in another realm entirely. once where life didn’t have to get in the way. it didn’t have to mean anything for a few hours should you chose it to be so. the studios were like a drug. some people smoked or shot up to get out of their head for a while and just put off their problems for another day. for carly the studio had a similar effect. the only upside was that carly didn’t have to lump on the stress of becoming addicted to drugs to the list of stresses she now had.
-----she danced until the very last beat, ending it all on the floor with her dewy back pressed against the cold floor. she lay there for a moment, her chest rising and falling quickly as her body acclimated to her muscles screaming need for more oxygen. she sat up as she could hear the music changing, lifting her upper body so she could find the remote to turn off the music, she looked around and instead of finding the hunk of black plastic, she saw staring back at her a very familiar pair of eyes. she…didn’t know that she’d had an audience. a second song started up and carly finally found the remote, hitting the pause button which stopped the flow of new beats into the auditorium. she sat back on her legs, folding them underneath her body with her hands in her lap, not really knowing where to go from here. the last time she’d seen jamie, carly had just found out about bella and had tore out of that loft like a bat out of hell. she’d yelled at him when he’d come after her, she’d been erratic and confused by her own emotions and she hadn’t known how to handle the situation. now that the music was off all of that came rushing back to her. ”didn’t expect to see you here.” she said a notch or two above a whisper. she chewed on her bottom lip slightly as she stood, walked to the edge of the stage, and slid down to the floor. she could practically smell him from here, and he looked like all kinds of hell. jesus what had he gotten himself into last night? ”h-how…” she stopped herself, clearing her throat as she ran her fingers through her hair. she was nervous for some reason. ”how’d you know i was here?” she asked as she leaned against the stage. she couldn’t help her body’s overwhelming desire to walk right up to him but she could fight it as best as humanly possible. she wanted to though, be there right next to him, curled in his lap or something. she wanted him to make her feel safe again like he was good at. but instead she kept herself away. if anyone was going to break that distance between them it was going to have to be jamie.
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status • finished
words • 1653.
tagged • carmie !
clothes • clicky !
notes • --.
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Post by james devon sakahrov-collins on May 20, 2011 3:39:02 GMT -6
-----------------------------------------------------------JANUARY, 2012. EARLY MORNING. ASTAIRE STUDIOS.
[/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] ,HE WAS BEGINNING to find himself caring less and less. what was the point? it didn't accomplish anything. jamie had followed ksenia here, to valkyrie, because she needed to make sure everything was okay. uh, a fatal earthquake shook the entire city. did she think it would be a shining parada of eighties rebuilding? no one even bothered to do anything. half of it was still in shambles, a mess of fallen bricks and broken windows. the annoying rich people had hired the construction companies about five minutes after they knew their gold watches weren't ruined. the other half of valkyrie was fine. for a city so divided before the quake, it was even more noticeable now. he chose to lurk in the shattered remains of disaster. ksenia was off being happy with her family. probably staying at the inferno, like half of the locals. the original meaning of this "mission" had long become irrelevant. he didn't remember. she wasn't concerned. so why the fuck were they still here? valkyrie, california was a broken city. he saw that, and almost felt bad for them. but he, jamie collins, and her, ksenia sakahrov, were not connected here, not anymore. there was no point in being here. the verrentenikov bravata was the point. he had made that so fucking clear to her all those months ago, he didn't like she seemed to have forgotten that. all because of what? her family, her friends, and whatever else she listed off when she noticed his irritation. he didn't care anymore. well, not really.
her name was caroline sutton. carly. that's what everyone called her. he didn't quite understand why, there was no point. he detested his own name. everyone had been calling him collins since he was fifteen. jamie was what all the girls called him. it stuck. whatever. he was getting used to it. it sounded better than james anyway; that name is just fucked. this isn't nineteen-oh four. but that was her name. and he was supposed to know that. the initial reason for knowing her was, of course, because of ksenia. she just couldn't separate herself from all of these connections, like he'd told her to. and where had that gotten them? some random wanna-be crime organization put a hit on her. because carly was the only leak in their carefully planned disguise. people knew stanislav and sasha; few knew them. it had been perfect. then ksenia had to go and fuck things up, and jamie found himself with a new assignment. make sure she didn't die. really? jamie collins had a reputation among the russians, probably floating along the local scene of other scummy criminals. he didn't babysit. that was for all of the irrelevent associates, or even shamed brigade members. not him. they probably wanted to save on a plane ticket. the two fuck-faced individuals to make this mess were already there, might as well let them mop the floor too. he'd have to pick up dry cleaning any day now. but that wasn't the point. the point was caroline sutton. the girl that kind of made him want to stick around.
he didn't get it. didn't understand it. whatever was there, it was nothing but foggy electricity. he had tried to figure it out eight million and two times. there was never an answer. it was some unspoken connection that fucking terrified him. he didn't do connection, whether is was weird and forced, or just organic. it was not on his list. he avoided human interaction has often as he could. and here he was, finding himself taking time out of his own day to observe her everyday routine. because he wanted to. because he may or may not have wanted to spend time with her. it was different. his mind was obviously gone; he had no clue where it had run off to. all that remained was instinct and whatever else he didn't want to deal with. the chemistry was present, and even he - master of compartmentalizing - couldn't ignore it.
and that's where the lack of caring came in. he got it, he did. he was addicted to her. he got that too. but he knew the concequences of all of this, whatever the result was going to be. he'd seen first hand how these things ended. even his own parents. it was luck of the draw that his mother hadn't been killed. his moronic father seemed to be blind to that. jamie didn't care how star-crossed and in love they had been, or were, whatever. it was dangerous. the russians were one scary bunch of bastards. but the italians could be just the same, just as easily. yes, they insisted on passing the meatballs as opposed to saying "kill your family to prove your loyalty. i'm getting bored." they didn't mess around. one leaked bit of affection, and the meatball-loving assholes were pulling the trigger before you could do anything about it. that's when you go hunting for revenge and become obsessive and either become some badass russian boss or go crazy and get shot yourself. and and and. or or or. there were too many possibilities, and most of them ended bloody. never before would jamie have placed himself in the same situation. he'd always found it incredibly contrived. stay the fuck away from normal people. fall in love with a fellow russian if you must. keep the bloodline going or whatever it is the verrentenikovs wanted. they were big on blood. he didn't get it. but here he was, facing the very same problem. did he respond to this connection? sometimes. but he couldn't find the strength to ignore it. he hated it, however it is what it is. but he continually told himself of the concequences and the bloodshed he knew was inevitable. he was so fucking torn it was ridiculous. he'd become obsessed with it. thought about it day and night, went more than a few rounds with himself. it was a matter of time before he gave himself a black eye; out of frustration or because he was hallucinating another jamie to argue with. either was entirely possible. it was a lack of caring because he had to continue to tell himself not to care. it was safer that way.
she didn't get it, not really. not entirely. she'd given in to this irresistible addiction. he couldn't blame her. a good part of him had as well. she didn't care who he was, or what he did. he loved that about her. he knew carly would sit with him patiently as he washed the blood from his hands, staring at the sink until the water ran clear. to her, there was no issue. he didn't want there to be an issue either. but...she had a life. a family. a god damn child to think about. no one deserved to be brought into this fucked mess. yes, he loved this fucked mess. but he didn't want anyone else to have to love it. he couldn't blame her for not entirely understanding. he didn't even understand it. he just knew the result from experience. jamie didn't want that life for carly, sitting at home, never knowing if he was dead or alive. his mother would never admit it, but he knew she struggled with those thoughts ever damn day. why would she deserve that? did he want to give in? more than fucking anything. could he? he didn't know. you have to let the things you love most of all go. it was contrived and stereotypical, not to mention way overdone. oversaid? he didn't care. but it fit the situation. he fucking hated it. he didn't want to not care. he didn't want to wander around half-drunk all the time because he didn't want to deal with it. jamie collins, master of ignoring his issues, could not shake this one. the alcohol and the chain-smoking and the avoidance and whatever else you could think of, that helped. he didn't think about it until he found himself standing in her studio, helplessly watching her danc e. apparently he gave it a lot more than he thought.
his head was tilted as she finished her practice. routine. whatever it was. he liked watching her dance. the passion was there, the ectastic escape. he escaped through destroying himself, because he hated himself. she escaped because she loved what she did. there was a big difference. but he continued to watch, leaning against the seat, arms crossed. the hint of soberness was gone. much as everyone probably hated it, jamie collins couldn't kick the buzz until it decided to wear off. he looked like shit - hair messier than usual, shirt wrinkled, breath smelling like the side of a rotten garbage bag. he'd have to deal with it. he crossed his arms tighter, fighting the urge to smoke. the amount of nicotine running through his veins was ridiculous. if he didn't end up in prison or brutally murdered, he'd die of lung cancer. as she first spoke, all he could do was respond with a shrug. "it's my job to stalk you, isn't it? who knows. some italian could be lurking under your skirt." he smirked at his words, amused by his own lame joke. he didn't move, didn't speak, as she approached the stage and levelled with him on the ground. how did he know she was here? because he was wandering around like a crazy drunk and saw her car. not because of that electricty. nope. not at all. he didn't believe in fate or whatever the fuck that was all about. "i was on my face home when i saw your car. who else drives that thing?" he raised his eyebrows again, the amusement apparent. no amount of russian water could discourage his unusual good mood. she made him a little looser, but only that could make jamie borderline plesant. digging into his pocket, looking disappointed at his cigarette package, he opened it and pulled a stick of that weird quitting smoking gum out. he hated it, but it was something to do with his hands. anything to distract himself from wanting touch her. "i wanted to see what your dancing thing was all about."
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, carmie !
LENGTH, 1714 words.
ATTIRE, black pants, black button-down.
NOTES, yaaay.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to poets of the fall - "passion colors everything"
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Post by caroline isabelle sutton on May 30, 2011 15:17:02 GMT -6
VALKYRIE, CALIFORNIA, ASTAIRE STUDIOS, EARLY MORNING, JANUARY 2012 [/font][/center] -----if you asked carly about what it was about jamie that made him so special, she couldn’t give you an answer. she really couldn’t put her finger on just why she was so calm and collected around him. it wasn’t like he’d given her many reasons. the fact of the matter was that they knew next to nothing about one another. this became wildly obvious that night of the poker game when she’d come to find out that one of the ladies that had been there had been with him. it shouldn’t have hit her the way it did. it shouldn’t have dug down deep into her brain and whipped out her emotions faster than she could control them. in reality carly hadn’t had any self control. their outing had silenced the room completely until carly had spoke up in complete and utter disbelief. she didn’t know why she’d gotten so upset. so what if this bella girl and jamie had a thing? so what if she’d seen him in the same light carly had. she wanted to believe that there was nothing there because of the angry stares and the harsh sarcastic remarks but she could always be wrong. hell she could have just been talking herself down or something. what if the angry, bitter remarks were due to the fact that jamie still had feelings or because he wanted to rehash the past and bring about something that once was? that shouldn’t have angered and shocked her as much as it had but damn it regardless of what she should or should not have been feeling carly had still bolted from that room of criminals like her hair was on fire. why was it that it ate her up inside, having met and gotten to know someone who’d slept with him. why was it so weird? why in the hell was she letting herself get attached like this?
-----plain and simple, carly couldn’t control it. she couldn’t help that it was what she felt in part due to what she was feeling. all of that was outside the realm of her control because apparently brains and whatever else was doing this to her did not run on the same wavelength. she dare not say that it was her heart telling her to leave. how crazy would that be? he was a degenerate. he was a criminal. he was a vodka sucking criminal who had no sense of boundaries or limitations so why in the hell was that attractive to her?! someone tell her for christs sake! she wanted to know why it was jamie and not some other respectful human being. lord knows that carly had made a point to surround herself with respectable human beings. she really had. the turners were no picnic sometimes, reed in particular, but they were good people. flynn was amazing, sam was amazing, and yet this one criminal comes along in a long line of apparent criminals and here she was…what? falling for him? it was insane. sure jamie was leaps and bounds away from her old routine but he was only around because he was supposed to be. was she falling for him simply because he was her protector? which at this point was only one fraction off from being his captor? no now she was just exaggerating to herself. carly in no way felt like a captor when she was with him. hell she didn’t even feel like she was in an iota of danger around him. she’d yet to really see this ‘hit’ that had been put on her head. the most danger she’d gotten into was that creepy silent stalker who’d taken a knife to her throat and even then it had been over in a flash because of jamie.
-----she was doing a bad job of making him out to be something he wasn’t. jamie was a criminal, yes. he was a booze-hound, oh no doubt. he smoked like a god damned chimney as well but whenever he was with her he was somehow different. he was quieter. he was less likely to act out in a fit of rage. he was, dare she say it, tamer. if there was such a thing as a tame james collins it would be the person carly had a tenancy of seeing. it was the james collins carly was most fond of. she didn’t want to change him of course. that had never been the goal here. how could there even be a goal with so little time spent between them. but no carly didn’t want to end this bad boy, self destructive side of himself. that was jamie’s job to do if the notion ever saw fitting to him. carly couldn’t even explain why she even had that effect on him in the first place. it was like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle, a 2000 piecer or something, and only having 3 cardboard cutouts in your hand. she was missing all of the right pieces. she was missing all of the important pieces. she knew nothing about his past and what it was like. she knew nothing about him as a person. hell she didn’t even know if he ate real food or drank real liquid aside from the alcohol she’d seen him pound. all she knew for absolute certain was that there was an attraction there that neither of them could fend off. there was something in the water where these two were concerned which was scary. when they were in a room alone together the idea that they keep their hands off one another went completely out the window and into the outer reaches of space. they were just that absorbed in one another. it was weird. like something you’d find in two people who were actually in love with each other and had been for years.
-----carly watched him with a kind of attentiveness that only occurred around jamie. she couldn’t explain it but she considered it something similar to a sponge. as if she had to soak up every moment with him because someday it, or he, would be gone and all she’d be left with were memories. she watched the way his eyebrows dipped as she hopped off the stage and brought herself to his level. she watched as he fidgeted like he was battling with something inside himself. she watched everything. she didn’t watch him with judgment she simply took everything in. ”i believe the term is protect. it’s your job to protect me, not stalk me. which if anything should have meant that you drove me here or something but you were nowhere to be found so…”
[/color] her voice trailed off as she shrugged her shoulders. she wasn’t his mother. she wasn’t going to look after him like he was some two year old who liked sticking his hands in the cookie jar. he was a grown ass man with a job to do and if he didn’t want to do that job…well it meant her death. alright so many she should have been a little more concerned about his whereabouts. she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the stage with an unamused look on her face. ”there’s nothing wrong with my car.”[/color] she said in reference to the dark green 1980-something model honda that her brother had picked up a long while ago as a family car back when he was the main provider for the family. ”it runs, it gets me wherever i need it to go, and it’s not ostentatious. it’s a fine car.”[/color] that was a lot of argument for a piece of crap rust bucket but carly had the growing feeling that she just wanted to be confrontational. she was still pissed about the other night and the whole ‘he slept with bella’ thing so maybe that was the reason for all this. she looked down as jamie spoke up about her dancing, her hands falling out of their knotted position to her sides before she hefted herself up on the stage enough to sit on the edge of it. ”it’s um, just an outlet.”[/color] she said as she played with her fingers which were sitting in her lap. she didn’t know why she was feeling so sheepish right now, but something about him watched her dance just made her self-conscious. ”it’s nothing really.”[/color] -------------------------------------------------------- status • finished
words • 1436.
tagged • carmie !
clothes • clicky !
notes • not my best but at least it’s done. sorry it’s so late. [/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify] |
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Post by james devon sakahrov-collins on Jun 11, 2011 22:43:55 GMT -6
-----------------------------------------------------------JANUARY, 2012. EARLY MORNING. ASTAIRE STUDIOS.
[/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] ,IT WAS ALL.... i dunno. weird? twisted? really fucking stupid? he'd heard a number of descriptions. but none them really seemed to fit. not perfectly. but he should have expected that. when it came to this entire situation, it was damn near impossible to find anything that could be forced into the frame, let alone a perfect fit. it wasn't in the cards. they both knew that now. how many hours had he spent agonizing over that? it was the truth. and he knew it. but he didn't want to accept it. there had to be a god damn answer. jamie collins likes things cleaned up, a pretty little pile he could shove down the garbage disposal. it was his approach to life. sort of. the more you look around, the more pieces of clean freak jamie collins you'll probably find. but this wasn't just about him. he was careful with this topic, this...whatever. there was no logicial clean-up method and it was killing him. he had to know why. he tried his damn hardest. he put his greatest talents on overdrive - his disturbing ability to differentiate emotion from everything else. he separated everything and dug through the remains to find absolutely fucking nothing. if he, master of compartmentalization, couldn't figure this thing out, who the hell could? it was an on-going battle that he couldn't accept a loss for. how long had this been going on? weeks. he loved it, he did. but this was bothering him. there was no single term that could be used to accurately describe this...whatever.
and what way is that to define something? a whatever. that's not the kind of pretty little pile of logic that he respected. it was shoving everything into the corner and just leaving it there. normally, he couldn't stand that. if a single dust bunny was present, he'd cover the entire room in plastic. he would spend his entire damn life hunting down that little grey bastard. his mind was dizzy with the lack of sense. the real lack of answers. at the back of his mind, he knew he'd probably never accept it. there had to be a word that could be used here. and "whatever” isn’t the one he’d like to keep using. i don’t even think it was the fact that there was a mess here. i don’t think even he knew what the issue was. it was just...there. hanging in the air, the elephant in the room they tried to address but it just kept ignoring them. selfish tank with tusks. normally, he couldn’t stand that. remember that? normally, he wouldn’t put up with it. normally, he would drive himself crazy. normally...well, what did it matter? this wasn’t normally.
just because he was obsessed with finding that one magical word didn’t mean he had pulled himself away completely. he hadn’t. the time he spent actually with carly sutton, well he didn’t care about much at all. yeah yeah, he didn’t know why. fuck off. it was because of this “whatever” that nothing else really mattered. this electricty, this connection. those were the terms closest to the truth. he was fine with that for now. when that charged up the room, everything else faded into oblivion. because nothing with them was average. she was normal, a successful dancer with a family who loved her and a circle that supported her no matter what. she was a happy, healthy citizen who didn’t deserve to know any of this shit even existed. him? well, he was the scum-sucker who hid in the sewers three blocks from her house. he was a degenerate criminal who tortured and killed to get what he wanted. and he had no problem in doing it. he wasn’t happy. he wasn’t healthy. and he didn’t have a family who loved him. his circle only supported him because they knew they’d get shot if they didn’t. iron fist loyalty doesn’t really read the same as love and warmth. but the fact that this electricty was here, a comforting glow? it definitely wasn’t average. above average wasn’t the right word, either. but well...none of that really mattered. i hope you know that by now.
he was rational. he knew the dangers and the complications. all of that had been blended together when he’d taken a break from obsessing over his wordsearch. all that would come crashing down the second something teetered over the edge. it would be messy. an ugly mess than only his russian bravata could provide. the threat was there, looming above them both. she already knew that other scum-sucking criminals were interested in her. he was keeping everyone on a need-to-know basis. no one needed to know that the russian ears were at alert. he’d been told. no one needed to say anything, but the air was thick with warning. put one toe out of line and someone was going to die. they didn’t really care who. if this assignment became anymore trouble than it was worth, they were going to fix it themselves. the verrentenikovs didn’t care about a lot. his rational ear knew that. but they kept an eye on things. they didn’t like to keep things messy. it could be complicated, a battlefield stained with blood. as long as it wasn’t a fresh mess that still held the scent of rotting food. their own complications were one thing, and he knew that. he obsessed over it. but the danger that he was really beginning to ignore? well, that wasn’t good. and uh, you know what? i don’t think he really cares.
it was bipolar. back and forth. here and there. yes and no. whatever. one minute, jamie was all logic, looking at this from outside. aware of the dangers of everything. and the other? uh well...it was way over there and he had long stopped looking for it. the warm glow of electricity was something new, fascinating. he liked it. he liked it a lot. he liked how he felt when he was around carly, how things just seemed to make more sense. he liked how he didn’t have to put up with everything else. he liked everything about it. but sometimes that isn’t the peer who is first in line. it was there and they both were aware of it. they were both giving in and it didn’t really matter anymore. but it was still bipolar, on a manic episode without medication. dangers, criminals, guns, death. and then their own complications. his logic for that was quickly overtaken by the “oh hey, by the way, my own people are scarier than the ones who are after you.” he couldn’t really think clearly about those anymore.
he was clearly unconcerned. a little more than tipsy, a step away from cigarette withdrawal. normally that’s a very bad thing. but remember that thing about carly making everything better? it was still there. he was surprisingly...well, chipper wasn’t the right word. chipper for moody jamie collins. but her? it took about two minutes for jamie to realize that she wasn’t quite as unconcerned. that, or she thought he was some waste of space who should explode soon, because it was annoying. probably a little bit of both. he’d long stopped paying attention to anything that he should be paying attention to. that’s why the “their complications” bit sort of came foreign to him. chewing down on his gum, jamie watched carly for a minute. she normally rolled her eyes at his stupid jokes. just because this “whatever” was hanging in the room...well, he should probably pay a little more attention. he didn’t know how the fuck to approach this situation. any of them. this connection, and the complications that came with it. he often forgot that he was a hot mess with a bad attitude and an even worse way of going about things. so he was unconcerned and oblivious. probably stupid. she...wasn’t. he was finally coming to terms with that. see? she was fucking normal. she spent her time evaluating the situation and what came with it. he just evaluated the ways he could describe it.
idiot. moron. creten. fool.
toying with the cigarette his lungs were longing for, he remained quiet for a minute. just watched her, the soberness crawling back into his features. sort of. ”i agreed to give you your space. let you live your life. without me polluting your routine, i mean.” his nostrils flared a little at her words, unsure of how to respond. no where to be found? i guess the trust isn’t the same as the attraction. i think he knows that now. ”i was at work. living my own life. my bar is behind on its liquor order.” he offered a sad smile, stepping on the glass carefully. he had no fucking clue what he should be doing. part of him was offended, ready to fire all weapons. but he couldn’t. not with her. he carefully sat on the armrest of the chair closest, legs swinging in the air. he was still searching her face, as unattached and unimpressed as it was. she was still flawless. his eyebrows merely raised as her tone grew defensive. it was just a car. and clearly a lame attempt at a joke. ”i was kidding.” his own tone had grown shallow, almost frustrated. he was walking carefully, but he didn’t know what he should be looking for. alcohol made him stupid. clearly. he fell quiet as she sat up on the stage, playing with her hands. she didn’t want to explain, tell him. he got it. that’s fine. but he was still quiet, still just toying with that god damn cigarette.
an outlet. what else was there to say? it was the perfect description. it was the lack of a perfect description that had he obsessing. and ignoring. then making a bigger mess. and it was all a vicious circle that was going to drive him to the nut house. he’d been so obsessed over this lack of perfection that he hadn’t taken the time to look at it the way carly had. whatever she’d done, it obviously made a little more sense to her. a wry smirk crossing his features, jamie merely nodded. he understood, but he didn’t really. having a real outlet was a foreign concept to him. killing people mercilessly can’t really be the same thing. ”okay.” he was struggling to find other words. ”i just know it’s important to you. i don’t think the most important things can really be described. i get it, what you mean.” his own attempt at...i’m not sure. not prying? he didn’t quite understand the feeling, but he could rationally understand where it came from. he couldn’t find any description for this whatever, could he? it was like her dancing. no real words. ”then can you tell me,” his voice had softened considerably the last several minutes, mirroring his slow approach. he furrowed his brows for a second, looking for the right words. ”what i did? every outlet needs an input. and i doubt this entire mess is easy for you.”
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, carmie !
LENGTH, 1917 words.
ATTIRE, black pants, black button-down.
NOTES, holy shit this is bipolar.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to poets of the fall - "passion colors everything"
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Post by caroline isabelle sutton on Jun 16, 2011 19:04:25 GMT -6
VALKYRIE, CALIFORNIA, ASTAIRE STUDIOS, EARLY MORNING, JANUARY 2012 [/font][/center] -----all anyone ever wanted for themselves was a good life. carly was pretty sure that people didn't go around wishing for the worst things in life to happen, at least she assumed as much. sure there were people in the world who walked around trying to get into trouble because they were angry at the world or crying out for help. sure there were people in the world who looked to hurt themselves because they wanted attention or some kind of sympathy. it was a sad, cruel world, but thos were people who were sick in the head or sick in their judgment and didn't know what a life was like where happiness ruled overall. people didn't look for misery. sometimes they expected it and some times it was all they could hope to come into contact with because they didn't believe in themselves enough to think that they were capable of such good. there were those who looked at the world and had been so talked down and so disgusted that any time they met a person or walked down the street all they could see was someone looking to hurt them or someone who looked down on them for one reason or another. there were those who thought down on themselves because they felt themselves unequivocal. they didn't think they measured up the way the world wanted them to and they couldn't accept that in their own way they were beautiful. originality and uniqueness seemed to go out the window in the case of most people. everyone wanted someone else's nose or body shape or leg length. everyone wanted to be a little bit taller or a little bit smaller, a little bit thinner or a little more blonder. it was a ridiculous and shallow world that they lived in for sure. carly didn't understand why people couldn't be happy with who they were.
-----for the most part carly couldn't be happier with the person she was. there were things that just about anyone wished they could change. carly wished that as a teenager she'd had a lot better feelings toward herself and her family to the point that she hadn't needed to go out to bonfires in farmer's fields where kids her age and older would meet up to drink and self destruct. she hadn't been as happy a person then as she was now. she hadn't accepted herself for who she was or looked at the world as a place of opportunity, not as a place hell bent on bringing her down. but carly had one fallback there in her reasoning. at the time when she'd thought no one understood her and she'd sought out attention, carly had been a teenager raging with hormones and trying to find her place in the world. she hadn't known at that time that she would become an unwed teenage mother and social pariah of an entire small town. she had no idea that she would come to absolutely love her daughter and the responsibility that came with that nor could she ever imagine taking on that new life and having it define her. yes she was a teenage mother but she was also a role model. yes she'd made mistakes but she preached on how to help yourself and the world around you by accepting yourself and by helping out those in need. carly had made many mistakes in her time, this much was true, but she had done nothing with those mistakes in the negative fashion. she'd taken everything that had been dealt to her, everything that people had berated her for and used to tear her down, and turned it around to build herself up and make her words and her morals stronger. now she was a person to admire. she took to the responsibility of being a mother and she took it to extremes. she refused to burden her parents with her child as they had assumed she would when she'd given birth. she took on caring for lily like it was her lot in life because it was. having a child at such a young age had changed carly for the better.
-----of course with all that in the rear view mirror it was hard to understand why carly could be so taken with a criminal. now carly was the first to preach that she didn't like to define people. she had been defined in those younger years and it had been the most hurtful and degrading thing she'd ever experienced. but her definitions had been untrue. the people who had called her a home wrecker and a slut had known absolutely nothing about the situation and more so they didn't care to know the truth. carly knew the truth. the man standing before her, weaving in his drunken stupor, was her bodyguard. he was assigned to her because a rival gang or mob or organization or whatever had saw her as a suitable target for revenge for some act and had put a hit on her. they wanted to use her as a weak chink in the armor of whatever company jamie worked for. that was the truth. the truth also was that jamie carried weapons and was ready to take anyone down should he need to not only for her safety but for his own. not to mention the fact that jamie carried these weapons knowing full well the consequences of his actions should he feel the need to use them. that word, should, that was where carly made these distinctions. that was where she didn't lose herself to delusions. she didn't see jamie's ability to carry and use weaponry as a necessity. sure it was nice for getting the upper hand on an individual but it wasn't necessary for dealing with a situation. the truth of the matter was that carly wasn't living in this attraction under the blinders that jamie was doing what he had to do. jamie was working under the assumption that he was doing what he chose to do and that was a very different concept entirely. he wasn't a soldier by force he was a soldier by choice. maybe he wouldn't think so should a person ask him, but the truth of the matter was that there was always a way to get out, jamie just didn't want the out badly enough to go looking for it.
-----it wasn't like carly's choosing her occupation. that was something she worked for and strived for. it was something that called to her and lit her up like fireworks in a midnight sky. it was anything and everything for her next to the importance her daughter held overall. dancing was everything to her. it was her mode of expression and of dealing with issues. it was the way she got across her utmost deepest emotions without saying a word. carly could throw herself into music, get lost in it, and with a few movements of her body tell a person anything she wanted to convey. little did jamie know that what he had witnessed, and what she had tried to convey, was the battle within herself over what she was exactly feeling for him. it was a cruel tug of war back and forth between her head and her heart which she showed the way her arms flew out to her sides like they were trying to pull away from her body entirely and the way she spun so fast as if she was trying to spin in on herself and somehow disappear. there was so much hidden in her movements, some only carly could make sense of, but for the rest of the world it was a beautiful form of entertainment. strange. "i don't consider your presence pollution and you know that."
[/b] she said in vain. she was scared and she was sure her words were as back and forth as the battle going on in her mind and body. she didn't try to be so vague and unintelligible, it just managed to happen whenever he was around. just like how she couldn't completely put her thumb on the reason why she got so defensive when jamie brought up her rust bucket. "i...um...oh."[/b] she said as a rosy blush lit up her cheeks. "i knew that."[/b] -----she was most self conscious about her dancing because he'd stumbled upon it. she was most self conscious about her outlet because she knew what it all meant and she wasn't quite sure if that message was as easily legible to others as it was to her. did her confusion over this attraction read into her movements? could he see her frustration and her inward battle just by how she moved to the rhythm and beat of one song? carly wasn't sure and the fact that he might know and just hadn't said anything...well it rattled her. she tried playing it off as nothing when really it just came across as strange, like she was trying to shut herself off from him. that wasn't the case at all. she just didn't know what he'd seen or interpreted and carly didn't want to be confessing anything to him without actually confessing things to him. "what you did? you didn't do anything other than, eh, i don't know...what you're supposed to be doing i guess."[/b] she looked over at him, his soft words and his softened features. he just looked like someone who could keep her safe, someone she wanted to keep her safe. her brow furrowed and her arms wrapped around her sides as she hunched over slightly, pretty much hugging herself for comfort, "i'm just...not used to this. i'm not used to having my life in danger and i'm not used to having to look over my shoulder and i feel so much better when you're around because i don't feel like i have to be afraid and you weren't here this morning and it just wears on my fraying nerves and i'm just scared. i'm fucking scared!"[/b] carly finally said as she palmed her forehead in her hands and just sat there, legs dangling off the stage and with her head in her hands. -------------------------------------------------------- status • finished
words • 1748.
tagged • carmie !
clothes • clicky !
notes • sorry it’s late. muse finally struck. [/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify] |
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Post by james devon sakahrov-collins on Jul 1, 2011 1:53:42 GMT -6
-----------------------------------------------------------JANUARY, 2012. EARLY MORNING. ASTAIRE STUDIOS.
[/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] ,EVERYONE WOULD HAVE their opinions, like always. they would think their own thoughts and be done with it. of course no one agreed with that. they all thought their own interpretation was correct. don't go getting offended now, it's just the way things are. people form an opinion, a point of view. in real life, that's the way the wheel turns. it's what stems conversations and debates. plenty of people make a living off of opposing viewpoints. but when you bring in the grey areas, things grow complicated. people would have their opinions on jamie collins, person. and then they would have their opinions on jamie collins, rumored criminal. he didn't care what "normal" people cared about him as a human being. he had better things to do with his time. it was those suspended between safety and danger, suspiscious but cautious, that haunted him. it was their words, their comments. because they were not some judgemental accountant with an irrelevant existence. if you knew of jamie's ties to the russian bravata, you were suddenly of some level of importance. and your time-wasting opinions were something of interest.
he should not care. few did. but when something concerns you, don't you pay attention? pierce thought he was pathetic, a waste. not just because he listened to the words spoken over his name, but we're not talking about that. but it was bullshit. this was one of the topics jamie was confident that he wasn't the only one caught between. pierce himself kept an ear out for what people gossiped about, their opinions. so his older brother was a pathetic waste for more than one reason, too. but no. he shouldn't care, but he did. it was his human nature (we'll get to those later, you prying douche). even during his childhood, jamie was affected by the words of others. while most charlestown families were unaware of just how deep the collins' criminal ties were, many casually knew they did not make clean livings. it was their opinions that mattered at the time. see, not completely irrelevant to his criminal ways. hope you're following. what they said about his rebellious adolescence; his carelessness for the law. it was rarely "oh, he's just a kid playing with his friends." it was always "ten bucks says he's in jail in a month." it grew dirtier the older he got. that was when others, neck-deep with illegalities, flicked their acid tongues. he shouldn't of cared then. and he definitely should have grown immune by the time of his initiation.
have you heard that the russian internal affairs are messier than their outside dealings? have you heard that stanislav verrentenikov himself was talking to some associate? did you see kat novikova's sister was still alive? sasha verrentenikov is here too! i heard she's going crazy. really? i heard that she's dying, like her mom. pierce got his sister in jail. well yeah, but she just got released. how did you not know that? who the fuck cares about what they do? the rumor mill of the verrentenikov russian bravata was much more entertaining.
see? everyone will have their opinions. he didn't care what it did to everyone else. accountants and lawyers and soccer coaches and pizza delivery guys - let them have their judgements. when he was growing up, it was the blatherings of charlestown families walking the fine line of rough neighbourhood and the real dance. those affected him then. he hated people looking down on him just because of what they'd heard, what they thought he did. the actual criminal thing would have made them shut up, he liked to sickeningly think from time to time. but once he was pushed onto the dance floor, forced to play two-step with the real bad guys, he realized what their opinions did. the rumors were often true. from outside the bravata, and in. that was the issue with being a "russian", there was no warmth. the members were just as cruel as their irish or italian counterparts. their words were often more hateful in this competition for recognition. let everyone else have their opinions. it was the words of his fellow russian workerbees that tore at him.
it just worsened as he got older. you know how they say you grow out of insecurities like that? fucking lies. the longer jamie was around, the more insecure he felt. he foolishly kept an ear open for shameless, pathetic gossip concerning his name. it was his form of self-harm, i guess you could say, to feed his confidence issues. the words people spoke on the topic of jamie collins were often dark ones, unfortunate and ugly. the irish said blind things - everything they sprouted was invalid. no one took them seriously. the italians spit malodorous saliva all over their meatballs. they all spoke of the compliant ruski. he was steel-hearted and icy-eyed. just like every boring russian. it was the words of his own that stalked him, grim smiles and acid-tongued echoes. they repeated it all. repeated, tittered crassly, and repeated again. they liked to add their own color interpretations too. "inhuman torture whore without a single original thought. robotic ruski dancing in the rain. i hope he rusts. ass-kissing bastard. pathetic. nothing like his parents. never live up to his brother. he doesn't deserve to have his name. they probably hate him. he doesn't have enough personality to be hated." it continued. it became intricate, a delicate web of chuckled insults and taunts. he saw them everytime he looked in the mirror.
it fed his darkness. jamie collins knew of his endless whirlpool of issues. he had just become an expert at not dealing with them. he took these words like a cutter takes a razor to their skin. he watched as he absorbed them, then waited for the blood to flow. it gave him a disturbing level of satisfaction to know everyone else felt the same way about him as he did about himself. the only time there was positive anything surrounding him was when he made a successful kill. when he completed a task to utter perfect, often painting it to be even more twisted than intended. the verrentenikovs approved of his sick outlet, inflicting his own pain onto someone else. jamie collins liked to keep his subjects alive for too long. he bled them for everything they had, and then came back for more. he'd rip open their wounds and pour acid into them. watching their eyes roll back, their screams turn hoarse, halted his own blood flow. that was his darkness. a steady stream of familial inferiority, ugly words, struggling emotionally, loose canon, not loose canon, and whatever else flowed into that darkness. the empty abyss that took the position where his so-called soul should be. hateful shadows were quick to cover any semblance of light. they only ever lingered in the brightness to later taunt him. he knew it would come, but he rarely let it expose itself. he would have turned himelf off by that time. the only time he came to life again was to leak some of his darkness, maybe smile a few times. then he'd turn to stone.
one day it was going to kill him. but he was fine with that. his screws would come loose eventually and his venom was going to destroy everything. he knew that. but like everything else, he washed it down with smoke or alcohol or killing someone and went on with his life. when it stopped working, he'd find something else to use.
right here, right now, jamie hadn't turned himself off. the little red button was flirting with switching to "on", but it wasn't time yet. his shadows had yet to come out to play. they gnawed on his mind, naturally. they always did. but he managed to swallow them down and continue. one minute he was clouded with hating himself, and the next he was watching caroline sutton, clearly concerned over the very people who fed his insecurities. she hated them too. you don't get put into this situation and want to befriend everyone. most of the bravata members would terrify her. many of them had the ability to intimidate him, the "one and only jamie collins". please put the sarcasm where you find appropriate. they would have their opinions on her. and she probably had opinions on them. behind her dark eyes, jamie could see she had her own judgements of him. maybe not of him as a person. but him as a ruthless, cold-hearted russian criminal. he was there by choice, he did all of this scary shit because he wanted to. she was right to think that. yes, he would probably feed that to himself negatively later, but he wasn't quite there yet. we aren't at that point in the cycle.
he hadn't said anything yet. smirked at a few of her words, maybe chuckled lightly. but nothing audible. once that crack had slipped into her eyes, jamie's mind had fogged. but you already knew that. he'd been obsessing over opinions and rumors and how much russians really do suck. but a single blink and stepping on the logic pedal had pushed it back again. he listened to her speak, throwing her vulnerabilities to the empty theatre's air. he paused and simply mused. he was russian bravata member by choice, he had been born into it. and the only people he ever dealt with had been born into similar organizations. said of which measured on much lower levels, but the same theory. whenever his interactions went outside of mindless italians servant, it was to affect them. weaknesses and messes they hadn't cleaned up. the people like carly. but then the only times he walks those circles it was to turn them inside out, make an example of loose ends. he had never been on the recieving end. the fright in her eyes...was this how those people felt? the innocent, caught in a web of violence, people who he offed to piss off some italian? it was different. yeah, she could have her opinions. but there was no reason to look beyond it, not like he did with the other russians. her life was the important bit here. i guess he hadn't really thought about it like that until now. he was supposed to prevent someone doing what he often did best. it was fucking weird.
but he didn't know how to work on this end of it. like he insisted, those rumors were true. jamie collins was often a mindless, subservient ruski who couldn't look farther than his reflection. he killed people because he was told to. he was told to make sure no one killed caroline sutton. that's fine, but the work followed him for longer than taking a life did. he couldn't finish this in one night. he had to watch out for someone. working against someone else, killing off the russian target, was different. you look out for you and torment the people connected. he had to watch out now, make sure there was no one thinking they could beat him at his favorite game. those opinions were true. he hated it, but it was. and then we have her vulnerability, her fright. it wasn't his job to let carly know he was hesitant on how to handle the bigger picture. so all he did was breath, exhaled a few sharp breaths and took a few steps toward her. "you should be. driving a car like that around? you might get arrested." his tone was light, masking the confusion lingering in his eyes. he still don't know how to react in this entire assignment. pushing himself onto the stage, sitting beside her, he watched her for a minute. carefully placing his cancer stick behind his ear, he slowly extended his arm, crossing her back and pulling her tiny body toward his. she wasn't a person who did better flipping the world off and doing shots until the fright went anyway. that's what he did. "hey," his voice was lowered, barely above a whisper. he pulled her into his body, holding her there tightly. "it's not your job to look over your shoulder. that's why i'm here. and i promise, promise, that nothing is going to happen to you," he spoke firmly, eyes directed down at her. moving his mouth uneasily, he slowly intertwined his fingers with hers. "you're allowed to be scared. but you don't have to think beyond that. i won't let you. no soprano will mess with anything unless i want them to."
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, carmie !
LENGTH, 2105 words.
ATTIRE, black pants, black button-down.
NOTES, holy late. and it sucks too. lame.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to poets of the fall - "passion colors everything"
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Post by caroline isabelle sutton on Jul 1, 2011 9:58:55 GMT -6
VALKYRIE, CALIFORNIA, ASTAIRE STUDIOS, EARLY MORNING, JANUARY 2012 [/font][/center] -----well...carly's family wasn't nearly so interesting, that much was for sure. she didn't have family members or ties to different families that liked to off one another. she didn't have such a bad relationship with her family that she was likely to whip out some kind of weapon if she ever came into contact with them again. actually her family looked like the damn bradys next to jamie and his familial ties. of course carly didn't know all of this...yet, but she did know that jamie wasn't used to the kind of like she was raised it. she was quite sure that it had been a long time, if not forever, since jamie had ever felt loved or ever felt some kind of trusting embrace he could get lost in. that was a real shame. carly, she was used to the lovey dovey huggy family life. she was used to having brothers who would go out and beat some boy up or scare the life out of a group of girls when they had been mean to her or made her come home in tears. she was used to having people like her sister in her life who was there the night she went into labor and had stood at her bedside letting carly squeeze the life out of her hand because everything effing hurt. she was used to parents who gave up all their free time just to work themselves to the bone to make sure enough food made it on the table for four kids. you know, things like that.
-----carly loved her family beyond a doubt but the best part about her family was that they'd done everything the right way. or at least they'd lived life to carly's definition of the right way. sure things had gone to hell one too many times and sure they'd had some major troubles here and there that had caused them to give up some things in their life in order to keep life livable, but the suttons had never gone about getting by the wrong way. what was the wrong way in carly's eyes? well...pretty much the way jamie had been raised to make a living. she didn't understand the point of organized crime which had basically waltzed right into valkyrie and made itself home. more to the point, she didn't understand how she couldn't have noticed these things going on after living here for as long as she had. one would have thought that with the crime families that had moved in, people would have taken notice. she felt like she'd been had, but then again it wasn't like carly had been running in the kind of circles that would have run into those kinds of people. she'd never been a 'bad' girl growing up though it had been her adopted connotation after getting knocked up in high school.
-----it kept sounding more and more like carly would look down on someone with jamie's lifestyle but that really wasn't the case. carly wasn't sure why she didn't just run away from jamie like her hair was on fire. he was dangerous but at the same time he showed her no ill will. he was an apparent killer but he'd never once threatened her nor had he ever made her feel like she wasn't completely safe around him. that was the strangest part. even sitting here on the stage some few feet in front of him, she didn't feel the need to run. in all actuality she actually felt as if she'd be in more danger the further away from him she was. try making sense of that one because carly certainly couldn't. how could she feel safer when she was closer to the man with a gun? maybe it was because the gun wasn't being pointed at her. it wasn't like she was flirting with danger here right? it wasn't like she was walking up to the man who was going to put a bullet in her head and just daring him to actually do so. this was a man who'd been asked to protect her. if there was any way a gun was going to be pointed it wasn't going to be at her right? that kind of helped things along but it still didn't justify why she felt so safe with someone who was so ready to palm a weapon against another person.
-----jamie had no problem killing people...so why didn't that effect her? she hadn't been introduced to him as a killer. the first time she'd seen him he'd just been another guy at bad seeds and she'd just been some local celebrity. things had been so much easier then. but that was the past and though things had come to light now in the present, carly still couldn't bring herself to see him as otherwise. made no sense but then again nothing about this situation made sense either. carly had a hit o her head for no reason other than to preoccupy russian time. she was nothing more than a distraction, part of which scared her. what was she supposed to do if jamie's...superiors felt like she was just a wasted effort? what would he do if they just told him to kill her and be rid of the whole mess in general. it was like she couldn't trust anyone but at the same time all she wanted was to trust jamie and know that he was true to his word. she didn't know why but she did in fact believe him when he promised to protect her. she didn't want to think that it was possible he would ever turn those same pistols or whatever he liked to use on her. jesus this would have been so much easier if she'd just never known about the darker nature of this stupid town.
-----but then again he would just look at her with those bloodshot eyes and carly couldn't help but believe the words coming out of his mouth were genuine. it was probably the first time he'd ever made a promise like that to anyone judging by the way he was handling things and the unfamiliar feel to his voice. jamie probably wasn't used to this at all and though it came naturally to carly, it was probably a real internal war with jamie. she listened to his half-assed attempt at a joke and tried to smile but the moment she felt him beside her and felt him pull her closer and hold her there, she just couldn't fight it. she slid as close to him as she could, draping her legs over his lap as she buried her head against his shoulder, her ears tuned in to every one of his comforting words. she silently listened to his promise to protect her and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying not to cry. this really wasn't her week by far. her eyes opened as she felt his hand against hers, watching his fingers as they intertwined with hers, holding her securely. she heaved a sigh and nodded as he finished speaking. "i believe you. it just gets overwhelming sometimes. i...i just don't know how to handle all of this."
[/b] she said as she smoothed her fingers over his, bringing their clasped hands to her mouth as she kissed the top of his hand. "i don't know what i would do without you here right now."[/b] she said as she finally looked up at him, her eyes locking on his. "i don't know how to thank you. for all of it. i wouldn't feel safe if it weren't for you."[/b] -------------------------------------------------------- status • finished
words • 1281.
tagged • carmie !
clothes • clicky !
notes • short...ewwww. [/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify] |
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Post by james devon sakahrov-collins on Jul 14, 2011 16:52:25 GMT -6
-----------------------------------------------------------JANUARY, 2012. EARLY MORNING. ASTAIRE STUDIOS.
[/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] ,EVEN THOUGH HE was aware didn't mean he understood. that was the way much of jamie collins' life had been. he saw the reality, comprehended the actuality. but the emotion was absent. he never quite accepted people's feelings. what they felt, why they felt it. it all came so naturally to them. it was a foreign concept to jamie, for feelings to flood in that quickly. there was a process when it came to dealing with his own emotions; a long, restrictive process he rarely completed. how was it so simple? most didn't have to think about it. they accepted the emotional side and allowed it as much control as it liked. happiness, sadness, anger, grief, excitement...the endless list that brightened one's eyes. it didn't matter what it was. he didn't understand any of it. he knew about it. he could even display a convincing grin. but the actual act of experience was a fogged unknown. he just...didn't get it, to put it in third grade terms. he needed a tutor.
usually, he didn't even bother. it was the way he'd been raised. the person james collins could have been is a mystery. had he been brought up with happy parents, christmas dinners and ugly presents from grandma, he could have been different. happy, sad, whatever. but it was never going to happen. he chose not to think about it. that was left for his sister, who had to adventure into the unknown. he understood realities. this was his. his "normal" was complicated language, fighting techniques and cleaning guns. it was looking in the mirror and telling yourself that no, this is not going to effect you. you are doing what you are because it's your job. it is your life. and the scummy italian deserves a bullet between the eyes. he lives the exact same life, and he wouldn't hesitate. his family did something to wrong yours, and that cannot stay unbalanced. this was the shit he'd been raised in. he'd stopped bothering with christmas dinners at home when he was fifteen. what was the point of bothering? sitting around contemplating what could have been, the person he had the potential to be. it didn't help anybody. but still. he couldn't go his entire life without toeing the line with emotion. even the coldest russian killers felt something. their blood warmed when they saw their families, smiling through the moscow blizzards. they had mastered their control, but they still smiled a genuine smile from time to time. this is what he wanted to bother with.
normal people and their feelings...he'd stopped wondering long ago. he was aware of it, even accepted it. i think we've cleared this up. it was the emotional control of his fellow russians that stopped him. these people, he had the potential to be like them. part of him wanted to be. they had acheived such a balance, no sleepless nights were spent obsessing. just...how the fuck did they do it? how else could he phrase it? the most accomplished bravata members could split a skull in two, wash the blood from their hands, and go home to a lovely family dinner. he could kiss his wife, play with his children. no shadows stalked, threatening to collapse his house of cards. if there were, they would be bleeding in the back alley soon after. no shadow had the chance to bare its fangs if you could be balanced. this is a job, not a lifestyle. it is a familial tradition, not a curse passed through the generation. it was how they looked at it. he knew that. he had absorbed that very harmony growing up. ivan sakahrov could split his work from his play, perfectly. the flames dancing in his father's eyes were bright, excited for the day to come. his heart was soft, bleeding with empathy. he braided his affection into temperance as he pulled her hair back after a bubble bath. he would stop pierce, remind him of humanity. he struggled with jamie. everyone knew that. his middle child just didn't get it. he was too fucking stupid to realize how you could be cold-blooded and humane cohesively. you are one or the other. he still didn't get it.
and this is where he was falling apart. jamie was accustomed to storming at two hundred miles an hour. everytime he completed one assignment, he'd spit blood onto the pavement and ask for more. he never stopped long enough to feel the repercussions. him and ksenia had been around the globe and back. he didn't want to stick around long enough for the foreign demons to come out and play. he had enough of those, whispering to him in broken english. add italian, spanish and german tongues and he'd shoot himself in the head. he was too young for that. but he was here, trapped in valkyrie, california. it was no rumor that he was bored. he was agitated and uncomfortable, itching to feel dead flesh. jamie was here long enough for the demons to come out and play. they were settling around him and pretty black velvet, fond whispers that it'll be okay. don't worry, we've got it covered. we'll be here when you finally break and make a mess everywhere. his emotions were spilling through his dam and he didn't know what to do with it. he was never smart enough to learn. not for a lack of trying, dad, i'm sorry your kid is so fucking dumb. his edges were flirting with his demons, willing to let them gnaw until he broke. and why? all because he could acknowledge, but never understand. he was not capable of being a sociopath, not like kat or sasha. they could nod and absorb, but be fine with not understanding. he...couldn't. and look what was happening.
the closest jamie got to emotion was around carly; real, genuine feeling. his demons are no excuse for the blood rushing in, forcing his mind to feel something. those aren't real. inferiority and insecurity, pain and anguish. that isn't real. it's almost real, sub-real. yeah, that works. but he couldn't do anger or sadness, whatever goes along with those terms. around the maternal dancer, he felt the blood flowing through his veins. he was aware of his surroundings, not the ugliness laced inside. his movements felt more natural. uncomfortable and awkward, but not an obligation. it had been a long process to awareness. he didn't understand it, which they both knew. neither of them understood it. but he attested to it. and he was oddly okay with that. he was not looking in from the outside, brow furrowed as he studied everything in an attempt to weave a convincing mask. he just...did it. he went along with it. when the space between their bodies disappeared, there was no desire to pull away. half of it was him, entwining their fingers or pulling her closer to him. there was no thought put into it. his body simply reacted. it continued to stress his mind, but he was accustomed to it. anytime he wasn't pulling teeth, his mind was disagreeing. you get used to it. but this was a step, i guess. he was okay with it. he rested his chin on the top of her head, breath slow and calming. it was doable.
he felt her body shudder against his, even in the slightest. she was upset, probably terrified. he had accepted that a long time ago. of course he didn't understand it, but it was present. and the ease of some of this emotion or whatever it was made it simpler. jamie didn't have to agonize over it, trying to make some crying chick feel better. that happened every other time. at her words, he smiled lightly, a small curve of his mouth. |i'll go out on a limb and say no one is expecting you to. i have a difficult time with it sometimes. and i was raised in this shithole." well it might have been a bit of a lie, but it was still genuine. he had a difficult time with this entire life sometimes, not because he was scared but...well yeah. same thing. it made her feel better, he hoped. i think that's what people call comforting? "no one's expecting you to, either, there, miss. i wouldn't be doing my job if something happened." his tone only shifted when she looked up at him, their eyes locking. he tightened his grip on her body, pressing her against him. "i just don't want you to be afraid. normally, i don't give a fuck. but you're different, carly. i don't know why, but you are." his dark eyes searched hers, looking for an answer he probably didn't want.
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, carmie !
LENGTH, 1467 words.
ATTIRE, black pants, black button-down.
NOTES, i really hate this post.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to poets of the fall - "passion colors everything"
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Post by caroline isabelle sutton on Jul 15, 2011 20:49:05 GMT -6
VALKYRIE, CALIFORNIA, ASTAIRE STUDIOS, EARLY MORNING, JANUARY 2012 [/font][/center] -----carly didn't know how to turn off her emotions. she didn't know how to go about living life like she was in some kind of impenetrable shell that no one could break through to make her feel. that was pretty much a physical impossibility for her and had been since, well, forever. carly was used to being a feeling being. it happened much more so now that she was a full time mother. you couldn't be a successful parents and not feel, at least not in her opinion. your children needed to see that on a constant basis you loved them more than anything else on the face of the planet. children needed to see you smile, they needed to see it was genuine. it was all the kind of normal reassurances they liked to see, something they could always tell was faked when it was. carly couldn't fake anything around lily. somehow or another that little girl always knew that carly was lying to her when she did. even if it was for lily's sake, one of those little white lies used to smooth things over during a period of time when things needed to be vague or altered in order for the well being of others. it seemed like even then lily knew that carly wasn't telling the whole truth. it was partly because carly made a point of always trying to be honest with her daughter. she didn't like lying to her and honestly she didn't believe in glossing over the facts just for their benefit. thankfully it hadn't been required that carly lie to her daughter about anything overly significant. simply little white lies like the existence of santa claus an things like that were always for her benefit but even those things that lily didn't seem to understand carly still tried making a point of describing it to her in a way that made sense. it never did sit right with carly when she had to lie to lily, but that was mostly one of carly's issues.
-----the only time when carly hadn't ever been in tune with her feelings had been during her pregnancy. that had been the only time she'd one her best to be devoid of emotions and even then it had always only been for the sake of that child. carly had very little doubt in her mind that if it hadn't been for her tuning out her peers in high school that she probably wouldn't have a little girl to go home to every night. that was just the extent of the cruelty laid on her by her fellow classmates during her pregnancy. now she understood. the way cain had laid things out from the moment he'd found out the news had made carly look like some kind of home wrecking slut who wanted nothing more than to get knocked up in order to have some kind of claim over him as the father of her unborn child. she could understand how some people would have liked to jump on that bandwagon and blame her, thinking that cain was telling the truth. the one thing that never made sense was that in one moment she had friends standing by her side and in the next everyone had turned on her. that was the only thing that never sat well with carly was the fact that people had been to quick to judge her. they'd been so quick to believe that she was capable of such a thing. they believed that carly, who had never been anything other than nice to most if not all of these people, was some kind of scum of the earth, low down whore. that was a really quick judgment on the part of her former friends. it was also part of the reason why, even though in valkyrie there was a hit on her head, she wasn't in any rush to go back to keizer. it really was sad that she would rather face death via the barrel of a gun then go back to the town that she'd called home for a majority of her life. at least she could say that in valkyrie she had friend who liked her for her. the same could not be said for people in keizer. not by a long shot.
-----she preferred to be in valkyrie no matter what because there were people here that she thought, or was pretty damn sure, she could trust. she didn't have that back in keizer except for in the case of her family. that was never the question. regardless of the fact that most sutton children had gone their separate ways and made lives for themselves, it was undeniable that no matter what the situation might be that they were there for one another. if carly was ever in a jam they would be there for her and the same could be said for carly and her siblings. she may have been the youngest and so far the biggest screw up out of the sutton clan but that didn't mean that her parents, brothers and sister were always coming to her rescue. it just kind of seemed that way because they'd yet to get so deep into trouble as carly had time and time again. and she didn't like being such a worry wort but it was just the kind of things that mothers do. the only part about this whole thing was that it didn't involved only her. if things got out of control or if this whole situation went to hell it wouldn't just blow up in carly's face. the blowback would spread to her daughter, her mother, her brothers and sister, her friends, and probably her reputation as well. carly had done a good job of keeping things pretty much sparkly and clean for the press an for her fans but the moment they foun out about her dying in some way that just screamed mob activity her judgment and everything else about her was bound to be brought into question. the toughest part would be not being able to stand there an defend herself, defend her daughter. because carly knew better than anyone else that people were cruel. she had no doubt that should anything bad come of this that lily would be taunted as a mobster's daughter or something and that stuck with you for life more so that teenage mother.
-----that was the last thing she wanted to leave her daughter with the same kind of backlash that she'd had as a kid. it wasn't fair to any one person to be labeled as something they weren't and carly knew far too much about labels. as such, she might just be wrong about what she was so quick to envision jamie being like. she didn't know his past or how he grew up. she could only talk with certainty about things she knew to be true and that didn't include him. wasn't so bad though. just meant she had more to get to know about him right? she could only make judgments about him by who she saw before her and that person had yet to really show her a side of himself that she should be scared of. that notion, as well as the closeness they now shared, helped to calm carly's nerves a tad. she leaned against his shoulder, her thumb gently brushing over his fingers. this was nice. this wasn't something she'd been expecting at all not from a mobster and certainly not from the man she'd wound up making out with behind bad seeds bar. all of this was a side of jamie that carly had never anticipated. she liked it. it was easy to like this version she saw sitting behind her. "i can't imagine that it was easy for you to go through as a child. glad to see you haven't lost your humanity."
[/b] she said with a slight smile. "yes i know. but your life would be a whole lot simpler if you didn't have to protect me like this. not that i don't appreciate it and all."[/b] she shrugged, chuckling slightly, "it's almost sad though. in new york i didn't have bodyguards because it just felt too strange. now i move back to my home town where i feel safest and i need you. it's all a little surreal."[/b] she felt his arm curling in on her as he pulled her in closer, listening to his words attentively as he spoke them. "i wish i could tell you the answers but i don't have them."[/b] she said honestly as she was not the type to take his indecisiveness and turn it in her favor. "all i know is that i feel safe with you and i trust you. i don't know why either but that's just the way it is and i need to embrace that. until then, that's all i can tell you. anything else you have to figure out on your own. your wants, needs, anything. you're the only one who can answer those questions."[/b] she said with a half smile as she looked down at their interlocked hands. "what do you think you want?[/b] she asked without looking up at him. she didn't want him to feel like she was putting him on the spot. -------------------------------------------------------- status • finished
words • 1567.
tagged • carmie !
clothes • clicky !
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