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Post by remy on Nov 24, 2011 4:23:53 GMT -6
 ,"Y'KNOW, CHUCK, YOU are contributing to the dissolving of my physique." her words, accented with broken montreal english, were thick with playful disdain. an unimpressed smirk crossed remy persephone tremblay's freckled face. her long fingers toyed with the neck of her dark bottle, half filled, as she raised her eyebrows at the chuckling bartender. charles anderson never left this place. his grubby little pub, dubbed 'the honest lawyer'. she and several other regulars had a private bet circulating: did he have his own house? did he sleep in the attic upstairs? remy here had sixty bucks on he wheeled a little cot out of his office and slept right here, behind the bar. her little dive bar would be lost without its grizzled owner. six weeks in valkyrie, california, and she had dubbed it as her own. no one argued. the crowd rarely changed - borderline retirees, worn and knobbly from forty years of blue-collar work; the odd banker or stock broker, successfully avoiding the life he really did not want to be living; maybe even hospitality slaves, searching for someplace better than their workplace. and remy. by all stereotypes, she did not fit this image. she was neither haggard nor overburdened. she was the pretty blonde girl with the funny accent - snarky mouth, obsessed with the sport no other californians enjoyed, and pool extraordinaire. and, apparently, her waistline was beginning to feel it. she was here everyday. for hours. her alcohol intake - beer and vodka-diets - was tripled since coming to valkyrie. her fridge was empty. it was all provided by chuck here. "that so?" gratification laced his answer, his crooked smile wrinkling the skin around his eyes. "i could cut you off those nachos." hm. no. the nachos here could easily own her life. if she were on deathrow, it would be her final meal. "and i could put you out of business. you're supposed to say i look fantastic." mocking the terrified tone every female in this damn town had mastered, the french-canadian slammed the bottle, now empty, back onto the bar. "when are you going to give me the employee discount? and when are you going to admit defeat. game over. habs win."
it was a decent pastime, pestering chuck to hire her. the only other staff member was an underworked, pathetically trained university student who never went to class. kevin, i think he said. he sucked. pretty girl in revealing clothing, extensive liquor knowledge, and the attitude to win - any bar could use that. the answer was always no. so she took his money instead. it was the middle afternoon on a dusty thursday, of course no one else was in here. her pool skills beat him every single time. he won at darts. and she won their bets. always. if there was one thing remy tremblay was good at, it was gambling. especially on sports. mister anderson and his disgusting obsession with american football, even. he had to pvr the games now, because remy complained enough for him to subscribe to nhl centerice. hockey took up the televisions. maybe football could be on the secondary flatscreen, way behind by the vlts. it was even on the radio sometimes. regardless, she won. whatever she wanted, she typically got. except a change in the time. it was such a fucking pain, rearranging her day two or three hours early in order to catch her hockey games. eastern united states - there was a reason she had lived there. the montreal canadiens, naturally, made the poor florida panthers look like pussies. and, naturally, chuck decided to go for the underdog. he always did. maybe that's why kevin was hired, not remy. he knew she was number one, so he went with the opposite. let's call it their private joke. the score flashed, four to three, all the way to a shootout. he gruffly chuckled and fished the thirty-five dollars from his apron. "when you are an employee and i can fire you. take your money and shut it, missy." she grinned triumphantly, pushing the wrinkled bills into the pocket of her shorts. "darts tomorrow. drew wants to play." motioning to the opening door with his dirty cloth, chuck nodded in greeting. andrew something, she never bothered to find out - thirty-something construction worker. the only person in the entire damn place who could beat her at every game. "no fucking fair. i get a discount because you insulted me." sticking out her bottom lip, remy threw twenty-five onto the counter. swinging her long legs around on the stool, she leaned onto drew's shoulder, kissing his cheek and smiling sweetly. "you'll play the game, lose, and you are going to like it." she loved this place.
beep.
the first genuine expression crossing her pretty face, remy fished her phone from her pocket. jamie. hotass mess from boston. she was surprised he wasn't dead yet. reminding her not to die. how nice, irony. very polite. not even bothering to reply, she shoved it back into her shorts and felt the floor under her feet. "well, gentlemen, a term i use loosely, that is call for departure. charles, get diet beer. and andrew, darling, we're not playing darts. we're betting." slipping her sunglasses over her light eyes, she waved lazily and quickly kicked through the front door. it was too fucking hot here. why did anyone live in this shattered little town? and why were the little children out and about? frowning, hands in her pockets, remy wandered down the side streets of valkyrie until she reached the downtown core. this place was too small. and even more little children were threatening to get into her personal space. teenagers in miniskirts and stilettos, with muddy makeup that made them look forty. she was ashamed to call herself a female. these were disgusting excuses for human beings. receiving a number of dirty looks from young glittering girls, licking their lipgloss from their lips, she merely chuckled. ugh. she hated these people. venecia, get your ass out of here and back to fucking boston. her eyes floating down to her watch, not really checking the time, her mind wandered back to her best friend. venecia moretti was, after all, the only reason she was here, in valkyrie. drama with their old friends. why were boys so ridiculous? luca giovanni was an official waste of space. and jamie collins was not far behind. speaking of them…and her best friend…remy's eyes floated back up and met the window of a convenience store. there were fifteen year-old boys inside, assuming they could steal something. wow. she pulled her phone from her pocket again, called jamie an ass, and opened the door with her foot.
the cold air was nice. it was like it knew she was arriving. little goosebumps rose on her bare arms, relieved to be away from that disgusting heat. it didn't take her long. grape slushie thing, a wide array of chocolate and strawberry ice-cream, and, she contemplated for a moment, three hilarious gossip magazines. and a box of overpriced tampons. just to look that desperate for a time of the month fix. smiling sweetly at the silent worker guy, she slid the remainder of what she'd taken from chuck across the counter and pulled the bag into her possession. this was going to be fun. i think. this is what the glittering girls would do, except they would fret over the calories and getting the wrong magazines. they got it all right now, correct? i think that's what she'd overheard. regardless, her and venny were never very good at being real california girls. cue that annoying katy perry song and she would vomit all over the floor. her arrival back into the heat was unfortunate. it was tanning her sensitive skin and she hated it. this place sucked. the weather blew a donkey's genitals. absentmindedly chewing on her straw, thankful for the purple ice, she continued her way through downtown valkyrie. for a place for midsized, it was ridiculous how difficult it could be to get around. another reason to leave - she had no way of transportation. her car was sitting in its designated parking stall back at her apartment building. the transit here was stupid. all she had were her blistered feet. seriously, how do those girls do it? walking around in stilts like it's normal. it's not. feet are supposed to be flat on the ground, or we would not be born that way. pathetic. amusing herself with graphic images of girls breaking their ankles, remy chucked her empty cup into the garbage can outside of the inferno: hotel and casino. finest place in the entire city. it looked like a museum in las vegas.
but the lobby was air-conditioned. and all the staff was obnoxiously good-looking. she could deal with it. not even bothering to speak with the stuffy front desk lady, remy strolled down the endless foyer. it was all marble and leather and stainless steal. how on earth did they keep it so sparkling? her own place was a fucking mess. whatever. impatiently pushing the elevator button, the silver doors finally arrived and she was welcomed with, surprise, more marble. and mirrors. and really stupid elevator music. we're not in some shitstorm in north dakota, can't they play like…music? apparently not. ignoring the raised eyebrows of the arguing businessmen behind her, yet not oblivious to both looking at her legs, she stumbled off at level eighteen. or something. venny was staying on a really high floor, and it was stupid. she literally took the stairs all the time. she was in charge of making sure her best friend wasn't the next richard simmons; it was kind of failing. swinging the plastic bag as she walked down the hallway, then another one, then another one, she stopped in front of the pretty door. who cared if the doors in a hotel were pretty? these people, apparently. she didn't understand them. wrapping loudly on it with her foot, remy swore softly in french and continued to kick. "venecia stefani moretti. you get your ass off that treadmill. we're having a slumber party! or something.
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- TAGGED, THE SNACKERS.<3
DATE, april, 2012. the inferno.
LENGTH, 1705 words.
ATTIRE, hurr.
NOTES, sorry it sucks. o-o
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to silversun pickups - "catch and release"
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Post by venecia on Dec 3, 2011 11:56:16 GMT -6
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---"I'M CATCHING THE NEXT FLIGHT OUT OF BOSTON." why were men so irrational? venecia moretti found it mildly amusing that her brother was more upset about her current situation than she was. johnny moretti was always a hot-headed, temperamental person though. it was easy to fire him up. venny herself was quite the fighter, but when put next to her older brother, she looked like a stone cold ice cube while he was more of a firecracker ready to launch. he never thought anything through, never considered the effects of his words before he spat them out on his quick silver tongue. there was a sort of hostility to him when he was angry, an aura that sent off a simple don't try anything with me vibe. his violent temper plus the fact that he had deadly aim? johnny moretti was dangerous. that was probably why he was so good at his job. "no you're not, i'm an adult, johnny." she muttered into the phone. "i'll-i'll kill him. we shelter him when he needs it, we befriend him, we were there for him, i can't believe he didn't even hint at it. he knew how you felt!" venny felt sick to her stomach. this was giving her a massive migraine, and she already didn't feel so hot. "exactly, johnny," she responded quietly. he was barely listening to anything she said, "he knew, and he didn't reciprocate. this is my fault. i was childish." he paused for a moment. the silence on the phone was deafening. venny was tempted to hang up and just explain she lost the call later. she was tired of talking, tired of all this emotion. it was a bit confusing to her anyway, why johnny was so upset. most egocentric, overly protective, older brothers were glad when their baby sister didn't have a love interest. it meant they didn't have to be worried. but then again, knowing her brother, she knew johnny would have been mad either way. had the odds been in her favor and everything worked out like she hadn't admitted, but secretly wanted them to, he would have gone ballistic, ranting about how it wasn't right. there was no winning with somebody like him. "johnny?" she finally said. why was she stupid enough to talk about this to him, anyway? she should have called mona. regret washed over her. suddenly she heard his infuriated voice on the other line, breathing a stream of italian curse words. venny wasn't listening anymore, she was just staring at the silent television screen that glowed in the pitch darkness of the room.
it was still making her dizzy, thinking about how her day had gone so far. only hours early she had run into luca giovanni while she was getting her coffee, minding her own business. it was an inglorious spurt of chance, pure unluckiness that brought them together. it was about time, though. she hadn't grown the courage to go talk to him yet. in fact, when he'd shown up out of the blue, she had made a decision. venny had decided to forget about him and go home. she missed her family, and she hated this dry, west coast weather. the sun was too hot, and the girls were all so fake. she snickered every time she looked at their shiny blonde hair and orange skin, their bleached white teeth and skimpy bikinis. venecia didn't look like them, with her olive toned skin and her dark hair. her best friend who'd come here didn't fit in either, she was pale and blonde. both of them were too tall and slender too. maybe if they freaky fridayed it out, they would fit in with this california population. take remy's hair, and venny's skin, and voila! they had the blonde, tan bombshell figure they needed to catch the attention of men. women on this side of the country had zero self respect. they marched about in clothes that barely covered their body parts, their parents paid for them to attend fancy schools they typically dropped out of, they slept with men for reasons beyond emotion, or even pleasure. little gold-diggers. sure, maybe venny and her partner in crime weren't exactly the most moral human beings... but they loved themselves. not in a conceited, egotistical way, but they really liked who they were as people, how they were brought up. it always made venny smile when she and remy would attract the attention of a man who a couple of slutty girls had been trying desperately hard to catch the eyes of. the blonde bimbo didn't always win. but that wasn't even any of the real reason she was ready to leave this picturesque california town. she wanted to leave because of luca, because she had made the decision that this wasn't where she belonged, or where she was even welcome. sure, the giovanni's would probably let her stay at the mansion, especially when they took care of luca, but she wasn't interested. she wanted to go back to sleeping in her own bed.
being here, in valkyrie, it was a mistake. she didn't know why she was acting like the pathetic, crazy ex-girlfriend. it wasn't who she was. venny had never been interested in serious relationships. that four letter word she refused to say out loud, it was a product of the devil. and regardless, it wasn't how she felt for him. you couldn't love somebody who didn't love though. and that made this a crush, an eleven year old girl crush. but love? maybe she was glad this hadn't worked out. she had never had a real relationship with the opposite sex. it wasn't something she ever desired to have. venny was the type of girl who had flings, but made up excuses to not be in a real romantic relationship. she would push the person away, or find flaws in them she didn't pay attention to before. yeah, she had some issues about commitment. but could anybody really blame her? when venny's brother had been killed, it tore her family apart. family meant the world, and it was always intertwined thickly with the word moretti. she would do anything, absolutely anything for anybody in her family. she would have taken that bullet for her brother, without a doubt. when he left this mortal world, her parents fell apart, and so did she and her siblings. it hit them all so hard. it still hurt today, even. but venny and her younger sister, mona, had been the ones to put the family back together. as much as it hurt to lose her brother, it killed her even more to see every member of her family suffering over it, her mother in particular. helping heal her family had helped heal her. the thing was... venny had seen her parents, and the bond between them. she knew her father would shoot his own brother between the eyes if it meant he could keep his wife safe. he loved her more than she could even put into words. venecia couldn't imagine loving anybody more than her own family. it was totally unfathomable. her father loved his family too, but it didn't compare to his love for venny's mother. when venecia lost her brother, the world had gotten so bleak. but what if she met her said soul mate? and what if she lost that person. it would tear her to shreds. if she loved them any more than she loved anybody else in her family, she couldn't even imagine the toll it would have on her to lose that person. it would truly break her heart, it might be the death of her. it was easier to not give somebody that type of hold over you, to give them ability to break you. that, and that alone was why love was a product of the underworld. it could damn a person. it could kill them. if somebody were to make a pros and cons list, venny had a feeling the cons would weight out. to be able to love somebody that much, she would have to give herself to them, to open up completely, and to give them a hold over her. they would own her.
quite frankly, she wasn't willing to do that.
"venecia moretti, are you listening to me?" johnny's voice brought her back from her sunshine reverie. she mumbled something of a "no" into the phone, laying down on the bed of her hotel room and closing her eyes. "look, all i'm saying is he doesn't deserve somebody like you, with your heart, do you hear me?" venny half smiled, but then it quickly turned into a frown. he was obligated to say that. it was one of those blood bond rules. "sure, sure," she nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "i have to go, john," she lied sheepishly. she was tired of talking, especially about this, and especially to johnny. this was going to drive her crazy, and she wanted to get back to moping in the darkness. "sure, you do, i love you, sorella," he said skeptically. he always called her sorella, the italian term for sister. it was like his little pet name for her. real creative, johnny-boy. venny said something back that sounded like russian. she hadn't a clue in the world what it meant, or if it was even real russian. she was just copying what she had heard other people say. johnny laughed into the phone, "you're a brat, i'll talk to you later, okay?" venny chuckled silently, "mhmm, tell mona to call me tonight." "will do, tell rem i said hi," and then he hung up the phone. god, finally. venny through the phone across the hotel room, listening to the shattering noise of it colliding with something else. that probably wasn't good for her little cellular device. oh well. she loved johnny, lord know she did, but he was so much effort. he was more distraught about all this than she was herself, it was almost like she had to comfort him. this was one of those moments where she missed mona dearly. that tiny little firework always knew the right thing to say. she was the most compassionate person venny had ever met with the exception of her own mother. yeah, she was about as girl as they came, but that usually didn't bother venny. she loved her baby sister more than anything. she thought about calling her right away... but she was probably busy. that social butterfly of a girl always had places to be and people to see, not to mention she'd just started college. she was always on the run. groaning, venny laid in the bed and grudgingly pulled the comforter up over her head. she made a muffled sort of growl in frustration. luca was married. he lied.
it wasn't like it was solely the fact that he was married that hurt her. yeah, it did offend her in an emotional way. he could have saved her a lot of embarrassment by mentioning it. she would have never been interested in him if she'd known, she wasn't the "pine after a married guy" type. the thing that really bothered her though, it was the betrayal she felt. when she and luca had spent their days, every day, working together, she'd told him a lot. mostly because he was virtually silent and didn't really give her much of an option between talking herself or sitting in awkward silence. at first she'd resented his coming since her family was still healing over her brother's death, but she opened up to him, talking quite a bit, really. she was something of a rambler. she told him everything, and then told remy even more because she wasn't going to wear her whole heart on her sleeve for this strange giovanni from the west coast. he'd grown on her. when you spent every god damn day with the same person, you grew to care about them, whether romantically or not. maybe he was an emotionless bastard, maybe he didn't consider her a friend. no, no, no. he clearly had not considered her a friend. there was no longer any doubt in her mind. when luca had left boston without a word to her, not even so much as a goodbye, or at the very least a phone call from home to explain... that was already crossing the line. that was downright, just mean. there was no excuse for that. but then, spending four years with a person and never, not once, mentioning the fact that he "put a ring on it" as that famous woman with the big hair and a name venny couldn't pronounce had once put it, that was what bothered her. friends didn't keep that sort of huge information from each other. she'd told him so much about herself, and never asked questions about him, nothing deep anyway, to avoid making him uncomfortable. how much of an effort would it have been to tell her? to just casually mention it one day. or even when she put herself out there and tried to kiss him. friends didn't keep huge information like that from each other. friends didn't want to embarrass each other. there was no negative side to telling venny about his marriage. he would have avoided this problem entirely, a stalker girl and probably an angry wife.
she sat up and looked at the tv screen. breakfast at tiffany's. she loved this movie with the entirety of her heart. it was perfect, and she really could foil herself with audrey hepburn's holly. it was paused at the part where holly was teaching her newfound hunk of manfriend to shoplift. why were movies so perfect? better yet, why was audrey hepburn so perfect? if only she looked like that. venny looked to the nightstand and scowled at the chocolate fudge ice cream sitting there with a spoon lodged into it, "goodbye, body," she muttered to herself sadly before grabbing it and taking an unattractively large bite into her mouth. normally she would go running to clear her head and deal with her emotions, but right now she wasn't willing to risk running into luca again, or any other giovanni for that matter. she was mortified as it was, no reason to had more kerosene to the flame. that, and she didn't want to run into whoever mrs. luca giovanni was. for all venny knew, that woman had a sniper rifle with her name on it and put an expensive hit on her head. maybe she wasn't a crazy psycho bitch and was actually a sweetheart of a person who venny would get along with, but for some reason she seriously doubted that. suddenly, there was a knock on the door and the all to familiar voice rang through the dark room. "treadmill my ass!" she called back bitterly. she put the ice cream back on the night stand before taking her sweet time to stumble across the black room to the door. she opened it quickly, "hurry up!" she squealed as she turned and ran back to the bed and huddled a pillow over her head tightly, "the light burns!" she had just escalated to the true hermit level of her life. she'd been expecting remy. she had sent her the briefest details in a text early in the day to explain her run-in with luca. of course remy was going to show up. that's what bestfriends did for each other, wasn't it? venny's legs swung in the air as she suffocated herself with the pillow, unsure of remy's entrance. "what do you want?" she snapped moodily. she knew remy, remy wouldn't be offended by her hostility. venny could tell the tall, freckly blonde that she despised her and never wanted to see her again and remy would just laugh in her face. she didn't feel like talking about luca anymore though. she wanted to go get trashed, but the sun was still up, she knew it, though she could hardly tell because the curtains were shut so tightly. it was too early to get drunk. so she'd settle for her fat-friendly, frozen dairy goodness.
[/justify] - - - - - - - (STATUS) finished. (TAGGED) SNACKERS<3 (WORDS) 2,711 (OUTFIT) here. (COMMENTS) second go. hopefully it doesn't blow. -is a poet- btw, sorry its long o-o no really, haha. this is like a thousand words longer than the response i wrote last night. wtf? (CREDITS) me, yo.
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Post by remy on Dec 9, 2011 13:54:10 GMT -6
,FROM WHAT REMY had seen, valkyrie, california, was home to a series of fucked-up human beings. it seemed every citizen here had some sort of issue. and not the ones she had. like what hockey jersey to wear on game day or whether she could wrestle venecia away from the gym. y'know…normal shit. here? she had no fucking clue. someone was a drug addict or an orphan or about to kill someone. often all three. this place was a perfect little hideout for criminals, okay. she got that, could accept that. but she had grown up around criminals. they had all seemed perfectly healthy. except for the drug trafficking and killing people stuff, but that was none of her business. every second person in her little corner of boston wasn't on the verge of insanity. venny's family didn't take sick satisfaction in pulling teeth out or gouging eyeballs. there was no way that was normal. jamie said it made his own issues disappear for awhile. well, okay, she'd take his word for it. jamie collins was one of those incredibly fucked-up human beings she was talking about. most everyone in valkyrie knew that. so take people like that, multiply it by ninety-five of this town's population and you have valkyrie, california. uh…why the fuck?
so this place was some sort of hotspot for the illegal, the attractive, and the fucked-up. probably had been for a long time. the brochure should say that. if remy tremblay did not despise california and everything it stood for so much, by looking at the valkyrie website, she would deem the coastal town a lovely place. live, vacation, retire, whatever - that stupid, lying information booth online lady said this place had something to offer for everyone. so far, she could see that; if you were an individual who did nothing but rot in your own filth. remy was personally surprised her mental state hadn't been infected with the poison that seemed to intertwine with the water. it was toxic here. look at what this place had done to venny, her best friend like, ever. she ran into the one person who…okay, well, part of running into that person was the point in being here, but that's against the point. it upset her and made her some sort of crazy person. and venecia moretti was one of the most balanced people alive, save her weird obsession with health foods. remy was sure to keep an eye on that, however. so it worked. it only made her abhor valkyrie more. if it continued to make venny an emo child, she was going to have serious words with this place. still, one question…why the fuck? i thought we'd asked that already.
she simply did not understand. and remy tremblay tended to understand a lot of things. except for two things: why people could ever cheer for the boston bruins and why valkyrie was a magnet for the troubled. she assumed the former because a lot of people in america had no taste; people cheer for the vancouver canucks, too. as for the latter…she was still searching for that answer. enough tragedy had tarnished this place. i thought people wanted to get away from that. everytime there was some sort of disruption in her otherwise illustrious life, remy ditched. why stay around and absorb all of the ugliness? no one benefits from that. but, then again, the minds of these people seemed to be in some sort of panic. they couldn't be thinking clearly, definitely not logically. she still didn't understand. why wasn't anyone making the effort to fix themselves? unless they liked living in filth. i guess everyone is different. didn't stop her finding it pathetic. and kind of hilarious. perhaps they were just insane. a mental hospital saw valkyrie was a "hidden gem" and set all of their inmates out. at least they would have common ground. yes. that would make sense, she decided. it put that issue to rest. because, really, remy had more important matters to attend to.
like how luca giovanni is a waste. granted, she still considered him to be her friend. he was a good time, smoking hot, and easy enough to get along with. that stupid italian had been a good part of why the last several years had been so positive. the four of them - remy, jamie, venny and luca. there were definitely more good times than bad. she had just never imagined he would pick up and leave, no word. not even a note. classless jerk. it was all his fault. no one cared about jamie and his craziness. well, not really. remy hoped he didn't die. but it was luca and his moronicness which brought remy to valkyrie. she was here because venny was. and venny was here because luca was a waste of something really nasty. a germ of sorts, maybe. sewer water. yeah, because he was a waste of good sewer water. she, herself, was a little offended they had woken up to find him gone. what the hell, right? luca giovanni was not the type of person to randomly disappear. remy had floated the idea of posting his face on the back of milk jugs until venny discovered he had run off to valkyrie. i think he'd mentioned living there for awhile before coming to boston. regardless, that was a stupid move. it would have been nice if he had simply come back because his fucked up brain craved more poison. she could have accepted that. sent him a postcard calling him sewer water, and that she'd see him one day. but uh yeah, no. he was here because of some chick. and that, my friend, is why he was a waste.
when venny had texted her earlier that afternoon, remy had been excited. she'd run into him at starbucks or somewhere. good to know he was still alive. but then she'd explained, well, confirmed really, the reason why he was here. some chick. marge? maggie? something like that. he was, ding ding ding! married. married. first of all, only idiots signing deals with the devil even consider marriage. but he had been tied to this chick for five years. thanks for telling us all that, friend. she rolled her eyes at the entire situation. stupid boy. she would have been having fun mocking luca had venny not been so upset. they had been close in boston. remy privately thought they were a good match. that would have been one relationship she would approve of. but no. he was married instead! yeah. right. fucking stupid. and here we are, remy tremblay pounding on her best friend's hotel room door because she was, duh, the best friend. it was her job to make sure venny wasn't dead.
she blinked as the door opened. remy saw a quick flash of venny before she disappeared back on the bed, hiding under a pillow. who the hell was this? "you cranky slut, it's my job to act like this. you're supposed to be doing yoga or something." amusement lacing her accented words, remy felt her way into the room. it was fucking dark in here. the tv provided a pathetic source of light. the curtains were drawn. and it was musty. who's room was this? because it seemed more like her's, not clean-freak, health nut venecia's. sitting down on the edge of the bed, remy dropped the bag to the floor and looked at the darkened silhouette of venny. "i want tickets to the kings game tonight. duh. i thought you knew me better than that." reaching up the bed, she felt around for the nightstand. locating it, she flicked the lamp on. ice cream. a quick glance told her 'breakfast at tiffany's' was playing. who was this person? "who is this person in front of me?" echoing her confused thoughts, remy turned to face venny, crossing her legs and staring at her best friend with bored disapproval. the entire situation was a mixture of hilarity, patheticness, and a little bit of concern. that stupid italian boy was seriously messing with her best friend. not cool, giovanni, not cool at all. she felt down to the floor, picked up the ripping plastic bag and set it down in front of her. she was the greatest friend in existence.
"i'm going to assume you've pvr'd this movie, so you can watch a million times later when i'm not around to gag. i'm not that good a friend. sorry." raising her eyebrows, remy pulled her own container of ice cream - the much superior strawberry - and the cosmo magazine. "didn't buy nail polish. but i have an unlimited amount of chocolate and i watched clueless or whatever that movie is. so i'm the expert on these things. so shut up, we're doing this my way." she smiled at venny, leaving no room for negative disruptions. flipping open to a random page of the glossy magazine, something about hair products and sex, remy began to read silently. there had to be something useful in here. "okay. so i can tell you how to do some hairstyle and the best sex positions. but pass me a spoon first." she loved venny. she'd do anything for her. even if it meant this poor excuse for girl time.
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- TAGGED, THE SNACKERS.<3
DATE, april, 2012. the inferno.
LENGTH, 1563 words.
ATTIRE, hurr.
NOTES, woo. o-o they're so us.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to silversun pickups - "catch and release"
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Post by venecia on Dec 24, 2011 12:16:04 GMT -6
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---THEY HAD BEEN BEST FRIENDS SINCE THEY WERE KIDS. ever since remy moved to boston and joined into venny's pack of dirty street boys, they clicked. they had know each other for years, and in all reality, they'd probably end up dying together. there probably wasn't a pair of more genuine friends in the world, really. they were like family; their families were even close with each other. it was a tight knit group, and venny had always adored it. the dynamic duo was never good at being your typical teenage girls. they were down to hang with the boys and watch some sports, and have that be that. call it a good day. they didn't like shopping, or running around with glitter and ribbons. the most feminine thing about the two was probably their boobs, and their sexuality. otherwise they were about as tomb-boy as a gal could get. all the bickering and backstabbing that went on with girls, it was foreign territory to venny and remy. they'd never even toed that line, never been curious about it. come to think of it, the two had never even been in a fight. legitimately. if one annoyed the other, it was something like "hey remy, you're annoying the living daylight out of me, let's go drop water balloons on rich people off a building." or when one pissed the other off, they'd call them out, "dearest remy, you are acting like a selfish whore." and neither of them ever took the honesty offensively. they accepted that they were so open with each other, and they were the type of people who could admit their flaws. venny had no problem acknowledging that she was a controlling, cocky, headstrong bitch at times. but the best friends were also good at knowing what was good about themselves. venny knew they were pretty, maybe not girl-next-door, but they certainly were attractive. they had traits they liked about each other, and they accepted the other's vices. venny was probably more open with remy than she was with her own family, considering remy was like her sister. they were probably sisters in another life, but god figured they would kill their mothers had they been related. they were attached at the hip anyway. when one wasn't with the other, there was always a confused look upon the faces of observers, one that seemed to say "where is your soul mate?" they were perfect for each other, in a nonromantic way. whatever one lacked, the other made up for. smash them together in some freaky friday sort of thing, and they'd be the most bad ass person you could ever come across. remy said all the thing venny thought but was too polite to say, venny apologized on remy's behalf when she got out of hand. things like that. they foiled each other in utter perfection. you couldn't get much closer than remy tremblay and venecia moretti. if they were any closer, they would be conjoined.
the italian bombshell groaned as she listened to remy's words, "you're stupid," she stated plainly. these were the few things venny didn't do with remy very often, which was why she had a sister who thought she was a princess, because people like mona appreciated the classics. "you know i like old movies, don't be melodramatic," it wasn't like this whole luca thing had altered who she was as a person. she wasn't going to fall into a fit of darkness and despair because he was married. she deserved an afternoon of ice cream and audrey hepburn, though thinking about all those extra calories she was going to have to burn off was making her sick to her stomach. maybe she should quit on the ice cream before she put a real dent into tomorrow's workout. she was glad remy showed up though, because the only person she really knew in valkyrie, california was jamie collins, and at the moment he was rather messed up over his mother's death, which was caused by italians, a.k.a. venny's people. maybe not her family, but her people. so for starters, he was probably unhappy with her, though he'd get over it. she'd known him since she was a kid too. and two, even if jamie was as sane as he every really got, he wasn't exactly the type of person she wasn't to talk about her problems with. he'd probably tell her she was stupid, make fun of luca's wife, then trash luca, and finally pull out a bottle of vodka or maybe a gun and want to shoot a sewer rat. she didn't know, jamie was a unique character, for lack of a better word. she wouldn't choose mona over remy either. she adored her baby sister, but she was so interested in details and happy endings. remy was willing to do the stupid stuff that would make venny laugh, and feel semi-better, and then they'd go get drunk or something. yay for friendship. "venecia moretti, at your service. and who are you calling a slut miss i can't keep my hands off of anything with a penis?" venny couldn't keep up the angry charade though and she started laughing. life was too short to be a grump about everything, right? she could be negative, but what was the point of being sincerely upset. she sat up straight, her eyes widening and a smile on her face. her hair was a mess, she looked like she just rolled out of bed after a hangover. "did you really get tickets to a kings game? who are they playing?" venny liked hockey. not as much as football. she was in love with the new orleans saints, and their quarterback was to die for, but when your second family was canadian, hockey practically grew on her from a young age, since she'd known remy. remy was definitely the bigger fan, but venny was always following in the background.
going to a game would make her feel better though. venny loved sports with her whole heart. she hated her home town teams though. the bruins? the red sox? the patriots? and that other sport, the stupid repetitive one with large black men and a bouncy orange ball? what was boston's team for that, the celtics? she didn't know, but whoever they were, she didn't like them either. they were all so overrated. that was probably the one thing she hated about boston. she was a dodgers fan, baseball wise. they never owned up really, but at least they didn't suck completely. and then there was the yankees, whom she liked solely for being the red sox number one rival. the patriots were just on her little black list because she hated them, there wasn't much of a valid reason. she loved the saints though, god did she love them. their quarterback was to die for, and they were a pretty damn good team too. in hockey she didn't really have a favorite team. she liked the penguins and the sharks more than most other teams. as much as she hated california, maybe she should just stick around. sharks and dodgers? it was good enough for her. though if she was moving anywhere it may as well be new orleans since football was her first true love. venny loved sports. they were the greatest pastime, and unlike most women, she really understood all the rules, and she was very objective about it. while most people freaked out when the ref. penalized their favorite player, she would analyze what they did wrong. unless it was total bull, then she would go batshit crazy. she herself had played a lot of sports as a kid. softball had been her thing, she'd played it all through high school, and college. she did well, too, probably could have gone into it professionally had she had the desire to do so. that was where her love for baseball stemmed from. had she been a man, she would have dreamed about making it to the nfl, but considering she was very, very female, she was going to have to settle with seducing some attractive, single quarterback to marry her. she'd let remy live with them. when she got mad at the said husband, she'd go sleep in remy's room with her. now that'd be the life. and luca giovanni could kiss her ass, because she would be married to one of the most desired pieces of man meat in the sports world. it sounded good to her. she could settle for a hockey or baseball player, but a football pro would be ideal. she should get a job as an nfl p.r. or something.
venny glared at the tall blonde, "i didn't want to watch it with you anyway, you whorebucket," she challenged, turning off the television with a rather dejected look. remy secretly loved breakfast at tiffany's, she bet, but because of that reputation she had to uphold, she was willing to deny it for the rest of all time and eternity. pity. she watched as remy pulled out more ice cream and a cosmo magazine. oh dear lord, were they really about to do this? a girlfriend intervention? venny couldn't help but suppress laughter. "please don't make me eat that, i already feel fat," she pulled up the shirt to her thermal pajamas, looking at her toned stomach and taking her fingers to pull up the skin around her belly button, "say hello to mr. flab," her eyebrows knit together with a forlorn look on her face. she sighed and pulled her shirt down, sitting back up with her shoulders against the bed board. venny admired her nail beds then, "meh, that's okay. i bite my nails too much to paint them," she shrugged, taking this so casually, though she wanted to laugh and jump on the bed and through the ice cream out the window and hope it hit some poor soul on the bottom. ding, ding, ding! what an idea! a mischievous smile formed on her lips as she stared at remy with an expression they often shared. she listened to the rest of remy's plans before pulling her used spoon out of the chocolate ice cream. it was the closest one to where she was sitting, maybe the only one in the room. she licked off the chocolate before handing it to remy. like she would care. there was no germaphobia in these walls. "i wanna know a kinky one people don't normally think of," venny chuckled. she then swung her long legs over the bed lazily, and grabbed her half-eaten tub of fudgey fatness. "but while you read, can we fling ice cream at poor unfortunate souls? i hope they think its poop." oh immaturity, it was what made life so grand, wasn't it?
[/justify] - - - - - - - (STATUS) finished. (TAGGED) SNACKERS<3 (WORDS) 1,806 (OUTFIT) here. (COMMENTS) went out of order on the dialogue. oops? (CREDITS) me, yo.
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Post by remy on Jan 16, 2012 0:39:12 GMT -6
,SHE WAS PERFECTLY content with her life, thank you very much. remy tremblay didn't understand people. the phrase "if it isn't broken, break it" seemed to define a good portion of the population. about a hundred percent of the females, at least. the one thing remy understood less than "normal" human nature was that of the average female living in the united states. so many of them had perfectly lovely lives, and they had the unhealthy, incessant requirement to disfigure it. she honestly didn't think it even mattered how. as long as one factor of their lives were flirting with absolute disaster, all was good. a perfect balance that made them seem like tragic little figures, strong enough to deal with the hand they'd been dealt in the poker game of life. yeah. these were some of the most entertaining people. because, apparently, everyone else goes around looking for some pretty face, forced into a permanent expression of a faked orgasm, to fawn over and call beautiful and strong and whatever. fuck. how irritating was that? apparently you cannot be alive and happy with your own existence. something has to be wrong. something has to ruin everything that ever had the potential to be good. and if that something isn't around, go out and find it. you cannot be content in north america. you have to be broken and crying and tragic and too fucking useless to do anything about it. it sickened her, really.
remy tremblay could not bring herself to respect the helpless types. that was all she had listened to growing up. both in montreal and boston, all the girls in her life had been whining and crying and making a foolish mess of themselves. they would act upset and clueless, then all of the boys would lust after them. they would toy with affections, pretend like they didn't care, get mad when they got ignored, and, most of all, maintained the image of the most impossible human being. was she getting close? they were all the same. if you could not go a week without highlights, you were helpless. you were weak and pathetic and just really, really sad. it had long passed the line of annoyance. these girls…if remy could kill herself and they would all disappear, she would happily do it. the world doesn't need to be brainwashed by this image of what the perfect, typical girl should be. and it was the meaningless clones who salivated after this that sickened her. you have to be weak and helpless, high-maintenance and demanding. it was infuriating, actually. it offered her migraines, deep sighs and the wish to be an anteater.
what she wanted to know most of all, where in the genetic lottery had her and venny been missed? maybe they weren't in line or something. because, most certainly, neither of these two girls would get mad at a boy for being late, when he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. or something. i think she heard a girl bitching about that one day. she, personally, held her and her best friend on the highest plain available. one would assume they would be set for life. never before had remy met two individuals with boobs who were…relaxed. they both avoided drama and all the shit that girls seemed to lust after. but hey, what did they know? boys lusted after girls who lusted after all that trivial shit that brings up issues and crying and pimples. neither remy nor venny had ever had a serious relationship. who was interested? not anyone, really. they had been a part of the gang for their entire lives, just as important in a rowdy bunch of rough and tumble boys as the rest. no one offered to take them on dates or buy them flowers. and while it was privately a relief, remy was careful to observe the girls they all went out of their way to make themselves miserable for. they all had long hair, popping boobs, duck lips, tight dresses, high heels, and an agenda only for themselves. demanding, whining, irrational…ugh. she didn't understand. she didn't really want to. all it was was infuriating and frustrating and really fucking sickening. the best part? all these girls seemed to think it was venny and remy who needed the lives.
who is perfectly content here?
she closed her eyes, the familiar headache beginning to creep in. had she not known venecia moretti better than she, herself, did, remy would want to throw up. this was more comical than anything. and normal girls did this all the time, right? their lives were absolutely shattered because something stupid happened with a boy. understandable, i guess. when the boy in question happened to be one of your closest friends for five years and leaves out a little detail like uh, you know, a wife. of course she wanted to ask venny. and of course she wasn't going to. the simple fact this happened like, five times a day to some people was disturbing. this was as feminine as they got. just watch.
"venecia moretti, at your service…" see what i mean? turning toward her best friend, remy crossed her legs and failed at a dark attempt to glare at her. "i'm calling you one. because, quite frankly, my name is much too long. your's sounds better." the same wicked grin crossing her freckled face, the montreal native kneed venny playfully. watching her best friend's face light up at the mention of tickets was always entertaining. the fact that she believed her was even moreso. "okay, miss venecia, let us take a hypothetical situation," speaking wildly with her hands, remy raised her voice to mock some sort of store announcers. "i, figure one, have discovered some want to buy tickets to a sporting event of our choice. plenty of time to drive to los angeles, with fantastic seats and a good chance to seduce the athletes after the game. and you, figure two, have just been informed of this fact. do you honestly believe figure one would be acting as sombrely as i am now if this was, indeed, a reality?" breaking into a giggle, remy pushed at venny again, fingers gripping at her pyjamas. "no i didn't get tickets! i want them! i want to see them lose to my habs!" her life was slowly ending everytime her favourite hockey team played in california and she didn't get to attend. she was a damn good friend because she was chancing missing the game in order to spend time with venny. although, she could easily check for the san jose-montreal game…those tickets were always available. hm. roadtrip? she made a note to remember that plan.
choosing to merely roll her eyes as venny turned off the tv, her sight now directed down at the her phone, she quietly checked the scores for the chicago-vancouver game. god the blackhawks were stupid now. that stupid goalie walks out (whose jersey she owned, by the way), and they have to continue to pay the contract, so they can't afford anyone half-decent. lame. "that's good, because i didn't want to watch it at all." grinning cheekily at her best friend, remy pushed her phone into her pocket and reached for the ice cream once more. digging the plastic fork she'd found on the table into the softened cream, she was busy half-chewing on her spoon when venny was busy reminding her of how fat she was getting. "yes, you are a wide, useless load. you have an unredeeming waistline and you can longer seduce that football player you're in love with. so have more." she pushed venny's own ice cream bucket toward her with her toe. keeping the cold fork in her mouth, remy was preoccupied examining her own messy nail beds when she could feel that familiar smile, laced with mischief, flash in her direction. greatfully taking the spoon from venny, remy threw the fork behind her onto the floor, forgotten, and lay it atop her own ice cream, leafing through the glossy magazine. "i've actually done this one here. right up against a window, positioning on the sill so you don't fall. this minor leaguer and i, man…" she trailed off with a cheesy grin, eating another spoonful of ice cream. chewing on the spoon again, remy watched as venny straightened herself up, clutching her ice cream. "no old ladies or hot boys. where we going?" standing up as well, she threw the spoon back at her best friend. who else could you do this with, really? it's not like those broken, crying girls could have allow themselves fun.
[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- TAGGED, THE SNACKERS.<3
DATE, april, 2012. the inferno.
LENGTH, 1505 words.
ATTIRE, hurr.
NOTES, this is really rushed. o-o
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to silversun pickups - "catch and release"
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Post by venecia on Jan 21, 2012 12:36:35 GMT -6
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---VENECIA MORETTI WASN'T THE GIRL ANYBODY COULD BE FRIENDS WITH. it wasn't like she was the one picking and choosing who she wanted to befriend and who not to... those sorts of things just happened. she wasn't trying to have a type she could get along with, and she really didn't. she wasn't a snob about who she hung around, not really. as long as their personalities mashed well enough, she was okay. but that was where things took a turn for the worst, because not a lot of people meshed well with venny. shallow surface relationships worked best, because by nature venny was quite friendly, and quite talkative. she wasn't exceedingly judgmental, and was willing to get to know almost anybody. and while she wasn't one of those girls who everything that came out of their mouth was some sort of dramatic monologue revealing a soul in action, she was fairly talkative when she met people. sure, she had some trust issues and damage, but who didn't these days? the real problem was all of venny's perks and quirks. she had a minor case of obsessive compulsive disorder. the girl was an extreme perfectionist, the type that would color code their closet or organize their entire dvd's in alphabetical order. and she was extremely concerned with her physical fitness. she worked out a lot, and only ate healthy foods. she would be a horrible italian wife with her resentment to make pasta for fear it'd add some flab to her perfectly toned core. but it also relieved stress, the working out factor. she wasn't the type to eat away her problems, she was the type to blare music into her ears and take a jog to clear her head, and it worked too. and then there was always the case of venny's over competitive drive. she had this need to be the winner, to be the first one in and first one out. everything was a race to the finish for her, and she had an overpowering determinism that pushed her to want the blue ribbon or the gold medal. she liked being the winner, she loved the feeling of getting a payoff to realize that she'd put herself through hell for some reward, and that people recognized that. it had always been this way for her too, she needed to be the best in everything since she was a kid. and it wasn't like she didn't work hard for her victories, because she did. when venecia put her whole heart and soul into something she cared about, she exerted all the effort in her being to win and do it right.
some people couldn't really handle her personality though. it was too strong, and too overwhelming. she was a little abrasive, even if she did have a hard time admitting it, and she tended to scare off most of the prospective friends she could have had over the years. this had never really bothered venecia though because she wasn't looking to win the miss america contest. the fewer friends meant fewer explanations. as far as she was concerned, having a sister and remy were enough lady friends she needed in her life, because between the two of them, all of her friendly feminine needs were covered. some people couldn't really see how venny and remy could be friends though, because they really were so different. and it wasn't like remy was somebody who let people walk all over her either, because she definitely had a strong personality. but somehow they balanced each other. they never fought like other friends, and maybe that was because of their open honesty policy they had established from the day they met. there were no secrets between them, or nothing serious. maybe some unspoken mysteries, but the other always seemed to understand without requiring an explanation. and while venny was a handful, she was one of the most laid back, forgiving people in the world. it took a lot to get under her skin. people didn't bother her, really. she bothered herself, and that was normally the stemming of her human hatred. but otherwise she was fairly casual, and nothing really phased her. and then there was remy, who was probably one of the most laid back people on the planet if you didn't get under the brash blonde's skin. they were the type of friends who could sit in a car for five hours and say absolutely nothing, and that would mean nothing more than they were feeling relaxed or tired or simply didn't want to talk, whereas any other pair of fem friends would freak out that the other was mad at them but they were too proud or stubborn to break the silence with their own words. their friendship was very healthy, because it wasn't twisted or enforced in any way. they got along, and they liked each other a lot. it was as simple as that. venny embraced remy's flaws, in fact, she could hardly tell remy's virtues from her vices anymore because she'd learned to love the entire package. they were close, but some people just had a hard time seeing that.
venny looked at remy with a smile, but then frowned, her brow furrowing, "i don't think your name is longer. mine just rolls off the tongue. yay for being italian?" she shrugged as she looked around the room. this was pathetic, even for her. the ice scream was just the cherry on top of the big ice cream of pathetic. this wasn't venny... sitting in a dark room, gorging herself, watching chick flicks. while she had always liked old movies, she never watched them when she was moping, not unless she was in her bedroom and her baby sister and taken over the situation. but this was plain sad, and she was a little annoyed at herself for all the moping and self-loathing. nobody should be able to have this sort of a hold over her, nobody. this was exactly why she avoided relationships, because they never really made her better, only more shriveled up and laughable. remy started talking and venny looked at her flatly, "i don't know why we're friends. that was mean. i was excited for a second," she folded both her arms across her chest and her bottom lip protruded so she could pout momentarily before breaking into a grin and kicking remy's knee with her foot, "jerk, let's get some then." it was a promising idea, and it wasn't like they'd be short on money. venny's family had plenty, and her dad would probably reward her just for going to california balls in, since she was always the girl with the plan. they should probably join the work force soon though, she and remy. venny had a degree in criminology, but she didn't want to go into that here in valkyrie, she wanted to do something fun, and she knew her and remy weren't going to up and leave right away when jamie was being a useless fuck. they had to at last be sure he didn't plan on putting a gun to his head when they left. plus, she still kind of wanted to learn how to surf and enjoy her stay in california while it lasted. sure, the primary reason for coming had been shot in the face, but that just gave her more time to run around with her best friend and participate in some nonsense that she couldn't really do with anybody else. not to mention they still had yet to hit up los angeles, and there had to be some good parties being thrown on that side of the train tracks. she wasn't going to waste that plane ticket by going straight home just because luca turned out to be a married baby daddy, no big deal. there was a whole summer of california sunshine to enjoy. maybe she should go tanning and bleach her hair. hah, right.
venny shrugged, "that's good, 'cause you're a bitch," she smiled curtly, batting her eyelashes a few times. remy was the only person she could talk to so openly, and for somebody with an honesty problem, it worked for her. she patted her stomach lightly, frowning at it, "oh remy, please don't remind me," she whined playfully, rolling over on the bed and digging her head into remy's lap with her arm's wrapped around her thin waist, "i know he'll never love me!" she faux sobbed in mock horror, "it's because i'm a minority, i know it! a dark skinned, pasta eating minority!" she rolled back over onto her back so she was looking up at remy, "my life is over. it's that simple. just shoot me, or push me out the window. i have nothing to live for," she closed her eyes, draping her hand over her forehead. she loved football, and she loved quarterbacks, and if she could marry an nfl quarterback, she would pray thanks to god every day of her life. she listened somberly as remy proceeded to talk about the sex positions, and commenting on the one she had done. now this was friendship, discussing intercourse, "god, just don't tell me there were more than two men in the room with you. i think i'll have to call an intervention," venny sat up, popping her back as she did so before moving over to the window sill, "hot guys, definitely. i like them covered in ice cream," she have remy a toothy grin before roaming into the bathroom and taking her hair down. that already made it look normal, "i don't know," she pondered briefly, making faces at herself in the bathroom mirror before wandering back to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it, "is there anything in there about how to make your boobs look good? i wanna go out tonight."
[/justify] - - - - - - - (STATUS) finished. (TAGGED) SNACKERS<3 (WORDS) 1,651 (OUTFIT) here. (COMMENTS)sorry it sucks o-o (CREDITS) me, yo.
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