of monsters and men .

[juliette sinead webber]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 20px solid #7D463F; border-bottom:20px solid #7D463F; border-top:20px solid #7D463F; border-right: 20px solid #7D463F;] "dah! get yer arse out 'ere and take the damn drink orders." jules called up the stairs to the back room where her father was busy doing, well something. tierney had left for the day during the nooner lull. that left about five people in the bar to be heard over the din of the surrounding televisions which jules had yet to mute. there was no one around but her father was beginning to slack on his owner duties and she wasn't about to let him. this was a business damn it. if he wanted to run the thing without help then he was going to have to get down here and do it himself. "aye but ye know the order so much bet'r than i." she heard him call. jules smacked a vodka bottle down on the counter with a loud thunk and glared up the stairs. "fine. ye big arse." she grumbled loud enough for him to hear and loud enough for those in the immediate vicinity to hear and get a good chuckle. "what's the matter little girl. too afraid to make the orders by yourself?" one of the men teased causing jules to slide her her at him so quick his smile retreated from his face. "no. not necessarily. ye see i'm already a'runnin' this ship. be nice if my fat'er, the owner, made an attempt to run the joint s'all." she said as she grabbed the patron's bottle of choice and tipped him another. "how's about you shut up and keep givin' my family yer money." she said with a smirk as she pushed his glass closer and walked away, leaving him to grumble. there were a lot of people who took to bartending as an opportunity to play shrink and be the one to give out cheap advice to people who weren't likely to remember it the next day after their stupor had worn off. jules? she was more of a bad influence. she was cocky and usually a lot more carelessly witty but she was the type to see someone in need of a good talk and ship off in the other direction. she was the type to see a chance for a good laugh and talk the person into doing something in their stupor that they wouldn't usually do like, say, drunk dialing a crush or telling their boss to fuck off or helping a hopeless father of three that his life really would have been better had he just gone to vegas instead. something along those lines. jules got a kick out of it because in a sick way she knew that people shouldn't be wasting away in bars all the time, that though it was good for business it wasn't good for society in general. pushing someone to fuck up like that might just make them realize what they had to lose and what needed to be changed. then again she was probably responsible for more than one spiraling depression that ended more than badly. who knew really. who cared. jules made quick work of the week's alcohol with a grumble. her father probably had bigger fish to fry but she didn't care. this wasn't part of her job. she didn't order it, she dished it out at the expense of other people's wallets. hell the bar wasn't even what jules considered her real job. jules' "real" job consisted of a few pieces of fine weaponry wrapped in an old, dusty blanket and strapped to the back of her triumph 675R sparkling white baby. god she loved that bike. she had been a harley girl for the longest time growing up but just in the same way that people's tastes for certain food changed, her taste for bikes changed. jules could always appreciate the classic craftsmanship and style of a harley but she loved the get up and go and the dangerous feel of her baby which she had so dubbed leviathan back in the day. she could get just about anywhere on that bike and it was great in just about any terrain. she could cross mountains on that damn bike one minute and out-maneuver police in city alleyways the next minute. leviathan was her baby and she could swear she would never do anything to that bike other than putting it up on a pedestal the day it's thrumming little heart gave out. she kept good care of him too, always giving him a wash and making sure all the pieces fit in the right places. she was no mechanical whiz but she knew how to keep her car intact. that was what she preferred to do to say the least. there was something about the wind brushing through her red hair and turning it into a tangly mess while she scoured the pacific coastline with her fare that just got her blood pumping. if driving around on her little crotch rocket couldn't give her the thrill she needed, toting around guns only seen in sci fi flicks or war movies was bound to do the trick and it usually did. though carting her cargo was a routine thing at this point and though she'd never had a run in with coppers before, the simple act of hauling things that she could be thrown in jail just for possessing was enough for her. it gave her the thrill she needed to not be doing actual dangerous shit like base jumping, sky diving, or other thriller sports where one could actually die. not to mention the fact that jules never went anywhere without her own piece, one she was very familiar with. and expert shot so the only one who could ever put her in real danger was herself being stupid. she was an everyday gun runner. there was no sense in offing her no matter how mouthy she could get and people around her tended to realize that. but in the off times jules stayed at her bar, guarding it from idiots who had nothing better to do than to waste away their life in her vicinity. it was fine, but jules preferred a whole hell of a lot more. she was looking for something to do, someone interesting to come in, and she wasn't being graced with that gift. so after making some busy work of washing down the bar top, tables, and chairs, jules slipped back behind the bar, poured a few more drinks for the regulars, and sighed, flipping the television to a better sports channel and taking a seat behind the bar, kicking her heels up on the counter and making herself comfortable. she grabbed a spare bowl of fresh, definitely fresh, bar nuts and went to town. there was nothing else to do during the nooner lull then to just get through it and with no one around to really strike up a conversation with this was about as good as it was going to get. notes, first jules thread. bored. it's open. word count, 1,163 thanks brooklyn from caution

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[cedric]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #080808 solid 30px; ] it's so easy to fly through a window OUTFIT: Here, but with shoes TAGGED: JULES<3 --- CALIFORNIA, BEAUTIFUL SUNNY BEACHES, BEAUTIFUL GIRLS it really should be a place that most of Cedric's associates would associate with him, but alas, US soil was rare to be featured underneath the Scotsman's feet. Cedric enjoyed America, land of the free, home of the brave, all that shit, but honestly? He enjoyed most of the planet, as long as there were women and business. There was only one place in the world where he really considered home though and California was a LONG ways away. It was where his family lived. Believe it or not, Cedric Adair, the man known for a mouthy personality, the man who could find anyone, and seemed to know everything that was going on the wonderful world of crime, the play boy was actually quite the family man. His family meant the world to him. His mother, his adoptive aunts and uncles, his one alive blood uncle, Tavin. It was funny though. They all came from this small village in the Scottish Highlands, and yes, I mean small. It was called Glenfinnan and it was just about the most beautiful place in the world and only about 150 people live there. Very small place. So basically the whole village knows each other, the village was his family. And they all had really Scottish names. His mother, Kenzie. His uncle Tavin and more along those lines. Cedric was good at his job. He loved it, but he left it behind him when he went to see his family. Ironic though seeing as it was his family that got him into the business. Well, sort of, his Uncle mostly. You see, Ced's grandparents, on his mother's side, were killed when his mother was a child. Murdered because they witnessed a killing. His mom was raised by her older bothers. She had two. They didn't take the death of their parents, well. Who would? So Ced's two uncles did their best to take care of his mother, Kenzie, mostly by getting into crime. They became a team. Two brothers who were known for robbin' banks. They were good too. Until one job, the younger brother, Ced's uncle Tavin, got stuck. Sent to prison. The older brother, Uncle Hunter, was furious. Hunter had always been the brains. He was good at his job, intelligent, persuasive. He wanted to bust him out but knew he would risk leaving Kenzie alone, didn't want that. He tried his best to move on, couldn't do it. They were brothers. So he approached the Italian mafia. They accepted to get Tavin out, if Hunter and Tavin helped em' out from time to time. Tavin did some grunt work but it was Hunter that took to it like a flame. Ced's uncle quickly became friends with Fausto Giovanni and his brother Vito. After a good ten or so years, Fausto became the Don, and Ced's uncle became the consigliere - or advisor. Cedric grew up around his uncles, both of them. Tavin retired, Hunter worked for the Giovanni's until he died a couple years ago, shot by a cop. Cedric might have information on a lot of people but he would never, ever, sell someone out to the cops. Cedric rarely hated people but if he did, honestly, he probably wouldn't go out of his way to get revenge or piss ya off. The only way he could see that happening is if someone attacked his family. So, Cedric would never just sell people out to the cops. Sell them out to other criminals who pay? Yeah sure why not? And yes, he makes sure people aren't name dropping him. It is an unspoken law that when someone gives you information and you're caught with it, you don't give the name of the person who told you. Say a little birdie told you, or something. Cedric never sold out his sources, even though many people don't realize they told him anything. Procuring the information was the part of his job he enjoyed the most because it involved befriending, getting to know and hanging out or partying with people of all sorts. Once a little alcohol's in them, people are very willing to talk, add a few girls into the mix, or if he was getting info from a girl, add a bit of flattery and his abs into the mix and va va voom! Information just flying through the air, waiting for Cedric to catch it and sell it. Speaking of his job, he was on his way right then to drop off some information. Cedric had been approached by the Irish. Some shipment had been taken from them, intercepted and the culprits disappeared, they wanted to know who did it and where they could find him. Well, Cedric already knew who had done it and could make a general guess as to where the prick was but Cedric always liked to give more than a guess to a paying customer. He asked for 24hours and then he would give them both the name and address. You know what's even more sad? Cedric didn't charge much. Not at all. He got paid more doing some collecting jobs for the Italians, but it was enough. Cedric wasn't interesting in getting rich. He never had been. Cedric didn't grow up poor. Glenfinnan was not a poor village but it was not a wealthy one either. It loved on it's tourism (The railroad station was famous and used in the Harry Potter movies). Cedric had his own room, but it was small. There was not a lot of electronics and the only tv they had was a small black and white one. No cable, no dvd player. They had a radio and a record player but no cd players or ipods. Most of their entertainment involved the outdoors, which was refreshing. It was not like this because they were poor, it was like this because that was the feeling of the whole town. Very little cell phone service, limited amounts of electricity because they needed their own small generators in each house. Cars were around but bikes that pulled carts were more common... It was a great place to be a kid actually. But nostalgia aside, the point being made was that money and power? Power and money? Honestly did not mean much to him. He earned enough to treat himself well, and send some back to Glenfinnan. Power was over rated as long as he controlled himself. He just didn't care much about the lives of other human beings, whether he was supposed to control them or whether he was supposed to help them. Charity? Dominance? Both extremes were strange things to take part in if you asked Cedric. He did his job because it allowed him to travel, have no real commitments, be as free as a man could be. Plus, he got a kick out of being well liked and generally trusted by some of the world's worst criminals. It was sort of funny. No one was stupid enough to ask him about the Italians, they knew he would die first than betray the friends he had in Fausto, Vito and Luca but if a even a Russian got info from him, it was known Ced's word was good. It was because of his job that he was walking into a bar that was within well known Irish territory. He walked past a few people who looked like they lived there almost and up to the bar where an incredibly attractive red head was kickin' back and relazin. He watched her for a moment just standing near the bar before setting an envelope down and hopping onto the stool in front of her, "Now now, Jules, don't look so bored, I'm here now, everythin'll be a'right" He said with a friendly smile. He was guessing her name from the names and things he had heard about the Irish members that doubled as bartenders and appearances. She fit the description he had heard of Jules Sinead. He reached out his hand, "Name's Cedric A'Dair." he introduced himself with a smirk "I 'ave somethin' for yor boss." He added, nodding at the envelope, his Scottish accent ringing out. it's so easy to fool with the sound

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY CARS

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[juliette sinead webber]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 20px solid #7D463F; border-bottom:20px solid #7D463F; border-top:20px solid #7D463F; border-right: 20px solid #7D463F;] power was never in the cards for jules and she was fine with that, because it was never the power that she wanted more than the thrill. when she wasn't carrying pieces of concealed weapons, because she was a daredevil but she wasn't stupid nor did she have a death wish or a desire to go to jail, jules would kick her little crotch rocket into high gear and she would book it down california's most deserted stretches of highway. she loved the rush and the feeling of air whooshing by her head so fast you could swear it might rip right off her shoulders. it was the thrill she longed for so much more than anything else. that was one of the reasons why she took to guns so easily. just handling one and feeling the sharp cold on the metal leeching into your skin was enough to give jules a case of excited shivers. and that was just handling one. it was even more of a thrill any time she shot one and five times as much when she had a reason to start aiming it at people. she was an adrenaline junkie for sure and she loved every minute of it. she didn't want to be bland. she didn't want to be boring. she didn't want to be like everyone else in the world who took a job simply because they had to because they rent had to get paid somehow and never got on their feet enough to take a chance to find something that really made them happy. jules never wanted to be that kind of person. she never wanted to be miserable in anything that she did and though sitting around her father's bar during the noontime lull was beyond boring and the silence was almost deafening, she wasn't miserable. boredom wasn't miserable unless boredom had become your life and this was just one hour to two hour's stretch of boredom. once the afternooners started walking through the door all would be right with the world and she would have some decent conversations. hell you might even catch her smiling. jules liked to be entertained in one way or another whether she was entertaining herself or someone else was taking over that particular job. she was always the first person to get up and do something. it wasn't because she was super antsy or because she was always bored but jules liked to be up and about. she liked to have something to do that passed away the time and put a smile on her face even if that meant tackling her sister and wrestling with her or heading out into the desert on her bike. jules would do anything to preoccupy herself. life wasn't boring to her simply because she took the initiative and made sure life was interesting and it had worked. jules had always stayed relatively happy because she was constantly doing things that she enjoyed and when she was happy she was pleasant to be around and when she was pleasant to be around everyone won because everyone was happy. no she wasn't so self-centered to think that her happiness was indicative of other people's happiness but jules was well aware that people tended to mimic the attitude of those who surrounded them. if you were around a miserable grump for long enough you would start looking on the darker side of things and you would start to feel grumpy whereas if you were around someone who enjoyed life and took a moment to share that with the people around them then you would start to feel just a little more chipper and at ease. it wasn't rocket science. hell it was mostly something she'd picked up in the bar. jules didn't like hanging around those who were drinking away their problems because it was a drag. she was the type of bartender you'd find associating with the big groups of college students who were celebrating getting through finals or a group celebrating an engagement or something else that was fun. needless to say the moment a new face came into the bar, one that jules not only hadn't seen around but hadn't ever graced her with his presence, she was moderately intrigued. not enough to perk up the moment he walked in, but enough so to give him her attention after he'd sat down. especially due to the fact that he'd dubbed her by the right name. seeing as how she'd never met this guy before in her life it was safe to say she was slightly weirded out, on top of the intrigue of course. she could tell by his accent that he wasn't from the area. welcome to the club. even though she was raised in the americas for most of her life, jules had a clear cut irish accent. she was raised around fully irish parents and it had just kind of rubbed off on her. it wasn't like in some cases with immigrants how the parents sounded super foreign and the kids sounded like they'd been raised there all their lives. jules, and even tierney in a sense, had really picked up the old native tongue. it was more fun to speak in that way anyways, part of the reason no one had ever corrected her and she'd never corrected herself. she could obviously fake the perfect american accent if she wanted to, but that obviously wasn't the case. "jus' what i always wanted. someone to take away all me boredom. ye be a saint fella." she mocked him with an equally friendly smile and obviously not put off by the fact that he knew her name. it wouldn't really surprise her. anyone who came in to the eighth, as she called it, knew who she was. she grabbed a shot glass and poured a smooth, amber liquid into it, passing it on to the newcomer. a scotch for the scot. yuck yuck, chuckle chuckle. she was here all week. jules eyed the envelope and nodded sliding her hand across the bar to rest on the envelope but not taking it from him, yet. "and what kind of payment are ye looking for lad? you lookin' for a handout or ye just being a good ol' boy?" she taunted him with a smirk. things certainly had just gotten a little more interesting with him in the bar. jules just hoped that the little hint of mystery and intrigue didn't die down the moment this little back and forth was over. notes, tag: cedric. word count, 1,097 thanks brooklyn from caution

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[cedric]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #080808 solid 30px; ] it's so easy to fly through a window OUTFIT: Here, but with shoes TAGGED: JULES<3 --- IT WAS A LIE TO SAY CEDRIC HAD ABSOLUTELY NO LOYALTIES. Because he did. He worked for himself. 100%. That was actually sort of a required thing in his mind going into the business. I mean, he got started tagging along with his uncle and the Italians but really, when he began to come into his own and all, he knew alone was the way to go. Cedric was too casual to have to worry about ancient traditions and lineages. He was too bored to want to worry about patriarchy and rivalries that back to medieval times. It all got too polluted for him when all he wanted to be able to do was get by comfortably, sending enough him to keep him mother safe, and have fun. Really? If you're primary goal was to live the easy life, then why bother in getting into lovers spats with opposing organizations hoping to compare and contrast penis sizes is some ridiculous "mine is bigger than yours" contest on the playground that was the planet? A juvenile display that killed more people than it made people rich. What did he care if the Italians hated the Russians, and the Sicilians hated the Italians and the Irish hated the Brits and everyone else. Everyone hated everyone. It was exhausting. Or at least Cedric imagined it would be. He, himself, just found it pointless but rather amusing. PLus it was easy to work against it. As long as he stayed primarily neutral. And I do say primarily. He was friends with too many of the Italians. Hell, the Don? Fausto? he was like another Uncle to Cedric. Fausto respected that Cedric would never join them, unlike his Uncle, but Fausto also knew that HIS secrets were safe with Ced, and only his secrets. It was this mutual understanding that made it possible for them to work together on occasion, but mostly it made it possible for them to be unconnected criminally, but close on a more personal level. It worked out. But I digress, the point is that all the angst and hate and unfounded bias, it was like gossip for him. And he was TOTALLY one of those types of girls and the mall that played telephone. Then again, it was his job. And he would never have to pay for cable. I mean... he did... he was definitely a history channel dork... but it was an expression to demonstrate that his job was also highly entertaining for him. He did not have much sympathy for the "innocent" citizens the men he worked with hurt. Or the men's who's knee caps he had shot out. Never had. He was not sociopathic or anything. You would assume for someone to be able to torture a man for money, while muting his phone so he could listen to his mother talk about the new raspberry pie recipe she made, would have had something horrible happen to him right? Yeah well, guess again. I mean, growing up for his was not the picture perfect life. His father left his mother and him a long time ago. He grew up feeling like it was his mom and him against the world. But honestly? It was because of his uncles, who got into crime to make sure their family didn't go under after their parents, Ced's grandparents, had been murdered by crossfire. Then, were able to make Ced and his mother comfortable at least before his Uncle Tavin retired in order to be around them more after his father left. Tavin and Hunter were his father figures, the men he looked up to, adding Fausto to the list once he got to know him. That was why he had a blind eye to all the actual humanity being lost around him. He was raised to see it as "just how the world works." He never knew the "Leave it to Beaver" family. He never experienced the "Brady Bunch" world. And he didn't really even care. But Cedric Austin Adair was also far far away from evil or the devil on earth. He had never really thought about it, but he could never be the mass murderer, Kill for a job, sure, but he could never shoot an innocent kid. Leave him without a coke addicted father? Sure. Rape was also another line for him. Then again, he had never felt the need for power, and after all, that's what rape's really about right? No, Cedric was happy with his life, as is. Fun, free, moderate violence, a lot of travel and a lot of women. He couldn't help but look twice at the red head in front of him though. "jus' what i always wanted. someone to take away all me boredom. ye be a saint fella." She was definitely a different sort of girl than he usually met in the US of A. She had more of her Irish in her. He appreciated that. The Scots and the Irish, criminally have never really had issues, mostly because Scotland is not exactly known for criminal organizations. Citizens though tend to have some resentment, at least they did. Both countries found enemy in the British at some point... but again, Ced liked to know about old rivalries, he did not like to partake. He was a proud Scotsman who could say with assurance that this Irish-American was yummy to look at. "And 'ow well do the saintly type fair with the irish lasses?" He asked with a flirtatious grin, leaning slightly on the bar. Cedric smiled and bowed his head for a moment as she mentioned payment. He tilted his head back up to look at her and shake his head slightly, "I'm disappointed." He began kiddingly, "Yer underestimate me... I a'ready got my arse paid. Just fulfillin' my end of the agreement." Cedric gave her a smile and shrugged, "I neva go back on my word... ya know, 'cept for the times I do." it's so easy to fool with the sound

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY CARS

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[juliette sinead webber]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 20px solid #7D463F; border-bottom:20px solid #7D463F; border-top:20px solid #7D463F; border-right: 20px solid #7D463F;] jules was the light-hearted type. she loved very few people in this world but when she did she did so with all the furvor in the world. she was a fierce lover and she wouldn't let anyone hurt the people who she cared about the most. mainly that meant that her parents and her sister were the most important people in her life and she wouldn't let a soul get close enough to hurt them. jules didn't dare. she'd never forgive herself if the people she cared about most ended up hurt. thankfully that list was a short one and for that reason she could keep better track of them and make sure they were better safe than anyone else on her radar. her parents knew, kind of, what she did for a living. they knew that she did jobs for the irish but they didn't know what she shipped and they probably wouldn't have liked it one bit if she'd been honest with them. it was for their own good. besides it wasn't like their hands were completely clean either. jules knew all about the secret meetings that went on in the back room at the eighth. she knew exactly what kind of damage those badass bikers plotted around one of jules' own little tables, using the bar as a solid cover. most people didn't even know about the back room. they probably just figured that the stairs in the back lead to the webber's house, which it did, but there was also another stairway in the back that lead to a hallway with a back entrance which had a room hanging off of it. before the irish had turned into a biker gang, ripping the power away from the selwyn family which really hadn't done much with the title except kill a few people, the room had just been for extra storage of liquor that the webber's shouldn't have stockpiled. when the gang's leader murphy had come to them, asking about a place to meet in one of those "if you know what i mean" kind of talks, the room had been emptied and they'd been allowed to use it as they please. for a nominal fee of course. the gang hadn't minded doing special favors or paying up for use of the room and since not many people knew about the back entrance either it was a pretty good trade off. jules wasn't ignorant of the situation. she knew it was likely that some unfavorables knew about her place of residence and business and that they could do some less than desirable things to her home/work should they chose to. all she had to say to that was that a bar was replaceable. the lives of her family members were not and thus if anyone took out her home and her family at the same time and jules managed to live through it, she would happily bleed the bastards dry. in most cases jules didn't have a lust for blood. she didn't have a problem with someone until they had a problem with her and made it really known. in most cases the only times jules really got into fights was when she had been forced to defend herself from someone who obviously had wanted a fight. other than that jules was a happy, calm individual. she liked her bar, she liked her bike, she liked her job, and all in all she was just happy with life. so far nothing had come along to ruin that. she didn't feel pressure from anyone to do something other than what she was meant to do and though jules hadn't very well solidified what it was she was meant to do in this world people still weren't telling her. made worlds of sense. people didn't tell her that she should be this or should be that. whatever jules wanted to do in her life the only people who mattered, her family, were going to tell her that she had the right to do and to be anything she wanted. that was the best part of living in this family. despite it all everyone was so understanding. her mother had married her father so he wouldn't have to grow up in a world of hate and it had worked. they'd had two children together and that was more than they had ever anticipated giving to one another and it was all either had ever wanted. jules' father was free to be with whatever man made him happy and her mother was free to be with whatever man she wanted to be. they had an open relationship that worked for them and the other people involved. all in all the webbers had managed to find a grouping of people who were more tolerant than others. they'd weeded through the bad to find a pair of two good souls who knew that their arrangement had been the best for them way back when. it was possible that after tolerance won out and states began making gay marriages legal that the webbers could have separated. they could have divorced to be with the other person they loved but this situation had just worked out so well for them. there wasn't any point in fighting what just fit and as long as no one involved had an issue with it then there was no need to go messing with it. that american saying was that if it wasn't broke, don't fix it and such was the case for the webber family. there was no sense in fixing a totally unique relationship that had otherwise worked out for the rest of the world. didn't mean that she wasn't willing to protect herself. jules had a arsenal of methods that would help her to overcome her opposition if that was what the situation called for. and she would use it if she had to. the lad in front of her didn't appear to be the sort to want to ff her so she remained mildly skeptical but all in all she trusted that he wasn't here to do her arm. wasn't like she wasn't prepared in the unlikely case that he did. there was always a shotgun within her reach when she stood behind the bar. loaded, of course. "the saintly type get by mighty fine with most. ye be well armed in 'ere lad. one of 'em filet mignon's er somet'in' along them lines." she said with a returning smirk. "aye and now ye miss yer chance at gettin' a little somet'in' on the side. i was all ready to give ye a kiss as payment." she teased him right back, only half meaning every word that came out of her mouth. she slid the envelope out from under his hand and slid it below the bar into a lock box which she swiftly put to good use, giving him a shrug and a disappointed glance. "that there's bad luck. ye missed yer chance. afraid you'll have to tender some other secret message for ye next attempt." she said as she turned and skitted down the bar, checking on the regulars who were too caught up in their own drama or their own television shows to have cared what the bartender was saying to a strange man. "now will ye be wantin' another drink or are ye headed on ye merry way?' she asked, glancing over her shoulder to the lad once again. notes, tag: cedric. word count, 1,248 thanks brooklyn from caution

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[cedric]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #080808 solid 30px; ] it's so easy to fly through a window OUTFIT: Here, but with shoes TAGGED: JULES<3 --- THE TRUTH WAS THAT CEDRIC WAS FAR, FAR FROM the saintly type. Part of Cedric's job was collecting debts. The man was ruthless when on the job. He was not one of those sadists with major bloodlust. He didn't break someone's leg with a smile on my face but he didn't do it feeling bad for the man either. You get in business with these people, you know what the fuck you're getting into. Don't pay up? Your punishment was on your own head. He was not emotionally bothered by it. He was rarely emotionally bothered by anything. He did not like people going after his family and he did not like men who couldn't step up when they get a girl pregnant. Cedric might not stay with the woman if he got a one night stand pregnant but he would not abandon the girl with some child she never asked to have. He would help financially, he would find a way to be in the kid's life as much as he could. He would probably love having a kid. Spoil them rotten. Now, those types of men he did in fact, enjoy hurting. There was this one man he was helping out the Italians, getting in their debt and the man was begging Cedric and the Italian soldier he was with, begging them for another week before they hurt him too badly. They were gonna give him the week before breaking a knee cap but when Cedric found out the man had a plan to rip off his wife and ditch her and the kids for the money, he broke the man's whole leg and told him to find another way, and that if Cedric found out he fucked his family over, there wouldn't be enough money in the world to stop Cedric from unleashing the proper beating. Cedric was not in the business of watching men fuck over their families like it was no big deal. You take care of your own. Guard them with your lives. You don't have to love everyone. You can love a very select few, but don't lie about it. You love someone? Then act like it. Show your loyalty and your respect, don't pussy out at the last minute because you couldn't be bothered. Cedric respected people who were loyal to those they cared about. It was a requirement to get close to him. He hated people who backstabbed anyone they supposedly loved. It was cowardly. It was also the trigger for his emotional responses. It was probably because Cedric's father left him and his mother when he was eight years old. Cedric and his mother were both from a very small town. His father? He was from Edinburgh, big city man, in a tiny tiny village? He had his pick of the women. Including Ced's mum. . He treated her like crap. Verbal abuse, a slap here or there, but mostly, most painfully for her, he kept cheating on her. He would apologize and beg her to take him back, she would and he would do it again. Apparently though, he only got bad after Cedric was born. His mom would never tell him so flat out but that was how it seemed. His mom never got her 20 year old body back after Cedric was born. She had him when she was 26, she had just gotten the bakery running swiftly. Growing up, Ced knew how to gage when his mother was extra stressed over his father by how much extra food she baked, or what type the food was. Hunter, Cedric's uncle who worked loyally for the Italian mafia, would come for the holidays, stop buy every so often when Tavin, my other uncle, would call him and tell him Ced's father was being a jackass. Hunter told him, years after all this, that he had threatened his father's life multiple times. His father had wanted to abandon his mother and him many times, Hunter would threaten him, he would come back. It was when Cedric was eight his mother had enough and made his dad choose. Ced's father chose to leave them. And leave them he did. Good riddens. Cedric was glad he left, but watching his mother try so hard, a kid on her own, a bakery to run? It was hard for her. It was why he got so much love from his extended family growing up. But for a long time, it was just Cedric and his mother against the world. It was also probably why Cedric was such a mama's boy. Play boy or not, merciless on the job or not, Cedric had his warm spots. His family was one of them, the biggest of them. Maybe he could have been a saint in another life but in this life, he was much happy as he was. "the saintly type get by mighty fine with most. ye be well armed in 'ere lad. one of 'em filet mignon's er somet'in' along them lines." And women like this were just a few of the reasons why he preferred a lack of sainthood. Cedric shook his head, "Naw, not me type, much more into quines like you." He replied with a smile. The girl behind the bar, Jules, was quite pretty. She was a different sort of pretty than he saw around this Californian city. She wasn't as dainty and owned it. She was a redhead, always a plus for him. Her eyes were huge gorgeous ovals, she just had a sarcastic sass in her appearance and the way she wore her body, before she even speaks. Cedric met a lot of women. He was with a lot of women, but he was always on the look out for someone new. Someone who could actually make him smile for more than the feelings happening in his penis. "aye and now ye miss yer chance at gettin' a little somet'in' on the side. i was all ready to give ye a kiss as payment." Cedric through his head back in a semi-sarcastic scoff before looking back at her, "Gugh! Ya should 'ave told me, bonnie! I figured ye were a bit 'arder to bag." He added with a shake of his head. "that there's bad luck. ye missed yer chance. afraid you'll have to tender some other secret message for ye next attempt." Cedric put on a face look of serious determination and pointed at her, "Bet yer arse onnit." He retorted before leaning onto the bar a bit farther and shrugging, "But for the sake of 'onesty, now that I know yer currency, the next secret will be worth a fair deal more." He spoke in a friendly non-serious tone. Believe me, it was obvious he was not implying she was a hooker in anyway shape or form. He watched her as she walked down to deal briefly with the other people in the bar, admittedly watching her ass as she walked away before she came back towards him. "now will ye be wantin' another drink or are ye headed on ye merry way?' He smiled at her for a moment, "I'll 'ave an ale, but only so I can tip you." he replied, nodding over to whatever was on tap. It was an Irish place, and if their was one thing the Scots and Irish could at least partially agree on, it was alcohol. it's so easy to fool with the sound

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY CARS

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[juliette sinead webber]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 20px solid #7D463F; border-bottom:20px solid #7D463F; border-top:20px solid #7D463F; border-right: 20px solid #7D463F;] funny thing was that jules loved the bar just about as much as she loved everything else in her life that she was doing. she loved hanging out with the regulars and getting to know them inside and out in the same way that she got a rush from gun running. the thrills were all different. the bar tended to jules' never-ending desire to be social. because you see she could be social without actually letting people in. that was what jules was shy about. she didn't like letting people into her lives or into her heart unless they were born that way or gave her some damn good reason. that of course couldn't stop her from chatting up a storm. she could talk these people's ears off and still not let them in on a single personal thing in her life. it was actually interesting to see. jules would either lie right to your face or she would change the subject altogether. she didn't talk about herself. she certainly didn't let people in on her real emotions and what she was really feeling. that was irish blasphemy. you dealt with your own problems. you dealt with your own shit. and if you were too cowardly to do so? you were a weakness and you weren't necessary. you were expendable. jules liked to not fall into that category in the slightest. she was lucky to be doing what she was doing and she understood that. she didn't need to go giving the new irish a reason to take her out of the equation. they were already iffy about her because she was overly emotional, overly chatty, and overly hormonal like a woman would be. jules understood that this whole power play was a male dominated show of whose dick was bigger. she wasn't about to test that in the slightest. she sat back, she did what she was told, and she got her little thrills in wherever she could. that was her lot in life but it was enough for her. she didn't have the sense to run a mob. she could head operations and be in charge if it was absolutely necessary but it wasn't something she was actively looking to do. she didn't raise her hand like an eager schoolchild when people asked who wanted to take point. she ran her guns and she let that be that. not every woman in her position could stand something like that. in fact she'd heard a few around town had an issue with that. they had the desire to be something more. good for them. jules was happy in her niche, whatever said niche was this month or next year. true she liked what she was doing now but that was always subject to change. maybe bartending and gun running would be too much one day. maybe it wouldn't be enough. either way she was malleable. she didn't have to acclimate to a situation if it changed because she wasn't stuck in it. jules had plenty more opportunities in her life, but what she was handed now was enough for her. what she was doing now was making her smile and giving her the rush she needed. what more was there to be said? and for now the bar was enough. she had her familiar faces and she had her family within arm's reach. she had her fill of booze and beer nuts. she had rock music to keep her company when no one else was around. she could get her jive on when no one was around and she needed to clean off tables or something. it was fun. and when the place was packing? it hummed with a kind of life. it wasn't the same kind of doped up energy that you would feel in a club setting. it felt much more real. it was real people hanging in a comfortable setting and having a real, good time. there were no false pretenses, no fake smiles. if you were unhappy and just wanted to drink then people would leave you alone and if they didn't you were free to bash them over with the stool as long as you replaced it. if you were happy and wanted to buy the guys a round then that was wonderful. all in all the feeling of eighth and main was calm and carefree and it was the kind of environment jules loved surrounding herself with. that was the reason why she really hadn't wanted to go elsewhere or try something new. she hadn't become uncomfortable yet which tended to help things along. because there never was much of a reason to look for something elsewhere when you had no want to leave in the first place. this man across the bar seemed like every sort of man jules' mother would warn her about. he was charming, intriguing, and that smile could coax you out of your pants in a heartbeat. worst of all was that he appeared to know that. but of course, jules wasn't one to give in so easily. "i figured ye would have at least givin' it a shot. and i am, ye just needed to learn that the 'ard way." she watched him point and smirked, amused by his antics. even if he was a charmer he played along with her personality and that was fun. if anything else he was fun. she gave him a sharp nod in response, giving him a mock serious look. "i'll be keepin' me eye out for it." she leaned in a little as well, not closing the gap by any stretch but coaxing him on a little. it was a quiet day and he was likely to be her only entertainment for the time being. why the hell not? "well then. i 'ope ye finds out somet'in' good then." she grabbed him his drink at his request, topping it off before she passed it on. "'at'll be four my good man." she said as she wiped up the bar after his drink and slung it over her right shoulder. notes, tag: cedric. word count, 1,019 thanks brooklyn from caution

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[cedric]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #080808 solid 30px; ] it's so easy to fly through a window OUTFIT: Here, but with shoes TAGGED: JULES<3 --- CEDRIC HAD NEVER HAD MUCH OF A PROBLEM WITH THE LADIES apart from when a few of them found out he could be a complete and total assface. But over all he had never had any issues. He had been rejected, of course, but rejected by girls he was looking to for random hook ups and nothing more. There was this one girl a couple years back. Alyssa, Cedric thinks her name was, depending on the reliability of his memory at the moment. She was a gorgeous girl. Curvy in all the right ways, big honey brown eyes, long dirty blonde hair. She also happened to be a very nice girl, not that cedric really cared. Don't get him wrong, he liked girls who stood out as different. Might try a bit harder to get them between the sheets but that was really it. Alyssa was not a girl he even found that interesting. She was hot, that was about it to him. But since she was also such a sweet girl, she had standards and Cedric had to play the nice guy a bit more than he usually does. After succeeding he sort of lost interest. Something that happens a fair amount actually. So he sort of just stopped calling and did whatever the hell he wanted, as usual. But this Alyssa ended up standing out a bit because she came and found him. She asked what she had done wrong. Cedric had told her the truth, nothing, he was just done with her. She began to get upset, saying that people had warned her, yada yada all the depressing shit that goes on in pathetic little girl's lives and then she asked him "Who broke you heart to make you like this?" And Cedric had noticed this sort of reaction from a lot of different people he spoke to or who knew about the way he was with women. And even more so when the rare person saw or heard the way he was with him mother where he becomes the biggest mama's boy on the planet but the truth was no one had ever broken Cedric's heart. The only woman he truly cared about was his mother and that was a very different kind of relationship. He had never been in love, he had never really even truly liked a girl. He had liked some girls more than others but at the end of the day, they still registered to him as a lay and nothing more. He had never liked anyone enough to get hurt by them. He wondered briefly if that made him worse because he didn't have some broken hearted, sob story of being cheated on or left at the alter or both. He was just a dick. At least he was a guy who knew how to take no for an answer at not be a stalker, or worse. If a girl rejected him but they were friendly with each other he might mark and flirty remark here and there but he was not the type of guy to ever make a girl worry about being forced into anything. He might end up hurting girls a lot because he leaves them, but he makes sure he will never be the guy who makes a girl frightened that if they were alone together he would try something or that her life might be in danger. He knew where the creeper line was and he stayed far away from it. He just didn't have the time to worry about an actual relationship, nor did he have any interest. The redhead Jules in front of him seemed like a good time, but he liked her so far, bit more than others, simply because she seemed like the type that even if he couldn't sleep with her, she was funny and chill enough that they could still have some verbal fun play time and that was almost as good. "i figured ye would have at least givin' it a shot. and i am, ye just needed to learn that the 'ard way." Cedric laughed, "By makin' me think I missed my chance?" He asked rhetorically in mock offense, "Ye know, yor a cold one, ms. webber. Just might break my fragile 'eart." Cedric placed a hand over his heart as he spoke sarcastically. Fragile heart, his ass. He did like that the girl had spunk. He couldn't help but think that she was the type of girl his Uncle Hunter would have liked a lot. Hunter was like a father to Cedric, well sort of, at least he had been similar to a father figure. After Cedric's father ran out on them, his Uncles, Hunter and Tavin, had really taken over taking care of the family. Tavin stayed in Glennfinnan, Hunter kept working for the Italians and sending money back and Hunter would also visit and teach Cedric the tricks of the trade, he made him who he was. Regretfully, his Uncle Hunter had died two years ago. He was killed, shot through the heart during a police raid while he had been taking care of some business with the Italians in Naples. He had taken it kind of hard and went of the grid with his job for a short time. He had wanted to be home in Glennfinnan for his mother. She needed someone to be with her after she lost her brother. Her son was there for her. He would always be there when she needed him. And that was what he told himself but really, he had needed to be around his family for a bit as well. He needed to move on. Once she had gotten her feet back on the ground, Cedric had continued on with his work. Did some work for the Irish over seas. Some work for the Triads, red dragon, not white. Had some fun in Amsterdam after running into two criminals known as Basher and Heyward, fun group of guys. But then came to Valkyrie to reconnect with some of his Italian friends. He was having a good time thus far in the city of the underworld. Valkyrie had so far lived up to his expectations, it was no Scotland but it was definitely a fun and profitable place to be. The girls only sweetening the pot. "i'll be keepin' me eye out for it." He gave a small wink and a smile as she leaned in, "well then. i 'ope ye finds out somet'in' good then." she added. Cedric shrugged, "I can't promise somethin' good, only somethin' valuable." He replied standing up a bit straighter, "I promse ya, it'll be enough." He could not control the information he came across because he could not control the people in the world but he made sure his information was accurate and as complete as possible. He watched as she poured him a drink and handed it over to him. He pulled out his wallet and put six bucks on the table for the drink and tip. A little more than the average tip for a four buck drink but not enough to look like he was being ridiculous and lacking in self respect. He put it down on the bar and raised his beer to her before taking a good drink from the glass before putting it back down, "So bonnie," He began, looking over at her, "what does a quine like ya do for fun? I mean, apart from makin' fun of good'earted fellas like me?" it's so easy to fool with the sound

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY CARS

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[juliette sinead webber]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 20px solid #7D463F; border-bottom:20px solid #7D463F; border-top:20px solid #7D463F; border-right: 20px solid #7D463F;] if he thought she had spunk now than he really hadn't seen anything yet. see her when the place was packed and she was bringing out the best in the bar goers by hoping up on a table with a few local girls and just having a good time. jules could definitely lighten up a crowd if she wanted to and when the place was hopping she almost couldn't help herself. eighth and main would come alive. if there was ever a time when jules thought that a bar could have a pulse and a heartbeat it was when there was an arse in every seat and a drink in ever hand. it was always incredible to watch. the lonely hearts or the angry drinkers would often hunker down in a little two-seater table in the back, order a bottle of jack or something and would nurse their pain for as long as was necessary but as for the rest of the crowd there were a lot of happy, stumbling drunk men who were loud and played really bad air guitar to the dropkick murphys playing on the jukebox but it was the kind of welcoming, fun atmosphere that a person could get lost in. it was the kind of atmosphere that pretty much did jules' job for her. as a bartender her job was to get people the drinks they wanted and make sure that they were having as good a time as she could give them. just the overall feel of the good-hearted nature of the eighth brought people back. jules' job didn't have to be to keep bringing people back they came back on their own. all she ever needed to do was keep filling up glasses and that was easy enough for her to manage. that of course didn't stop her from having her own fun. jules could still be counted on to go about passing out shots and spinning in circles. her laugh was infectious and people who came in around eight or nine could always be counted on to see her having the time of her life. and jules did it on more than one occasion. it wasn't a rare thing to find jules dancing along with a patron or screaming the chorus of "shipping up to boston" with the rest of the guys. she'd hop up on the bar and just make every night a little more fun and the people who came to the eighth and experienced that seemed to love it because she couldn't seem to keep them away. of course the afternoon crowd was much more calm, much more sane. all she had to do was give them a tall glass and put on their favorite television channel and her work was usually done. the mood was always a little slower around this time which was often a good thing. jules liked to have fun with the night crowd but being that kind of perky when no one else wanted or needed her to be was a big relief. it would be like trying to squeeze water from a stone. instead she was happy to be entertained by a new stranger who was really beginning to intrigue her. "we can't 'ave that now can we?" jules said with a smirk, watching him feign heartbreak. she didn't buy it for a second as she was intended not to. jules had had too many men try those kind of lines on her to no avail. this one would have no success either but jules had to wonder if she might give him the time of day should he keep on trying. she was curious to see what else he had in store. "aye well if ye be wantin' a kiss then ye better be bringin' me somet'in' good an' valuable." she said with a nod. she wasn't going to let him in that easily. she slid her hand to the money and slid it off the counter, putting the drink's worth in the cashier and the tip in a jar under the counter. "thank ya love." she said over her shoulder before she turned her attention back to him. she walked around the bar to head over to him, listening to him speak. "i spend me time by breakin' the 'earts of good 'earted fellas love." she teased with a chuckle as she reached a hand out to him, waiting for him to take it before she lead him to the dance floor. she punched a button in the jukebox for a medium paced song, turning to face him as she cocked her head at him. "'ow light on ye feet are ye lad?" she asked with a smile. she would keep him on his toes yet. notes, wicked short, so sorry, he should totes kiss her xD. word count, 780 thanks brooklyn from caution

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[cedric]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #080808 solid 30px; ] it's so easy to fly through a window OUTFIT: Here, but with shoes TAGGED: JULES<3 --- CRIMINALS TENDED TO BE ON THE TWO EXTREMES WHEN IT CAME to the issue of family. Some criminals had been jaded past the point of caring. Family was weakness. It go in the way. Nothing valuable in it, then why bother. Cedric could not count how many of these human beings he had met along the way. Men and even woman who had turned their backs on their brothers, sisters, cousins, mothers, their children. Now, Cedric can understand someone turning away from family who had already turned away from them... You could only guess how quickly Cedric would chase away his father if he were to ever show him his face again, but when the family has done nothing? And even worse when the family has only tried to take care of you and love you? And even worse, when the family succeeded in loving you with all their hearts and some poor bastard doesn't appreciate it and turns on them. The thing is, even though he hated his father. All Cedric remembered from the man was abuse and abuse and then abandonment. Even if Cedric was ordered by someone... the Italians maybe, even if they ordered him to kill his father? He wouldn't. He would refuse and do his best to explain. Cedric hated his father in the way any child hates a parent who has hurt them, but when the sun goes down, his father was still his father. Cedric wouldn't want him in his life, but he wouldn't want him to be murdered by his own family. There are very few reasonings he could see to maybe justify the killing of your own family, and really all fell under "it happened so quickly, they were trying to kill me." In the moment self defense. And that actually isn't considered murder. Had to be one of the most disgusting forms of murder on the planet to Cedric A'Dair. But hey, that was him. He had met about a thousand to many individuals who never spoke to their families, who never knew their families. Messiness, all of it. Cedric's family was tight knit. Complicated, imperfect, sure. But true to their beliefs, at the end of the day, they were family. Strangers he couldn't care less about in general. The Pretty strangers he tended to care a bit more about. And the funny ones who had a personality Cedric could get behind. But when the stranger were both of those, well then, he was a happy man. So far he dug the little bar on the corner of 8th and Main. It had sort of the old fashioned bar feel to it. Fun, loud and dingy when it needed to be, quite and relaxing in the afternoons but still fun. A hot bartender with red hair. Cedric enjoyed having a good time but it would be a flat out lie to say he was very into the modern styled bars that really shouldn't be called bars but instead be called mini-clubs. Filled with loud, sweaty people dry humping instead of actual dancing. Cedric would rather just get to having real sex and real foreplay than the crap that happens on the dance floors of places such as Bare or Nonsense, which were both local joints. Whatever, didn't matter. This bar he liked. This bartender was only three fourths of the reason. Cedric took a good drink as she turned around, putting the money away. He set the drink down and looked up at the pretty girl, "I do my best, I can promise ya that." He replied with a smile. What? He didn't really have any control what so ever of what relevant information he hears on the job. Whether it's good or bad for them is not in his control. What is in his control is double checking the accuracy and making sure he isn't wasting anybody's time by selling them information they can't use or information they already know. But while valuable isn't always good news, it is always good to know. And these games these gangs and organizations are playing at, it's no longer about who has the bigger guns. It's no longer about who has more muscles. It's even becoming less about how many people you had on your side especially because the more members, the less loyal each individual and the more open to betrayal you became. No, what it really was about was knowing the next person's step, and knowing as much about the enemy as humanly possible. That was why hackers like Syl Rivers, and A. Heyward were in higher demand than they ever were before. Electronic age and all. Cedric smirked as she walked around the bar towards him, "i spend me time by breakin' the 'earts of good 'earted fellas love." Cedric laughed a bit taking her hand as she held it out for him. He stood but froze for a moment keeping ahold of her hand as he reached back and took the last few gulps of beer from his glass before placing it back down on the bar and allowing her to lead him over to the jukebox, "Really? Well, bonnie, I'd like to see ya try get to mine." He said in a friendly but direct tone, insinuating it as a friendly challenge. He glanced at her as the jukebox sung out. Cedric was an alright dancer alone. I mean, he couldn't tap, or break dance, or krump or anything. He would be in no music videos but he could keep beat and tempo and just dance. But he was fairly better than average when it came to dancing with a woman. He knew how to swing, waltz, etc. Dorkily enough, his mother had taught him a long time ago. "The only way to dance with flare" his mother had always said. "'ow light on ye feet are ye lad?" Cedric smirked and reached for her hand again, giving a gentle pull to spin her into him with his arm wrapped around her, "Not 'orribly.." He said, humble words but with a semi-cocky tone, speaking more softly since he was now much closer to her ear and making the lass deaf probably wouldn't be a smooth move. He smiled at her before, subtly switching hands spinning her back out on the other side before stepping close to her to put his arm around her waist, keeping her hand in his in time with the music. it's so easy to fool with the sound

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[juliette sinead webber]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 20px solid #7D463F; border-bottom:20px solid #7D463F; border-top:20px solid #7D463F; border-right: 20px solid #7D463F;] jules was having one hell of a time. usually she didn't get this close with patrons but what could she say really? he'd caught her on a good day. she was in a decent mood and the bar had been quiet so she'd been willing to be sweet-talked by a stranger. it wasn't a common practice of jules' to flirt with patrons, or at least not seriously, but she liked this one. he was a charmer and a flirt but it all felt so...safe? safe wasn't a good word, guiltless? maybe that was better. flirting with him felt like it came without strings or repercussions which was more than good enough as far as jules was concerned. she liked that a whole lot more than when other patrons flirted with her and made her feel like a piece of meat. she was all for being wanted, but being sought after as an easy lay just because she doled out the booze on a night by night basis didn't make her easy. jules was the farthest thing from easy by any means. of course she was super hard to get to know. jules liked to be closed off. most people didn't like her for her personality anyways. when you were this close to tinsel town and everything that entailed it was hard to find someone who gave a shit about you for who you really were. it was always about the looks, the ass, the tits, the hair, whatever and jules really had no plans to play into all that bullshit. she was much happier being the bartender who was just out of everyone's reach because no one really wanted her for her and that was something she'd come to terms with a long, long time ago. she smiled as she was spun out and in, stepping up close to him as her arm rested on her shoulder. her fingers played with the hairs on the back of his neck as her hips swayed from side to side. she was quite enjoying this and the best part was that they weren't entertainment to the regulars at the bar. tas long as they could see the television and read the captions that came along with the channel it was one they didn't care what was going on in the background. no one really cared to watch them or smiled when they acted like cute little children. "yer bett'r t'an i t'ought ye were gonna be." jules said with honesty. she wasn't sure why she was all that surprised but he hadn't come across as some whiz on the dance floor. then again she didn't look like she could be too light on her feet either. fact of the matter was that then it came to partnered dancing like this she was a novice. she certainly wouldn't be winning any awards in dance, nor would she be looking to do so. she continued to dance with him, her cheek lightly resting against his as they danced, spinning about until the song came to a stop. once over jules stepped away like the dance was nothing, playing it off as a simple little way to pass the time even though deep down she had really, really enjoyed it. she gave him a little wink as she turned her back to him, heading back to the bar and picking up a towel once again. she gave a few refills before stopping off at his spot at the bar. "so will t'at be all for ye lad?" she asked as she brushed a strand of red hair out of her face. "ye ready to be shippin' off?" notes, wicked short, so sorry, he should totes kiss her xD. word count, 611 thanks brooklyn from caution

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[cedric]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #080808 solid 30px; ] it's so easy to fly through a window OUTFIT: Here, but with shoes TAGGED: JULES<3 --- IT WAS THE LITTLE THINGS, THE SMALL TINY DETAILS ABOUT A person that made them human. It was the mannerisms. It was when you found out someone didn't like mushrooms because the idea of fungus grossed them out, or that they enjoy the smell of baking bread practically over any other scent since they were raised over a bakery that their mother owned, or that mist and fogs makes them feel home sick. These details are what makes up a human being, it is not what gives them value but it is what makes them human. Imagine for a moment thinking of some of the worst men in history. Osama Bin Laden for example. He was a horrible person, we can all agree on that. When he was killed the country of the USA celebrated. People saw him as a monster and not a human because they focused on his actions but imagine being in a room with him and instead of talking about politics or what he had done, he was telling you about his mother and how much he loved her. Imagine him telling you about his favorite movies, his favorite foods. Imagine him telling you that he loved the feel of the sun on his skin and sand between his toes, that a certain article of clothing had been given to him by his favorite uncle and when he wore it, he felt like that Uncle was still alive. It is hard to imagine that man saying anything of the kind because all we are used to is thinking of him as a monster. But honestly, Cedric thought it was important not to separate these men out at all. The way he saw it, people needed to recognize, acknowledge and accept that human beings were, in fact, capable of such all consuming hatred that they would do such horrible things. We need to stop pretending that somehow the human race is defined by by being humane on a large scale and accept that sometimes, most of the time, the ruthless animal kingdom is more compassionate than humans. after all, isn't the first step of solving a problem always admitting their is? Cedric, for one, was curious onto what Bin Ladin's favorite color was. After all, that seemed to be a standard go to question when it came to getting to know someone. Cedric did not know anything big about the redhead he was dancing with. He did not know exactly where she was from. He didn't know if she had ever killed a person. He did not know if she was Christian, Jewish, converted Hindu. He had not a clue if she were a democrat, a republican or an independent and he didn't need too yet. Because what he did know was that she was a quick wit, she enjoyed playful banter, she liked to swing a rag over her shoulder to keep it handy and out of the way most of the time. She liked to challenge a man who flirted with her, giving him rope enough to feel like he had a chance but never letting herself be truly roped in. She had a smile when she was surprised and a smile when she was being coy. Probably had more for other moments, so there, little details. She was human, she was real and that meant, she was far from perfect. And THAT meant, she was more interesting. Cedric enjoyed interesting over all other things. The girls who pretended they were perfect by concealing their habits and mannerisms with sexy looks and hoping they emphasize they're breasts and talking in a slightly baby voice, were not only boring to Cedric, they also reminded him more of a sex toy robot woman than an actual human being. Same goes for guys were are constantly trying to be "the man." Cedric shrugged like it was nothing when she admitted he was better than she thought he was going to be. He smiled and laughed a little bit, "Well, I might not be winning dance offs any time soon but I was taught the basics." He said casually, enjoying the dancing. His mother had taught him to dance when he was still a little kid. She did a wonderful job of leading backwards so he would eventually learn to lead. Swing was his favorite but it was hard to find any girls who knew how unless he explicitly went to a swing club which he quite enjoyed. I don't know, there was something about jazz and swing that was just so much more fun than other dancing. But of course his mother also taught him some of the more basic dancing as well. Strange though for some people to think of Cedric learning dance from his mother. Hell most people didn't realize he was as much of a mama's boy as he was. Not because he hid it but because no one ever asked and mostly assumed he wouldn't be. Cedric smirked slightly as she winked at him as they finished dancing. He followed her over to the bar and leaned on it. "so will t'at be all for ye lad? ye ready to be shippin' off?" Cedric smiled slightly and put up his index fingers, "Aye actually 'ave one more thing to do." He said, his smirk translating into his tone before he quickly leaned across the counter and kissed her. The kiss was bold but nothing too forceful. No tongue, just locked his lips to hers for a few moments for pulling back. He smiled, "I'll be seein' you bonnie," Cedric pulled back completely before giving her a wink and beginning to head out. ((Not sure when you want to stop it, maybe go to the next one?)) it's so easy to fool with the sound

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY CARS

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