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Post by loekie on Mar 19, 2009 0:05:29 GMT 1
*Beep Beep beep*
An arm shot out from under the cover knocking the blasted thing to the floor. There was a groan and a blonde head now appeared from under the covers as well. A young teen rubbed his eyes as he slowly sat up running a hand through his longish blonde hair.
“James, get your lazy ass down here” came a shout from down the stairs. The boy sighed “Coming” he yelled back even though he knew the danger behind it. He swung his legs from under the covers, took a quick shower and got ready for the day ahead. He walked into the kitchen where he got to work fixing the ‘happy family’ breakfast. He didn’t even really care what they did to him, but he just whished he could spare it the new arrival. A small seven year old girl smiled broadly as she saw the tall teen walk in. The man of the house was less pleased though, and before he could get ready for school he had to make sure the new injuries could not be seen. Then he grabbed his bag, took the girl by the hand and walked out of the house.
“Are you hurt?” the girl’s soft voice questioned.
The southerner shook his head “Nah sugar-pop, I’m fine” he smiled at her “come on, you don’t want to be late for school now do ya?”
The girl shook her head and when they arrived to the building he walked in with her and made sure she was alright before heading across the street where the high-school was situated.
James sighed as he walked up to his new school. He threw away his cigarette-but. Was there anything worse then a first day in a new school? He entered the building and headed in searched for the principal’s office, where he assumed he’d be spending a lot of time, to collect his timetable. He then went in search of his first class… History. Marvellous. He sighed sitting down in the back row. He yawned taking out his books and opened one he had just started reading. It might come as s bit surprise, but the young southerner loved to read. It was his way of escaping his hell-hole of a life. His casually leant back in his seat his eyes lazily scanning the book. He really had no intention to pay any attention to the teacher what-so-ever.
The teacher had started his class and kept his eyes on the new blonde that had just started school today. The boy seemed rather into the book he seemed to have brought instead of class. The older man smiled slightly and shook his head as he walked over to the blonde’s desk.
“What was the cause of the WW1.. Mr. Ford?” he asked standing right before the boy.
“People are morons…” the boy replied lazily without looking up from his book.
The teacher was a little taken aback by the answer “thank you for that insight Mr. Ford. The rest of the class just chuckled.
James sighed bored “The relationship between the countries were already strained because of the new imperialism. When the crown prince of Austro-Hungary in 1914, it was the last straw and tada… WW1” he summarized. There were a few more things that had contributed, but hell.. who cared? He hadn’t looked up from his book and now lazily turned a page.
The teacher raised an eyebrow “very well, just put the book away” he ordered smiling slightly.
The blond simply shrugged “sure teach” he responded putting the book back in his bag. He sighed… now how was he going to get through this class? He really hated transferring school. His whole body still ached from the beating he had received the night he had left he last place. So yeah, he had taken a neighbor’s car with a few friends in drunken bravado and had taken it for a joy-ride. He smirked… that had been a great night. There had been alcohol… drugs. God had he been wasted… luckily the police hadn’t shown up until the next day. Ah well.. he’d just get through it like he had survived the rest of his life. He was a loner anyway. He just leaned back in his seat staring out of the window. This was going to be one looong day.
When school was finally over for the day the blonde sighed as he walked over to the girl’s school waiting for her to come outside. It wasn’t long until she bounced over telling all about her first day in school. How she had already made a few friends. The southerner smiled slightly “that’s great sugar-pop” he told her as she took his hand and they made their way home. The blonde did his chores and made diner.
“JAMES” came a shout from the dining-room and the blonde closed his eyes. Would this ever stop? He turned around “YEAH?” he called back as the tall man stepped into the room “Why isn’t diner on the table yet?” he hissed. The blonde frowned “Because it needs another minute or two” he simply replied earning himself a smack in the face. “Don’t be a fucking wise-ass…” the man growled “just get it ready…”
James huffed but soon had diner on the table. Pathetic wasn’t it? Being condemned to be nothing more then a fucking punching bag or personal slave. After he received his almost daily beating he retreated back upstairs to his room. His cell-phone sounded and he frowned “Yeah?” he answered, annoyed.
“Jamie… good I finally caught you” an all to familiar voice sounded. James closed his eyes “Ben... wadda ya want?” he asked running a hand through his hair. There was huffing “what do I want? A Mansion near the sea… couple of girls to fuck, you know the usual, but in order to do so, I do need to get paid” he responded before continuing.
“Cute kid…” it was a subtle, yet all to clear threat.
James frowned. That bastard was spying on him now? He gave a bored sigh like he hadn’t got enough to deal with. Then he turned back to conversation at hand. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Forget it Ben, you leave her the fuck alone” he hissed into the phone “you’ll get your money, tonight, as we had previously agreed” he told the man on the other side. “I better James… I better” he threatened and then the line went dead. The blonde sighed slightly. He’d have to dig into his emergency stash. He retrieved the needed money before sneaking out of the window heading over to the local club. Normally he was not afraid of these guys.. he really wasn’t, but he could not let the little girl be the victim of his stupidity. He sat at the bar wrapping the female bartender around his finger getting her to pour him a shot. He downed another when some guy slid in the stool behind him ordering a drink as well.. “Well, well, well. He showed up…” the man smirked as he ordered a drink as well.
“Shove it Ben” he responded icily glancing around before handing him the money “Here’s your money… now fuck of and leave me alone” he hissed downing another shot.
“Wow… such language from a little boy…” the man smirked downing his drink.
The blonde raised an eyebrow “Whatever ’grandpa’” the blonde sighed “I think we’re through here?” he stated glancing over at the guy next to him who simply shrugged.
“Fine, pleasure doing business with you” he said overly polite with a mock salute. The blonde simply shot him a look while the other man stood and bid his farewell. The blonde smirked watching him leave as he simply ordered another drink. Now he was going to have to find a new supplier. Okay so he wasn’t an addict. Or so he thought anyway. He did not necessarily need the drugs.. it was more of a… well.. number of the pain maybe? Ah well… who cares anyway right? ===================
((okay... so my twisted mind kinda got away from me there... I hope this is alright?))
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 19, 2009 0:30:22 GMT 1
(( okay. real quick what country is this set in? ))
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Post by loekie on Mar 19, 2009 0:31:38 GMT 1
((Hmm... well.. It could be anything really... US, UK, anwhere you want really... James however, is from a small town in Tennessee...))
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 19, 2009 0:42:07 GMT 1
[[ Lol. I live in a small town in TN....middle of bumfuck nowhere...ALMOST anyway. Civilization is only 20 minutes away but at least we have a sonic! College is in a city in TN though so no big thing now. Civilization is withing walking distance. Unless I gatta go to walmart. then I'm fucked. Working on a reply now. I think I'm going to bring Jaska back a few years to his laste twenties....seems a bit less weird than 35 XD ]]
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 19, 2009 4:44:58 GMT 1
Twelve years. It had been twelve years since the brutal murder of Asya and Iakov Belyakova was not any closer to being done with grief. The death of his younger sister had caused his family so much turmoil. His other brother Yasha had been driven mad, and now resided in a Russian asylum…which for the record is not really somewhere one would want to find themselves. His father began using alcohol to quench his sorrows as opposed to his thirst and quickly became bitter and angry. His mother…his poor, poor mother had not spoken a word since the incident. Iakov, or Jaska, as he was called had taken it the best of them all…he had to after all. Someone needed to keep face.
Now, just because he had taken it better did not mean he took it well. At the age of 15, and exactly 3 months after the murder of Asya he joined the local mob…the very men who Raped and Murdered his younger sister. He was not crazy…just brilliant. They taught him how to kill and be ruthless and how to fight. Jaska took his time, brooding…planning…waiting for just the right moment when he could kill every one of them. He got his time of course and as luck would have it, a rather prominent businessman was there to witness it. They had bound the man and tortured him for information on his trade and for the money he owed them. The man indebted himself to Jaska and promised him riches and protection for life.
Shortly thereafter the man began sending him off to kill other mob members who were questioning him for money. Jaska didn’t care much for the man, but he gave him money and his family a new home and paid for his brother’s board at the hospital…so he turned a blind eye when he realized the man was corrupt. He carried out the missions given to him and collected the payment, quickly earning himself a title of assassin.
What started as a mission of revenge quickly turned to one of lust for power and fortune. He sought out the town psychic under the understanding that he could read minds and make objects move without touching them. Jaska threw a sack of money to the man, demanding he teach him the same. The old decrepit man accepted…as times were hard and he needed the money, but he warned him to keep his intentions pure or else things would not turn out exactly as he hoped.
Ignoring his words, Jaska began to study. And practice. And study. And practice. And study some more and practice some more. It took two years to master and he soon found himself reading his victims’ next move before they did it, or trapping them with a flick of his finger. He loved the power, and though it was once a power he possessed…it quickly possessed him in turn. Lately he was finding himself hearing others thoughts without trying to…and it was getting worse. Voices filled his head at all hours of the day. When it was many at once it wasn’t so bad. It was no worse than background noise…but if he were in a room with a few other people he could not concentrate. Naturally humans listen when people are speaking….with three or four thinking at once it’s hard to keep focused.
Tonight he had to put it all aside. He had a job to do and he wouldn’t let this new annoyance bother him too much. Jaska sat in his car, watching…waiting. He had been following this “Benny the Bomb” guy around all day in this shitty green Honda and had gone through one bottle of Vodka and a pack and a half of cigarettes. He eyed the empty bottle begrudgingly And picked it up for the fifth time to shake it. One could never be too sure if the booze was really gone…and so he was sure to check every thirty minutes or so to see if it had replenished itself but was always disappointed.
By American standards…one would call him an alcoholic. Trust was he was just Russian, and no one in America seemed to get that. He didn’t pay much attention to those who criticized him. While the rednecks stumbled out of the bars and ran side first into the doors of their cars before driving away in a frenzied, idiotic manner, Jaska could have twice as many beers or shots as they, and still be seeing straight as an arrow. Alcohol had no effect on his bloodstream anymore. He could drink good Vodka like water…..This Vodka was not good…but it was all he had.
And it was no more.
He lit up one of his last three cigarettes as Ben retreated form the backyard of a run-down looking little house and got into his own car. He let him get a fair distance away before pulling his car from the curb and following him. This guy went to the most random and ridiculous places…and too many strip clubs for one day to hold. No wonder Mr. Molyovits wanted him taken care of…The man was a waste of space…and currently a waist of Jaska’s time.
The dumb fuck pulled into a bar after about twenty minutes and hurried inside. The night was darker with the new moon and there was an ally way right beside the establishment. Prefect. Jaska flicked the cigarette from his window after one last puff, allowing the smoke to overflow from his mouth and nose before grabbing his gun from the passenger seat. He fingered the silencer in his pocket, shoving the weapon in his belt, hiding it with his jacket and stepped out. His shoes crunched against the gravel parking lot mercilessly as he made his way to the deck. A few men stumbled past him as he came to a stop to lean against the outer wall. Slowly he took another Cigarette from his pocket and lit it…though this one would be put to much better use in a moment.
Not even ten minutes later the man stepped out of the bar again. “Psst. Benny.” Jaska hissed. The man turned around and glared at him.
Who the fuck is this shmuck? “Who’s askin?”
Jaska cleared his throat, pushing himself off of the wall and flicking the ashes from his cigarette. Slowly he pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. “I hear you have good stuff. Is true? I can take money elsewhere…” His Russian accent woven in his deep voice. He pocketed the money and shrugged. “I was misinformed I guess?”
Shit, that’s a lot of money….fuck it. alright/ Perfect. Jaska had him right where he wanted him. “No no no…now…wait a minute buddy, don’t be hasty…” The man’s eyes darted around suspiciously before motioning to the ally way. “Step into my office.” It’ll be quick. I’ll make bank. This guy his foreign he won’t know he’s being ripped off “This way, man.”
Jaska smirked inwardly. ‘Benny’ was right…it would be quick….for him to die. Jaska took great relish in hearing this man’s thoughts. He was a complete oaf. He nodded and followed him into the allyway.
“What do you want, man? I got some MJ…some rock….some X…well..that’s all I got on me no—“
“Shut up. I tell you what I want. Can not do it if you’re talkingk.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes locked on Benny. “X…makes me feel like I read minds.”
The man laughed and went through his pockets. “Whatever man…”
“Yeah. Does sound crazy…though…no different than usual.” Offers a dry laugh. “Is foreign…will not know is being ripped off.” A sick grin formed behind the cigarette as the mans eyes widened. He went to make a run for it but Jaska grabbed his shirt before he could even take a step and pressed him against the wall with one strong hand. “I have been followingk you all day. Heard vhat you were thinkingk about little girl…” His face distorted in anger. Thoughts like that aren’t tolerated around him. Not with what happened to Asya, especially. “Sick fuck.” Without missing a beat he took the cigarette from his lips and shoved it into the man’s left eye. A piece of ash flew back, catching Jaska on the finger. He dropped the bud to the ground and glared at the man. Benny was screaming and writhing in pain, and as soon as Jaska put the silencer on his gun, he silenced him with a stern hand around his neck.
His face remained calm and stoic as he gave his final condolences. And he was too busy inspecting the burn on his finger to look at him. “On behalf of Mr. Molyovits I vould like to inform you that your bank account has been emptied and assets drained. Lucky for you, was more than enough to cover losses. Unfortunately for you, you have been stealing from Mr. Molyvits…” He looked back at the man. “Vhich is vhy I am here.” He kneed the man right in the jewels and let him collapse to a heap on the ground. “your services…no longer needed.” He raised the gun, aiming straight for the top of his head. “do svu dhanuja, You sick son of a bitch”
Only the slightest pressure was required of his finger to put a bullet through the man’s skull. He waited for him to slump over before picking up his cigarette, and leaving the allyway without another look. He walked back to his car, tucking the gun under the driver’s seat and tucked the cigarette in his ashtray, making it indiscernible from the 20 other ones inside of it. He chuckled despite himself at the man’s dying thought. ‘Shit’. He deserved what he got.
Deciding it was time for another drink he figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab one while he was here..or three. Calmly he walked back up to the bar, this time entering, and pulled his last cigarette from his pocket. One to prepare him…one to help get the job done…one to celebrate. He lit it quickly and took a puff as he sat down at the bar. “Vodka. Best you have.”
He offered the bartender a stern nod. She smiled back at him in a flirty way and slid the shot down the bar. He turned up his face and shook his head. “Nyet. Bigger glass.” She raised her brows and slid a double shot down to him. What part of “BIGger glass” didn’t this bitch understand. He stared at her a moment, clearly conveying her incompetence, and resolved to down both. “How much for hoole bottle, hm?”
She opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by a woman’s drunken scream. The girl, no older than 22 threw herself back into the bar and screamed in a high-pitched voice “THERE IS A DEAD GUY IN THE ALLEY!”
Jaska turned to look at her, but quickly turned back as if not taking the drunken rants of a woman who could very well be under aged seriously. Many people did the same. He blended in fine. No one would shed a tear once they realized who it was anyway.
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Post by loekie on Mar 19, 2009 12:51:10 GMT 1
The blonde stared ahead blankly as he downed a new shot. Even though he’d only just turned 16 he could hold his liquor better then most of these shmucks that came in here. He ran a hand through his blonde hair as he lit a new cigarette taking a deep drag blowing out some smoke. The blonde sighed as he mind drifted back to that one fateful night…
He’d been awoken by pounding on the door. He’d opened his eyes slowly looking up in the soft eyes of his mother “Wake up…” she’d told him softly.
“Open this door!” could be heard from outside the front-door.
“He’s here…” the young woman told the boy.
“OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR” now came louder.
“Come on, got to get you up…” she urged the boy as she pulled the blankets of off him and pulls him out of the bed as the pounding continued “He’ll think you’re still with your grandparents okay?” his mother continued “Get under the bed..”
The young boy looked back at the door slightly frightened “Let’s go… okay..” she said again now gently turning the boy’s head “Listen to mommy. This is really important” she instructs her son “Get under the bed. Don’t make a sound. Don’t come out, no matter what happens, don’t come out, okay?” she told him.
The young boy, not understanding nodded slightly “Okay…” he whispered.
His mother bent down to hug him “I love you…” she whispered.
“I love you too mommy…” he responded still majorly confused.
Then the young woman ushered him under the bed “Let’s go. Down you go.. Alright, be real quiet” she told him as she tucked him under the bed. He scrambled and hid all the way inside as his mother had told him.
She then turned and headed out of the room closing the door. She walked down the stairs and the two shout at each-other.
“Open the fuck up!”
“Stop it…”
“OPEN UP”
There’s smashing against the door and not long after the door smashes open. His mother’s voice became even more agitated “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m calling the police! Get out of here! What are you doing? What the hell are you doing with a god damned gu….”
There’s a loud pang and the sound of something heavy slumping down to the floor. Then everything is quiet until there’s footsteps on the stairs stopping in front of the small boy’s room. The door slowly opened and two boots could be seen from the boy’s view. The man paused before sitting down on the bed, that creaked under his weight. There’s the sound of someone cocking a gun and not long after another loud pang and the body on the bed slouched down, the bed creaking once more. The blonde is now alone, left in the silence of death… ---------------
He shook his head. He really definitely, did not want to think about that anymore. He sighed shaking his blonde head… he really didn’t have enough to drink yet. He eyed the bartender and gave her one of his winning dimpled smiles. She raised an eyebrow as she moved over “don’t you think you’ve had enough?” she asked tilting her head.
“Come on now sweetheart” he drawled “you know I haven’t, I can still think straight” he smirked. He never really called anyone by their actual name. He found that with nicknames it was much easier to keep your distance and push people away when it was necessary.
“Can you now?” the bartender questioned raising another eyebrow.
“Unfortunately… yeah” he simply shrugged “else I wouldn’t be here merely talking toa” he smirked.
The young woman shook her head “yeah, yeah Don Juan” she laughed pouring him another drink before going to help another costumer.
The blonde sighed. Well he did have experience. He remembered the woman coming to his room late at night waking him. She had wanted to ‘play a game’ and as naïve and stupid as he was he’d simply agreed. After that it had happened frequently. He didn’t even care anymore, or so he tried to fool himself. The pain of the ‘punishments’ of the guy he could deal with. He had soon gotten used to that and well, it was only pain after all. He could never seem to get used to the woman’s … games. Okay so he definitely did not have enough to drink. He sighed as he downed another drink as someone now sat down next to him ordering Wodka. What was a Russian guy doing in a hell-hole like this? He shrugged. Was none of his business anyway. He took another drag of his cigarette and turned his head slightly as some drunken chick came bursting through the door yapping about some dead guy in the alley.
The blonde simply shrugged. Either some guy had passed out, or a fight had gotten out of hand and the police would be here soon. He smirked, the dumb fuckers… he sighed as he turned his attention back to his drink. He could care less about whatever else was going on. The blonde boy took another drag from his smoke and took another drink… ==========
((You are from Tennessee? What is it like there? I myself am from some small town in Holland
I’m sorry this is a bit shortish and ooh so suckish, but I wanted to post before I had to leave for work….))
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 19, 2009 18:28:06 GMT 1
[[very busy today. Can't guarentee a reply today but I will do what I can. Definitely tomorrow. There is a group that i role play in and two of teh characters are getting married XDD lots of perparations and I'll be playing loooooooads of people.
As for Tennessee it's very pretty here during spring summer and fall but downright ugly during winter. I'm a native Floridian...so teh cold gets to me but otehr than that I love it here. The way James speaks reminds me very much of a guy I went to school with....he unfortunatly is no longer with us, but it's nice to see a voice like his. He wasn't as destructive as James though. And honestly very few people around my area are like james...Leif's family had just been tehre so long that he was a home grown country boy, like his friends. I haven't met many people with thich accents...just minimal ones or none at all =] I was surprised to. I'm sure you invision Tennessee the way that i did before I moved here LOL ]]
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Post by loekie on Mar 19, 2009 20:05:47 GMT 1
((lol... well.. James is founded on a character from the show Lost... and well.. the charrie sorta talks like that.. so I'm just trying to portray him right... I didn't know anything about his past though, except for the fact that his father killed his mother while he was under the bed... that was just soo sad... lol... Holland is just wet and cold... grrr.. but on the up side... it's much more relaxed then America.... *sigh* ah well.. I do hope you get a chance to post later! Good luck with the wedding... lol....))
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 19, 2009 21:15:50 GMT 1
[[ I never got into lost but I have a character who watched her Abusive father shoot her mother through the keyhole in her bedroom. Her and her mom were going to leave him that night and he caught them.
Later in life she dated a guy with the same abilitys as her (she's a elementalist) and he burned her left side almost entirely. She has a huge has scar but she keeps it covered. She is one of my favorites.
I'm working on a reply on and off but I'm very distracted. I apologize ahead of time if it sucks. ]]
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Post by loekie on Mar 19, 2009 23:32:18 GMT 1
She does sound interesting... And well... in the show... Sawyer (the older James) himself became a conman when he was 19... Apparently "When I was nineteen, I needed six grand to pay these guys off I was in trouble with. So I found a pretty lady with a dumb husband who had some money. And I got him to give it to me. How's that for a tragedy? I became the man I was hunting. I became "Sawyer""... In the show he's just this darkish charracter and well.. I'm totally obsessed with him.. as you may have noticed... lol... He has also mentioned twice that according to him "Kids are like dogs, you smack them around if you knock them around enough, they'll think they did something to deserve it" which is where I came up with the whole abuse thing that he suffered. Since I don't think that one night would have made him as ... well... cold... distant.. on the island...
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 20, 2009 22:05:52 GMT 1
The bartender had gone to speak with the manager as a precaution. American’s are so touchy when it comes to death. He didn’t understand why they wouldn’t just let the asshole sit there in the alleyway until morning. He sighed and stood, going behind the counter…taking advantage of her absence to grab a bottle of that bitter liquid which was now, after he finished off this last cigarette, his only outlet for frustration. He turned the bottle over and scoffed. “Twenty-five dollars? Is not even good Vodka…” he rolled his eyes and brought it back to the counter, turning as a slightly more sober man entered after the hysterical woman who was now slurring rather frantically at the manager.
“Shit, guys! It’s Benny!” The man looked around the bar, and now it seemed that everyone except Jaska was now interested in the body that lay crumpled beside the building with a bullet through his brain. With that was his cue to exit. Without another word he very stoicly picked up the bottle, exiting with the rest of the crowd. He did not return to the alley however, he instead retreated to his car, Driving off calmly into the night.
--------------------------------Two Days Later---------------------------------
He wanted nothing more than to leave this shithole town, but he was directed to stay. Apparently Benny hadn’t been the only one stealing from Molyovits in this town. He would have advised the man to pull out of this place all together but apparently business was too good. He gave Jaska a list of those that were to be killed and those that were to be ‘dealt with’ in the form of a business memo with lists of Clients who must be cut from the firm and clients who need consultation. He had to give credit where credit was due…for a Drug Lord, Molyovits was on top of his game.
So instead of locking himself in his murky motel room, Jaska decided fresh air wa sboth needed, and deserved, and made his way to a café for a bite to eat. He scanned over the list slowly, taking in each name and trying his best to block the voices in his head. He needed to concentrate…but during this time of day it was nearly impossible to find a silent place. The waitress approached him with a smile to take his drink order. He looked up at her slowly. “Water. No ice.” And nodded sternly before looking back down at the paper.
As soon as his beverage arrived he ordered a pastrami sandwich on rye. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but he knew it had to be meat….assuming it a safe choice he went with it. As soon as the woman left he poured the water out on the sidewalk beside his chair, replacing it with Vodka from his ‘brief case’. Along with it he pulled out a cluster of pictures, as he began carefully putting names with faces. The sandwich came out a bit too quick for his liking, and thinking the meat had probably been sitting out waiting to go on the bread, he looked at it a bit apprehensively for a moment.
One bite was all it took to confirm it as the meat was room temperature and the cheese still solid. He sighed, rolling his eyes and forcing himself to swallow it. He would, however, eat it…as there were times in his life where he had no food at all. It was never beneficial to waste…even if it was shit food.
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[[Sorry it's so short, but I figured they needed an open opportunity for contact. =May]]
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Post by loekie on Mar 22, 2009 0:35:27 GMT 1
James sighed as the guy beside him stood to collect a bottle from behind the bar. Not too long after the guy left while the blonde southerner remained seated hardly looking up as more and more people started to fret about the dead body in the alley.
So Ben had gone and gotten himself killed. The blonde smirked. Wasn’t that just his luck? He’d just given the bastard his money. He couldn’t really go take it back now. He sighed downing a few more shots before finally rising from his seat intent on heading on his way home. The blonde snuck back into his room letting himself fall onto the bed. Even with the alcohol running through his veins his body still ached from the last few beatings he took, and his head just wouldn’t stop pounding. The blonde closed his eyes and soon memories entered the subconscious.
The 8 year old had no idea how long he’d been under that bed. The first morning light streamed into the window before he had mustered up enough courage to get out from under the bed. He looked around slightly frightened. When he caught sight of the body on the bed, blood splattered everywhere he knew the guy was dead… He swallowed as he now made his way to the door, going downstairs, where the youngster was greeted with the sight of his mother’s body laying on the floor, slumped against a wall, in a pool of her own blood. “Mommy…” he whispered as he shuffled closer kneeling down at her sighed clasping her hand trying to shake her awake “Mommy…?” he tried again, but she just felt so cold. The small boy had run upstairs and returned with a blanket. He wrapped it around his mother’s frail frame and sat next to her clutching her hand, his knees pulled up to his chest willing warmth and life back into his mother.
He remained like this for hours, until a neighbor had seen something through the window and called the police. There was knocking on the door, that now simply opened. They held their breath at the sight greeting them before one of the officers moved to the woman’s side checking for a pulse. Another put a hand on the boy’s shoulder trying to pull him away.
“NO” he protested wriggling and fighting the bigger man every step of the way. The other removed the woman’s blanket and the boy clenched his fists “She needs that!” he exclaimed “she needs the warmth for when she wakes up”
The man now turned the boy around and crouched down to face him “I’m sorry son” he started “but… she .. won’t wake up…” he said as gently as he could. The young boy took that in and mauled that over for a second. He set his jaw and nodded slightly in understanding. He had know of-course. He had just held some childish hope that maybe she was going to be alright.
The boy on the bed slowly opened his eyes shaking himself out of the dream. He sighed closing his eyes again. The blonde pushed it all back to his mind willing himself back to sleep.
The next days were very much like any other. He’d get up, shower, do his ‘morning chores’ trying, but hardly ever avoiding, an ass-kicking. Then there was taking the girl to school, going to school himself, trying to fool everyone he was this cocky, arrogant, southern bastard. Picking up the girl from school, doing some more chores, another beating before diner and then hiding in his room with some books before deciding to just ‘fuck it’ and sneak out anyway to get some drugs, or just royally pissed. He now roamed the town since the girl had been left at home as he had gotten the order to go out and do some shopping... He would later.. but right now, hey, he could use a drink. The blonde sighed as he entered the rather busy building and he looked around for a bit. Wasn’t that the guy he’d seen at the club the other day? Not that it matter, or that he cared. He sat at the bar and ordered a beer massaging his temples.
‘probably another concussion’ the boy thought bitterly as he took a few large gulps from his bottle. He leaned back in his seat lighting a cigarette. He took a deep drag and blew out some smoke. Maybe this place wasn’t going to be so bad? He remembered his last place and why they’d moved. Oh John had been so pissed… it had toootaly been worth it.
there was pounding on his door. The boy thought about ignoring it, but he knew that was a dangerous game. He sighed sitting up, swinging his legs from under the covers… god did his head hurt… He’d bit the dust last night once again… The blonde thought about the morning a few
“Whadda you want?” he retorted running a hand through his longish hair.
“You unlock this door boy.. or I’ll break it down” a male voice sounded and the blonde sighed slowly making his way to the door unlocking it. When he reached for the doorknob the door swung open hitting him in the wrist. He didn’t flinch though and just stared daggers at the big guy before him
“Yeah?” he questioned, but was cut of by a punch in the face that split his lip. The boy simply turned his head back and narrowed his stormy sea-colored eyes “ya done?” he asked raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t long though before he was dragged of down the stares into the small living room.
“Trust me Jamie, we aint done by a long shot” the man responded and the boy sighed.. he was just soo tired of the man’s anger… damn… he had his own ‘Ford temper’ to deal with. He just sighed “Mind telling me what this is all about?” the teen asked.
“The police called this morning…” the man started meaningfully. James just kept his expression blank. “Well boy, aint ya got something to say ta me?” he asked but the boy just shrugged “Whadda ya want me to say?” he asked. The older man huffed “Tell me what ya did?” he demanded. The blonde sighed “I didn’t do nothin’” he defended himself but the man would have none of it.
“Oh really?” the man now closed the space between them “They said you and yer friends were out joyriding last night, you in particular, all liquored up..” he stated smacking the boy before him in the face once again.
“So?” the blonde smirked. What did he care? It had been an amazing night… booze.. and well.. other stuff, one after all, had to experiment right? The care thing hadn’t even been his idea… There had been a lexus parked near where they hung out, and one of his friends had wanted to see what it was like to drive one… and my… they had. He knew he was going to pay for it now though and well he had. Hell… he’d scared the little girl half to death by loosing consciousness…
The little girl had followed the boy out of the house. She just wanted to know he was alright. She had grown very fond of him over the past few months... She wandered into the diner and when she spotted him near the bar she was about to run up to him when, in her excitment she tripped and fell flat on her face right before a table where someone was having something to eat and drink...
The girl's bright-blue eyes looked up at him as she tilted her head pushing herself to her feet...
James looked up and frowned as he rose from his stool and made his way to the girl as she now stood near the man that had been in the same bar a few nights ago.
the blonde made his way over to where the girl was dusting herself of.
"You alright sugar-pop?" James asked as he crouched down before her. The girl looked up and smiled "I'm fine" she shrugged still looking at the man at the table thinking he looked sad somehow. She smiled "hello" she greeted..
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 22, 2009 1:40:29 GMT 1
(( I'm not too sure about that. one has to be aware that someone is reading thier mind in order to block it. Not to mention the fact that if he could that would take away a lot of the conflict that arises from ones thoughts being read. Also, it's not like Jaska is trying to read people's minds, it just happens. he fucked himself over by being greedy. usually he keeps it to himself unless something expecially ridiculous is thought of, or somthing about him.
Could you also modify your post a bit? It's really hard to reply to a post where no contact is made. ))
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Post by loekie on Mar 23, 2009 21:24:00 GMT 1
((I guess... but you know.. James wouldn't really go and talk to people you know? He rather withdrawn.... I'll have to think about how I'm gonna do that since I rather want to stay true to his character....))
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Post by Iakov 'Jaska' Belyakova on Mar 24, 2009 1:39:45 GMT 1
(( I understand, but Jaska isn't going to just start chatting up some kid. ))
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