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Post by daphne on Feb 12, 2013 20:10:03 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] all you think of lately is getting underneath me. The Words: five hundred and thirty-nine The Outfit: here The Notes the song is 'Closer' by Tegan & Sara
There was no doubt in Daphne Logan's mind, as she swung her leg over the edge of her windowsill, that her roommate was face deep in lady lumps - getting just what he wanted. She also didn't doubt that the sight would have been enough to trigger her gag reflex, had she used the front door instead of scaling her building. But, at that point - when she was climbing three stories down a fire escape - she thanked her lucky stars for that roommate. Because living with him was worlds better than living in a cramped dorm, or worse, at home. Daphne bit down on the cigarette hanging from her lips in hopes of keeping it put. Unfortunately, it only broke it in half, sending a small, orange light down to the ground and causing her to sputter and spit out the remains, wiping her mouth in disgust.
With the most exaggerated sigh she could muster, Daphne jumped down onto the fire escape of the third floor, tiptoed down the rusted stairs, and climbed the rest of the way down the screeching ladder, quite cat-like. Her feet touched the ground and she stomped out the cigarette butt, reluctantly. She snatched up her bag, from it's place on the ladder, and slung it over her shoulder with another huff. Why she carried so much shit with her, she'd never really know. But, she often used the excuse, "I'm a girl, and girls need things for emergencies, ya dig?"
Daphne glanced around her at the almost empty street, straightened her jacket, and started down the pavement towards her destination. She passed windows, checking her reflection and hating herself for clicking her tongue and raising shooter hands at herself. Hitching her bag up higher, Daphne turned a corner and saw the line for the club. Titling her head back and balling her fists, she pulled at the zipper of her leather jacket and pushed the girls out. It's not that she had a hard time getting into these types of places, but she was storming to the front of the line and that took work. Her heels clicked on the pavement, a look of determination on her face, and she sighed a little when she spotted the bouncer. A friend of her coworkers, "Hey, Barry! You wanna let me in?"
He gave an answer, unheard over the blasting music, but opened the rope and let her inside. She smiled and waved, stepping past the bouncer and into the strobe-lights of the club. Her head, naturally, started bobbing to the music. She handed off her bag to the checker, tucking her phone and money into a pocket on her jacket, and made her way further in. Daphne danced her way to the bar, hands in the air and smile on her face. Her hips were swaying to the music, until they found a seat. Honestly, the crowd was big but there was little selection - when it came to guys. So, she ordered a drink, after a little flirting with the bartender and sat on her stool, muttering, "The night's still young, Daph. The night is still young."
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Post by angie on Feb 13, 2013 1:39:39 GMT -5
it's time to begin isn't it? He wasn't much of a partier. He much preferred to be working. Which, for any other guy, would mean a boring 9-to-5 event in a suit or tie. But Emilio actually enjoyed his job. It was physically demanding, rescuing alligators or snakes that had wondered into a residential neighborhood. And it was mentally exhausting trying to figure out how to stretch the money coming into the center to cover all the payments and pay his volunteers in crappy fast food lunch. They all knew what it was like. It wasn't a glamorous job. It was about conservation. But his friends had somehow convinced him to shower, put on something nice, and get out of the swamps and into the city. There was a club they had wanted to visit. And they were going to drag Emi to it, whether he liked it or not.
And here he was, lights strobbing, music thumping, bodies gyrating and sweating. Beautiful people pretty much anywhere he looked. It was the Miami everyone expected. And the complete opposite of how he grew up in the city. He supposed it was nice to escape once in awhile, but he was fairly certain he was going to need a couple of Advils after this, since his friends decided to stand in front of a larger wall of speakers. "I'm going to go get a beer." He yelled, his head close to his friend's ear. His friend, who was preoccupied with the curvaceous body of the woman in front of him, shrugged in response, grinning and pointing to his ears. He made a drinking motion with his hand and pointed to the bar and his friend nodded, waving his hand dismissively before going back to his new lady friend. Emi shook his head, smirking to himself as he made his way to the bar.
Throat parched from dancing and yelling to communicate over the thumping music, he finally reached the bar, which was full of people with the same idea. Drinks, now, and fast. Getting the attention of the bartender would be the problem now. He didn't mind throwing his body around to get to the bar, but getting the attention of a male bartender without breasts and a nice face was near impossible. Unless he was gay. Which was a huge possibility. Until he saw the tender talk to a girl without looking at her face once. So much for the gay plan.
This side of the bar was full of dancers. So Emi backed out of the sweaty crowd and walked around to the other side, which was far more settled and the bar even had stools. The music was also just a tiny bit less obnoxious. Settling in next to a brunette, he managed to get himself a nice, cold beer, which he drank quite thankfully and let out a sigh. He swirled around on the stool to watch the club from his vantage point. Glancing over at his neighbor, he put on a charming smile. "Hi." He said, quite simply. He was no player. And he didn't pretend to be. Besides, he figured that a girl that looked like her would have been hit on by player after player and could easily see through the ruse. Simply being him was his best bet.
549 , tagged: kell , notes: erm, hope its ok! , thanks lauz |
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Post by daphne on Feb 13, 2013 3:05:07 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] all you think of lately is getting underneath me. The Words: four hundred and eighty-seven The Outfit: here The Notes loved it! i'm sleepy = this reply is messy.
She was on the tail of her third drink, and almost regretting it. Not enough, however, to put it down and give up. She wasn't going home empty handed, not in this state. Daphne, ultimately - after a long internal battle that was probably shown on her face - decided slowing it down would be for the best. She ordered another drink, this time a water, and fixed the position of her dress as the tender fetched it. The song changed to an upbeat remix of Usher's song Climax, by the time the tender returned. With a small smile on her face, she accepted it and took a small sip, muttering, "Mm, thanks."
Her vision started clearing and her head bobbed up and down to the song. Somewhere in the back of her buzzed mind, she reminded herself how long it'd been since she'd actually danced in a club. Since she actually let go and threw her sloppy drunk hands in the air. Looking at the crowd, however, eyes wide and blinking, tonight wasn't going to be the night she changed that.
So, Daphne took to bouncing on her stool to the club's dance mix, sipping on her water, for what seemed like ages. She was starting to think that maybe it wasn't the night to go out. Maybe she wasn't going to get as lucky as her roommate. At that thought, her phone vibrated in her pocket - as if on cue. Daphne's hand found it, pulled it out and unlocked the screen to review a message that read:
When did you leave?
She quickly typed her response, setting her drink on the bar for only a second:
About the time she started screaming your name.
Then, she reached behind her for her drink, tucked her phone back into her pocket and downed the rest of the alcohol in her glass. She was turning, raising the empty glass towards the bartender to ask for another, when she heard a voice. That, in itself, was enough to turn her head. Being able to hear someone in this club was a mircle - that, or the guy was right next to her. The second option was more likely, however, and the correct one. She looked the guy up and down, waiting for something more. But, smirked when all he gave was, "Hi."
It was simple. And she took a moment to be thankful he didn't give her some cheesy pickup line. Though, honestly, it probably would have worked on her. The guy was cute and confident, and Daphne had a soft spot for ballsy men. She needed to think of a perfect response. Something that said she wasn't completely oogling him, like a piece of meat. So, she leaned her elbow on the bar, "Oh," She said, hoping her attempt at casual was a hit, "Hello.
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