hormones and alcohol, rayne

[LARA "MICHIE" MICHELLE RAMEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 418px; padding: 0px; border-top: 20px solid #151515;][bg=2e4461] [style=background-color: 8e8855;position: relative; padding: 2px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; color: #000000; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; opacity: 0.8]shut the fuck up and hand over the booze, her hand ran went through her brunette locks as she found herself looking out on the streets manku watching guilty until proven otherwise pedestrions. her hipped easily found the itself leaned upagainst the window frame while she continued her gaze at the people going about their business. people watching became one of her pass times while waiting for her coffee pot to brew up it's caffiene substance. she was currently recovering from a long night of hunts back to back, so right now she was resting as best as she could. that's when a couple walked by walking hands seemingly happy that nothing wrong could ever happened, the brunette didn't respond to them wth words but a simple roll of the eyes as she left her infamous window sill. people tend to be idiots with this 'love business' the words entered her thoughts, as she continued to walk from her living room and into the kitchen area. she picked up the coffee pot since it was done brewing and poured it into the one of her favorite mugs, and she picked the mug up and walked back to the living room. she slowly sat down on the couch and turned on the tv, so she could watch action movies while she wanted for it to be time to do something. today she actually didn't want to go out and do senseless hunting but she found herself in a parting mood. the day was filled with aventure or action movies on hbo or some other channel that had another movie that was better on it. when she was finished with her mug, she left it standing on the table sitting next to her cherry red sofa. throwing her head back against the back of it while she thrusted her weight forward, so her position would change into a slouching position. the world could turn on its axis so slow, sometimes, or that's what it felt like to little miss ramey. finally the time ticked down enough for her to start getting ready for the night into town. of course, she never went out without being prepared for certain situations and she was a pretty good hidding out, if things got a little more complicated. taking a quick shower to freshen up, and do everything that she needed to do while locking herself in a such a small room, such as showering, fixing her hair and makeup. she already figured out what she wanted to wear for this particular occassion. wrapping a towel around her torso loosely while she picked up her dirty laundry and tossed it into her hamper located on the opposite wall of her bathtub, that could also be used as a shower head. then she let her towel drop to her waist, letting it be removed by gravidy and ended up finishing the job, while grabbing the material when it slid to her waste tossing it into the hamper. sometimes her clothing tended to make her seem like a total skank, but in reality, the girl didn't just encounter sexual experiences with every attractive face she met. she had some standards to her name. her feet made their way towards her dresser, pulling out one of the doors to reveal matching undergarments and tended to never really mix and match. tonight she picked matching black with white lace on the hem that would exist just under the black shirt that would wrap around it and revealing some of her cleavage as a tease to someone that thought they had a shot. next garment of clothing that was slipped on was a purple skirt and she slipped on a white over shirt for her black one, it didn't cover much but it looked nice put all together. she picked out a pair of black heels and was ready for the night, she hid her key to her apartment around the area after making sure no one was watching. of course, it had to be a complicated place and nothing simple, like under the welcome mat; that was a rookie move. her footsteps walked across the sidewalk finding the familar large towel with the welcome sign flashing off the enterance door. her goal was in the basement, where she hoped that it would be entertaining and not completely dull waste of a trip. ian enterprise was the name attached to said building, not much of a name but lara didn't have a say in that, obviously. getting into the nightclub was rather easy, almost too easy but that was the perks of having realistically real false identifcation for the party lifestyle that she enjoyed. she wiggled her way through the drunken dancing crowd to the bar, taking a seat and ordering a shot of vodka, while cross her legs so she wouldn't pull a celebrity movie and crotch tease, except that she has on a pretty thong on. when she got her drink slid at her, she picked it up and downed the shot. [/style] WORDS - 838 - NOTES - outfit! - TAG - vine for rayne [/style]

table credited to madame marianna @ caution 2.0

[RAYNE XAVIER SAVAGE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #000000; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #0B3B0B solid; border-bottom: 10px #0B3B0B solid;] i'll be miserable at best ( WORDS ) 1002 ( TAGGED ) MARIE/MARI ( STATUS ) COMPLETE Tonight just wasn't Rayne's night. He felt even more out of place than usual. His arm felt as if someone had doused his stained flesh in gasoline and lit it aflame with a lighter. His fingers stung. And, behind reflective lenses, nursed a faint black eye. A drink was what he needed. It all started with his trip to the cemetery about half past noon. It wasn't often when he purposely reflected on his background, and quite rare for his thoughts to move back towards his mortal life, before he ever became an angel. Perched atop a gravestone with the sun beating down on his bare back, he found himself filled with the familiar sense of nostalgia, and depression. Rayne had knowledge of where his own grave resided, several thousand miles from his current location, just feet away from his deceased father, and, discovered after he returned to Earth as a guardian angel, his mother's resting place. He'd always had suicidal thoughts since he fell, however has never acted on them. Couldn't, really. Though all he had wanted at that moment was to be dead. Wished that he had never been selected to become an angel in the first place. He left with an icy, heavy heart, as well as a bad attitude. That attitude got him into the first fight of the day. He had pissed off a wealthy-looking man that seemed barely out of his teens with a flip of the finger after spilling hot chocolate all over the stranger's perfectly ironed suit and baby blue tie. Rayne didn't like that disgusted look that guy had been giving him. And then they brawled in the deserted alleyways. The fight, to an outsider, appeared to be quite evenly matched. However, it took all his strength and willpower to continue, especially when his frustration and irritation ran out, only to be replaced with his downcast mood from earlier. It wasn't long until he found out why that guy had been giving him a nasty look; the dude spat on him and called him sinful trash, a failure, the worst kind of angel. The stranger was a guardian angel, whose charge also happened to be the girl Rayne had fucked the other night, and left without a second thought. Apparently that did a lot of damage to the chick's fragile personality. In short, he had his ass kicked by that faggot. His left arm had been fractured in several different places, some of the bones smashed to dust. The fingers of his right hand were bent back and snapped like toothpicks under little effort. Rayne's jaw was also shattered from a harsh punch to the face, and his eye blackened from a later attack. That guardian angel could have killed him with ease; he had the means, in fact. Threatened to end it then and there. For once in over a decade, Rayne felt hope. He thought he didn't have to struggle on anymore. Had almost begged the angel to finish his pain, but, no. As luck would have it, the angel recognized that he actually desired to be slain. And he withdrew, deciding aloud that his torture on Earth was enough punishment. Then everything went black. Rayne woke up hours later, just as the sky grew dim, the clouds spreading to reveal a slim slice of the glowing moon. A majority of the injuries received had healed, though he felt sore and still sported a black eye. He made a trip to his apartment, changed into a blood-free pair of clothes, and gulped down several painkillers that did nothing to relieve the hurt he felt. He was miserable. Absolutely pathetic. Had that small sliver of hope dangled in front of him, and, like a fool, he had grabbed for it. And missed. That is what had brought him to the lavish nightclub located in the basement of Ian Enterprise. Tonight was one of those nights. He would consume as much alcohol in a short amount of time as he possibly could. He'd be falling down drunk. He'd do stupid shit. But he wouldn't feel any pain. The hurt and sorrow would just melt away, like it always did. And then tomorrow he'll wake up with a nasty as fuck hangover and return to how things had been. That was the process. That was the plan. Dressed comfortably in a sleeveless shirt, camo skinnies held up by a black and red belt, dark sneakers and his grey eyes hidden behind a pair of shades, the fallen angel entered, striding along the edges where the crowd thinned out. He was undesirable of encountering anyone at the moment. He just needed a drink, perhaps a few shots first before he even though about interacting. With the chiming jingles of his necklaces drowned out by the bass and general beat of the club, he made his way to the bar, hastily seating himself and ordering a glass of the first whiskey that came to mind; Jack Daniel's. The alcoholic liquid was consumed within minutes of him receiving it, and 'twas not long before he craved a stronger buzz. When Rayne was well into his fourth shot - this time it was vodka - he noticed there was someone else at the bar, downing her own shot of the alcoholic beverage. Resting his tattooed arms upon the counter, with a wince of pain, he glanced over to get a better look at the girl, a smirk sliding onto his lips. She was rather attractive with long, silky brown hair, and chocolate eyes framed by thick eyelashes. She didn't just have a pretty face, though. No, she also had a nice body. Slim, but athletic, with a good set of legs. Wonder how flexible she is, he thought with a soft chuckle. "Sure you can handle that, darling?" he teased shamelessly, referring to the shot she had just downed. He ran his stiff fingers through his hair, dark bangs resting atop the shades that hid his grey eyes, and the bruising one had received earlier that day. OUTFIT: HERE NOTES: N/A

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by mayday parade

[LARA "MICHIE" MICHELLE RAMEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 418px; padding: 0px; border-top: 20px solid #151515;][bg=2e4461] [style=background-color: 8e8855;position: relative; padding: 2px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; color: #000000; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; opacity: 0.8]shut the fuck up and hand over the booze, On this night was going to be filled with booze and possibly someone to sleep with, she was in need of finding a friends with benefits person. Her joints felt like they kept tightening after the previous day of fighting. Sometimes after the healing process, she felt like her strength was improving, but there was no way that she was going to one of those hidious body builder woman or have those nasty abs. That was just to much on a femine body. Her eyes casted among her fellow party goers seeing if anyone had caught her interest. So far, everyone seemed to be to into themselves or the person around there area; at often times, she got somewhat amused by the technical sexual activity that happened on the dance floor after adding a little bit of alcohol. Normally should would find herself really wanting a top that other female was wearing, but so far it seemed like she had more style and classes then most of the people that congested the bottom level of this particular building. Letting a low sigh out, while looking back at the bartender. She was trying to get buzzed enough to be able to handle these foolish people, already figuring that most of them were probably supernatural and other other half didn't know that other creatures walked among them. Tilting her head to one of the sides, slipping in a seductive personal working the bartender to keep serving her alcohol and made sure that she wasn't given whiskey; whiskey was her poison. Normally she was a flirty and had the possiblity of being friendly drunk, unless whiskey was in her system.. that was when she was even more violent then her normal self. She had started plenty of bar fights with whiskey being the key ingrediant to her violent nature. She wasn't sure why it had to be whiskey, since the burn down her throat was usually pretty worth it. There was more things that was still a secret to the few people that she's slept with was that the girl enjoyed pain, just as much as she enjoyed handing it out. Barely noticing the fact that another figure had come up, she was too busy downing her chosen poison, to notice because she felt like someone would have to be pretty ballsy to mess with her in this type of atmosphere. A very familar feeling started peering around the corner as she felt like she was being watched, and she started to do her normal thing about ignoring it for the time being. But hearing a voice directed towards where she was sitting caused her to spare the unaware male, lifting up an eyebrow, "I can handle a lot of things, babe." she replied, with her own small smirk easing on her lips and feeling a sense of tingles along her cheeks. Now, she was sure that she would be able to handle people and be able to really feel it when she finally stood back upright on her feet. Shamelessly scanning him, then finally looking back up at his sunglasses, "Always were shades in a club?" she asked, rather bluntly. [/style] WORDS - 532 - NOTES - outfit! - TAG - vine for rayne [/style]

table credited to madame marianna @ caution 2.0

[RAYNE XAVIER SAVAGE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #000000; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #0B3B0B solid; border-bottom: 10px #0B3B0B solid;] i'll be miserable at best ( WORDS ) 445 ( TAGGED ) MARIE/MARI ( STATUS ) COMPLETE "Mmm.. Thanks for sparking my imagination," he smirked when she said she could handle a lot of things. Of course, there were things on his mind now that he was feeling a buzz. And, holy shit, was he going to wake up wasted and possibly fucked up tomorrow morning, that much he could tell right now. That always happened when he purposely went out just to get drunk as hell. It was worth it every time, too. "No," was his answer to the shades question, fingers coming up to trace the beloved frame. Although, they did not stop him from seeing the woman's shameless scan of him, his smirk growing wider. "I don't always wear them in a club, but tonight is different. Someone that hates me likes to hang out here often, and I'd rather not get my ass kicked right now. Once a day is enough." Another thing about Rayne; he wasn't afraid to admit he lost. He wasn't invincible for fuck's sake, so there was no reason for anyone to think any less of him. No one was capable of winning every fight, every time. Plus, he was a little rusty. Sharpening his fighting skills was definitely something he would be doing later on during his stay here in Manuka. He waved the bartender over to get him another Jack Daniel's, having the fucking weirdest craving for the whiskey at that moment. Might as well satisfy whatever rational part of him was left now, yeah? The angel glanced down at his hands, wincing as his fingers unclenched from the subconscious fist he had been making. Shit, don't I wish healing was a lot faster for the fallen. The thought was pretty moot, though. Rayne knew well that he liked the pain. Loved it, in fact. Physical pain was just so much better than emotional pain, and made him forget about all those folly feelings. It was exactly like a medicine to him, the best kind and quality he could ever have until fate decides to get rid of him. Within seconds his whiskey was set in front of him, and he waste no time at all to take a drink, though thought it best he didn't chug it down all at once. No, he wanted to get drunk, not sick. And he was talking to an attractive person. Getting falling-down-drunk could be put off. Well, for the moment, anyways. Rayne still wanted to be so drunk he couldn't think straight. That plan was still there, just.. delayed. It was wise that he found out a little more about this girl before he lost all his senses. Wouldn't want to get kidnapped by someone crazy, right? OUTFIT: HERE NOTES: N/A

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by mayday parade

[LARA "MICHIE" MICHELLE RAMEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 418px; padding: 0px; border-top: 20px solid #151515;][bg=2e4461] [style=background-color: 8e8855;position: relative; padding: 2px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; color: #000000; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; opacity: 0.8]shut the fuck up and hand over the booze, Hearing his response, caused her eyes to switch from her drink back to his pair of sunglasses with a small smirk, "No problem, doll." she replied to him. Yeah, she was pretty fucking buzzed and feeling quite lovely but she was good at staying in control of what happens to her. If all else falls, she could pull out the small key chain sized pepper spray and use that while she made a run for it. However, she felt like she wouldn't have to use it for tonight. She wasn't looking for the nasty little hangover that she would be given to as a lovely present from the alcohol that drained from her body, she just hoped that she would be able to take a shot so she could go right back to working on getting rid of annoying people. Carefully watching his movements behind her dark orbs, and listened to his small explanation of the reason behind them. It caused a small giggle escaped her lips while her smirk spread across her lips, "You poor thing, you should probably put ice on that." she suggested with her limited knowledge on bruises and nursing. She didn't enjoy going to the hospitals, so most of her fix ups were her doing it to herself while standing in the mirror. She almost hated doctors, just as much as she hated werewolves. "How bad is it?" she asked curiously, otherwise she would find out for herself since she was even more daring when she was intoxicated. Her eyes flashed down to the Jack Daniels, now that was some good whiskey that would cause a familiar burning sensation that caused the curl of her toes, but she wanted a soft touch against her skin or extremely rough sex...whichever one came first. And that wouldn't happen if she was angry at everything all over again. She had noticed that his hand were balled into a fist, which caused her to lift her eyebrow. Her thoughts were pretty much rambling on about how much she would rather him not hit her in public, Michie was a solitude type of person. She only allowed men into her apartment when she was sure that they wouldn't remember where she lived, she would much rather go to there place, so if by chance the sex was bad.. she could disappear before they woke up so they could pretend that it was all a dream. Her empty glass was sitting beside her, considering she had turned in her seat to face him. Michie wouldn't exactly call herself bum-fucking-nuts, but some people would probably call her that considering she got a thrill from her hunts. After a successful kill, she was usually pretty turned on and having friends with benefits would most definitely come in handy for that exact reason. "I should warn you that, I really don't need to drink whiskey.. or you'll be wearing two black eyes." she informed him, following by a playful tease. She wasn't sure if she was serious, but a drunken Michie didn't even more unexpected things then the sober one. There were times were she would enjoy herself for being a little carefree, but she knew that there was a time and place for that. She glanced towards the bartender and ordering a glass of vodka, as she tilted her head and looked back at him, "so what happens when you get too plastered to make it back to your place?" she asked curiously, with a small smirk. She was beginning to get sexually frustrated and was sexually attracted to him, which was saying something. [/style] WORDS - 605 - NOTES - outfit! - TAG - vine for rayne [/style]

table credited to madame marianna @ caution 2.0

[RAYNE XAVIER SAVAGE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #000000; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #0B3B0B solid; border-bottom: 10px #0B3B0B solid;] i'll be miserable at best ( WORDS ) 453 ( TAGGED ) MARIE/MARI ( STATUS ) COMPLETE He chuckled in amusement when she told him to put ice on his bruised eye, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. Humans sure were funny. If she was human, anyways, he couldn't tell the difference between a mortal and most supernaturals. Didn't matter much, really. If they had a pretty face, and/or a nice body, well, fuck it. Life was life, he was male, and the rest is easy to figure out. That's what made the world go 'round. Money, sex, and happiness. He had two of those three options. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, darling, I'll live." I always do. The angel took another drink of his whiskey, feeling the alcohol burn his throat on its way down. Yay. "It's not bad, honestly. I've been broken a lot worse before." And not just physically. Thinking things he could have said, though would reveal too much, seemed to be a habit of his. Huh. Maybe he was going crazy. Not that he already wasn't, but, y'know, he hadn't entirely lost his mind. Yet. He tilted his shades down a little, just for a brief moment so she could see that his eye really was fine, just kind of purple was all. Looked a lot worse earlier. "Mmmm.." Another playful smirk settled onto his lips, sort of mixed with a devious little smile. "I'll keep that in mind. It'd be a terrible fashion statement, but.. I'd love to see you get angry." This attractive woman was more amusing by the second, whether or not she seemed to be a bit buzzed, perhaps even drunk. She looked like fun. Someone who would give you another black eye if they drank whiskey? Well, shit, that sounded like fun. Seriously. He wouldn't mind play-fighting or actually brawling with this pretty human. A new distraction, maybe. Lord knows he needed something else to think about. And it just so happened that she asked what he would do if he got too drunk to make it home. His fingers skimmed along the frame of his shades again before finishing off his Jack Daniel's in a few gulps, feeling that buzz he had been craving oh so badly. The corner of Rayne's lips tilted upwards in a grin, teeth flashing white in the lights of the club. "Well, tonight is one of those nights, actually." He ran his hand through his dark hair, facing the woman again. "Hmm, usually if I have one or five too many, some lucky person gets to take me home for the night, and I leave in the morning. That's how it normally works." Another chuckle was bubbling on his lips at the look she was giving him. "Why do you ask, sweetheart? Interested?" OUTFIT: HERE NOTES: N/A

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by mayday parade

[LARA "MICHIE" MICHELLE RAMEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 418px; padding: 0px; border-top: 20px solid #151515;][bg=2e4461] [style=background-color: 8e8855;position: relative; padding: 2px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; color: #000000; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; opacity: 0.8]shut the fuck up and hand over the booze, To say the least, Michie did not give two flying fucks what he did to fix his eye, because if he was human it would take some time and if he was a supernatural, he'd be brand spanking new in no time. So, she would honestly tell him to get over it or suck it, if he had started bitching about 'how much it hurt'. She didn't take too kindly to people bitching about their battlemarks, especially since she got a lot of them and didn't gripe about them. If she had gone hunting, she would be wearing a few right about now, but she hadn't and had an odd number of drinks in her. Hearing his response, caused her to look back over at him with a smirk, "I would hate to step over you to find someone else to play with." she teased, shifting her weight over, so she would be able to look at him head on. Her white shirt allowed her black tank was more viewable and one would only be able to see her toned stomach. It was clear that she was in shape with muscles, but she wasn't grossly muscled..which was sexy. She heard his comment and it just reinforced her smirk, "Well the only scars i'll admit to or the exciting once." she responded, and she was trying to trip the conversation back to normal mortal speak. The last thing she wanted to realize is that he was a stupid Werewolf and she would probably just leave. Noticing that he tilted his shades, revealing the kinda purple tint of his eye and the fact that he had pretty eyes, the one thing that she normally looked at someone. "Too bad you can't keep those off." she commented on. She wasn't sure if she was flirting or if the alcohol was talking, but she was okay with it. Hearing his statement caused her to give off a light giggle, most definately the alcohol talking, "Then you should wait 'till somewhere private, so you won't be embarrassed for getting beat up by a girl." she teased, knowing full well that if he was a human that she would be able to take him and then some. Her eyes trailed over him once more, as she picked up her glass, "Do you dance?" she asked him, curiously. It was her way of asking him to dance and for her to be able to have an excuse to get a feel of what type of person he was, even though alcohol was in her system. She had learned how to remember quirks about people that she met during her intoxication. She heard his response about that and let out a soft giggle, "That is a bit dangerous." she commented. If some by chance, she did have her few one night stands.. she didn't stick around and give them time to wake up for the day. Usually leaving them a small post it with comments about the night, she could remember was "good job, kid" and another one was "you could use some work or more to drink" and that was the nicest way for her to be able to say, "you're horrible in bed and you should just..no". She was lost in her thoughts and mentally shook her head, and ran a hand through her bangs, "Maybe." she answer, with a small playful wink. She really would rather not go to her place, because she had an issue with keeping her things private. [/style] WORDS - 590 - NOTES - outfit! - TAG - vine for rayne [/style]

table credited to madame marianna @ caution 2.0